#working class blokes

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

It’s a bit difficult to believe, but the Thirteenth Inspector’s Associate Garrison Lowe was actually inspired by Aidan Davies’ father, Eoghan.

Both were working-class blokes who liked to get their hands dirty.

[thebitchthatcleansarkham]

Hey guys if I were to become a villain right here Right now as a cleaner WHAT would my villain name be. Do NOT put "The Cleaner" or some lame shit, I need HONEST SUGGESTIONS for NO PARTICULAR REASON.

[todayisafridaynight]

i HAVE to keep the daigo plush locked away lest i squeeze it every five minutes to alleviate the cuteness aggression i feel whenever i see it

[motherwasapapafucker]

Spurrier and Campbell back on Hellblazer is the only comic news that matters. Balm for all the shitty, shitty Constantine writing over the last few years.

[richo1915]

I have been ‘lifting big heavy things’ with big toys longer than this Industrial Relations Lawyer has been out of school….

I don’t have the benefit of an education behind me, but even I know more about Industrial Negotiations than this muppet.

Join your Union!

[b43b43x]

big decision time is do I wait for the blokees classic class B-127(I love building my own models especially.) or do I get the yolopark B-127 (less buildable parts, buuut more articulation and detailsssss).

[godricgryffinsnore]

helloooo if your you’re taking requests for James Potter i have a REALLYYY long idea and I’m thinking maybe a long story where they are childhood friends and known as the Golden Girl and Boy of Hogwarts. James is quite clingy and touchy with her, so everyone thinks they’re dating. Then, one day, he makes a public, dramatic love confession when he realizes she’s going on a date.

PLEASE PLEASEE feel free to ignore this if its too much💗💗

Just Friends, He Swears ♡ | J.Potter ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

“We were just best friends—until she smiled at someone else and I realized I was one scarf away from staging a public meltdown in the rain.”

pairing : James Potter x fem!reader

summary : A golden boy, a golden girl, and the chaos of being “just friends” when everyone else knows it’s love—except them. A slow-burn Hogwarts rom-com full of tension, longing, and one very dramatic confession in the rain.

warnings : Fluff, Jealousy, Dramatic idiots, Public love confession, Mild language, Secondhand embarrassment. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : Thank you so much for requesting anon!!! I really appreciate you coming here and sharing your ideas with me <3 Hope you like this!!

word count : 1.5k

navigation <3

banners : @/omi-resources and @/cafekitsune

James Potter met her on the train to Hogwarts in first year, hair wild from the wind, face flushed with excitement, and she had a chocolate frog stuck in her hair. He fell in love right then. Not that he’d admit it. Not even now. Not even when he’s sixteen and she's sitting next to him in the common room with her legs on his lap and his fingers tracing lazy circles into her shin.

They’re best friends. Have been since day one. She’s the only one who can match his chaos, ground his storms, slap him upside the head when he’s being arrogant, and whisper in his ear when he’s too proud to admit he’s scared. They’re Hogwarts’ Golden Pair—he, the adored Quidditch captain with a cocky grin and heart of gold; she, the fierce, loyal, terrifyingly clever girl who laughs at his jokes like he invented the sun.

Everyone thinks they’re dating.

They’re not.

They just… do things like a couple. Sit too close. Touch too much. Argue like they’ve been married for fifty years. She kisses his cheek before every match. He carries her bag to class. Once, he made her a flower crown out of actual magic and then got detention for hexing a Slytherin who called it “soft.”

Sirius once said: “Either snog already or take it to the Room of Requirement and spare the rest of us.”

Lily muttered: “Honestly, it’s like watching two penguins in denial.”

Remus just sipped his tea. He’s smarter than all of them.

But she doesn’t see it. Doesn’t see the way James stares when she’s laughing. Doesn’t feel how he tense-pretends-not-to-be-tense when another boy flirts with her. Doesn’t notice the absolute havoc he descends into when she walks in wearing that stupid Ravenclaw blue scarf—

Wait. That’s not hers.

James squints. “Whose scarf is that?”

She blinks, fiddling with the tassels. “Oh—Aidan gave it to me. The Ravenclaw prefect? I’ve got a date with him this weekend.”

Silence.

Like… actual silence. The kind that makes the room cold even though the fire’s crackling.

James blinks once. Twice.

Then says, louder than necessary: “A date? Like… a romantic one?”

She laughs, tilting her head. “Is there another kind?”

He wants to throw himself out the window.

James does not spiral. He is composed. Collected. A mature young man.

That’s why he definitely doesn’t—

Drag Sirius out of bed at midnight to rant about "Mr. Ravenclaw Bloody Kindness"

Accidentally blow up a pumpkin in Herbology while muttering “he probably says please before kissing her”

Tell Peter he thinks the bloke’s trying too hard to be soft. (“Is that illegal now?” Pete asks. “IT SHOULD BE,” James hisses.)

By Saturday, it’s raining. Of course it is. Because the universe is dramatic. And so is he.

She’s standing near the courtyard fountain, dressed in a skirt he’s definitely never seen and lipstick that’s going to kill him. The scarf’s around her neck, and he wants to rip it off.

He marches toward her like a man possessed. Wet curls in his eyes. Shirt clinging to his chest. The Marauders (plus Lily, Dorcas, Marlene) are trailing behind him like it’s a bloody play.

“Oi!” he yells.

She turns, eyes wide.

“James?”

He kneels. Like a bloody idiot. In the puddles. In the rain. Like she’s leaving him at the altar.

“Don’t go.”

She blinks. “What—?”

“Don’t go on the date.” His voice cracks. Cracks.

“James, why are you—”

“I don’t know!” he nearly shouts, arms flailing. “I don’t know why I feel like I’m dying when you wear his scarf or talk about his stupid kind smile or mention that he reads poetry—WHO EVEN READS POETRY VOLUNTARILY?!”

“You do,” she whispers.

He falters. “I know. But it sounds better when you read it.”

The rain pours harder. Everyone is watching. But it’s just them now.

“James,” she murmurs, confused and stunned and breathless, “why does this matter to you?”

His eyes lock on hers. Desperate. Soft. Possessive.

“I don’t have the words,” he admits. “I just know I need you. Like… air. Like magic. Like my broomstick needs me not to be a dumbass. You’re the one thing I can’t risk losing because I’d never recover. Not really. Not where it counts.”

Her lip trembles. She kneels down with him, the cobblestones digging into her knees, the rain soaking through her skin, their noses inches apart.

“I think…” she whispers, “I think I’ve been in love with you since first year and just thought it was normal to feel like this all the time.”

His breath hitches.

Then she kisses him.

It’s messy. Rain-slick. A little uncoordinated. James makes a sound like someone just gave him oxygen for the first time in weeks.

Behind them:

Sirius: “FINALLY.” Lily: “I’m emotionally unwell.” Remus: “Pay up, Marlene.” Marlene: “I hate love.”

James Potter, now that he is officially your boyfriend, is insufferable.

He always was, of course—hovering over your shoulder during breakfast, twirling your hair during study sessions, slinging an arm around you like it was a reflex. But that was before. That was when he was still pretending he wasn’t in love with you.

Now?

Now he wakes you up with a “Good morning, love of my life, did you dream of me?” every day. He holds your hand in the corridors and refuses to let go, even when you’re both trying to eat toast. He spells “J + Y/N = 🧡” into the condensation of every window he passes.

It’s revolting.

You adore it.

You’re sitting in the library, trying to do Transfiguration homework. James is across from you, meant to be writing a paper on theoretical wandless magic.

Instead, he’s staring at you. Again.

Hard.

Like he’s trying to memorize your face for war.

“James,” you whisper, not looking up from your notes. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking at me like I’m about to vanish.”

He grins like you just told him he’s your Patronus.

“I would literally pass out if you vanished. Right here. Face-first into my essay.”

“You don’t have an essay.”

“I’d write one about you.”

You blink. “What would it be titled?”

He pauses for half a second before saying, proudly: “‘Anatomy of a Face I’d Die For: A Study in Tragic Obsession.’”

From across the table, Remus snorts.

Aidan—the Ravenclaw you almost went on a date with—is not helping James’s emotional stability.

He’s still friendly. Too friendly. He waves in corridors. Compliments your handwriting. Smiles a bit too long.

James is Not Normal™ about it.

“Do you think he wants to duel?” James says one day while you're walking to Charms.

You blink. “What?”

“Aidan. He looked at me funny. I think he wants to fight.”

“James,” you sigh, “he was holding a kitten.”

“Yeah. As a weapon.”

You stop walking. “Are you jealous of the boy I didn’t go on a date with?”

“I’m not jealous,” he says, tightening his hold on your hand. “I just think he’s too nice. And suspiciously symmetrical.”

He’s pouting. Full-on, Golden Retriever Pout™.

You tug him closer and whisper in his ear, “You know I only want you, right?”

James short-circuits. Blushes so violently Sirius will make fun of him for three days straight.

The Marauders, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas are trying to have a civil conversation in the Gryffindor common room. You and James are not helping.

You're on his lap. His face is half-buried in your neck. He’s literally just… sighing contentedly.

Dorcas gags. “Do they think they’re in a cottagecore romance novel?”

Sirius throws a pillow. “Oi! James, you’re making us single by proximity.”

James doesn’t move. “You chose this life.”

Lily deadpans: “We didn’t choose anything. You cursed us.”

You grin, twisting slightly to look at your boyfriend. “James, maybe we should tone it down—”

James groans like you’ve stabbed him.

“I just got you!” he whines. “I’ve spent six years in platonic hell! I deserve this! Don’t take this from me, woman!”

“Godric’s bleeding ghost,” Marlene mutters, “he’s dramatic with her too.”

It happens in the middle of a Quidditch match.

You’re cheering from the stands, cold air whipping through your hair, and James does this ridiculous dive to catch the Quaffle—and slams into the ground with a dramatic thud.

Everyone gasps.

You leap from your seat. “JAMES?!”

He sits up immediately and yells:

“I’M OKAY, DARLING! I JUST SAW YOUR FACE AND FORGOT GRAVITY EXISTED!”

The stands go silent.

The Hufflepuff Beaters stop mid-swing.

Madam Hooch looks personally offended.

You turn bright red.

Sirius screams, “GET A ROOM!”

Remus whispers, “We are in the emotional splash zone.”

Later that night, curled into each other on the Gryffindor couch, James hums against your shoulder.

“You think people are sick of us?”

You smile, brushing back his hair. “Definitely.”

“Should we stop?”

“No.”

“Good,” he mumbles sleepily, already halfway to dreaming. “Because I plan on loving you out loud for the rest of my life.”

And even though he’s dramatic, possessive, clingy, and a little stupid in love…

So do you.

[lqveharrington]

Never Planned | F.W.

summary: you and fred had been friends for so long that it never occurred to the both of you that everyone thought you were dating.

pairing: fred weasley x gryffindor!reader

includes: fluff, the both of you being mischievous, kissing, cursing, the two third years being wingmen when they don’t even know it

a/n: officially working on requests the second this gets posted!

You and Fred had the same routine every Sunday night after dinner. The routine was simple and familiar—so familiar that even the younger students knew it all too well. Every Sunday evening, you would typically read the Daily Prophet or do final touches to your essays while Fred would find a way to bother you until you finally gave into him and give him attention. That’s how Sunday nights would always go.

Except for tonight. For some reason, today felt off and neither of you could place a finger on it. The evening started off normal, but the longer you ignored it, the more the feeling intensified.

You were supposed to be working on your Charms essay, but all you could think about was the small feeling nagging at the back of your mind. You were so absorbed with the thought that you didn't realize you were biting the tip of you quill until Fred pulled your hand away from you, propping his feet up on your lap.

"What's with the face, Faucett? Need help with your Charms essay?" Fred asked, pouting dramatically when you snapped out of your trance and pushed his feet off your lap. "You hate me."

You scoff and roll up your parchment, placing it away on the side table. "I do not hate you, Fred."

“You do.” He teased and angled you to face him, pulling your legs to lay over his lap instead. He watched you rest your head against the cushions of the couch, making him tap your knee in concern. “What’s wrong?”

You huff and play with the threads of you sweater that Molly had made you this past Christmas, meeting his eyes that were filled with more emotion than you could place. “Nothings wrong with me, but it feels like something in this room is, you know?”

Fred looked over at the other people in the room. There were hardly any people in the Gryffindor Common Room on Sunday evenings. Everyone was out either making use of the last few hours of freedom they had before classes started the next day or in their dorms, trying to cram for any surprise quizzes.

The only people that were in the Common Room were a group of first years comparing notes, some fourth years playing exploding snap, and a pair of third years conversing quietly in a corner, tucked away from prying eyes and voices—such as Fred Weasley himself.

Fred raised a brow at the two boys who looked away quite quickly when they met the older boy's gaze. He turned back to you for a quick second, replying quietly to your previous comment. “Maybe…”

You crease your brows and look over at the pair of boys as well, “What—?”

“Oi!” Fred hollered at the two third years, making the entire room snap their heads over at the sudden boom of a voice. You blew a piece of hair away from your face in exasperation, giving the other students apologetic looks for the commotion.

“What are you blokes whispering about?” He called out, making the third year on the left burn bright red.

You poke Fred's arm when you saw the poor boy's face, not deterred by all his muscles underneath his own sweater. “Fred, stop bothering them."

The same boy looked away from you two, swallowing thickly while his friend pursed his lips in an effort to not laugh at the current situation. While the rest of the room went back to what they were doing, Fred continued to watch the pair, waiting for a response from either one of them.

Finally, after the two boys whispered back and forth—for Godric only knows how long—one of them spoke up, making the red-head beside you perk up instantly.

“Nothing important.” The teen on the right said for the sake of his friend, waving a dismissive hand in your general direction. “Just trying to figure out how to ask this girl out."

The second you both heard those words come out of the boy's mouth, you looked over at Fred who was already looking back at you with a grin that could only be described as smug.

You sighed, knowing you couldn't do much to stop whatever Fred planned on doing. “Freddie, don’t—“

He stood from his spot on the couch, hands placed on his hips like he suddenly knew the answers to everything in the universe. “Luckily, you’ve come to the right man—“

“—Boy—“ You quipped from his side as you followed him to ensure he wouldn't do or say anything stupid.

“Shut up.” Fred half-heartedly pushed you to the side, still catching you when you stumbled over your feet. He stuck his thumb in the other teen’s direction, “Anyway, who does he fancy?”

You roll your eyes at his antics and give them a warm, reassuring smile, hoping it would take their minds off whatever foolishness Fred has in plan. “First, what are your names?”

“I’m Oliver, and he’s James.” The boy on the right said tentatively, the one on the left—which you both now knew was James—nodding in agreement.

Fred clasped his hands together and nodded mindlessly, keeping his eyes trained on the boys. “Alright, I’m Fred and she’s the pain in my arse—“

“Can you focus?” You groan and shove him to the side, laughing loudly when he threw you over his shoulder to get you to stop interrupting—although the two of you knew it was hopeless.

“Oliver, who does James fancy?” Fred asked, ignoring your calls and protests.

You continued to wiggle yourself free from his grasp, huffing when he held onto you tighter. At that point, the rest of the Common Room gave you odd looks, making you flush a bright pink in slight embarrassment.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, hesitantly as he stared at you and Fred in concern and confusion, unsure what to do in the situation. “Uhm… He fancies this girl in Hufflepuff named Lila—“

You gasped and hit Fred hard in between his shoulder blades, earning a groan as he dropped you from his arms. You spun around and gave James a soft look, knowing exactly who Lila was. You had tutored her last year in Potions—and based on your five minute interaction with James—the would be the perfect pair.

“She’s really bright and gifted in Herbology.” James says softly, making your heart ache at how he spoke about Lila in adoration.

“Have you tried to ask her out before?” You ask and watch him fidget with his hair.

He shakes his head, eyes darting away from your face toward the ground. “I’m too nervous.”

After recovering from you sudden attack, Fred clapped his hand on James’ back, ruffling his hair when the boy looked up at him. “Don’t be, you look handsome and clearly you’ve got the brains for it.”

In an instant, you saw an increase of confidence in the thirteen year old, making you grin at the sight. Maybe Fred being nosy in other students’ conversations wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

You watched for another second before murmuring something to Fred about finally finishing your Charms essay, giving the two boys one last smile. Before you left for the couch, Fred subconsciously pressed a kiss to the top of your head, knowing you were leaving even though he barely listened to you as he continued to speak to the younger students.

“Ask her out to a picnic by the lake or in one of the outdoor gardens—Not Hagrid’s, of course. That would be a nightmare.” Fred clarified with a small smirk decorating his face, leaning back on one of the armchairs behind him as the boys listened intently.

“Thanks, I’ll ask her tomorrow after class.” James replied with a new found determination in his voice.

Finally snapping out of his small trance, Oliver switched his gaze from Fred to your spot on the couch, tilting his head with a raised brow. “How did you ask your girlfriend out?”

Fred copied his facial expression, turning his head to follow the boy’s eye line when they landed on you. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue before clearing his throat, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

“Oh, we’re not dating.”

“Sure seems like it.” Oliver crossed his arms and raised both brows this time, judging Fred like he was a liar. “You can’t give out advice about dating without having a girlfriend yourself.”

“My advice is fool proof!” Fred blurted, almost baffled that a thirteen year old accused him of spreading false information—though he has done that multiple times before to everyone he knew

“Then how come you don’t have a girlfriend?”

Fred opened his mouth and shut it, putting his index finger up toward the boys before turning and walking over to you. He stood in front of you with his hands in his front pockets, waiting until you finished your thoughts on the essay before speaking.

“Did you know people think we’re dating?” He said quietly, earning a wide-eye look from you. Based on your reaction, you probably didn’t know either. “Yeah, weird. Those two boys thought we were dating.”

“That’s the weird feeling I was getting in this room.” You say as you twirl your golden charm necklace between your fingers, looking over at the two boys who suddenly looked guilty and mischievous at the same time. You raise a brow and look back at Fred with a small smirk, making him grin back.

“Can you imagine the shock on their faces if they believed it took you two seconds to land a girlfriend?”

Fred bent over by the waist, lips mere centimeters from yours. “And what do you have in mind, Faucett?”

Your smirk widens before you pull him in by the collar of his sweater, lips meeting his faster than anyone could have expected it. As if someone flipped a switch in Fred’s mind, he quickly reciprocated, hands coming up to cup the back of your neck and cheek.

For a second, the two of you were completely immersed in each other that you didn’t realize that—once more—the Gryffindor Common Room stared. This time, they stared only for a brief moment before looking away. It seemed like everyone expected it since the moment you both walked into the Common Room together on any Sunday evening.

You separate after the kiss that lasted longer than you both thought it would last, the two of you slightly out of breath, but still wearing eat-shitting grins at fooling the two third years in their small corner. Fred glanced at them from the corner of his eye, winking at Oliver specifically when he stared with a gaped mouth.

“That’ll be the best piece of advice they’ll ever get.” You laugh quietly as Fred plops down beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arm around your abdomen, warm against your skin under the sweater. “You’re not going back to those two boys?”

“Nah, it’ll ruin the fun.” He drawled and looked up at you with his pretty brown eyes, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder unexpectedly. You looked down at him and raised a brow, waiting for an explanation from the one Weasley you liked a little more than the others.

“So, you? Me? Next weekend? Hogsmeade?” He asked with a confident smile, twirling a piece of your hair in between his index and thumb.

You bite back a smile and pat his cheek, his own smile never wavering. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, Weasley.”

“Is that a yes?” He questioned, looking between your eyes.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” You say as you go back to finishing your essay, not caring for the blush that rose to your cheeks.

You and Fred have been friends since first year, but it never crossed your mind that you could ever be in the relationship everyone assumed you were in. Not until this year. It felt like you clung to every single word he spoke to you this time, and it felt so different.

All the pranks he would plan with Lee and George was always relayed to you, every gift he planned to give to his family members went through you—you were practically his without officially being his.

“I plan for many things, Faucett.” Fred moved to sit properly and dragged your legs back on top of his lap, messing with the embroidery on your jeans. “But I never planned on someone like you kissing me just to mess with two thirteen year olds.”

“You went along with it.” You clarify, knowing damn well that he also wanted to prank the two teens. Besides, it’s not like it was your first time kissing Fred. Not at all.

Your gaze meets his, “So what, you actually want to take me out on a date now?”

“Yep.” He continued to grin and trace the embroidery.

You carefully tuck away your Charms essay once more, continuing to hide the smile that came with the thought of going out with Fred Weasley. “I guess I’ll go on a date with you.”

Fred didn’t even know his grin could get bigger, but it did. He pulled you as close to him as he could, arms wrapped securely around your waist as he tilted his chin down to meet your eyes. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“You are bad news.” You laugh and melt into him when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You raised a brow at him, “Never planned huh?”

“Nope.” He popped his syllables with a smile so bright you swore the sun would shake in it’s presence. “Never planned.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[marauder-misprint]

Hey! I had a Sirius x reader request where the reader is James sister and in a secret relationship with Sirius and the marauders are trying to guess who Sirius’s secret girlfriend is and Sirius is just like “you know her VERY well” and ofc James flips out when he finds out LOL

Hi! Thank you for this request! ❤︎ I love love love a good fluffy piece. Lowkey oblivious Sirius, but let's be real - when aren't boys oblivious?

Hope y'all enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

'Acceptable company'

Sirius Black x Potter!reader

3.5k words

cw: fluff, secret relationship, pining if you squint

You didn’t mean to fall for Sirius Black. It’s embarrassing, really. Predictable. Your older brother’s best friend? Of course he’s the one who makes your heart flutter. You tried to ignore it, push the feelings down so far that maybe they’d just vanish.

They did not. 

Sirius also didn’t mean to fall for you. He didn’t realize he was falling for you until he was in too deep. In his defense, when you arrived at Hogwarts and got sorted into Gryffindor, his first thought was ‘Oh, sweet, another Potter!’ 

For the first few years, you’d occasionally enter Sirius’ orbit. James would complain about how annoying you were, but Sirius never saw it. You were alright. You would give him a small smile while waiting for James to get you whatever you had requested. Sometimes you’d ask Remus for help on homework when Lily was busy; Sirius thought it was amusing that you refused to ask James for help. And until he joined the quidditch team himself, you sat with Sirius in the stands during matches and practices. You offered him your snacks and sounded like James when you spouted quidditch facts and critiqued the team’s form. Even when Sirius visited the Potter’s home during the summer months, you didn’t hang around him and James much. 

Sirius didn’t know what to do with himself when he found himself wishing you would hang around them. When he started looking for you in the stands at his quidditch games and practices. When he suddenly offered to help you with an assignment because Lily and Remus had prefect duties. When he got uncharacteristically upset when you got your first boyfriend. When he realized that he was upset because it wasn’t him. 

Luckily for Sirius, it didn’t last. Something about you not giving him enough of your time. You ranted about it in the common room. Loudly. Sirius could recall you saying, “Merlin forbid a girl has friends. And friends that I don’t have any classes with! Sorry I don’t want to eat dinner with him every evening!” James gave you your space despite his muttered threats about this boy.

That night Sirius couldn’t sleep. So he did what everyone does when they can’t sleep: he went to sit by the fire in the common room. And by chance, you were already sitting on the couch, legs tucked underneath you, as you stared into the dancing flames. 

“Am I acceptable company?” Sirius asked, standing off to the side. 

“Why wouldn’t you be?” you responded. You didn’t even look away from the fire. 

He sat down on the other side of the couch before casting a wary glance your way.

“Maybe you have a vendetta against all blokes now. Dunno.”

You gave a dry laugh. “No. Just against gits.”

“Hmm, surprised I don’t qualify for that.” Sirius would be an idiot if he didn’t know that he could use some work on himself. 

“Yeah… well… I have nothing against you.”

With your gaze set on the fire, Sirius took the opportunity to watch you. Because why had he been so happy to know that you broke up with that boy? Why had his heart skipped a beat when he saw you sitting by the fire in the deserted common room? Why did he want to smile when you said you have nothing against him? Coming to terms with how much he liked you was more difficult than he’d ever admit. 

“I can feel you staring, Sirius.”

“‘M not,” Sirius said, immediately looking at the fire.

You sighed and turned your body so you could face Sirius. He looked back at you, his body still facing forward.

“I know I’m not wrong for wanting to be my own person. I’m not a… a… a thing to be flaunted,” you said, sounding and looking frustrated.

Sirius nodded. “Right.”

“And Sam couldn’t accept that. That’s on him. Not me.” You paused and your expression shifted. “Right?”

“Yes. Some blokes are a bit dense.”

You sighed. Then you fell forward, resting your forehead against the side of his shoulder. He gave you a slightly confused look.

“Are you alright?” You mumbled something into his shoulder. “You know I didn’t understand that.”

With a dramatic sigh, you sat up, but only to move closer to Sirius so you could rest your head on his shoulder without blocking your face. 

“Getting there. I’m getting there.”

You sat like that for a while, neither of you saying anything. When you were ready, you thanked Sirius and then went to bed. He sat there for a little bit longer before heading back up to his dorm. He wanted the moment to have lasted longer. Sitting in that easy silence with you was something else. 

For a few days, you regretted that night in the common room. Your brain was telling you that you had been too much, an annoying little sister who put Sirius in an uncomfortable position. You should’ve just let him stare and not said anything. Now that you’ve made him uncomfortable, you can tell that he’s avoiding your gaze whenever you’re near each other. Before, when you’d make eye contact with him across the room, you would exchange polite smiles. There was an acknowledgement. Not anymore. He won’t meet your eyes. 

You needed to apologize for it, tell him not to worry about you. You’d find him after quidditch practice. You would keep it casual. Because you were James’ cool, confident, easy-going little sister. Not an annoying one. 

Like usual, you watched the practice from the stands. You tried to watch all of the players equally, but you kept returning to Sirius. His flying was sloppy and he was missing easy hits. He was obviously distracted and Jame was biting his head off for it. It felt like the practice dragged on forever. But when it was done, you lingered just out of sight of the locker room door. You knew you had to ambush Sirius to get him to talk to you; the only thing that would prevent him from listening to you would be if James walked back with him. Maybe it was good that Sirius was distracted during practice – he wouldn’t want to leave with the guy who yelled at him for like ten minutes straight while on a broom. 

You listened as the door opened and closed. James left with Marlene, both ranting about how the practice wasn’t their best work. Perfect. With James gone, you waited a little closer to the door. The seeker left, followed by the other beater, the keeper and the last chaser. Sirius was the last one. You waited for about five minutes before you started getting nervous. You had to keep your wits about you. 

You opened the locker room door and knocked on it loudly, to announce your presence. 

“Sirius?” you called, looking around. 

“What?” he snapped from around the corner.

“Can we talk?”

He peeked his head around the corner, hair dripping and not wearing a shirt. 

“Potter? Shit, what are you doing in here?” he asked, his voice suddenly much nicer and almost nervous. 

“I was waiting for you,” you said. “Should I go back outside?” 

“Um, no, just give me one minute.”

You sat down on the bench in between the rows of lockers and fidgeted with your fingers. You could hear Sirius muttering to himself but the only things you could make out were swears. When he came around the corner, he was wearing pants and pulling a shirt over his head. 

“What’s up? Everything okay?” he asked, standing in front of you. 

“I, erm, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other night. I’m good. Fine.” You nodded with a small smile on your lips. 

Sirius furrowed his brows in confusion. “What made you think I was uncomfortable?” 

He didn’t think he had shifted at all when you had your head on his shoulder. Maybe you mistook the quiet as awkwardness, rather than the easiness he felt. 

“Oh, um, you haven’t been able to look at me?” Your throat tensed. “Kind of felt like you were avoiding me.”

Sirius nervously rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from you. “I have been avoiding you, but-” He clicked his tongue. “-not because I was uncomfortable.”

“Then why?”

“Because I was comfortable.” You tilted your head in confusion. “Too comfortable.”

“Okay?”

You weren’t getting it. Why was him being comfortable around you a bad thing? Why did it make him avoid you?

“Godric… screw it! Every time I look at you, I want to kiss you. I want to treat you how you deserve to be treated, so much better than how that git treated you. But I can’t ‘cause you’re James’ sister.” 

You stared up at him with wide eyes. Oh. You stood up, making Sirius take a step backwards. He thought you were going to slap him. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your pounding heart. 

“What if… I wanted you to kiss me?” Your heart was trying to escape out your throat. “We could just not tell James.”

“Not tell James…” he repeated. His eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips. 

You took a step toward Sirius and he didn’t take a step back. Instead, he gently took your face in his hands and kissed you. It was soft and gentle and you wasted no time in kissing him back. You were about to thread your fingers through his hair when he pulled back.

“Are you sure?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yes.”

Not telling James ended up becoming not telling anyone. It was too risky. If you told anyone, how could you guarantee that they wouldn’t tell him? 

In public, you were just James’ little sister and his best friend. Polite. Cordial. Sharing smiles and eye rolls from across the room. In the privacy of the common room late at night, when you knew his dorm would be empty, in random broom closets, in unused classrooms and the locker room after quidditch practices, you were more than friends. It was more than snogging too. He would read to you. You would bring snacks and have a makeshift picnic. You would sit next to each other, talking about your day and anything else on your mind. But yes, there was snogging. 

You were doing a good job at keeping it secret. At least, good enough. Your friends caught on pretty quickly that you had a new someone – it was the only explanation of where you were disappearing to so often and how smiley you were when you returned. Sirius was proud of himself for keeping it from James, given that they had the map. He made sure that he had it with him whenever he was meeting up with you. Remus was the only one who seemed suspicious of his keeping the map so close, but he didn’t say anything. 

But then one night after quidditch practice and a heated session with you, Sirius tied his hair up before heading up to his dorm. You had made a good habit of returning to the common room at different times after practice to prevent any rumors. So you weren’t with him to see that you had left a mark. Well, several marks along his neck. 

“Merlin’s balls, Padfoot!” Remus gasped when he walked through the door. 

“What?” Sirius asked, not looking at Remus.

“Did you get attacked by a colony of leeches?” he asked, now attempting to stifle his laughter as Sirius’ hand flew to his neck. 

He forced a laugh. “Something like that.”

“Who is it?” James asked, sitting up a little straighter on his bed. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sirius answered.

“Hiding his latest conquest… That’s new,” Remus muttered, turning back to homework although he was smirking. 

“Yeah, since when don’t you tell us who you’re snogging?” Peter asked.

Sirius put his stuff away in his trunk and got out his own homework. “Since she asked me not to.” 

James and Peter exchanged a look that Sirius chose to ignore. He wanted them to drop the topic. If they asked him to describe the girl, it would only take so long before they put two and two together. They did drop it. For that night.

The next day, walking to class, Remus asked, “So who is it?”

“Huh?” 

“The girl giving you hickeys.”

“Told you last night. I’m not saying.”

“Ah, come on, Padfoot. It’s just me.”

Sirius shook his head. “Mate, drop it. I’m not telling you.”

“You’ve always told us who you’re with. Never had any shame in it. Why you getting all shy with it now?”

“I said drop it. She asked me not to tell you and… I like her. So I’m not going to tell you anything until she wants to.”

Sirius quickened his pace to get to class, leaving Remus behind. He watched him go with a curious expression on his face. Sirius usually bragged about who he took into broom closets, but he was being protective of this girl and that only made Remus want to know more. 

The boys badgered Sirius about his mystery girlfriend more than your friends did with you. It went on for weeks after that night with the hickeys. Whenever Sirius came back to the dorm alone, various questions were launched at him.

“Same girl?” “Any visible hickeys?” “How far you’d get?” “Where’d you snog? The greenhouses? Quidditch pitch? Back of the library?” “What’s she like?”

Sirius brushed them off every time. He wasn’t going to give them anything, but that seemed to egg them on. They were determined to find out who it was. One evening, they started asking Sirius about the girl in the common room.

“Alright, Sirius, is she a Slytherin? Is that you’re so secretive about it?” Peter asked, shoving his Potions homework away from him.

Sirius didn’t answer. 

“Is she in our year? Older? Younger?” James asked. More silence from Sirius.

“Ah, give us something,” Remus begged. “You’ve been seeing her for weeks and you’ve told us nothing!”

You entered the common room and Peter, James and Remus’ voices reached your ears. They weren’t being quiet with their interrogation of Sirius. So, naturally, you walked over to them.

“You’re being loud,” you said matter-of-factly. 

“We have reason,” James said with an eye roll. 

“And that reason is…”

He sighed. “Sirius here has been seeing this girl for weeks and he won’t tell us who it is. He won’t even describe her.”

You smirked and turned toward Sirius, who was already looking at you with a rehearsed neutral look on his face. 

“Aw, that’s kind of cute. But come on, Sirius. It’s just the boys,” you said, gesturing to them. “Give ‘em something to get them off your back.”

Sirius swallowed thickly. You had just given him permission to say something. He tried to cover his shock with an exaggerated sigh.

“Fine.” He looked around the group, trying to figure out what to say. “Ah, got it. You lot know her very well.”

“Oh, that narrows it down,” you laughed, turning to leave the group, but you didn’t go far. You picked a spot on the couch nearby and took out your Charms book. You wanted to eavesdrop. 

“That’s rubbish!” Peter exclaimed. “We know a lot of people!”

“It’s not rubbish,” Sirius defended with crossed arms. “I just eliminated practically all of the Slytherins.”

“And a fair amount of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs,” Remus added. James and Peter gave him stern looks. “What? He said we know her very well. We know eagles and badgers, but I wouldn’t say we know them all that well.”

“So she’s a Gryffindor?” James asked, turning his attention back to Sirius.

He gave him no answer. Not even a facial expression. 

“I think we can assume that much,” Remus said. “And it’s certainly not Lily. I know that much.”

“How?” James asked. 

“Been studying with her when Padfoot returns from his rendezvous.”

“She can’t be more than a year on either side of us,” Peter said. “Younger they get, the more scared of us they are.”

“Valid,” James said with a solemn nod.

Sirius just rolled his eyes. He didn’t know if he could relax, but he needed to have a relaxed air about him. He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned backwards, supporting himself with straight arms. 

“Right, so that leaves us with what, twelve girls? We can narrow it down,” James said after mentally counting the girls in their year, the year above and year below. “We’ve already checked off Lily and we can check off my sister and Marlene.”

You hid behind your book so the boys couldn’t see your smile if they looked over at you. James dismissed you as an option right off the bat. They would never get it right at this rate. 

“Cross off anyone he’s already been with. There’d be no point hiding it from us if they’ve done it before,” Remus said, waving a hand at James.

Sirius snuck a worried glance your way. He thought his hint was clever, but his friends were going to run through the girls quickly. And once they did, they’d have to go back over the list. There was no telling if they’d come to the conclusion that it was you. You flexed your eyebrows. He needed to turn back around.

You found it amusing as the boys tossed around names and found each one not feeling right. Sirius looked more or less mortified. He lost his relaxed air when he looked at you and couldn’t get it back. It was only getting worse as they moved on from girl to girl and then started renaming girls.

“We’ve listed everyone,” Peter said, sounding defeated. “Are we sure that he didn’t fall into the lake and is just too proud to tell us?” 

“Why would he be by the lake after quidditch practice?” James sighed. 

Something about what James said made something click in Remus’ head. After quidditch practice. He looked at you, at first with wide eyes of realization and then the wicked smirk of someone about to unleash hell.

“I know who it is,” Remus said firmly, not looking away from you.

All three boys looked at Remus, and then they followed his gaze to you. Sirius went pale. James turned red. And Peter laughed. 

“Oh, that’s rich.”

“We do know her quite well,” Remus said. 

“Padfoot,” James growled. “For the love of Merlin, tell me that Remus is wrong.”

You looked up slowly. You knew they were looking at you. You heard it go down. 

“I can’t,” Sirius said in a small voice. 

“At least he had a good reason for not telling us,” Peter said between fits of laughter.

“Yeah, Wormtail? What’s his reason?” Remus asked, clearly enjoying the building tension between James and Sirius.

“He loves his life. Because Prongs is going to murder him.”

“My bloody sister? You are mental?” James yelled, jumping up.

Sirius immediately mirrored him. “Maybe, yeah.”

James turned on you. “You! What do you have to say about this?” 

You hummed and flipped a page in your book, as if you were disinterested in their conversation, as if it didn’t completely concern you. 

“What the others say is true: he’s good at snogging.” 

Sirius broke into a stupid smile because that answer was so you. A little bit of sass to your brother. It was also a compliment to him. James, however, did not like that answer as he turned a darker shade of red. 

“I… argh! That’s my little sister!” James shouted at Sirius, and then turning back to you, “My goddamn best friend? Could you have chosen anyone else?”

Still feeling unbothered, you leaned forward and looked at Remus. “Remus is kind of cute.”

“Oi!” Sirius said. 

“I said kind of!”

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” James roared.

He glared at you and then at Sirius before storming off to their dorm. You broke into your fit of laughter when he started up the stairs. 

“I think he took that well.”

“So, you’re really… together?” Remus asked, watching Sirius run a hand down his face as he stared at the stairs James disappeared up.

You nodded. “When you’d figure out Sirius was seeing someone?”

“Few weeks ago. You left a mark.”

You tilted your head in slight confusion. You left marks on Sirius before only a few weeks ago.

“Oh, he put his hair up.”

“Ah,” you said. Then you looked at Sirius. “He’ll get over it. Let him cool down and come to terms with it. You’ll be fine.”

“He’s pretty pissed,” Sirius said, voice low. 

“For now. He’ll get over it.”

“He’s pissed at me.”

“Mate, relax. She’s right. He blows up, but he always cools down,” Remus said.

“Yeah… right…” Sirius muttered before collapsing on the couch next to you. “At least I can kiss you in public now.”

“That’s what you’re excited about? I can’t wait to go on a real date-date with you.”

“Oh, gross… Maybe they should’ve kept it a secret,” Peter said to Remus.

tags: @navs-bhat, @bruxa0007

[booksfansworld]

James potter x reader

The thing about Hogwarts was that it was easy to be two different people. In class, you were confident hand always raised, voice steady, not afraid to challenge even McGonagall when you were certain you were right. But outside the structured world of lessons and textbooks, where people spoke in jokes and easy camaraderie, you faltered.

You weren’t shy, exactly. Just awkward. Coversations never seemed to flow the way they did for others, especially when James Potter was involved.

Which was unfortunate, considering James Potter had decided today was the day he was going to talk to you.

"Blimey, you were on fire in Transfiguration," James said, plopping down beside you in the common room. His hair was as messy as ever, glasses slightly askew from where he'd shoved them up his nose. "Even McGonagall looked impressed."

Your stomach twisted. "Ohum. Thanks?"

Brilliant. One word. Very compelling.

James, of course, didn’t seem to notice your internal struggle. "I swear, if I had half your focus, I'd be top of the class." He stretched his arms out, slumping back against the couch. "Well, second to Evans, obviously."

You laughed softly—an actual laugh, not the awkward chuckle you sometimes gave when you didn't know what else to do. "You'd have to stop doodling Quidditch plays in your notes first."

James gasped, mock-offended. "You wound me. Those plays are works of strategic genius."

Rolling your eyes, you shifted slightly, hands resting in your lap. Talking about academics was fine. It was the other part the casual, social part that tripped you up.

The conversation lulled, and you bit your lip, feeling the pressure to fill the silence. Before you could think of something to say, James let out a long sigh, stretching again before letting his head fall against your shoulder.

You froze.

James Potter was asleep. On your shoulder.

His weight was warm, grounding, and entirely unexpected. His breaths evened out, ruffling a loose strand of your hair. The common room bustled around you, but it felt distant, like you and James were in a pocket of quiet.

You should move. Should shake him awake, laugh it off. But for once, you didn’t overthink it.

Instead, you let yourself sit there, still and steady, as James Potter charming, boisterous, endlessly confident James Potterslept peacefully against you.

The common room buzzed around you, but James was dead to the world, his head warm and solid against your shoulder. You weren’t sure what to do—what did one do when James Potter, Quidditch star and Hogwarts’ most effortlessly charming student, decided your shoulder was a perfectly acceptable pillow?

Panic? Wake him? Run?

You did none of the above.

Instead, you sat there, spine rigid, as your mind raced. What did this mean? Had he just been that exhausted? Or no, stop, you were overthinking it. Again. It was just a nap. People fell asleep in the common room all the time.

Except they didn’t usually do it on you.

After what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, Sirius Black strolled by, stopped, and grinned like he'd been handed front-row seats to the greatest show on Earth.

“Well, well, well," he drawled, crouching to your level. "Didn’t realize you’d taken up a side gig as James’ personal headrest."

Your cheeks burned. "He just… fell asleep."

Sirius smirked. "Mhm. Sure."

James shifted slightly, murmuring something unintelligible. His glasses had slid halfway down his nose, and without thinking, you carefully nudged them back into place. Sirius’ smirk deepened.

"I like this," he mused. "You should keep him."

Your brain short-circuited. "What?"

"You know, as a pet. Like a very needy, very loud golden retriever."

"I hate you," you muttered, but there was no real venom in it.

Sirius chuckled and ruffled James' hair before standing. "Alright, I’ll leave you to it. Just try not to scar the poor bloke when he wakes up, yeah?" He winked and sauntered off.

You exhaled slowly, staring at the flickering fire in front of you. Your heartbeat had not slowed. James was still leaning against you, oblivious to your internal crisis.

And then, in a voice rough with sleep, he muttered, "You’re comfy."

Your breath caught. "What?"

James shifted again, eyes still closed, a lazy grin on his lips. "S’nice. You should let me nap on you more often."

Your brain stalled completely.

James Potter wanted to nap on you. More often.

You were never going to survive this.

[theavantgardette]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ Fire-Breathing Luck | Fred Weasley

SYN: Fred's girl knows how to handle business better than he does. At least that's what he thinks. He doesn't really care otherwise. He thinks she's the dopest of the ropest, she thinks he's the funniest bloke there ever was. It just works.

— A mailbox request by @drkaysapothecary

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

"Freddie," she tugged on the hem of his work pants.

Her red-haired lover hummed in acknowledgement, his brown eyes lighting up like lanterns on the sight of her. He restocked piles of new products on the very top shelf quicker than before, his stature providing a great amount of aid to prevent himself from toppling over had he instructed the other employees to do so. His lover stood by him giddily, herself as involved in the business as he was, moreso ever since he and his twin made a deal to give more than 15% of their shares of income for whichever "lucky ladies" were designated to date them.

Corny as it was, she never once doubted his devotion to her. A day after they announced the deal, she joined their Muggle Arts class with other, fellow Ravenclaws. Safe to say, her works enamored him to no end; her arrow-sharp wit dazzling him quicker than he could begin to say 'hello.'

And here they were, an evening at the busiest market in all of the English Wizarding World — having each other, their own little family in the strange circumstances of the war impending on every witch and wizard's lives at the time.

Fred looked below through the box of stocks he was holding, "Just put them on the carrier, love."

"What, these?" she replied, meeting his eyes as she held onto the carrier full of joke candies designed to incite incessant drooling to whoever ate them. She carded along the packages of them, packed in papers dyed in green and blue.

"Oi, you lovers," George emerged from upstairs of the joke shop and swung his jacket around his shoulder, "clocking out in a bit."

Fred tossed him a smirk, "Off to steal a bit of thunder?"

George responded with giving him air kisses, freeing himself from his brother's teasing towards the streets outside. The shop bell rang as he walked out.

"Strange," Fred came down the ladder, handing the empty box to her, "it's the only time I've no idea where my brother's off to."

"He's seeing a girl," she replied in nonchalance, rechecking the shop's list of income, "do you reckon we'll get more check next month?"

Fred frowned in thought, "We're already good as we are. Need for more?"

She shrugged, putting the paper on the counter and began scribbling with her pocket quill. Fred peeked over, only to see her planning for better prospects; budgeting fees, advertising money. Fred thought he and his brother had nerve; he just hadn't expected his woman to have one tenfold.

Fred kissed her cheek softly, just the way she liked. She chuckled ticklishly, wiping it away in good nature.

"Bugger off me, will you?" she chastised, but pulled him nearer by his collar.

"Feisty woman," he muttered, still close to her.

She resumed her drafting, glancing over to the entrance to check if any customers required their attention. It had turned to evening already, and most who visited Diagon Alley had gone home.

He then slid his arm around her shoulder, his chin on top of her head. Even then, he still had to slouch quite a bit. She stifled a grin, abandoning her writing to kiss the hand dangling above her collarbone. He nuzzled her hair, closing his eyes as they began to sway. There was no music, no tune playing but from the ballerina-bear music boxes sitting by the display upfront.

Us two; he thought, that's all there ever was. Nothing else. Nothing happening. Just us.

George could take his luck for all he cared. Fred knew he had his own down pat, and she sure wasn't going away any time sooner.

. . . .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

A/N: comment to be put on my HP taglist!!!!

[whimsymoonpages]

poly!marauders blurb: you are not dating my sister

in which harry has a girlfriend, remus is a traitor, and nobody knows what canoodling is.

the train station is buzzing with families and students as you, sirius, and james crowd near the platform, eagerly looking for harry and ron's train to pull in. james is practically bouncing with excitement and sirius can't stop cracking jokes.

"our husband," he croons. "the professor."

as soon as the train screeches to a halt, harry, ron, and remus step out, their bags slung over their shoulders. harry looks like exhausted, and ron's looking far too pleased with himself for someone who's been on a twelve-hour train ride.

"there they are!" sirius shouts, waving like a madman.

you rush forward to hug harry first, ignoring his scowl. "oh, sweetheart! how are you? how's quidditch? you've been doing so well, you know."

harry grumbles, looking away. "i'm fine."

"you're doing amazing!" you say, smoothing down his hair. "quidditch, grades, everything! moons says your studies are going great. i'm so proud of you."

he scowls even harder, clearly mortified that you're doing this in the train station, but you're too busy fawning over him to notice. james has his hands clapped over his shoulders now, and sirius is tugging the bags from his hands.

"my god, haz," james beams at his son. "you look bloody amazing! you've been eating good at hogwarts, then? working hard during practice?"

"you only think he looks amazing because he looks like you, prongs." sirius says, ever the sassy one.

you turn to ron next, pulling him into a quick hug, too. "and look at you, mr. brilliant at everything," you tease, grinning at him. "how's your year been, ron?"

"good!" he grins, already making a beeline for the exit. "james has made food, hasn't he?" he's practically drooling.

"don't even think about it," james says with a laugh, shaking his head as he catches ron's eye. "i know exactly what you're about to do when we get back to the house."

"what? i'm just...you know..." ron mumbles with his hands in his pockets. "just have to make sure your cooking's still good."

"and nobody has anything to say to me?!" remus all but whines, his hazel eyes squinting at you all.

"ohhh remmy!"

"my poor dear."

"mr. lupin, you're home!!!"

"yeah, yeah." remus mutters with a smile before disapparating you all back to your cottage.

as you all enter, the smell of the food james prepared filled the room. ron groans and starts going in and on about how brilliant james is in the kitchen.

you pull out a chair for harry and usher him into the seat.

harry rolls his eyes as you sit down beside him and continue to fuss over him. "mum, i'm fine. really."

but you don't let up. "you're looking more grown up every day. i've just missed you, haz."

finally, he smiles at you and gives you a hug first. you can only squeak with happiness.

ron turns to remus, his mouth already full of food. "can you believe it, professor? all term, those stupid gits—especially malfoy—saying all this rubbish about us. 'ohh, they're gettin great marks because lupin is in some weird relationship with potter's mum. ohh, i'm miserable and sad and have nothing better to do,'" you can't help but laugh at the voice he puts on to mock draco. "like, come off it!"

"bloke doesn't realize he's my bloody cousin," harry mutters with a laugh, looking up at sirius. "he's perpetuating family drama."

"that's all everyone in the black family is good for!" sirius smirks and raises his glass at his son.

"don't forget that time ginny hexed one his cronies into sneezing bubbles out his nose," ron continues, totally ignoring harry's attempt to change the subject, his voice muffled by food. "it was brilliant. she's got a bloody good knack for hexing people."

"i'm sure you're very proud," remus says with a fond chuckle. he looks at harry with a knowing glance. "ginny's been impressive this year, hasn't she? in class, on the quidditch field."

harry shifts in his seat, a little uncomfortable with the way the conversation is going. "speaking of..."

he trails off.

you perk up, still looking at him with that proud smile. "speaking of what, darling?"

"i got a girlfriend." harry blurts out, like it's nothing. he immediately looks down at his food, as if hoping the earth will open up and swallow him whole.

there's a long pause.

ron freezes mid-bite. his eyes narrow suspiciously. "wait," he starts, leaning forward. "you've got a girlfriend? what do you mean speaking of—"

now, harry looks panicked.

ron's eyes grow wide as realization dawns. "hold on. wait a second." he looks over at harry, his face suddenly turning red. "are you dating my sister, mate?"

you, james, and sirius all turn to stare at harry, eyes wide with surprise.

harry's face matches his father's signature look of horror and embarrassment. "no, no. what? it's not—"

"wait a moment," james interrupts, scrunching his eyebrows. "harry has a new girlfriend, and remus never told us a damn thing? you traitor! you're meant to be our spy!"

remus' jaw drops. "how is this on me! it would be overstepping if i had told you all!"

you can only smile. "i want to meet her!"

"mum, you've met her already! like when she was literally ten years old!" harry defends, shoving a forkful of greens in his mouth.

ron drops his fork , and the clatter shuts you all up. he stares at harry with a mix of disbelief and confusion. "you're telling me, right now, that you've been out with my sister, ginny, and you didn't tell me?!"

harry swallows hard and clears his throat nervously, squirming in his seat. "it's not like that. it's...it's just—"

ron looks like he's about to explode. "you are not dating my sister!" he says loudly. "this is not happening! you're not spending another holiday break at my house! you'll be all...all...canoodling!"

"CANOODLING?!" harry practically shouts.

your face goes red and you grab sirius' hands. you whisper, "we never even taught him what canoodling is."

"darling," remus whispers back from across the table. "i'm nearly positive he knows what canoodling is."

your eyes widen and your head whips to look at james. "if he's anything like you were at hogwarts—"

"hey!" james throws a wadded up napkin in your face.

"i can't believe this." ron looks like he's seriously struggling to contain himself. "this is my bloody sister we're talking about. i've known her since she was a baby, harry!"

ron glares at harry, who's still avoiding eye contact.

"a younger woman, haz?" sirius says to break the tension, raising an eyebrow. "disgusting."

"i'm younger than all!" you say, swatting sirius on the arm.

ron stares at you, and then back at harry. "you're not going near her. not until i'm finished with her first."

you laugh as harry groans and slumps down in his chair, knowing the next few days are going to be interesting. and merlin knows what will happen when he gets to the burrow.

i wrote this to give myself more time to write the next chapter for my fic. that one’s gonna be a doozy.

[muzzleguppy]

John Constantine was made to represent the common man. However he was later stripped of said humanity because comic writers couldn’t handle relating to a bi, mentally ill, homeless British guy.

I think a reason why many Hellblazer fans relate to John is because he IS them. Some Bloke who struggles. Who represents the average working class man. Friends struggling with addiction that consumes him like a monster. Ghost of past relationships that eats away at him and ruin his interpersonal relationship. Stigmatised mental health that makes it impossible for him to keep a job (an essay I am almost down btw) he’s so funny or relatable in a horror situation because he just wants to survive. A base urge all humanity can relate to. When he sees a monster he doesn’t go to slay it out of some heroism. He goes “fuck no” and sods off.

But.

Noticeably later writers chose to remove aspects about him that made him relatable. Kind. Like his love. Such a core feature of him removed and replaced with this overly cynical view of the world. I don’t think this was done out of malicious intent. While his character largely changes in newer comics to fit a narrative (and steal characters like Zatanna’s spotlight. Which is weird cus it kinda just feels like they wanted a man to take his role) I think it was instead new writers being uncomfortable about what he represents. How he was close to them. In an attempt to make John before “consumable” they villainised the very groups that read his comics.

Or something idk.

Consumerism killing the common man. Funny. Exactly what John protests about.

[dead-patrol]

its so beautiful how a posh white bloke from the edwardian era and an 80's working/middle class ska-punk can both, despite differences across time and upbringing, be united in having horribly repressed gay thoughts

[mochinek0]

Daminette December: 30-Dressed to Impress

Everyone in Gotham Academy knew that Marinette was beautiful. She wasn't one of the wealthier students, but she seemed to attract everyone with her smile.

Damian glanced down the hall, only to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng getting asked out again. He didn't see what was so special about her. He turned back down the hallway he had just came from, deciding to take the longer route to class.

'Why the hell is she getting asked out again? She should just pick one and end everyone's suffering.'

"You should have said yes." he heard someone tell her, "You're going to the Wayne Gala. You'll need a date."

'So she will be there as well. I wish Father would keep annoyances like her out of the event. Likely she will try to speak to me and react badly when I refuse.'

Damian stared as he recognized Marinette at the gala. She had a ombre dress that was dark in the middle and spread out to pink, with her hair in an intricate design. The difference startled him. The Marinette he saw at school was more relaxed. Damian had a hard time refocusing.

'I cannot grasp the change. She is not more attractive this way, but she is alluring at the same time. Her appearance has brought forth many of her features: her eyes appear bluer and she appears to hide her muscles.'

It took him a few moments to recognize she was standing next to Jagged Stone. Even from his distance, he could hear the rock star raving about Marinette being his personal designer and how talented she was.

"BUG!" a voice shouted.

Damian watched as a blonde boy ran up and hugged Marinette. She looked tiny in his arms. Damian just glared, waiting for her to shove him away.

"Don't yell that here!" she shouted at him, "This isn't the place for that! You could have scared someone and caused a disaster!"

From behind Jagged, a boy with ombre blue hair grabbed Marinette's hand and kissed it. It only instigated a fight with the blonde, where he took her other hand and kissed it. He watched as Marinette sighed, in what he could only perceive to be annoyance. Then began the whispers.

"Wow."

"Damn, so that's why I got rejected."

"Me too."

"So, which one do you think is her boyfriend?"

"The blonde seemed more excited to see her."

"But the other guy just swooped in and kissed her."

"Maybe they both are?"

If anything, the whispers dug the way into the young Wayne's brain.

'These idiots are the reasons for the rejections? They are why I have to hear people asking her out constantly?'

Damian growled as the trio began to laugh.

"Come." Bruce spoke, "I have some people I want you all to meet."

Damian followed, only to realize they were going over to Jagged Stone and his party.

"Jagged!" Bruce called out in his overly friendly tone.

"Brucie Boy!" Jagged shouted, hugging his old friend.

"You know Jagged Stone?" His brothers shouted.

"Know him?" Jagged laughed, "Bloke threw absolute ragers in college! His parties have toned down now but let me tell you-"

"Jagged, you said you have kids. Do you want your kids at those kinds of parties?" Bruce interrupted, hoping to get his point across.

Jagged rolled his eyes, "Alright. Luka is my boy. My daughter is with her wife, back in Paris." placing his left hand on his shoulder and then placed his right hand on the girls shoulder, "Marinette is my adopted niece and rockin' designer."

"Wait!" cried Tim, "You made his album cover?"

"And me clothes, Mate. What we're wearing right now is her exclusive clothing line." Jagged bragged.

"Your work is high quality for your age." Bruce declared, "Oh, right. Jagged you know my adopted boys: Dick, Jason, and Tim. This is my biological son, Damian." shoving him to the front.

Jagged cackled, "Looks just like you!"

Damian watched as Marinette blushed red and quickly looked down. Adrien caught the look and started laughing.

"You had no idea, did you?" he laughed.

"Oh, shut up!" she growled at him, "I didn't even know who you were and I follow fashion!"

"Ouch." Adrien smiled.

"You know my son?" Bruce asked, looking between them, praying nothing bad had happened already.

"Uh, I wouldn't really say I personally know. I've seen him at school." she replied.

"Yes, the Queen of Broken Hearts." Damian stated.

Marinette crossed her arms and glared at him, "Says the Ice Prince of Gotham."

The Wayne looked at each other, seeing it looked like the two were about to do battle.

"Broken Hearts, huh?" Luka teased, "Damn, even here, you're pulling people."

Marinette rolled her eyes and faced the blonde.

'So, she doesn't like the attention.'

"We both tried our luck with her, but ultimately failed." Adrien smiled, "Don't let us fool you though. She can pull girls, too."

"I'm not looking for romance right now!" Mari whined.

"At least you have options lined out the door for when you do." Luka smirked.

"We'll volunteer again." Adrien smiled.

Mari smacked them both in their chests.

"You both are dating, each other." Marinette cried out, "Adrien, you're practically family."

The boys looked at each other and smiled at her, "We don't mind a third, if it's you." they declared.

"I hate you both." Mari pouted, "You're both perfect for each other."

Jagged laughed, "I love having another musician in the family. Luka, when are you making Adrien my son-in-law?"

The boys turned red, while Marinette giggled.

"Why don't you and Bruce's boy go dance?" Jagged suggested, shoving her forward towards the Waynes.

"You want me to step on his foot?" she questioned.

"Bug, you dance flawlessly." Adrien spoke, "I don't know why you say you can't. Even Felix agrees with me and he's had years of dance recitals."

"Is that so?" Damian asked, grabbing her wrist, "Let's find out."

Marinette glared at Adrien, as she was dragged away, "No crossaints for you!"

"So what did you mean?" Damian questioned, as they began to dance.

"My family are bakers." She spoke, glancing down at her feet quickly, "He always asks me to make him some when he's not with my parents."

Damian tilted her face to look at his, "Baker, fashion designer to rockstars, college student. Is there anything you can't do?"

"Love." she whispered.

"Same." he answered.

Marinette focused on his facial features, gaining his curiosity.

"What?" he questioned.

"You're attractive." Mari stated.

Damian faltered for half a second, not expecting her bluntness.

"That's it?" Damian asked, suddenly expecting more of a compliment.

Mari huffed, "It's not like you want my opinion or actually care what I think. Besides, You seem like the type of person to look at someone as a whole."

"Explain." Damian spoke, trying to see her reasoning.

"You don't care if someone looks good. You care about actions. You care about your safety and making sure you're not hurt in the end. You're not going to entertain somoene who wants to marry you for your money. You want someone real and as real as you." Marinette declared.

The young Wayne was so enthralled with her words, he hadn't realized how close she was to his face.

"I, personally, hate rumors and tend not to believe them." she stated, "I can find out for myself if someone is trustworthy or just another liar. It's the same with fashion; people are more two-faced then Harvey Dent and just try to take the easy way to the top, usually with a drink or a bed."

Marinette pulled away and walked off, back to her company.

Damian stood there, rooted to the spot. As he gained his thoughts and walked away, he could hear the whispers.

"Is she dating Damian Wayne?"

"Fuck! I'm never gonna get her now!"

"What about me, huh? What about my chance with Damian?"

"What chance did you think you had? Obviously, she looks better."

"I can't believe you'd say that!"

"I don't know. He is the Ice Prince."

"And she's the Queen of Broken Hearts; your point?"

"Maybe she's out of his league. Queen and a prince?"

Damian smirked, getting an idea.

'Perhaps, this time, being close to a classmate would not be a bad thing. If I stay near her, I would not have to hear people asking her out. It would not clutter the hallways and I would not be late to class. I would not have to hear her name mentioned constantly around the school.'

The young Wayne looked back to see the blonde on his knees, hugging her legs. Marinette looked exasperated, while Jagged and his son laughed at the scene.

'He looks desperate. I wonder if her baking rivals Alfred's to make him put on that display.'

"So, Little D, what do you think?" Dick asked, hoping to hear his decision on the girl.

"Adequate dancer. Adequate conversation." The young Wayne stated, " I may have just solved an ongoing issue. Excuse me."

"Huh?" Tim questioned.

"Did the brat just compliment her?" Jason asked.

"I believe your brother did compliment the young lady." Bruce replied.

"Marinette." Damian spoke, standing in front of her, "I believe it would be fortunate for the both of us if we declared a relationship."

Damian watched as her cheeks turned red, at an alarming rate. Her party seemed stunned by his declaration.

"But you...why?" Mari finally asked, "From our conversation-"

"We both hate people surrounding us and the attention we bring about." Damian interrupted.

"Us dating....would get people to stop." Marinette concluded.

"Mari." Adrien spoke up.

"You are asking me to....fake date you, so you don't get asked out, but by extension, neither will I." Mari declared.

Damian nodded, "Correct."

"Sure." Marinette smiled, "You got a deal."

"What?" Cried the boys with her.

"Oh, and expect a care package. My boyfriend can't dress like that. The design doesn't suit you. I'll make sure my clothes do." she declared.

Damian bowed and walked back to his family.

"What was that?" Asked Tim.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng is now my girlfriend. " the youngest Wayne announced.

They were silent for a moment, but Jason broke the tension.

"Guess she impressed the brat." He stated

'Impressed? Perhaps.'

Damian looked back towards Marinette. He wouldn't have just chosen anyone to be in a relationship with, even if it was just for appearances. 

@maribat-calendar-events

TAG LIST- DAMINETTE: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb

UNSPECIFIED- @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog @blushmimi

[revelboo]

Can I request more D-16, please? I finally got to see the movie and my heart is hurting.

Sure!

Fight for You Pt 5

D-16 x Reader

• ‘What is it?’ Orion asks, reaching out a servo and he grabs his friend by the wrist. Trusts Orion, he’s his best friend, but you’re just so fragile and looking up at him. Trembling. “They’re a mini-con and you can’t tell anyone about them,” he says, gently pushing Orion’s hand away so he doesn’t just grab at you. And you’ve backed yourself into a corner, chirping nervously. Reaching out he crooks a servo at you. “Come on, it’s okay,” he croons and your round head tips up toward him, then turns to study Orion before wandering over to him and you reach to lay those tiny hands on one of his servos to make his spark warm. ‘D, I don’t think that’s a mini-con,’ Orion mutters, crouching down beside him.

• Shying away when your giant’s companion stretches a servo toward you and yours growls at him, you hope that your guy telling this giant about you means the new one is trustworthy. Because you’re pretty much helpless to their whims, something you’re painfully aware of. “I trust you big guy,” you whisper, nose wrinkling when his buddy makes soft, repetitive noises at you. Is he making psst psst sounds at you like you’re a stray cat?

• Pleased despite himself when you ignore Orion’s attempts to coax you closer, he reaches in and cups his hands around you, lifting you free of his locker. “Of course they’re a mini-con. They’re Megatronus’s mini-con,” he says as he cradles you close, listening to you chirp as you make yourself comfortable in his hands. ‘You sure? I’ve never heard of Megatronus Prime having a mini-con,’ Orion says, reaching to touch you and you lift a tiny hand like you’re ready to swat him. So fierce for being so small.

• Smacking at his friend’s servo when he reaches to nudge your helmet, you don’t relax until your giant turns slightly to put himself between you and the newcomer with a rumbling growl that you really hope is him telling the other one off for poking at you. Because yours has been so incredibly gentle with you, and this other one is smiling crookedly down at you like you’re a curiosity. As yours cups you to his chassis and says something to his companion, you really wish you knew what was going on. For all you know, your guy is trying to give you away to this guy. Suddenly afraid, you reach out to pat his chassis until he looks down at you. How do you mime ‘Please don’t leave me with this stranger?’

• Rumbling in amusement when you flap your tiny hands about, chirping and pointing at yourself, him, and Orion. At Orion a lot. Clearing his vents loudly, he’s not surprised. Everyone always likes Orion better, he’s friendlier, easier to get along with, the one that’s better at understanding others. Mildly hurt that even you prefer Orion, he starts to hand you over and you screech at him. Grabbing onto his servos and fussing at him, flailing a hand at Orion as if to fend him off. Not wanting to go to Orion. Choosing him and he cradles you even closer, servos sliding over you until you calm. ‘I don’t think they like me,’ Orion says with a frown as you chirp aggressively.

Previous

Next

Someone had asked about scales and minis, so there’s a few different scales, but 1/24, 1/12, and 1/6 are pretty common

1/24 would be like the Rolife super creator kits. That stuff scales well with the tiny Defender Blokees and comes with a ton of stuff in each kit

1/12 is a super common dollhouse scale and works well with Galaxy class Blokees. You can find that stuff at hobby stores pretty cheap.

1/6 scale is pretty big think, the Re-Ment minis. Those work for Flame Toys or similar sized figures like the studio series Bumblebee Movie Soundwave

The MiniVerse make it from scratch blind boxes don’t have a set scale. Some of it’s going to be 1/12 and will work with Blokees and some is going to be 1/6. The cupcakes are 1/12, but the cat cookies are 1/6. Zuru’s mini brands are the same way