#please ignore the coloring on the eighth gif

[oyeicher]

I just like Kim Donghee.

Unintentional Love Story Episode 6

[eponatheempath]

Astrology character analysis: Glinda/Galinda from Wicked (2024)

Rising/ascendant

After watching the musical film in theaters, the zodiac sign that suits Glinda’s ascendant is Libra. Why? In astrology, Libra is the sign that rules the celestial body of Venus and seventh house of companionship, long term relationships, love, and beauty. And I strongly believe this fits Glinda’s character more because of her mannerism, attitude, and honestly the color scheme and fashion reminds me of a Libra. The most well known colors for Libras are actually pink, blue, and green or other colors.

Also, I think the reason it makes more sense for Libra being Glinda’s rising sign because her character speaks Libra to me, and Libras are the people pleasing type, and her being a good witch makes sense to me. Because from what I believe Libras are good hearted especially people with Libra placements in their big three including their sun, moon and ascendant.

Sun and house placement

This is tricky because I think Cancer or Pisces suit her. Personally for her character in the film, Glinda to me is a Pisces because Pisces is associated with Neptune, Jupiter, and the twelfth house of spirituality, illusions, deception, magic, and dreams. Natives with sun in Pisces are sweet people they appear as caring, intuitive, sensitive not overly sensitive, and good hearted. People with Pisces as their sun, moon or ascendant they are well liked for being sweet, caring and sensitive souls.

For her placement, I would place Pisces according to her ascendant on the eighth house making her descendant/DC in Aries. The eighth house symbolizes death, the occult, unknown, secrets, transformation, and power and control with the house ruled by Scorpio, Mars, and Pluto this would make Glinda practice her craft/magic with good intentions versus the wicked/evil witch with bad intentions. With Pisces being her sun sign in the eighth house, Glinda would rather use her powers for good and not evil.

Moon and house placement

To me, Glinda’s moon sign is in Libra and I would place her moon placement on her first house. Moon in Libra symbolizes a woman who believes in love, beauty, aesthetics, and having good manners and poise which matches her character as good witch. Glinda loves to people please others which is one of the characteristics of a Libra they would do anything to make other people happy. People with Libra as their big three sun, moon or rising wants the best for them and they’re good hearted.

However, the downside is similar to a Pisces is deception sometimes Glinda doesn’t recognize or understand Elpheba. Because unlike Glinda Elpheba is more emotional and highly sensitive person or an empath, which I’ll do another character analysis of her. There’s power that Glinda doesn’t have like Elpheba which is she feels deeply, and senses negative and positive energy.

When they became roommates they had to get along with each other, even though they’re dual opposites like death versus life, good versus evil, and light and darkness. They got a chance to become friends until the end of the film, and don’t worry there will be part 2 of the movie coming out next year in 2025. It will be the same movie just renamed as Wicked: For Good part 2 it may signify that Glinda’s friendship with Elpheba may have shattered or remain as friends. Elpheba turned to the dark side because she saw the horrors because of her powers, and emotions which fuels her powers which are the reason why they’re powerful. While Glinda has magical powers for good intentions which makes Elepheba’s polar opposite.

Will Glinda get back together with her friend Elpheba or remain enemies forever?

Before I forget, moon in the first house for Glinda she’s ignoring a part of herself that Elpheba might understand Glinda if she listen or understand her as being polar opposite of her. Natives with moon in the first house are emotional and people with celestial bodies in the first house including the Moon. I think Glinda tries her best to not let her emotions cloud her judgment, which is the reason why she’s good at managing her emotions than Elpheba. People with moon in the first house has great self control of themselves, however it comes with a price unfortunately I have this placement too in my chart like Glinda. People with moon in the first house is misunderstood because they detach from their emotions, and their focus is to people please others which again is a Libra habit. Libras like myself needs to stop people pleasing because it’s not helping and you’re destroying yourself, and also reconnect with your inner core/emotional side.

If in part 2 of the movie which will come out next year. My prediction is either Glinda getting back together with Elpheba or remain enemies. What do you think?

[stormkobra-5]

Please write prompt 17 with Santi Garcia! 😫🥺

Prompt: 17) softer muse makes the first move for sex and rides or tops the gruffer one who looks at them like they just found god + Santiago Garcia

Rating/Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI, smut, riding, dom!reader, sub!Santi, mention of subspace, Santi is Shook™️

When Santi first met you, he was enthralled. You had a sweet countenance about you— you never yelled out of anger or surprise; hell, Santi wasn’t even sure you had the ability to be angry. And if you were surprised, a startled squeak was all that you could do. You were quiet, reserved, ridiculously shy, and kind to anything and everything. When he asked you out, you were a blushing, stuttering mess; he’s pretty sure your brain glitched there for a second. But he thought you were cute, and he was certain there was more to you than met the eye.

His first hint that he was right came on your third date, when you gave him permission to take you to a shooting range to meet the boys. Assholes as they were (affectionately), they thought it would be funny to let you try.

Needless to say, the whole place was quiet when you shot a round from a handgun with expert precision. “What?” Your cute little shrug while holding a 9-mil was completely contradictory.

His second hint came on the fifth date. It was like since you were getting more comfortable with him, you’d started showing more of your true colors, more of yourself, and he was loving every minute of it, seeing these new sides of you. When the waitress saw how you were acting— shoulders hunched, gaze averted from her, no words to be said— she immediately took advantage of the situation. Or, she tried to. Santi thought no one could compare to your beauty, but he also knew that you compared yourself. He knew that you were comparing yourself to the waitress— whose slutty advances made her insanely less attractive— just like you compared yourself to every single woman that walked by. He hated it, but despite how many times he’d tried to tell you, you didn’t stop.

When the waitress— who had, no shit, gone into the bathrooms and come out with freshly done makeup that was way too much, and had undone the first few buttons of her shirt to make cleavage, which she then bent a bit in his direction to show it off— came over to the table, ignoring you, to give him her number, Santi didn’t have to reject her.

You— sweet, lovable you— went from zero to sixty in a millisecond. “You fucking whore-ass bitch,” was the first thing out of your mouth. “You've really got no fucking dignity, do you? Get your ass away from our table before I report you to the manager after I kick your ass so hard you won’t be able to find the edges of your lips to outline your bad lipstick job.”

The waitress looked at you like you were crazy— and she looked a little terrified— prompting you to slam your napkin on the table before scooting your chair back a bit as if in preparation to storm after her. She took off, leaving you to calmly return your napkin to your lap, clear your throat, and take a sip of your wine. “What were you saying?” Your little eyebrow raise over the top of your glass sent your whole look overboard.

Santi almost came in his pants right there.

Your protective side wasn’t surprising— it was always the quiet ones— but the revelation was hot as fuck. Santi told you that, making you smile and blush and go right back to your shy side.

He fucking loved your duality.

His third and final hint that, yes, he was right, you might be sweet but are also tough, snarky, and a badass, came somewhere around your eighth date.

“You... wanna come back to my place?”

Santi had been over to your place about a million times already, and vice versa. But it was the way you asked that made him realize you weren’t just asking for cuddles and a movie. The way you averted your eyes and said it hesitantly, so quietly that he could barely hear you, he knew what you wanted.

At least… He’s pretty sure. He didn’t want to assume. So he just said yes and drove you both there. He was nervous about asking you— what if you thought that was all he wanted? So after you’d arrived, when Santi asked, “...Did you wanna head to the bed?” It sounded more shaky than he’d intended it to.

When you turned, your smile went straight to his crotch. “That’s exactly what I wanted, Santi.”

Santi was usually the one to make the first move. But with you, for some reason, he let you lead. He let you tell him what to do. He let you pull his clothes off and kiss him senseless and push him back onto the bed. You whispered filth into his ear that made him blush, and he allowed you to make him keep his hands above his head as you nipped and bit at him and edged him until he couldn’t see straight and blindly agreed to anything you said. His spine shuddered when you called him a good boy, when you told him he deserved a reward for being so good for you— you’d climbed up to straddle him and rode him painfully slowly, and despite the death grip he had on your waist, you were the one setting the pace. He let you fuck him the way you liked, let you make him beg and writhe and whimper until you finally gave him permission to cum.

And then you launched into aftercare, cleaning you both up as Santi tried to remember who and where he was. You cuddled him close and kissed all over his face as he returned to himself. “Holy fuck, baby. Didn’t see that coming.”

You blushed. You. Who just nearly sent him into subspace. “Was it too much?”

Santi pulled you closer with a beaming grin. “No, not at all. You’re the only one I’ve ever let do that to me. You can keep doing it… I love it.”

The next morning, your shy smiles and blushing face contradicted the side of you that had made him beg for release last night. You were full of surprises and contradictions, complicated and easily underestimated.

And Santi loved every minute of it.

Give me a prompt and a character!

[holysmokesblog]

OKAYOKAY What about a young Vander x fem!Reader during the revolution, and they’re trying to infiltrate a facility or something, but it all goes terribly wrong? And maybe he and the others think that she has died, but she actually survived and comes back to them, roughed up and terribly hurt, but super fluffy sweetness as she and Vander are reunited??? I love your writing and you, thank you so much❤️❤️❤️

What a nice request! I loved!

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

Vander x reader

Words: 2.3 k

Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood, explosions

You stared at the plans that rested on the old wooden table, the bar was at its busiest hour, but you couldn't even take your eyes off the lines that remain motionless in front of your eyes. Gently slide your finger across the sewer marked with a different color trying to memorize each of them perfectly.

A strong blow shook the table where you were, completely losing concentration, you looked angrily at the drunk who had collided and was still leaning. It also wasn't your best idea to finish your escape plan on a Friday night at a bar, but all your friends were there, albeit at the bar competing over who could drink the most pitchers of beer in an hour.

You refocused on your work.

Three meters and to the left. Right. Five more meters and the stairs. Right again.

An unknown liquid spread across the planes. You gasped, lifting the piece of paper as carefully as possible trying not to tear it, but the ink was already beginning to weep. You heard a quick apology from the tripping girl and she ended up spilling her drink on your table. You had to get home, maybe if you waited for it to dry you could fix it.

You searched the crowd for your mate, still on his thirteenth pitcher in the running to break Sevika's record of eighteen consecutive pints. With the greatest of care, you held the map to go to where it was, pushing your way through the crowd that cheered the names of 'Sevika' and 'Vander'.

Silco was lying on the bar sleeping peacefully, you saw him give up after his eighth beer. You tugged at Vander's shirt to get his attention, he looked at you with his large pupils dilated.

"Sweetie! Today we go home with the record!” The faint breath of alcohol hit your nostrils, but you ignored it.

"I'm going home now," you informed him, he looked at you blankly, your friend, on the other hand, continued to drink from her own glass taking advantage of the competition. "I have to learn this before tomorrow and I can't do it here... See you at home."

"What? No! Don't go alone, it's too late, it can be dangerous,” he objected. “Silco will go with you, won't he brother?" He turned to look at his friend, but he was fast asleep drooling on the counter. "Damn brother... Ok princess, let's go home." A general lament was heard in the bar, plus Vika's celebration for keeping her record intact.

"No, I'm going fast, you can stay if you want."

"No way, besides, tomorrow will be a very important day... And also for him to rest a little." He pointed to Silco who had changed position hiding his face in his arms. "Come on princess, open the door for me please." Without effort, he got up from the stool to his friend and slung it over his shoulder like a bag of chips. You couldn't help but smile at Silco's complaints that he could still continue drinking. You said goodbye to Sevika with the promise that you'd also see her tomorrow, you walked home staying by your partner's side.

The streets of Zaun never seemed to sleep, especially on weekends, they kept up an exhaustive rhythm of people twenty-four hours a day, without a break. Something that in a certain way made it unmatched, although it was a perfect cradle for crime and misery that grew exponentially.

"What do you say, darling? Will you get us out of that place tomorrow?” Vander asked, arranging his friend better on his back.

"Do you doubt that?" you joked

"Of you? Never.” His free hand was intertwined with yours. "But it's the biggest blow so far… And the most dangerous… Those damned Piltovers will learn to look down, even if it has to be by force.”

"Long live the nation of Zaun!" Silco yelled slurring his words, you both laughed.

You played with Vander's hand that was in your possession, dragging your fingers along the knuckles of his fingers, you even traced the mine wounds and those black spots that seemed to come out with nothing. "I'm going to get them out of there, to save everyone,” you promised.

"Never did doubt it for a second."

…

Things got out of hand, especially when Silco blew up one of your bombs near a place with too many civilians. It wasn't the plan, no one got hurt in your plan, it was a warning, a warning of what the underground was capable of, not a fucking massacre, you cursed as they continued to run through the factory that could take them home.

The enforcers' bullets hit too close for your liking, but they were too close to the exit to go back, the only thing left was to continue with the escape plan. You took a second to look back, checking all your friends behind.

You turned one of the corners and forced your way into what looked like it used to be an office. You moved the desk full of debris to the right, the adrenaline and the nerves made his body not even think about your actions, you just kept repeating the plan, the plan, the plan in a loop. It was the only sure thing at the time.

Sevika and Benzo helped you move it out of the way more quickly, below it remained a rusty hatch that only showed a completely black circle.

"Are you sure this will get us back home?" Sevika questioned.

"It connects directly to the underground drain." The shouts of the enforcers roaming the area grew louder. "Do you have a better plan?" Again, shots.

With a strong blow from his gloves Vander destroyed the hatch sinking it, some stairs in poor condition were embedded against the wall. "Very well, go ahead, we don't have time."

"How do we know they won't follow us there?" Benzo asked.

"It's a fucking labyrinth, even if they followed us they couldn't get out." You sat on the edge letting your legs dangle in the dark, it wasn't possible to see the end of the darkness, quickly Vander tied one of the lamps used in the mine, you still didn't light up the ending.

You took a deep breath before repeating the plan in your head and starting down the rickety stairs, your companions following you, you couldn't count how many steps you went down, but breathed a sigh of relief when your feet made contact with the concrete. You waited for everyone to finish going downstairs when it rumbled across the entrance as the enforcers managed to enter the office where they had previously been.

"We don't have to trust each other, we're going home."

No one commented and they continued to follow you along the path you previously studied, the only sound you could hear was your footsteps and the polluted water dripping down the walls. The map stayed in your brain like a snapshot, reminding you where to turn and what shortcuts to take.

After a few minutes, the adrenaline faded from your veins making you aware of how sore and tired your body really was. Sevika scoffed, "Don't tell me you're tired, I didn't think you were so lazy."

"The last race was not in my plans," you sighed "Although not everyone respects my plans." You looked at Silco who continued walking in silence at the end, you could see how your comment did not sit well with him.

“Don't you want to make them a glitter bomb? We could offer them as a peace offering for stepping on our heads every chance they get.” He was scathing in his response, which made you even more furious.

“They were normal people, they are not to blame for this.”

“All of them are to blame, even if it is not directly, they know what is happening and still look the other way, we have to make them understand that we are not trash under their shoes!”

“You are completely blinded! There were children there!”

Silco opened his mouth to answer you but an echo throughout the dark corridor interrupted them, and another, and another a little stronger, closer and closer. They all froze trying to figure out what it was.

The rats living in the tunnels ran towards the exit, between their feet, there you were aware. “They are exploiting the tunes,” You said barely in a whisper.

"What?"

“They're blowing up the tunnel! We have to run!"

No one took more than a second to react, the walls around them were already beginning to vibrate, dropping some grains of debris. They approached a crossroads of three paths, one not on the map, one not on the plan. Vander called out your name expecting you to give an order on which way to go.

"The rats! Let's follow the rats!" In desperation no one questions your order continuing down the path that the little animals chose, you prayed that it was the right choice.

And sure enough, it was, when the gutter light shone on the ceiling, everything was still shaking violently ready to collapse and become a tomb they would never get out of if they didn't make it to the new stairs. Vander was the first to go up to knock down the start with a single, well-aimed blow.

The rest of your friends also went up to the surface, the race was not over yet, but between the streets of the lanes, it would be much easier. You put your hand on one of the stairs to help you up but the wall next to your head exploded from the impact of a bullet. You looked behind you to see an enforcer completely alone and dirty by dirt and water but he kept his rifle sign pointing in your direction.

You ran away from the exit trying to get away from him and the explosions, but his footsteps splashing through the water sounded too close. You counted five more bullets that hit close to your body, thanking the darkness that somehow offers you slight protection against the soldier's aim.

“Damn bitch! I'm going to hunt you down myself!" He yelled at you. Another bullet near you. "A medal of honor is the least I'm going to deserve when I bring you to justice!" Another one.

You didn't even know where you were going, this part of the sewer wasn't on the map, you quickened your pace more when you heard running water, a waterfall, or whatever the fuck, it had to flow somewhere. A light of day illuminated the entire tunnel as you approached.

A large outlet of water, cloudy and dark flowed directly into Lake Zaun, the one that no one approached because it was taken as a dump for toxic waste from factories. You stood on the edge of the cliff wondering whether to take the jump, the drop seemed too high, a few stories you could swear.

"Stop! And raise your hands!”

But it was a way out, the only one really.

And you jumped into the dark waters.

…

Everything looked blurry, your whole body shivered, as if all your wet extremities hardened every second. Everything itched, you guessed from how dirty the water was that you completely submerged yourself in.

The blow against the surface had hurt more than you would have imagined and the sharp pieces of debris had made small wounds all over your body. All you could think about was getting home, taking a shower and resting the whole damn day with Vander.

Vander...

God, you didn't even know if he or your friends had managed to escape safely, maybe an ambush of enforcers was waiting for them at the exit of the sewer. That idea made your eyes fill with anguished tears, but it gave you more strength to reach the meeting point, your apartment.

Hell, never in your life have you wanted to get to that uncomfortable place so much, but it seemed so convenient with your current situation. You continued dragging your feet until you reached your street, looking for a familiar face with your eyes, one that could give you information about your friends.

But there was Sevika, on the steps of the complex absentmindedly smoking a cigarette, you tried to shout her name but your throat was so sore that you just let out a pitiful groan, luckily it was enough to get the woman's attention.

"Damn," she threw the unfinished cigarette to quickly approach you, you hadn't noticed how weak your muscles were until she hugged you worriedly, not caring about the humidity of your clothes, you let yourself fall full weight on her arms, it was a relief. “Vander!” She called. “Benzo damn it! Pour something and go find Vander!” A deep relief flooded your body relaxing your muscles even more “Where the hell were you woman? Vander is freaking out and you decided it was a good idea to go swimming?

You couldn't help but smile at the acid humor of your friend who continued to support most of your weight, at least until another pair of arms lifted you completely off the ground. "We have to wash her or those wounds will fester." Your chest filled warm hearing his voice and Silco's scolding in the background, everyone was safe.

"Easy princess." Vander's voice was reassuring as if he could instantly lower your heart rate. "You'll be fine after a hot bath, you're home"

"Is everyone okay?" You knew the answer, but still need to double-check

"Yes honey, you got us all out, as you promised." Your boyfriend's warm lips rested on your forehead and stayed there for a few seconds, everything was perfect, although your bruised body indicated otherwise, you were back home, and everything would be fine.

Note: Thanks thanks thanks to @eexphoria who helps correct my grammar mistakes

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[moscnios]

                           NOVEMBER TWENTY-EIGHTH ━ﾞ

⁺◟   PROMPT . . .           “why did you run away?”

⁺◟   CHARACTERS . . .           edward newgate           trans male son!reader ( ftm )           mentions of the whitebeard pirates

⁺◟   GENRE . . .           angst           fluff           comfort           platonic           oneshot

⁺◟   SYNOPSIS . . .           the whitebeard pirates dock on an island           all too familiar to ( y/n ), that makes his           blood run cold just at the sight. things get           worse when an old name he never wished           to hear again reaches his ears.

⁺◟   CONTENT WARNINGS . . .           mentions of transphobia ‘ intentional           deadnaming ‘ alluding to child abuse

⁺◟   WORD COUNT . . .           1.5k.

⁺◟   COMMENTARY . . .           i do know that november is long           gone but i wanted to at least finish           the event. i think this is among my           favorite things i’ve ever written.

          ( d/n ) = dead name

A distant hoot of an owl accompanied the gentle chirping of the crickets that scurried across the hard ground, through the high grasses and domestic flowers. 

What seemed like a hundred fireflies, shined dimly over a small pond somewhere deep in this huge forest, on this barely explored island. Though barely explored, a small port town had formed on its edge, leaving the the rest unexplored territory for the many creatures big and small.

Who knew what was in these woods, lurking in the shadows, crawling around all over, sniffling on the eroded pond bank-

A young boy sat on the eroded shoreline of the small pond, his eyes focused on the shallow waters before him, as he brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He watched the fireflies move from the reflective water, as he seemed deep in thought.

His eyes both red and puffy from crying. At some point, he had no tears left to cry and could only let out dry sniffles, as he tore himself apart from the inside. The young boy’s clothes were a bit tattered, the fabric catching on nearby trees as he ran as fast as he could through the forest just hours ago, ignoring his brother’s cries and calls for him to stop. But his legs did not stop, he continued. With each step, he felt himself fall further into a deeper despair, one that he knew his brothers would never understood...one he knew Pops wouldn’t understand.

( y/n ) reached for a blue necklace that mimicked a blue cross with a crescent curve jutting out from the bottom around his neck, fiddling with it between the tips of his fingers as he remembered when he joined the Whitebeard Pirates.

A petty thief.

That’s what he was.

A thief who stole from the rich and gave to the poor...sometimes, when he wasn’t on the brink of death, as he traveled the New World alone, as a runaway. All he had were the clothes on his back, a bow, a few arrows, and the name he clung onto for dear life. It was not enough to keep him going for much longer.

By chance, ( y/n ) had gotten wrapped up in a group of pirates he had no business with. When he had prepared for death, a man as tall a building back from where he came from how towered over his captors, a weapon at his side and a rather annoyed expression on his face.

He remembered the fear in his eyes, the trembling in his body as he recognized the man.

Whitebeard.

His captors were long gone, leaving him all alone. As the giant man was about to ask if he were okay, the young boy took his bow and two arrows, aiming them at the giant. His trembling, sweaty hands made his bow shake in his hands, showing just truly how terrified he was.

He could even remember his stuttering voice.

“Don’t...don’t pity me. I’ll...I’ll put these right between in your eyes, old man!”

 Whitebeard could only give a hearty laugh, making ( y/n ) lower his bow and look down at the boy. He could see a bit of himself in ( y/n ), being able to almost read him.

“Where’s your home....son?”

Son...

No one had ever called him that before.

Hearing a complete stranger say it...it felt almost freeing. He felt a joy he never felt before! He felt like had finally escaped! He felt validated!

He was valid. 

 He hadn’t even noticed Whitebeard continuing.

“You don’t have a home, do you?”

His answer was met with a shake from ( y/n )’s head. Without a second to spare, the giant reached out his hand, “Join my crew...become my son.”

And he took it. He kept to himself at first, fearful of his new brothers and the people they were. He had seen many of pirates just like them, who had only hurt innocent people. Though his feelings quickly changed after getting to know them.

They were a true family.

Then why did he run? Why did he ignore their pleas?

It was this island...his homeland in which he had run away from years ago with nothing. When the island had come into view out from the deck of the Moby Dick, he froze as the color drained from his face. That was when Whitebeard first noticed his son’s strange behavior.

As the ship had come to a stop, decking in the port, ( y/n ) kept his head low, hiding behind Marco like a child as he stayed quietly mostly. When the usual teasing of his brothers began, instead of laughing like he usually did he was tense, biting his quivering bottom lip, brushing them off, becoming distant. Until Ace being his usual playful self had told his brother to lighten up and gave him a soft punch on the shoulder and ( y/n ) snapped.

“I CAN’T LIGHTEN UP! I’M BACK HERE AGAIN!”

Regret set in, as he covered his mouth. He didn’t mean to yell at Ace, he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t understand. When he reached out to his brother to apologize, a voice sounded from behind him, a familiar voice that was the cause of his deepest fears and darkest nightmares.

“( d/n )? Is that...is that really you?”

He had become even more tense. His dead name.

( y/n ) saw the confused faces of his brothers and his father, as they looked at the owner of the voice that stood only feet away from them.

“Oi! I think you got the wrong person. There’s no ( d/n ) here.” One of his brothers questioned.

The panic that had already settled in his chest began to rise, knowing what was going to happen next. The fear of his brothers and his father knowing the truth about who he was...who he used to be. Would they respect him? Would they treat him differently if they knew?

Would they call him a―

He ran, ran deep into the forest and now he was here at the pond. 

He could hear the crumbling of leaves from behind him, making him reach for his bow, as he peeked over his shoulder. A familiar giant came into view, making him drop the bow and look back to the pond, seeing himself in the reflection of the water.

“There you are,” Whitebeard spoke, “Why did you run away?”

His son stayed silent, making him sigh. The giant man sat down. He placed Murakumogiri next to him, as he looked at the fireflies floating above the pond, “You have a knowledge of this island. Is this where you were born?”

( y/n ) hummed as a response.

“That person who had came up to us, do you know―”

“STOP!”

He dug into the fabric of his pants, tears beginning to form again, “Please just stop, Pops.”

“I won’t understand unless you tell me. I can’t know what’s wrong unless you open up to me.”

A brief silence sounded between the father and son until ( y/n ) spoke, “Did...did that person tell you all anything?”

“They seemed just as confused as we all were. After you ran off, they distanced themselves from the boys who were giving them glares. They didn’t say anything after saying that name.”

“Pops...?”

“Hmm?”

“I...I wasn’t...born like this.”

“Like what?” He questioned, he already knew what ( y/n ) had meant. He had known for a long time, however it was never his business and kept it to himself.

Tears began to flood down his cheeks, “That name...is my old name. They were looking for me because I ran away from home to be my true self. To be...a man. I was born female, but I...I never felt that I was female but they told me that was possible. They told me I was wrong, I was just dumb, I was just not in my right mind, I was just sick! I’m not sick! I’m not...crazy!”

The young wrapped his arms around himself, “Do you think different of me now?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Whitebeard’s mouth, as he climbed back to his feet, grabbing Murakumogiri. He extended his hand to the boy whose back had faced him.

“You’re still my son, ( y/n ).”

( y/n ) snapped his head over his shoulder, “Pops...”

“It doesn’t matter who or what you were in your past. It only matters who you in this moment. And in the past, you may have been someone’s daughter. But in this moment, you are my son. There is nothing that will stop you from being my son, ( y/n ).”

The father petted the top of his crying son’s head.

“Thank you, Pops. I’m...s-sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. We’ll keep this between you and I, unless you want to tell the boys.”

He shook his head, “Not now...I’m...I’m not ready.”

“And that’s okay. Whenever you’re ready, they’ll be ready to listen. We’re a family, ( y/n ).”

⁺◟   BACK TO NAVIGATION . . .

[vodkassassin]

Hello supreme overlord, ruler of all, writer of the most amazing of sentances and of the nicest of words, could you please write SQQ and SQH interacting in public and forgetting where they are so they just share friendly touches (like touch-starved millenials do) which ppl see and loose their minds over? Like SQH casually throws his hand over SQQ's shoulder and the other just looks pleased youdon'thavetoifyoudon'twantto Ty <3

Moth babe I swear to god

Here’s some platonic cucumberplane for you guys! @overlordmoth

-

Shen Yuan has been in the body of Shen Qingqiu for seven months. Seven warm months of early spring, a beautiful, gorgeous summer befitting of a xianxia world, and a colorful yet mild fall.

He’s been so busy with worrying about the plot, about dismantling the OOC function, about what this exasperating, crazy world (or the System) would throw at him next, that he hasn’t really had the chance to concern himself with the smaller things, like the weather. Especially since those smaller things have been content to be rather wonderful and non-problematic.

Until now, that is. It’s the beginning of his eighth month in this ridiculous place, and it seems winter is finally here.

Yesterday, now that Shen Qingqiu has the belated gift of hindsight, he realizes that all the trees — usually so full of brightly colored leaves in warm tones of oranges and reds and yellows and even some pinks — they’d all gone completely skeletal, very abruptly losing all those final leaves at once. And, seemingly overnight, three feet of snow apparently fell to blanket the mountain sect — because it’s a mountain! Lots of snow! Who’s grand idea was it to build the sect high up on a mountain range? Fuck you, Airplane! — while Shen Qingqiu was asleep, and now….

Shen Qingqiu kicks the door that obstructs his way open with his foot, and Shang Qinghua flinches back in his seat across the room.

“I’m sorry! What? Oh! U—Um, hey bro, what’s —?”

Crossing the office, Shen Qingqiu takes a brief, self-indulgent moment to loom over his fellow transmigrator and watch him sweat, before he whips open his fan and presses the tip of one of its spokes to his mouth in contemplation.

“Scoot over.”

“What?” Shang Qinghua asks, and squeaks when Shen Qingqiu doesn’t wait any longer before plopping down directly beside him and leaning over to burrow into his side. “Sh-Shen bro—?!”

“It’s fucking cold,” Shen Qinqiu hisses, “and I am wearing silk. And I own nothing but silk! Who’s idea was that, huh, Qinghua?”

Shang Qinghua doesn’t make a sound for a few long seconds, but Shen Qingqiu can feel the man trembling. He can’t tell, however, whether it is because the man is nervous or laughing at him.

“I-I would have assumed it was Shen-shixiong’s idea, seeing as how it’s his wardrobe,” Shang Qinghua finally says, voice shaking, and clearly talking about the original goods, whose character and wardrobe he had written himself!

It sounds enough like mocking that Shen Qingqiu gives into his urge and snaps his fan closed, using it to jab his friend — yes, his friend — in the ribs. The shorter man yelps.

“Ow! Bro, c’mon—!”

“I’ll kill you.” Shen Qingqiu tells him in a stage whisper, lifting his eyebrows up to show how serious he is about it.

“You would never.” Shang Qinghua sounds so sure of himself. “You love me too much, bro!”

“Would you stop squirming?” Shen Qingqiu huffs in irritation as the other peak lord’s movements makes him slip off his shoulder and slide down to land in his lap instead. “Shang Qinghua!”

“I didn’t do it!” Shang Qinghua wails, nonetheless teaching out to wrap an arm around Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder and tugging him up a bit to rest against his chest instead. “There, is that better? You know, you interrupted me. I’m trying to work!”

“You can still write with me here, stop whining,” Shen Qingqiu gripes, and leans forward to shove his frozen nose directly against Shang Qinghua’s neck. The man jerks back and whines.

“Stop! You’re cold!”

“I know, that’s why I’m here! Order me a winter wardrobe right now!”

“I don’t have the right forms for that at my desk!” His friend says, a brush dripping ink still held aloft in one hand. “I’ll have a disciple hunt them down for me and do it later!”

“I’ll turn into a popsicle before then! Bitch, do I look like Captain America to you?” Shen Qingqiu demands.

“You ain’t nearly blonde enough,” Shang Qinghua huffs, setting down his brush and rubbing some warmth into his bro’s upper arm. The other sighs slightly and leans even more of his weight into him. Neither of them are very heavy, though, so it doesn’t make much of a difference. “You wanna borrow one of my fur-lined robes until I get you your own?”

“I could kiss you for that,” Shen Qingqiu admits. “Please.”

There’s a loud, strangled sound from the doorway.

Both of them whip their heads around to stare in surprise at the utterly befuddled Yue Qingyuan that stands in the doorway. Slightly behind the sect leader, a red-faced Luo Binghe stares at the two cuddling peak lords with wide eyes. A few seconds tick by in complete silence, before the boy turns away and flees.

“Uh,” Shang Qinghua says smartly.

Shen Qingqiu withholds a groan and smacks his friend on the shoulder with an open palm, burying his face into Shang Qinghua’s neck so that he doesn’t have to look at the still-staring sect leader. “Well, shit.”

“I—” Yue Qingyuan attempts to speak, but his voice fails him immediately, and the three peak lords are left in a stifling, awkward silence.

Shang Qinghua clears his throat. “M-Maybe sect leader should come back later?” He asks.

Shen Qingqiu is suddenly hyper-aware of the arm that his friend has wrapped around him, and the way he’s sitting across Shang Qinghua’s thighs, and mentally swears again. This is a little bit too much for ancient China xianxia sensibilities, isn't it? Fuck.

Yue Qingyuan tries to speak again, but no words come out. After a second, the man settles for giving them a sharp nod. He then turns on his heel and leaves without a word.

Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua stare at one another in silence.

“Awkward.” Shen Qingqiu eventually manages, burrowing even closer against his friend. Honestly, he’s just too fucking cold to be overly concerned about the consequences of this blunder just yet.

“I hate you.” Shang Qinghua says, reaching a hand up to hit him. There’s absolutely no power behind it at all. “This is your fault.”

“It absolutely is not,” Shen Qingqiu denies. “You’re the one who gave me an entirely silk wardrobe. Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

“Please,” someone whimpers, and they turn to see Shang Qinghua’s head disciple cowering in the corner of the room, beet-red face buried into both his hands. “Please, stop.”

“Haha, whoops,” Shang Qinghua laughs nervously. “Sorry, A-Kao! Why don’t you take a break?”

“I’m never coming back,” the disciple says, emotionally. He pushes away from the wall and high tails it out of the offices faster than even Luo Binghe had fled.

The two of them are silent as they watch him leave.

“God dammit,” Shen Qingqiu sighs tiredly. He slumps even further against Shang Qinghua, and the other man adjusts his grip on him. “The System is going to kill me for this later.”

“Not if we kill it first,” Shang Qinghua says, a malicious light appearing in his eyes.

Shen Qingqiu looks up at him. “... I’m listening.”

They both ignore the neon red, flashing warning screens that only they can see.

[malfoysmaybank]

drivers license - stanley barber

a/n: i was having some writers block on my requests and i’ve been sobbing to this song on repeat, so here’s a fic for my bebs stanley barber. i also changed one lyric from “blonde girl” to “one girl” because it fit the plot more!

warnings: angst, you might cry (i did while writing this lols), parent absence, fluff at the end because i couldn’t break my heart with this one, but some straight angst is coming soon!!!!

word count: 1.7k+

------------------------------------------------------

You had been best friends with Stanley Barber since you were young, maybe 10. You had stood up for him when some kids were pushing him around because of his outfit. 

“Hey! Get off of him!” You said, yelling at the trio of 5th grade boys pushing another boy to the ground. “Or what, Y/N? You’ll tattle? We aren’t scared of a girl.” The leader of the pack said. You clenched your jaw and punched him straight in the nose. You weren’t going to let a man talk to you like that. The leader started crying and ran off, his sidekicks following after him. You walked over to the boy on the ground and helped him up. “T-Thanks for that.” He said as he got back up. “No problem. I’m Y/N, by the way. Y/N Y/L/N.” You extended your hand for a handshake. He took it. “Stanley. Stanley Barber.”

You’ve been close ever since. You ate lunch with him that day and  bonded over silly things like tv shows and favorite colors. In middle school, he helped you develop your style and you bonded over new things like favorite bands and books. You had his back and he had yours. He truly was your best friend.

However, you started seeing Stanley in a new light in eighth grade. He had gotten taller, his face a little more structured. He also learned how to play guitar that year. He wrote a song about you, of all things. Nobody had ever done something like that for you before. You started noticing the little things he did for you. He would randomly bring a bag of your favorite candy to lunch if he saw you were having a bad day. He taught you how to play piano because he thought it sounded nice with your voice. You fell in love with Stanley Barber. Fuck. Of course you’d NEVER tell him. You couldn’t fuck up the only good thing in your life right now. So that meant silently suffering whenever he had a crush on someone.

That’s the issue, you couldn’t be happy for him when he was with someone else. You spent countless days crying alone in your room after he’d go on for hours about his newest crush. This continued for a straight 3 years. His newest crush was Sydney Novak. You thought this one would blow over, just like his past few, but it didn’t. In fact, this one was the strongest crush he’s ever had. He’d been ditching you to hang out with her. He wasn’t even there to see you get your drivers license, something he’d been so encouraging about. He basically taught you how to drive because he knew how much it meant to you. He didn’t even know you had passed your test, never once asking. But in the sparse moments when he didn’t blow off plans, he’d constantly be talking about her. One of those sparse moments being tonight.

You were currently in his room/basement and he was going on one of his Sydney rants. “She’s so cool, Y/N. I mean, I’ve never met someone who I’ve clicked with more.” Um ouch, but whatever. “I don’t know, she’s just different. Like, in a good way though.” Three deep breaths, Y/N. 3… “We even hooked up the other night.” 2… “I think I’m in love with her.” 1. “Look Stanley, not to be rude, but do you EVER shut up about her?!” You spat. He looked over at you in shock. “I can’t do this tonight… I’m leaving.” You grab your ‘save the earth’ backpack and start jogging up the stairs to leave. 

He follows as you open the door to his garage. “Woah, woah, woah, Y/N. What’s up?” Stan calls from behind you. You grab your skateboard and lift up the garage door. It’s pouring outside, but you don’t care. You go to leave but feel a hand on your wrist stop you. “You’re not going out in weather like that, just come inside and we can talk.” He says gently, still slightly confused. “About what, Sydney again? Don’t you get it Stanley?!” You snap in his face. His eyebrows furrow and you let out a sarcastic laugh, tears building in your eyes. “Of course you don’t. You’ve been so wrapped up in Sydney that you forgot who I was! I’m so done, Stan. I can’t sit here and pretend that I don’t care anymore. Don’t bother hanging out with me anymore.” You snap and rip your wrist away from Stanley’s grip. 

You drop your board and get on, pushing as fast as you can. He calls after you but you block him out. When you’re a far distance away from him and his house, you just sit down on the side of the road and cry. Hurt that he’ll never be yours. Angry that he doesn’t care about you anymore. Frustrated because you tried to be the glue that held your friendship together, but even glue can’t fix the titanic.

You didn’t go to school for the next week. Your parents wouldn’t care, they weren’t even here. Still on some ‘business trip’ just like every week. Instead, you did something that calms you. Wrote music about how you were feeling. You played piano basically all week. Singing anything and everything you were feeling. It made you feel worse sometimes, but in the end it felt worth it.

Stan pulled into your driveway in his dad’s piece of shit car. He needed to work this out with you, he hadn’t seen you all week and he was worried. He missed his best friend. As he quietly closed the car door, he heard the piano playing. He didn’t recognize the song, he was curious. He didn’t even bother knocking, knowing you would slam the door in his face if you knew it was him. He quietly shut the front door and he heard your voice. It got louder as he walked closer to your bedroom door. He’d always loved your voice, it put him to sleep some nights. He could see you slightly, the door left ajar. He listened in.

“I got my drivers license last week,

Just like we always talked about.

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house.

But today I drove through the suburbs,

Crying 'cause you weren't around”

You sang flawlessly, not a single note out of tune. There was so much emotion behind your voice. So much hurt, anger, frustration. He continued listening, trying to find out who caused you so much hurt. He’d bash their face in, that’s for sure.

“And you're probably with that one girl

Who always made me doubt.

She's so much older than me,

She's everything I'm insecure about”

With that first line, it hit him. He’d caused this hurt. The anger, the frustration, that was him. He was so angry with himself that he almost missed the next line… almost.

“Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs,

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?”

You… you loved him? He’d spent so much time on Sydney that he hadn’t even realized what was in front of him all these years. Except he had.

“And I know we weren't perfect, but I've never felt this way for no one.

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.”

God damn it! He could’ve confessed sooner, instead of ignoring his feelings. And for what? A mindless hookup with Sydney?! He could’ve had you this whole time, but he fucked up.

“....Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me.”

You said that line softly. No anger, or frustration, or even confusion behind that line. Just hurt. He saw a single tear fall down your cheek as you stopped singing. There was more to that song, you just couldn’t continue. He’d be sure to ask you to sing the rest of it later, but right now he needed to fix this. You stood up from the piano bench and he burst through the door. “Stanley, what are you doi-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he wrapped his arms around you and brought your head to his chest. “I meant every word of that damn song. Every word. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” Tears flowed down your face as you tightly hugged him back and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I love you. And I’ll be better for you. I should’ve treated you with the respect and love you deserve. I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please give me a second chance, please.” He cried. “I love you too, Stan.” You started. “But I don’t know.” He squeezed you tighter (but still as gentle as possible, he didn’t want to hurt you), with more tears flowing out of his eyes. “Please, Y/N. I’ll be better. If I give you anything less than the love and attention you deserve, you have my full permission to punch me square in the face and kick me to the curb.” You both giggled, still crying. 

He let go of you to hold your face in his hands. “Please?” He begged. “...Okay, fine. But we need to go over how you’re going to do better in the future and what we can do to help each other communicate better and stuff.” You said. He picked you up and spun you around, making you squeal. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Y/N!! I promise I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” You laughed as he set you down and leant down to whisper in your ear. “Want to hear a secret?” He said, sending shivers down your spine. “I never liked Sydney.” He laughed as you hit his chest. “You dick!” You exclaimed, shocked. He swiftly pulled you in by the waist, your faces inches apart as your hands rested on his chest. ���You love me, though.” He whispered. “That I do.” You said and finally closed the gap. Damn, you could kiss this boy forever. Alas, the moment is cut short because unfortunately, humans need oxygen to survive. “I love you too.” He says and smiles, giving you a peck on the forehead. “Could you sing the rest of that song for me? I love your voice but that songwriting was INCREDIBLE.” He says and you nod.

------------------------------------------------------

permanent taglist: 

@loonylunaandthenargles​

[princelyhelp]

okay but where is all the tea tho 👀

OH BABY THIS IS LONG!!!! BECAUSE I HAD TO GO THROUGH MY HEAD OF EVERYTHING IVE BEEN APART OF!!!! read down below for the problematic place known as the rpc

my og gallagher rp ( my first group <3 ) : : THEY KEPT!!!! TELLING ME!!!! THAT TUMBLR ATE MY APP!!!! when really i formatted it wrong and the admins just refused to tell me and i'm still butt hurt about it. but it's whatever, that was my first tumblr group ever so we live and move on

disney rp ( my second group ) : : NOTHING WRONG HERE!!! EVERYONE WAS SO NICE, THEY LOVED MY MINAH FC, THEY LOVED ME, I LOVED THEM!!!! had to close because of activity :( still sad

the island / dating rp ( my third group ) : : other than me having to join with a white fc ( changed that shit as soon as they accepted me ), the admin was planning on closing and revamping the group, saying that "it's not active enough" and ignoring the fact that many of us were still extremely active on the dash. instead of telling us that we could keep our character, she told us we would have to reapply and go against others to be accepted. which wasn't cool but we didn't make the situation better because we made a group to spite the admin. both died within two days xoxo

the family / adopted family rp ( my fourth group ) : : i tried to join using min from miss a as a fc and the admins told me that if i used a korean fc that no one would rp with me because "she doesn't know english". immediate red flag, still joined bc i was a dumbass thirteen year old. shit died within a month

the agency rp ( my fifth group ) : : nothing too bad here, they were cool. lowkey miss them, lowkey dont 

the divergent rp ( my sixth group ) : : hm,,,,, it was,,,,, okay. i left after a week

the high school rp ( my seventh group ) : : OKAY I LOVED THIS GROUP!!!! my only problem ( and in all of these groups minus the og gallagher rp bc i played a white woman ), that no one really plotted with me or tried to do more with my characters. because i ONLY played characters of colors but specifically south korean characters. no ships, barely any friendships, nothing really. i was just there!!! vibing!!!! left after two months and never heard from the group 

gossip girl rp ( my eighth group that i joined twice ) : : same thing!!! people barely interreacted with me bc of my fcs <3 

I TOOK A BREAK !!!!

tv show rp ( my tenth group ) : : BEST, MISS THEM, PLEASE COME BACK TO ME!!!!!!! 

i tried to join a skeleton rp using vernon from seventeen and the admins told me that i couldn’t use him bc 1) “he didn’t have any gifs” he most def did if they looked in the tags and did a google search and 2) he didn’t fit into their aesthetic aka he wasn’t white enough for them. 

high school rp : : A MESS, PROBLEMATIC AF!!!! you had people doing a whole cheating / bully plot which is like cool if handled properly but they were extremely cliquely and just nasty for no reason??? AND THEN!!! WHEN CALLED OUT FOR THIS!!! A WHOLE BUNCH OF THEM LEFT AND CREATED THEIR OWN GROUP JUST SO THEY CAN KEEP DOING THAT PLOT. they’re still around and seem to be thriving, wouldnt join again

the spy rp : : it was great in the beginning!!!! until people who first joined left the group ( they were uncomfy with some of the new people and didn’t like how they were personality wise ). so my friends and i made our own server since they were all gone from the group except for me. but we had a snake who told the admin this and the admin got upset??? and tried to talk shit about all of those members who left ( like a sporadic leave you know??? ) but i couldn’t just sit there so i stood up for them and fought back the many people who tried to come for my friends. i left after that bc fuck them. the group tried to revamp after that but ended up closing within a week, i no longer talk to that group bc of school and they kicked me out of the server OAJGAOGAGA

THE JAZZY RP!!!! : : I JOINED HER GROUP AS A JOKE JUST TO SEE IF SHE WAS REALLY RACIST AND BITCH!!! SHE WAS!!!! i have the screenshots, i sent them to people, and i called her out. she put my ass on A FUCKING TIMER IN THE SERVER!!!! DELETED MY COMMENTS!!!!! AND THEN KICKED ME OUT BECAUSE I WAS RUTHLESS!!!! my greatest moment tbh, would do it again

this could be longer but i gotta work and my brain was going zzzzz a lot but!!!! most of my stuff had to do with people being straight up racist by denying me entry into groups because i used non white fcs, avoiding plotting with me because of said fcs, and just ignoring me in general. people are,,,, doing better with non white fcs! well better than before <3 go rpc <3

[toutallyahoe]

Essay Trouble ~ Hermione Granger (Harry Potter)

requested by: --

a/n: need more (top) male reader inserts and i bring you a straight one lol

been a while writing female x male reader as i tend to write more male x male reader but nevertheless, i will give my queens some loving <3

like, please... look at her, shes a queen <3

also, before anyone tries to point out some shit. no, i do not support J.K. Rowling. yes, i still like her HP and FBAWTFT series but God will be damned if i support her and the other TERFs. if you're a TERF, please block me and also fuck off

also, Hermoine is trans. Hermoine headcanon being trans is canon now. you CAN'T change my mind

Eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as Hermoine looked at her book. She had been reading the same sentence over and over but oddly enough, she didn't seem to understand. Hermione's head been clouding over other things than doing her homework which was already almost done with neatly written eighth inch of worded essay of how the infection of being warewolves had started.

She had already worked on it for the past two days but it seemed to tumbled her out. Not understanding the same sentence she had tried to be reading for around five minutes or so now made Hermoine let out an annoyed huff as she finally put it down.

The female looked around where she was. Book shelves lined up with many books about the history of magic to muggle studies books, neatly piled up which honestly made Hermoine quite happy to see. Some long tables where no one seemed to occupy except for the young Gryffindor, Hermoine and a-- Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. Squinting her eyes, she let out another annoyed huff.

'Is he sleeping here in the library?!?' Hermoine had thought as she was absolutely angered.

One student, male from his body stucture, and according to the blue on his robes, was a Ravenclaw, was asleep. It honestly baffled Hermoine to see a Ravenclaw-- a Ravenclaw of all things be sleeping in a library. A place of learning.

Pushing her seat back quietly, not to disturb anyone despite no one other than her, the sleeping Ravenclaw, and madam Pince who was at her little side of the library stamping books that have been returned and minding her own were in the library. Not like a certain Gryffindor girl who stood up from her seat and was approaching the sleeping Ravenclaw boy who was two tables away from her.

As she had approached the sleeping student, Hermoine noticed the scatter of quills and opened ink bottles. Some parchment that some have written works or crumpled pieces, and also some books stacked together on the right side of the asleep student's head. Three opened book in front of him and if Hermoine had to guess those books correctly, those were all Muggle studies text book of the sixth year. Making the young man either a year older than her or he was just reading advance books. Hermoine thought the former was more possible though as she had sneaked a peak on what the sleeping male was writing.

Hermoine was standing beside the student's sleeping form. From what Hermoine can see was only the ruffled and untidy [Hair color] locks of the sleeping student along with some patch of [Skin color] skin that weren't hidden from his robes. His face hidden from his arms that he prompted on the surface of the table. Covering some parts of the essay he was writing about World War one.

Hermoine, curious on what the sleeping male had written about her muggle looked at it. It was a very immoral thing to do, looking at others work and without their permission (in Hermione's beliefs that is) but her curiosity took over her. Hesitantly, Hermoine had took the parchment that was underneath the sleeping Ravenclaw.

A soft sigh left Hermione's lips when she had succesfully taken out the parchment with out disturbing the sleeping male. Her eyes looked at the asleep student then to the parchment in her hand. Hermoine started to read.

To say the least, Hermoine was quite pleased to have seen the Ravenclaw's essay was very accurate to what she had also read and what her parents had told her about. If Hermoine had to estimate, the essay was already around thirteenth inch long and she could tell the sleeping student was still not done with how the end of the sentence seemed to make way for more information.

Hermoine looked at the table and saw another parchment that was full of written words and she assumed that ut was probably the first page of the essay as the one she was holding started halfway of the war already. Describing each country's strategize and weapons used and all those what knot that made Hermoine approve on how much information the sleeping student had researched on.

Hermoine looked at the asleep male then at the parchment on the table as her hand then slowly approached to the table surface to take the writtened parchment away. As she had touched the parchment, a sudden scream left her lips but immediately shut it up when she remembered she was in the library and didn't want madam Pince to kick her out for disrupting the peace.

The cause of her reaction was the hand holding her wrist. Hermoine's eyes widened in fear when she saw and felt her wrist were grabbed.

"What... are you doing," a voice spoke to her. Hermoine turned to look only to be quite relieved that the hand belongs to the Ravenclaw who was now awake. Not fully awake as he lifted his head up from his arms, his eyes were half-lidded. Showing how he was still not one with the real world as he was dozing off to Morpheus' embrace.

Hermoine had to admit, the male had a lovely shade of [Eye color] eyes to compliment his hair and skin.

"What does... a Gryffindor want with my papers?" [Name] had asked. Yawning in between his sentence as his half-lidded eyes filled with drowsiness turned into a sharp glare that made Hermoine gulp. The hold on her wrist tighten as she saw the Ravenclaw held his head up. And seeing the frown on his lips and that small taint of anger on his [Eye color] eyes made Hermoine rethink on her decisions to be nosy.

"I am terribly sorry!" Hermoine squeaked out. "I was just curious on what you were writing!" She softly cried as the male looked at her in the eye.

A second passed in silence and the stare down made Hermoine's nerves tighen in a knot. It felt like hours when un real time was only around twenty-two seconds before [Name] had let go of her wrist.

"You could've woken me up instead of reading with out my permission," [Name] grunted as he swiped off the parchment on Hermione's hand and placed it on the table. Turning away from Hermoine who stood mouth agape as he then ignored her and picked up a quill and started writing on the parchment where was still left unfinished. Dipping his quill on an opened ink bottle before he did so to write.

Hermoine stood there with mind boggled. In hand, she was absolutely furious on how the male was just plain rude to her. But on the other hand, she guess it was justified when how she just took his parchment without his permission.

'Well, he didn't have to be rude about it!' Hermoine had angrily thought but had let out a squeak when she saw the Ravenclaw student turned his head to look at her. Raising a brow as to silently question on what she was doing, standing there. Unmoving.

"Are you going stand there like a petrified victim of a Basilisk?" [Name] had asked which made Hermoine enrage at his words. It made her remember of her sceond year in Hogwarts. The time where the Chamber of Secrets were opened and she was a victim of patrification. Luckily, Harry Potter had conquered the horrid beast and put a close to the chamber. Glaring at the male, she turned around to go.

"You have don't have to be a rude prat on telling me to go," Hermoine muttered underneath her breathe.

"And who said I wanted you to go?" [Name] asked.

Hermoine froze.

'What...?' Hermoine had thought as she turned her head to look at the Ravenclaw only to see him back on looking at his parchment and scribbling his quill onto it.

"I'm sorry?" Hermoine softly said. Confusion in her tone.

[Name] didn't even bat an eye to her as he continued to write on his essay. He merely blunt out his amswer, uncaringly. "I have seen you prompted up on that table, two tables away from here, for days now and you always had that look of suffering," he had said.

Hermoine was baffled. Mouth agape as she looked at the nonchalant male scribbling away.

"Excuse me?" Hermoine had asked. Rather both angered and confused.

"What I mean is, I could help whatever is ailing you," [Name] had said as he rolled his eyes. Siding a quick look at the Gryffindor female standing aghast.

"You are having trouble, are you not?" He asked. Tilting his head to the side as he sent Hermoine a look of confusion.

"I... um..." Muttered Hermoine as her feeling of angered slowly diminished when she realized the male was actually offering her help. She was quiet shy though as she always was the "smart" one in her little group of friend (which consisted of the boy who lived and a bloodtraitor). So, a person willing to give her help rather taunting her of her heritage (Malfoy and his goons) or just be brushed off (most of her year level classmates), it made her feel happy.

"A... a bit..." Hermoine had said. A warmth feeling was rushing on the Gryffindor female as the Ravenclaw nodded at her.

"Alright," he had stated as he went back to writing.

Hermoine stood awkwardly in place as she thought that maybe the Ravenclaw student either forgotten about her existence despite him resonding seconds ago or maybe he was just joking about the offer of help. She was about to ask about it when the Ravenclaw male had looked at her. Sending an annoyed look at her direction.

"Well?" He asked annoyed. "Are you going to get your things over so I could help or should I cast Accio to get it?"

Hermoine looked at him baffled. He was rude but he was also willing to help her ot with her essay. So, she nodded her head and immediately went to go and fetch her things. As Hermoine turned her back away from him, a soft smile made it's way onto [Name]'s lips.

"Hermoine Granger... nice to officially meet you..." [Name] softly muttered as he went back to looking at his essay and began to write again. Smile lingering for a second until it was gone. Like it wasn't there in the first place.

Hermoine came back to where the rude Ravenclaw student with a huff. Puffing her cheeks for a seconds until she shakes her head and sighed. 'Common Hermoine, he can't be that bad if he offered you help!' She had thought. Trying to think positively to not be angered or annoyed with the male student who had sent her a quick gaze then look backed to her parchment which she noticed was almost done. [Name] gestured to the seat next to him with his other hand and Hermoine hesitantly went to it.

Gently putting her things down onto the table, Hermoine took the chair underneath the tabke then sat at it. Scooching a bit away to keep distance to the male student who she realized had not asked his name yet.

And as if he was reading her mind, he had just said out of a blue.

"[Name]," he had said. The Gryffindor blinked.

"What?" Hermoine had asked, confused. [Name] in return rolled his eyes.

"That's my name," [Name] said in a bored tone.

"Oh! Um... my names--" Hermoine started but was rudely cut off by the male. "Give me your essay."

Enrage, Hermoine took her parchment where it had contained her essay and shoved it onto [Name]'s outstretched hand hard. Hermoine saw that [Name] didn't seemed to be bothered by what she had done which made her honestly angry a bit.

[Name] scanned at her essay as he then put it in front her on the table.

"Your essay is going well," he said which made Hermoine feel proud of herself. Angery slowly diminishing away. "But its sloppy," [Name] bluntly said.

Anger was back as Hermoine glared at him when she had snapped out of her momentary shock. "P... pardon?" She asked.

"You didn't start off on the history of warewolves. You did not specify why there are those kinds of beings and why they itch to bite," [Name] had said as he looked at Hermoine in the eye. Each word made Hermione's blood boil. It was the first time someone had said those to her. Calling her work sloppy as she was used to have people praise her academics brilliantly.

"And you certainly did not have any conclusion on why they shapeshift back to human when they can stay as horrid beast."

The last comment made Hermoine burst. It was not the comment on her work. Yes, it was a factor but what made her fully burst in rage was that [Name] had called werewolves as 'horrid beast'. Hermoine remembered Remus Lupin, or rather, professor Lupin, her DADA professor on her third year in Hogwarts that was a werewolf.

Hermoine remembered how kind and sweet professor Lupin was despite being a warewolf and she did not condone anyone talking badly at warewolves because of her experience of a very kind one of their kind.

"Escuse me? 'Horrid beast'?!?" Hermoine had said. Her tone was close to shouting but she tried to calm herself down. That did not stop the angered glare she sent to the Ravenclaw who looked at her. There was surprised plastered in his face for a second before it was wiped out with boredom replacing it.

"Yes," [Name] said. Not paying mind the glare that Hermoine was sending him. "Horrid beast... anyone can be a horrid beast... with or without being a warwolf," he had said. Hermoine was about to counter when she realized what he had said.

"What? An... anyone?" Hermoine had dumbly asked. [Name] didn't say anything as he looked at the parchment he had placed in front Hermoine then looked at his.

"Correct you chronological order of the warewolves history then go to the bite and its cause," [Name] had said. Dropping the subject as he went back to writing at his essay. [Name] would occasionally look at the text book opened in front of him then going back to writing.

Hermoine sat dumbly there for a second or so. When she realized that the Ravenclaw would not answer her, she decided to rewrite her essay like what [Name] had said to her.

On other times, Hermoine would poke and poke until she knew what he was meaning to say but the Gryffindor female saw that the subject was a very fragile one. There was something forbidden about it like the that Philosopher Stone business in her first year. But this time, she did not try her luck and ask for more content on it.

Hermoine did as told. She started writing the history if warewolves. Who was the first one to be a werewolf, how and why. The cause of being bitten and evrything that [Name] had said to her awhile ago.

The two sat in a comfortable silence where the onky spund were the scratching of quills, papers shuffled and some occasional mutter from either Hermoine or [Name].

About an hour or two, Hermoine finished her essay on the history of warewolves and the infection is caused when bitten. On that time being in the middle fo writing, she would occasionally be assisted by [Name]. Him pointing out some small mistakes that she had corrected and would also give her basic background. Hermoine grew less tense and annoyed at the Ravenclaw on those few hours of writing.

[Name] was blunt and rude. Hermoine had to say that. But [Name] also seemed to be dedicated to his studies, the proof was the four pages essay of the world war one which had fifteenth inch of well written words delicately scribbled on the parchment. And he was still writing another page to back up the strategies he had concluded the old generals has used.

He was also a perfectionist but it seemed to be a great asset to him and her as when Hermoine looked at her essay that she was having trouble hours ago was writing well. Well organised with well written facts and background and it made Hermoine very happy and thankful.

As Hermoine admired her well written and finished essay, [Name] had sent her a quick glance. Having to stop his scribbling on another fifteenth inch essay as he looked at the window a few tables away from where he and Hermoine was sitting at. Seeing the orange and pink hue of the sky made him conclude that it was already late.

[Name] had sneaked his hand onto underneath his robes to go to his uniform's pants' pocket. Grabbing an old and yet still well looking, silver pocket watch. Looking at the time, a grimmed look appeared on his face for a quick moment before it was replaced with utter disappointment. A tired left his lips as he put his quill down.

"It's late," [Name] had said as he pocketed his silver pocket watch back to his pants' pocket and pushed himself back. He then stood up from his seat and began to put away his things.

"Huh?" Hermoine had squeaked out. Finally out from admiring her essay and had turned to look at [Name] who was putting away his quills and unused parchments.

"It's late," [Name] didn't even turned to look at Hermoine when he said that.

"Oh," Hermoine had softly said as she furrowed her eyebrows. Still looking at the Ravenclaw packing up his stuff. Hermoine was rather saddened. Despite this Ravenclaw male was rather rude to her, she had to admit that he had interest her. And not to mention that he was very nice to offer help despite being a bit of a prat when saying he is willing to give assistance.

"Well... um..." Hermoine mumbles incoherently as she looked at her essay then back to the Ravenclaw male who had finally finished packing his stuff and was neatly piled on the table.

"I... um..." [Name] turned and raised a brow at the mumbling female beside him.

"Are you going to act like a newly obliviated muggle," [Name] had bluntly stated as he turned and began to take his stuff on his hand. Not before he had took out his wand, wave over it and muttered a soft, "locomotor!" which made the books he wasn't carrying on his hand float a bit.

"Or are you going to spit whatever you want to say out?" He had said as he turned to look at Hermoine in the eye.

Enraged a bit. Hermoine said what had first came to her mind.

"I... honestly you're quite rude," snapped Hermoine. She suddenly cupped her hands onto her mouth as her eyes widen. She realized what she had just said.

"I-- oh my! I did not-- I mean! I was--" Hermoine fumbled with her words as she stood up. Her chair screeching but she did not care for she was in too much shock and horror for her to form an apology or some sense.

Hermoine was absolutely scared out of her wits until she heard laughter. Looking at [Name], her eyes widen a bit more if possible as she saw the stuck up, rude Ravenclaw laughing at her. A soft smile on his lips as he finished his laughter looked at her form.

"Tell me something I don't know, alright?" [Name] had said. Amusement twinkling on his [Eye color eyes that Hermoine immediately noticed. It was, after all, the same eyes that had glared her the first time and the same eyes who always held some form of drowsiness despite the male had been awake as he wrote his essay. Those eyes that Hermoine had to admit was quite beautiful.

"I... erm..." Hermoine mumbled as [Name] sent her one last glance as he turned and began to walk away. The stuff he wasn't carrying but placed a spell was following close behind him. Leaving Hermoine fumbling and tumbling on her own thoughts as he left.

"Wait!" Cried Hermoine.

[Name] stopped as he turned his head to look at Hermoine. Raising a brow.

"My name's Hermoine!" She said as she saw [Name] nodded.

"I... um... would... I would like to... to do this another time... if you don't mind," Hermoine softly said.

[Name] looked at her for a second as he then turned back as he walked away. Hermione's figure sulked as she frowned. She actually wanted to meet this Ravenclaw boy again. He was rude yet nice in his own way. Hermoine thought that maybe she had made a other friend.

"I'm always here at tuesdays and fridays. I tend to go to the lake outside to read aswell on weekends," Hermoine heard [Name] same. Perking her head up as she looked at the retreating form of the Ravenclaw.

"I... uh... okay!" Hermoine had said as she smiled. Excitement in her cire as she realized that tomorrow was a saturday. Meaning, she could meet [Name] on the lake.

Hermoine turned herself around and began packing her things. There was a giddy in each step she took as she walked around the halls to go back to Gryffindor's room. In her mind, she took note to bring her favorite muggle book she had brought here in Hogwarts and hopefully get to talk about it to the rude Ravenclaw she had acquainted on on the library who seemed to enjoy muggle studies.

Hermoine was rather glad to having trouble with her essay. Because maybe, just maybe, she could finally have another friend.