#if it looks like I just learned how to draw

[cup-o-stars]

Relativity Falls!

Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):

Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.

I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.

Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.

Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.

Stanford and Stanley:

Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.

Fiddleford:

He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.

Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).

Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)

On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).

Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.

(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)

[kittykat-25]

HOME- An S.Coups Fic

Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: Comfort, Scoups savings the day

Synopsis: you’ve never had an issue with hiding your relationship with Seungcheol but he does when your ex gets a little too close.

A/N: me being completely WHIPPED for Choi Seungcheol. This is my first Seventeen Fic so I hope you enjoy🥹

The SVT men’s POV here

Sitting at dinner with your friends from your home town whom you haven’t seen since you moved almost a year ago. You glared at your so called best friend; Tori, she raised her eyebrow at you in question. You cut your eyes to the man sitting beside you, a little too close for comfort. Your ex, who you were not told was coming on this trip smiles at you. You force a smile and turn to glare at your friend. “Your hairs longer.” He said twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “Yeah hair grows out in a year.” You mumbled pulling your head away. “How do you like living in Seoul?” Another friend asked. “I love it, I love the fast pace and the friends I’ve made are incredible, learning the language was a hard start but you pick it up fast.” You friend scoffs, “tell us more about this boyfriend of yours? We don’t even know his name.” You smile as Cheols face fills your mind, “he’s amazing,I’m sorry he couldn’t be here tonight.” You missed your best friend roll her eyes. You jump feeling a hand brush your thigh, grazing the skin where your dress ends. You look over and find your ex smirking at you, shoving his hand away. “Stop.” You said quiet enough to not draw attention. He chuckled and leans back and your friends pepper you with more questions.

A while later you’ve had enough of the constant touches and sly comments from your ex. You excuse yourself and walk towards the bathroom pulling your phone out pressing the first contact in your recents, “Choi Seongcheols phone, the other love of his life speaking!” Rings out as Jeonghan; you and Cheols best friend answers, his voice bringing you small amount of comfort.” Hannie,-“ you are quickly cut off.” Y/n, why are you being such a bitch tonight.” You mute Jeonghan and turn towards your old friend, “excuse me?” You ask, “you are being so rude to him, bringing up a boyfriend that probably doesn’t even exist, you broke his heart and then fled the country. Give him a break.” You laugh, though there’s no humor behind it. “I broke his heart, he cheated on me. He needs to get over it. It’s the consequences of his actions.” You add, “and you asked about My love life. I told you already I was seeing someone. You chose to do that.” You snapped back. “Oh please, we both know you don’t actually have a boyfriend. You just want to make it seem like you have it together over here. When clearly you are losing it.“ Tori scoffs, you roll your eyes, “Fuck you.” Tori’s jaw drops a little, stunned by your reaction. “You’ve turned into a real bitch since you moved. You never use to treat me this way.” You rolled your eyes, “I apologize that me no longer being a push over inconveniences you.” She stomps by and you let out an exhale before turning your attention back to the phone call. “Y/n” Jeonghan started, “please come get me.” You sigh into the phone. “CHEOL” you hear another friend yell, Joshua by the sounds of it. “Where are you?” He asked as you hear shoes being thrown on. The voice of your boyfriend coming to life in the background. “Baby? What happened?” He ground out, worry laced in his words. You heard the car door shut, multiple voices pilling in. “Her friends are dicks, did they tell you your ex was going to be here.” Jeonghan said gruffly. “No.” your voice said shakily. “He won’t stop making comments and- touching me.” You add quieter. You hear an exhale and know it’s Cheol. “He touched you?” A deeper voice asked kindly but you can hear the venom that’s not normally there, Wonwoo. “I’m interrupting guys night, I’m so sorry.” You apologized when you processed all the voices you had heard. “Don’t you dare apologize for calling me when you need me baby.” your boyfriend exclaimed, “We’re five minutes away y/n. We’ll see you soon.” Jeonghan calls to you before the call ends.

You put on a brave face and walk back to the table. Your ex takes him time racking his eyes over you, bile rising in your throat. But your old friend was right, you had changed since you moved. You were no longer timid and shy. Being best friends and dating the leader of Seventeen will do that to a person. Hard to be scared when 13 guys have your back, the few men on their way proving that point. You never told your friend you were dating Cheol, she was a fan and you didn’t need the rumors starting, you had been very careful with your relationship. Only Pledis and your families knew. And yet here he comes to rescue you, the guilt of what this will publicly do starts the make you panic. Worsening as you sat down, your exes hand came down on your thigh. You shoved him off, “do not touch me.” You stated. Loud enough for the three others to hear. He laughed, “there’s no harm in it y/n.” You glare at him, “there is when I said stop. Multiple times now.” Your other friends chuckle, “yall bicker like a married couple.” Tori says with a smile. “It’s not bickering when he crosses boundaries.” You snap. You look into the reflection of the mirror on the wall, breathing a sigh of relief when you see the familiar black car of your boyfriend pull up. Your grin falters when you feel the weight of a hand on your thigh again. You shove him hand off and onto the table, not even thinking before grabbing the steak knife as well. Stabbing it into the table between his fingers. “Touch me again and it’ll go through your hand.” Venom dripped from your voice, your exes face turned sour, his hand rearing back before it was caught in a thigh grip. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Cheol spat, shaving him away from you. Tori gasped when she realized who was behind you, his hand out reached for you to take. You grabbed your purse and slid your hand into his, pulling you gently to your feet, you looked behind him to find Jeonghan standing behind Cheol, Joshua, Wonwoo and Mingyu standing a few feet away. A hard look on their faces, “please take her to the car.” He called back, you walked towards your friends, smirking at Cheols dominance. You made it to the door of the restaurant when you turned back, Cheol leaning down saying something to your old friends making their faces pale. He straightened up, face hard but completely melting into a soft smile for you. Taking your hand and leading you to the car, putting the restaurant and your old friends in the past.

A/n: sooo I might post a pt2 of some sorts. Maybe from Jeonghan’s POV but I hope you enjoyyy

[laurrelise]

13 y/o delores doodles !! <3

omg thank you for asking!! yes, my brain is still rotting over delores and five!!

i can’t stop thinking about five discovering delores and them surviving the apocalypse together so these doodles are dedicated to apocalypse outfits B) i cannot get OVER the overalls. she looks adorable argue with the wall

@unicorninatophat and i absolutely yapped about her possibly looking like annesophia robb in bridge to terabithia??? and now i can’t stop picturing young delores with the short, messy blonde hair????? and i love it???? a lot actually?????

^ my main reference pic!!!!

anyways that’s all thank you for viewing my art. very kind of you to do that

[cyanidedrinkers]

Wade Winston Wilson and Tony 'I am Iron man' Stark

I think a lot of people forget just how incredibly smart Deadpool is. This man was in the special forces, You dont get there by being stupid. Now, I know he was discharged but still. It's been proven over and over again that this man can put together an amazing plan and is a very quick thinker- Now: Give me Wade who knows how everyone sees him, Stupid, loud, annoying and lets them think that way. Give me Wade who's scared of showing that he can have a coherent thought even after the mutation and after his brain broke and after he started talking to audience. because he's built this facade and it's easier for everyone to expect nothing from him then for them to expect everything because he's scared. Give me Wade whos scared of rejection from not only his friends and family but his coworkers and those he looks up to so he plays the dumb card and the crazy card and he plays it well Give me Wade who thinks with his hands Give me Wade who has very precise hand signals, Some that came over from his special ops days and some that he's made up for himself, to think because his brain is so loud he has to voice every thought or at least make it physical in some way so he doesnt forget it Give me someone who learns his hand signals and uses that to put his ideas into place (backtracking to my later post about Iron man and Deadpool respecting each other) Give me Tony who notices his hand signals and little drawings on the edge of his notepad and voices them for Wade like their his own ideas, Not out of malice or because he wants to steal them but because he believes in Wade and knows he's a smart man Give me Tony who keeps Deadpool behind in meetings to ask for his opinion on the matter and implements that into his plan as well because you cant tell me Wade doesnt know the best way to infiltrate a highly secured base. Give me Wade who's eyes light up everytime his plan works because he's forgotten how smart he actually is Give me Tony who learns Wades hand signs and uses them in battle, like a secret code to each other Give me the others confused by why Tony and Wade are just staring at each other only for Tony to turn to them and tell them they're changing their entire plan Give me Logan or anyone really walking in on one of Wade and Tonys private chats to see Wade, map out, little marks via figurines that Tony made (They're replicas of everyone on the team to help Deadpool visualize better), giving precise and logical ideas and Tony just nodding along Let it be Tony and Wades secret that he's not stupid. He's a smart guy, smarter than a lot of people but the pressure of being smart never appealed to him Give me Wade who asks questions about Tonys tech and Tony asking questions about Deadpools healing factor Give me Tony who allows Deadpool into his lab and lets the man watch him until he falls asleep and Tony just draps a blanket over him Give me Wade and Tony who are two very intelligent but broken people understanding each other and having the others back when no one else will.

[entiqua]

I love your artstyle!! Do you have any tips for drawing?

thank you so much! i'm really happy you like it!!💗 as for tips, what i would say would change drastically depending on what kind you're looking for, but some very general ones:

draw what you love and want to see most, regardless of whether anyone else wants to see it. if you don't enjoy what you're drawing it'll never come out as good or genuine as something your whole heart and soul is in. i mean you'd think this would be a no-brainer but sometimes i've had to sit back and ask myself 'if no one was ever going to see this except me, would i actually spend time drawing this?' and i was surprised by the answer

that said, it is also completely valid if your motivation for drawing is to draw for other people! there have been plenty of times where i was too artblocked to draw my own ideas but was still able to draw commissions or gifts and enjoyed it simply because making other people happy with my art makes me happy.

don't get too caught up in having a consistent art style. in my experience this 1000% hinders you

having your sense of anatomy degrade over time without you noticing because you keep drawing the same types of characters is a very real thing! if this is a concern to you be sure to draw a variety

follow a billion artists that you like the art of and you will have endless inspiration injected directly into your brain every time you open social media

my favourite practical tip for those who draw at a desk: keep a small mirror next to you at all times. absolute game changer for quickly referencing hands

if you're drawing digitally, make the canvas huge! in my experience this lets you draw messier/faster and you can't tell at all when you zoom out. if you tend to get stuck spending unnecessary amounts of time micromanaging pixels (me💀) keep it zoomed out while drawing

related to the above point, messy drawings can have far more expressiveness in them than neat and polished drawings. nowadays i never do lineart and go straight from 'barebones stickman pose' to 'varying-levels-of-coherent sketch' and use that as my lineart. sweet freedom from the sketch-looks-better-than-the-lineart phenomenon

if your goal is to improve, then you really do have to scrutinize your art, figure out what you're not satisfied with, and commit the time to focusing on it. 'practice makes perfect' kinda rubs me the wrong way because of how much i've seen it interpreted as 'just draw everyday and you'll magically improve' but genuinely it won't get you very far if you don't actively think hard about what you're trying to improve and take the steps to do it. is this a hot take idk. also hand in hand with this, not every artist is trying to improve and you shouldn't feel bad for this! maybe you just wanna make a little headshot doodle of your fave blorbo and that's your only drawing goal ever. awesome. maybe you know your art has flaws but it's passable enough to convey what you want and you're perfectly satisfied with that. (this is the stage i'm usually at). also awesome!

don't hesitate to draw something because you think it's out of your skill level. the worst that can happen if you draw it is that it comes out terribly but you learned something and can always redraw it better in the future. the worst that WILL happen if you don't draw it is that you'll never draw it. and then it will sit in the back of your brain haunting you for years. it's not like i'm speaking from experience or anything aha

look up 'hand stretches for artists' and do them if you draw a lot unless you wish to summon the wrath of the carpal tunnel demons

of course, these may not necessarily work for you, and most importantly(!) these are coming from the perspective of someone who is primarily a hobbyist. some of this won't be practical for people who need to build an audience, maintain a consistent style for work, etc. these are just things that have personally helped me over many years of drawing :)

[inkblottzz]

grins mischievously and rubs my hands together like a fly

i think human ink would frequently get bored of his hair color and hair style, trying out lots of different things!! he would definitely forget to maintain the dyejob tho so his white roots get REALLY bad until he dyes it again LMAO

while his dads aren't japanese (zephyr is french and idrk about undertop), they enjoy ink showing them japanese culture and participating in traditions and such :-)

ink, since they're immortal, decided he would dedicate his freetime into learning a bunch of different cultures and languages! this always tends to surprise others, since ink's short-term memory is absolute garbage. nobody understands how he remembers EVERYTHING about EVERY culture 😭😭🙏 you CANNOT keep a secret from this mofo no matter what language you speak

i think they would keep a digital diary with a camera! he records important events/moments so they can always look back at them, since he forgets a lot. his camera is mostly filled up with memories with their dads 🫶

ink LOVESS to bake!! he enjoys trying out different recepies and pastries from all around the world, but his favorites are macarons. he enjoys cooking as well, but moreso appreciates baking because of the exact instructions/measurements. (he is autistic like me and needs clear instructions or he will combust real and true trust me on this)

he has WAY too many hobbies for a normal person to keep up with. flute, baking, drawing, painting, writing, dancing, crocheting, knitting, embroidery, singing, gardening, you NAME it. any form of art, they know how to do and are surprisingly good at it

ink struggles with keeping up with his own very very busy mind. they have so many projects he wants to execute, but can only push out a few at a time. he hates having unfinished projects, and will stick with something until the end—for better or for worse.

he loves to paint over his vitiligo spots, or just painting on himself in general. they think it's fun & interesting to see how the spots shift and change on his skin, never growing bored of them.

-> his spots shift whenever code for a new AU is created, soo it's never really consistent LOL

he loves all forms of music, but holds a special place in his heart for songs that include lots of different classic instrumentals, like violin. he loves artists like fish in a birdcage and sparkbird (yes im projecting and you can't stop me)

he sometimes will drink paint out of the blue in front of others just for their reactions. they are priceless to ink and ALWAYS make him crack up so bad.. and then he has to explain that "nonono my paint specifically is okay for me to drink guys im not gonna die dw" ☠️☠️

ANNDDD i should probably stop there.. this post is so long LMFAO 😭😭 honestly most of these are just my normal ink headcanons, human or not, so take these as you will 🗣️🗣️

[hiraethwa]

to be loved is to be known

one; you are not meant for me // but the heart wants what it wants

<the collection — to be loved is to be known>

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, blasphemy, currently married!reader, fluff if you squint (no adultery)

wc.4.2k

featured track. the 6th summer by PLAVE

my heart knew it was you from the moment we met. but you were never mine to begin with.

kageyama tobio is a logical person. his teammates would describe him as a mechanically precise monster who can effectively deconstruct opponent plays and use his insights to counter strategize their own attacks. a highly rationale driven individual, known to be impassive off court. 

in his high school years, he has watched his senpais yearn after their manager, even hinata, falling for a classmate in their third year, the relationship ending in tears when they broke it off because hinata was leaving to brazil. he has seen love take precedent and how it always seem to break the hearts of those involved. 

but he never understood why someone would put so much of themselves on line to love someone who could choose to walk away at any point in time. 

unlike most people’s beliefs, kageyama isn’t heartless, or emotionless, or indifferent to love. after all, he loves volleyball just fine. it’s just—he figures, why love someone, when they always leave you behind, whether voluntarily or otherwise?—why love someone, when he can choose to devote himself to volleyball which will never abandon him?

and then you came into the picture, wholly unaccounted for. a fellow setter, a true rival, and he found himself wanting to fly with you. someone who understands his pivotal role in his team’s offense, the control tower, as he had once said to hinata. someone who obsesses over every little detail as he does.

at first, he had attributed the feeling of recognition to meeting a true rival in you as a fellow setter. that feeling that he had yearned for as a middle schooler watching the senpai he looked up to, oikawa-san, serve and set like a god. the connection he missed due to rivalry, and the connections he severed unknowingly to be the team that stays on the court the longest. 

it couldn’t have been love, because if it was, then he would also be in love with hinata like everyone keeps saying. besides, why would he fall for someone who is in a relationship?

it would be immoral to fall for you, he reasons, you are dating kuroo-san.

he quickly learns that despite the warm demeanor you have when it comes to volleyball, you keep everyone at an arm’s length outside of it. he notices the line you draw between your professional career and your personal life, and he is careful to stay on the right side. 

he allows you to set the boundaries that you are comfortable with, keeping to the practice meets that became a monthly routine where you exchange your latest updates on your plays and offer pointers on improving, dissecting each other’s games that quickly spilled over into its own afternoon meetups over coffee. 

slowly but surely, it turns from a fan and her idolized player into two equals analyzing and plotting improvements for their next game strategies. 

of course, kageyama shares the admiration that comes from picking your brain on his weekly calls with hinata. 

“i don’t know how i didn’t think of that before oumae-san suggested it—” he stops himself as he catches hinata giving him a look of sympathy, snapping at the older boy, “what?”

“kageyama, do you know how many times i have heard you talk about oumae-san in the past months?”

“huh? why would i be keeping count?” he frowns at him through the screen.

hinata nods in pity, “exactly. i don’t know either because you are constantly saying oumae-san this, oumae-san that.”

kageyama averts his eyes from his friend, feeling the tips of his ears warming under his inspection. “i don’t talk about her that much.” it comes out in an unconvincing mumble.

“you know i would support you no matter what you do, but oumae-san is getting married to kuroo-san soon. i don’t think it’s good for you to keep pining after a soon-to-be married woman.”

he wishes he could snipe the orange haired boy through the screen, only because he is right. he drags a hand over his face in frustration. damn him, he knows that he is falling for you, but he is utterly helpless in stopping himself. 

you’re a dreamy sunny day that he wishes to bask in forever. too bad kageyama is the snow storm that sweeps through winter. 

kageyama tobio well knows that he is truly hopeless from the moment he realized that he fell for you, the mind behind the name. 

he is in love with the way your mind works to find counters against your opponent’s defense and open up a path for your team’s attacks. the way you find just the perfect moment to do a setter dump, catching the other team unaware. the way you dissect and analyze plays calmly during timeouts. the way you listen intently to him when he speaks.

the worst part is that you are not even trying to make him fall for you. you are just being your perfectly normal self, keeping all your interactions at a respectful and professional level—probably more professional than respectful at this point, since you would give him shit for his unforced errors. (actually, he also likes that you keep him accountable, unlike most people who would brush them off as mistakes that happen sometimes.)

that gods-forsaken line between your professional and personal lives now more solid than before as a married woman. 

and yet, he had fallen for you without even trying. 

he had tried to follow hinata’s advice to move on from you, to quote him directly—“stop putting her on a pedestal. she’s only human, she is bound to have something that irks you.”

he tried, really, to find your faults in your interactions. the tiny crease between your eyebrows as you think hard about the game you are exchanging analysis on, the small pout on your lips as you work through possible counterattacks. your dry reply when he says something dumb, or the excitement in your eyes when recounting a strategy (that you both came up with together) that worked. 

it’s not working. in fact, it’s achieving quite the opposite of moving on from you.

he curses hinata shoyo for his shit advice as he watches your practice match against france from the vip section in the stands. something feels off, he thinks, finding that you are not landing evenly on both feet when you set to your spikers. 

he realizes a moment too late that you are heavily favoring your left foot over the other just as you land awkwardly on your ankle—your shrill yelp sounding from the court. 

kageyama jumps to his feet worriedly, hands gripping the back of the seat in front of him as he peers over to you. he reminds himself that he is just another professional acquaintance of yours, forcing himself to take a seat as your coach and teammates rush over to you. 

you don’t play for the rest of the game. 

later that night, upon finding no news from any media outlets about the severity of your injury after scouring the internet, he starts typing out a message to you—how are you doing?

no, that won’t do, he shakes his head, deleting the small letters on his phone before typing out another message—is your ankle alright?

he pauses for a few moments, wondering if he would be crossing a boundary to inquire about your wellbeing. i probably shouldn’t, he decides against it for the better, choosing to believe (or hope) that no news is good news. 

he erases the message to your number, letting the device fall next to him as he puts his arm over his forehead. fuck, what am i doing? 

you have a loving husband to go home to, who will take good care of you. there’s no place for someone as removed as him to be worrying after you.

after all, gods are meant to be worshiped from a distance, and you would fit right in next to the ones who torment him so. 

to his dismay, his delusions of relief only lasted a few days. 

kageyama tobio knows something is wrong the moment he finds the court empty on the third friday of the month. the court that you live and breathe on. the court that he always finds you practicing your serves while waiting for him. 

his heart catches in his throat as he rings your number, holding his breath as he desperately hopes that you are okay. 

you pick up on the seventh ring. “kageyama-san? ah, sorry. i forgot to tell you that i won’t be able to make it to practice today.”

“it’s fine, kuroo-san. i was at your match on sunday. are you doing alright?” you both stubbornly stick to using formalities when addressing each other—kuroo-san to remind himself that you are so far beyond his reach that he can just forget about it. (he doesn’t.)

“oh, that? i’m fine,” kageyama breathes out a sigh of relief from hearing your words. relief that comes too soon, as it is quickly followed by your strangled yelp coming from the other end.

“that didn’t sound like you are fine.” he realizes you must be saying that just to keep him from worrying, any rational thought flying out of his mind. 

he had seen kuroo-san, your husband in passing at work just this morning, but if you’re injured, and still stubbornly moving around, or worse, even keeping it from your own husband—“send me your address, i’ll be over soon.”

kageyama ends up having to call in the team physician to look at your horribly swollen ankle, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep himself in line. the tips of his fingers twitch every so often when you wince at her touch as she inspects your ankle. 

he tells himself that you are so, so strictly off limits. 

though, he makes the mistake of asking about kuroo-san, your husband. he wishes that the words never left his lips as his eyes catch the microexpression that betrays your emotions. you quickly brushes off his question with a joke, as if you have had plenty of practice.

he barely keeps that haze of anger in check as he calls your husband after excusing himself for the night and wishing you a speedy recovery, not allowing himself to ponder on the ‘what could have been’s—of how he would never put work above you, especially if you’re hurt.

he politely explains your situation to your husband, and yet kuroo has the audacity to sound offended at his request to spend more time taking care of you in your condition as an outsider.

“she’s my wife, i know how to take care of her.”

then act like it. kageyama bites back the retort, knowing that it wouldn’t help matters—that it might actually add to your burden instead of easing it. 

he bristles when kuroo tells him that he has to go finish up some work before he could leave, mystified as to why kuroo would ever put work above you. 

kageyama pockets his phone and lets his arm hang lax by his side, shaking his head at himself. it’s not his place to worry over you, much less tell kuroo how to be a husband. 

the gods have judged him, and deemed him unworthy of you. 

kageyama tobio knows your serve routine by heart. a tuck of your hair over your left ear, then your right, followed by a swish of your ponytail to confirm that it is holding securely. fingers smoothing over the hem of your jersey. your left hand outstretched with the ball in front of you, you would lick over your top lip, teeth catching your bottom lip before you launch the ball upwards and forwards, body coiling into a spring that shoots the ball out across the net.

he knows the extra time you take to warm up your right wrist due to a prior injury. the overly bubbly personality that you hide behind when you are upset or disappointed. the modest smile that is dazzling (he swears that you really do sparkle when you smile like that), not because you’re pulling your charm out, but because you are not. 

your unpretentious smile that comes from the heart still guts him each time becoming less common, to his disappointment. and gods, does he try to coax that smile from you when he sees you, would give you the entire universe with all the planets and stars in it if he could, just to see the unfiltered crooked smile from you. the one you claim to hate because it reveals the singular dimple on your cheek. 

he also knows that you love flowers, deduced from the bouquet of peonies on your lockscreen and the different floral arrangements that you post to your social media each week. and your order at the coffee shop that you get without fail—latte with lavender and honey instead of simple syrup.

he knows all the details he picked up from his observations in the time he has known you, details that he absolutely adore, while being hyper cognizant of the line drawn between you. 

he knows, lives at the edge of that boundary drawn by you, enforced by him. his iron grip on his own actions to hold the line, keeping his desires as they are—a daydream of a world where the gods favored him. 

kageyama knows this all too well. 

and because of that, he knows something is not right when your contact lights up his phone screen with an incoming call on a friday night. 

your number is saved under kuroo y/n, a reminder of where he stands in your life. he addresses you as kuroo-san, another constant reminder to stand firm on his side of the line. 

he hesitates, but his index finger swipes across the screen, accepting your call before his logical side could stop it.

your voice crackles across the line before he could get a word in. “you finally picked up!” 

he could just picture the pout on your face (that also appears during practices when you mess up), but it was the childish whimsy that accompanies your slurred words that dusts his cheeks in pink—the intimacy in your tone that he suspects is not meant for his ears.

“i miss you,” you admit softly, sadly, in a tone that makes his heart clench in pain. as much as he would like to give you comfort, anything you ask him for, really, he knows he’s not the one you’re really looking for. 

“yuki, give that back!” you complain, sounding further away from your phone. another female voice comes into the call, “no, is that kuroo tetsuro? that asshole!” 

kageyama thinks he should say something to clear up the situation, but the words die in his throat—what could he say, really?

“wait, what? kageyama?” the other female mumbles to herself, and kageyama assumes that whoever that yuki is returns the phone to you as your sweet voice calls out to him again. 

“are you done with work yet? you’ve been so busy again lately…” you trail off, “do you think we will go see the cherry blossoms outside of tokyo next year? you promised we would this year, but something came up with your work.”

he really doesn’t want to jump to conclusions about your marriage, but he would be lying if your words don’t make him upset on your behalf. it makes his blood boil to even think about his senpai prioritizing work over his wife. from what he witnessed when you were injured, and now this—you begging for his time, it is exceeding hard to believe otherwise. 

why would he choose work over you? he tries not to read too much into the situation, but—if that asshole is really making you live on scraps of his love, why are you still with him? 

oh right, because you love kuroo tetsuro. 

if kageyama was in his shoes, he would never make you ask him for his time. in fact, he would make sure you feel like the most loved person in the entire world. what do you even see in him— 

he shakes himself out of his intrusive thoughts, wondering instead if he made the right decision to give kuroo a push back then; if he just contributed to dragging out your situation rather than helping. he reminds himself that you had looked happier in the following weeks, until now.

he opens his mouth to say something, but your friend beats him to it. “say, you should come pick y/n up! it’s pretty late and she’s so plastered.”

finally, he stumbles to his words. “kuroo-san, i don’t think—”

he isn’t sure if you hear him over the loud music in the background and your friend’s insistence for him to come pick you up. “i’ll send the address to you, please come get her before she drinks herself to death.” 

he wonders if she knows. 

it isn’t long before he pulls up at the address you sent him, parking at a street lot that opened up as he drove by, lucky him. kageyama feels out of place among the partygoers in the club, dressed in sweats and an oversized hoodie over his plain t-shirt. 

he wonders if you would be disappointed to see him instead of your husband. your good for nothing husband who is apparently still at work on a friday night.

kageyama tells himself he shouldn’t feel as crestfallen as he does at that thought. just as he shouldn’t feel the skip in his heartbeat when his eyes land on you, or the urge to pull you into his arms and kiss the top of your head. 

or the protective instinct that kicks in as he gets closer, sensing the exhaustion in your demeanor, wishing to shield you against everything that the world throws at you. 

he really, really shouldn’t feel the relief that floods his veins at the gratitude in your eyes—not disappointment, he notes—and the gentle smile that graces your lips at his approach. that smile that he loves so much, knocking the breath out of him, reflecting on his own features that are normally set in a disinterested scowl. 

gods, is there anything he wouldn’t do to keep that smile on your face?

“tobio, you came.” his name leaving your lips for the first time, as you fling yourself into his arms with such familiarity that he has never seen from you. it takes every inch of his willpower to not crumble to the floor before you, beg you to let him love and worship you for the goddess you are. 

it takes every shred of his resolve to keep the words from overflowing past that cursed line. to keep his features neutral, intercept the storm ripping through his winter from touching your pleasant spring. 

so he holds on to you awkwardly, savoring the rare moment of affection, mumbling into your hair, “you called.”

“mmm, we’re celebrating my birthday! do you want a drink?” he releases you first, letting his arms fall to his sides. you tug him towards the bar before another woman stops you, disapproval set in the lines of her face.

“i let you out of my sight to go to the bathroom for a few minutes, and you’re already making a beeline to the bar.” this must be the yuki on the phone then. her eyes flicker behind you to kageyama. “this is kageyama?” 

“kageyama tobio, nice to meet you.” he manages a stiff nod.

“tsuda yuki. thanks for coming on a short notice, i appreciate it. she really doesn’t want to leave, and kuroo isn’t picking up.” yuki keeps a firm grip on you, tugging you in the opposite direction—to the exit, narrowing her eyes when you pout at her. 

you seem to have mellowed out since kageyama arrived, the sadness behind your eyes just a tad lighter if the strobing lights weren’t playing tricks on her. oh, whatever works, works. it’s almost two in the morning, and she thanks the gods that you are finally willing to go. 

yuki exchanges a few words with kageyama before they come to a mutual decision to have him drop you home since he has a car and she has to call a cab in the opposite direction of where you live. 

“be good for kageyama, please?” she basically begs you to be on your best behavior as her cab shows up. you’re clinging onto her like your life depends on it.

“we’ll be fine, tsuda-san.” kageyama tries to assure her, but she shoots him a look of disbelief. 

“you don’t know her like i do. she is… really out of hand when she has alcohol in her system. the last time she was this drunk, she tried to—” the cab honks at her to hurry up. “are you sure you got this?”

“yeah, i’ll have her call you when i drop her off.”

tsuda-san is right. kageyama comes to that conclusion after spending 15 minutes trying to get you into the passenger seat and checking that you put your seatbelt on.

he breathes a sigh of relief, focusing on the road ahead as you finally settle down, preoccupied with the buildings and bright lights that pass by in a blur. strangely enough he finds that he didn’t mind it one bit, having his hands full with taking care of a drunk you. he actually found this wild, unchecked side of you endearing.

he gently shakes you awake once he parks the car. it seems like most of the alcoholic effects have worn off during the drive as you lean onto him for support in the elevator, yawning and rubbing your tired eyes. 

your apartment is dark, devoid of life as you enter, kicking your shoes off in the entryway, mumbling a tadaima, mostly to yourself. kageyama would have missed it if he was not following closely behind you, making sure you don’t trip and fall over. 

his heart aches at the thought of you coming home to an empty apartment, your tadaima announcing that you’re home unmet with its other okaeri half from your husband to welcome you back. 

“make yourself at home, tobio,” you curl up on the couch, putting on a travel vlog on the tv on a low volume before dialing yuki’s number, letting her know you’re home safely. 

“hey, why don’t you change into more comfortable clothes? let me get you some painkillers. where is the medicine cabinet?” he nudges your shoulder. you lean back against the headrest, pouting at him again. if only you knew the effect you have on him.

“i’m lazyyy.” 

kageyama attempts to reason with you. “c’mon, you can go to bed right after too.”

“too tired to move.” you cross your arms at him. 

“kuroo-san…” he sighs. 

“why do you always call me that? my name is y/n, you know.”

“y/n, would you please change into pajamas?”

“nope.”

“what can i do to change your mind?”

your grin splits your face from ear to ear. “you could carry me to the room.”

“what—” he rubs the spot between his eyebrows. “okay, fine.”

kageyama scoops you into his arms effortlessly, and can't help but notice how the shape of you fits perfectly against him. your eyelashes flutter close as you rest your head against his shoulder, inhaling deeply and exhaling the spooled stiffness in your frame. 

the fullness in his heart lasts less than a minute. he catches himself staring at you when you meet his gaze, fingers smoothing against his brow as your feet touch the floor. “you’re going to get wrinkles before your time, tobio.”

he scurries back to the living room, leaving it at that. his cheeks are colored again, his back against the shut door of your bedroom, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. 

“stop it.” he mutters, more so at himself than anything, looking through the cabinets in the kitchen for some painkillers, and filling two tall glasses of water for you. he knocks on your door after a few minutes, easing the door open carefully when you tell him he’s clear to enter. 

he hands you the pills in one hand, water glass in the other. “drink up.” 

kageyama notices the melancholy in your eyes resurfacing as you lean back against your pillow on your side, hand outstretched towards the empty half of the queen-sized bed, but he wisely chooses to leave it be. 

you squeeze your eyes shut, turning on your side away from him. “good night, tobio. thanks for coming.”

“of course.” anything for you. kageyama tucks you under the blanket, fingers smoothing over the duvet, itching to run them through your hair. he curls his hand into a fist and shoves it in his pocket before his body betrays him. 

“happy belated birthday, kuroo-san.” he whispers into the darkness, leaving the full glass of water by your bed, and quietly closes the door behind him. he turns off all the lights in your apartment and washes up the other glass, fighting the strong urge to check on you when he hears a muffled whimper coming from your bedroom. 

you probably don’t want him to see you like that. 

he forces his feet out the front door. and a smile onto his face the next day when he sees you with puffy eyes and no memories of the night before. 

he really, really wishes he met you first. 

kageyama tobio curses the gods that put him on this trajectory. 

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon @hiraethwrote @thechaosoflonging @bakingcuriosity (open! askbox for taglist)

a/n. the pining, the heartache, the devotion; kageyama you will be loved </3 y'all i love him so MUCH i actually don't have the words to describe it... tobio brainrot all day every day <33 please expect slow updates!

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you! :}} ✏️

@unpopularartist14

I don't ever number my panels or strive for a specific number- the only limitation I keep in mind is keeping the comic under 30 canvases. But that's only because of Tumblr's stupid new image limit. Before that crapdate I would make a comic with as many canvases/panels as I wanted.

And idk what you mean by overwhelming- I put between 1-6 drawings on one canvas, it just depends on the comic and what i need from that scene :0

Also idk what a comic chapter is- and I don't believe myself to be the best with dialogue 😅 I just slap comics together and keep adjusting it until it feels right..

Sorry, I'm sure these were not helpful answers. I never claimed to be good at explaining how I do things. Plus I'm in a pretty bad headspace so I'm sure that's not helping me..😓

I'm self taught, so its hard to explain how I learned anything or to teach it to others- "I just.. do it." "I just change it until it feels right." "I just draw it. How?.. idk I just.. draw it..?"

I hope you can find another artist to help you. Unless the questions get very specific- I'm afraid I can offer no better answers. <:(

@ayliminum

Ngl, I have no idea when I'm gonna open it again. My server has gotten enough members that if it gets any bigger, I'm gonna need a mod to help me monitor it. But I don't have anyone I trust/feel comfortable enough/know well enough- to add as a mod. And considering how horrible my mental and physical health has been.. I haven't wanted to even deal with it anyways.

Right now my server is manageable at its size. So I just closed it off to new members and put "get a server mod/reopen the server" on the list of millions of things I need to do once I crawl out of this health deteriorating pit.💀

AWWWW!!! WORGI!! COLF!!💞💞

@h31fd3ad

No way XDDD

@cicutagreninja

For Bonnie, he is an animatronic designed to handle small groups at a time and have 1 on 1 interactions. But in the case where Freddy is decommissioned, he takes Freddy's place as the star. So he constantly has huge crowds swarming all around him..

As a result, Bonnie is basically constantly overwhelmed. And any second that he has to himself, he just goes completely stone faced and quiet. Kind of to mentally take a break and recharge from all the interactions..

As for Foxy, he always looks so solemn in that AU because his heart just aches for his friends.. He misses Chica and Freddy.. He can see how horrible Bonnie, Roxy and Monty are feeling.. he wishes he could help them all.. but there's nothing he can do...

@neo-metalscottic

AAAAAA Thank you! :DDD I wonder how long it'll take me to get to 30K.. 🤔

Also as for terraria- I haven't fought any of the bosses on my own and I'm sure I haven't seen all the biomes 💀 But so far I like the jungle biome and the wall of flesh is a cool concept :00

I'm glad to hear you've liked my Octonauts stuff! :)) As for what attacked Calico Jack, it was supposed to be a sea monster that could be mistaken for a gator :0

I also had no back story in mind for how he got the scar on his eye <:0 and idk if he'd be willing to share the story.. it depends on how he got it! <:/

Aww.. poor Emmet.. man. I am not looking forward to experiencing that myself.

@holly-opal

I've seen the movie trailer for it! Beyond that I know nothing about it <:0

@sussyhahag

Its more of a reverse egg yolk, but I see what you mean! XDD

@captain-skyler1987

My week has been rough.😔funny picture though XD

(Referencing this post)

WAHGG THANK YOU!! :DDD

Also thankfully no- if Wally ever got close to being that tired he'd sit down somewhere. Maybe even accidentally take a nap-

@pink088

Idk if its supposed to hurt after the initial piercing- make sure you're taking care of the holes! <:0

(Referencing this post)

AAAA YES ITS EXCITING AND A LITTLE STRESSFUL! XDD

@ask-observer-ron

@cat7890

I haven't been feeling well, my health it pretty bad.. but thank you! I'm glad to hear you like my artwork! :)))

@beryl-shade

I haven't seen it, is it good? :0 Perhaps I should watch 8-Bitryans video on it..🤔

@birodactyloftheblog

WAAHHGHGH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDD

Maybe someday! :00

@enbydemirainbowbigfoot

No need to apologize! I take it as a big compliment! Thank you! :)))

@wolfie-777

Aw! Cute wolf! :)

Ugh.. that's always such a shame to hear.. but hey thanks for telling me 👍

@antikittysocial

Aw,, that's so sad.. <:( poor Shellington..

@briandraws

My head is more of a liquid. If you took a hair dryer to it I'd go splat XDD

I imagine the mama Emboar got pregnant and then the father dipped. Just like real boar fathers do 💀

I've never heard of it.. is that a show about the Daycare attendant..? :0

I do not know what that is.. sorry! <:(

(Referencing this post)

<XD It was certainly a show. I should go back and watch the whole thing in order sometime-

[gleefultogo]

Ugh Excuse Me? (screenshots at bottom of post)

Alright so ladies and gentlemen. Turns out kique and his white-knights in fact stalking our tumblr posts. Can't say I'm surprised, but whatever. you guys have your opinions and we have ours. First of all we are just people would love to speak our opinions without being sidelined because you're a fragile as fuck 32 year old man? like man act your age. second of all, I for one do not make these posts to "bully" or anything. I am simply putting you on the spot for all the shit you have caused, even before home comic. everyone who read your comic asmundr saw how you'd treat your readers. Even paying ones! The public should know how you are to others. if they choose to support you or not. Thats fine, that's their choice. I do not control the other people here. you are not a good person then what you think you are, you treat others like shit unless they kissing your ass and giving you money. Look man, I don't give a care what you do or if you do art and comics. but most of us here were former fans that got tired of your bullshit when someone didn't agree with you. It's not that hard to understand, call us haters all you want. I for one have only put out stuff regarding your actions with linked proof. I never edited my shit or faked what I posted. unlike you who have a habit of editing your post to make yourself seem a victim and bullying someone else to make them look worse. how's that any better? we saw what you posted on a DA post about zirvasity and edited it. also my dude, wtf is this?

Never had I once claimed "sexual assault or abuse" about you towards another person, kindly correct yourself. in no way has that been said in any posts. About your weird and terrible take on rape yeah? But SA? nah man, I draw the line at that, unless you can show me legitimate proof. kindly correct yourself. That was never said about you. I have a limit. also disclaimer, but I have no idea who leaked your patreon shit. I know for a fact that wasn't me cause I respect the paywall and since thats how you make your income. you can beef it out with whoever did. Also no one made comments about your transgender either. I don't care. Thats a you thing, and if it makes you happy, cool I'm glad but that also a false claim. I'm not some homophobic person. I'm just some person talking about your comic and the many issues with it. Thats all, heck if you weren't so fragile you could learn from it also. Critique isn't a bad thing. You just refuse any help given to you for the better. You can bitch all you want for all I care and play victim, there's still proof out there about your behavior. learn to be a better person maybe and people wouldn't dislike you?.

Kique's post from instgram. edited to make him seem like he's innocent further. But my point still stands. P.S., If there are grammar errors, english is not my first language. But it should still get the point across.

[gotinterest]

Education in the Gaza Strip Under Bombardment

Eman (whose fundraiser I have been boosting for the past few months) and I message each other about once a week, and she's been telling me about how her family- like many others in the strip- are working hard to continue their young children's education despite the massive destruction of infrastructure by zionist forces.

There is no formal school. The buildings are ruined or used as shelters. Constant displacement makes the sort of organization needed to run formal classes with any kind of consistency an impossibility. Instead, the parents and teachers have to take things into their own hands.

Eman tells me that teachers- from both Gaza and Egypt- share resources through schooling groups online to help parents teach their children. Eman's two elementary school aged children, Taim and Tia, are currently getting educated through the exercises and lessons that the teachers have shared in these groups.

Eman, herself, is also helping out by acting as an English teacher for a small group of children that live close to her tent. She tells me that the kids are all very excited to learn and shared some pictures with me of a few of the children (including Tia) and their recent school work.

This is Tia with her two friends, Kareem and Malak

Tia and Kareem are the same age and are still very young and aren't quite ready to learn the alphabet yet. Instead, they are practicing drawing shapes and lines to get them used to writing with pencils.

Malak is a year older than them so she is learning some basic numbers and counting.

I wanted to share this with you all because I know that when we look at the news we see nothing but darkness from Palestine, and that makes it easy to feel as though the situation is hopeless.

The people of Gaza have not given up hope. They are still preparing for the future. They are still doing everything they can to not just survive, but truly live. There is still so much left to fight for. Protest. Share and donate to fundraisers. Speak about Palestine. Organize. The best treatment for that feeling of dread is action.

[Please consider donating to Eman's Fundraiser: Link]

[whisperingthings]

You know what's a hilarious thing that exists in hp canon is that whole plot where Harry sees James bullying Snape in the pensive, because I cannot fathom how this isn't a Drarry set up ??

We see that James was a bully, that a lot of what he did was just to show off in front of Lily, and that he couldn't stop behaving like an annoying twat in front of her bc he was obsessed with her (remind you of anyone??).

You see Harry trying to find any rationalisation he can for why his father would have acted that way, bc to his mind, if he didn't have an excuse for what he did, it's unforgivable. But then he talks with Sirius and learns that he's got the entirely wrong mindset about it all and that not only can he not rationalise it but he doesn’t need to. He instead has to have empathy and understand that people grow and change, and that being an arsehole and a bully at one point in your life doesn't change the fact that you have the ability to grow and change as a person and might become a loving partner and friend.

Like I'm sorry what the fuck else is this plot point for if not to suggest the potential of drarry? Like ooh look these two people who were wonderfully loving adults were actually kinda shitty as teenagers and that's fine because people are just shitty as teenagers and that doesn't mean they can't get past it and grow to love one another. ??? WHAT OTHER PARALLEL ARE WE MEANT TO DRAW HERE???

[peacheeeliz]

003. they're not soundproof (wc: 1046)

Mark sits at the end of the study table, arms crossed as he takes slow breaths. When he left the room, only you and Allen had occupied the table. But once he returned, four of your classmates had joined his little ‘study group.’ Everyone was off in their own little conversations, but you couldn't help but send him a small smile. His blood would boil if it were any other person there, but the sight of that sly smile that played on your lips just left his heart pounding.

“Sorry, my brother and Jungwoo said they wanted to join,” you whisper to him, pointing at the two that sat on the opposite side of the table: Jiwoong Kim and Nicha Yontararak, or Minnie. Two upperclassmen that were friends with your brother and Jungwoo and also a part of your Japanese class. You stared at the two on either side of them, “those two, I don't really know why they're here. I thought you said they couldn't make it?”

‘Those two’ were Mark's friends, Donghyuck and Julie, who sheepishly smiled at him as they conversed with their classmates. “Well, that's what they told me,” he tells you, huffing.

Julie, closest to the two of you, leans over to butt in. “We had something come up with our other plans,” she starts, shrugging before she mouths a quick ‘sorry’ towards Mark.

Before Mark can respond, Jiwoong starts on the other side of the table. “I'm so glad somebody started a study group,” he says, smiling softly. “I was starting to go a little crazy because of Mr. Suh's lessons, and we're only one week in.”

“Oh my Gosh, same,” Minnie continues, hands falling down on the table. She sends a sorrowful look your way, “your Japanese is literally so good already, girl. How do you do it?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head at her words. “Oh, it's nothing, come on,” you draw out.

Allen, who had now moved to the chair on the other side of you, threw his arm over your shoulder with a bright smile. “Y/Nie here is a multilingual genius. I genuinely think she has a superpower to learn any language she wants just like that,” he snaps his fingers to emphasize the word ‘that.’ “She's amazing.”

“Stop it,” you say sheepishly, swatting his arm away. “I want to learn just like you guys, I've just got a few languages down, so it's easier to learn others.”

“I agree with Allen,” Mark starts, smiling sweetly at you. “It's really amazing.”

Your eyes don't stay on him long, as Hyuck's loud voice calls you back to the group. “Well, then, you will just be a great help for our study group then, won't you?” He asks you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glances back and forth between you and Mark. “Mark is just terrible at learning new languages, so he might need a lot of help.”

“Haha, shut up, man,” Mark laughs, though his eyes stare daggers towards his friend.

“Well, I think this is going to be fun,” Allen exclaims, tapping the table excitedly. “I've never been in a study group before.”

“Actually, uh, before we start,” Mark interrupts, eyeing Hyuck again. “Can we talk real quick, outside?”

Despite his previous cheeky mood, Hyuck tenses up at Mark's gaze. He nods quickly, following his friend out into the hall. But of course, he doesn't forget to send you a friendly wave before the door shuts behind him.

“What the hell, man?” Mark starts instantly, huffing as he crosses his arms once again. “This was supposed to be just me and her. What the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck are any of you doing here?”

“Listen, Y/N invited everyone but me and Julie, alright?” Hyuck rebuts, scoffing. “And Allen only invited us because he had no idea we were ‘supposed’ to be a part of your little study group.”

Mark rolls his eyes, letting out a pained laugh. “Listen, roll your eyes all you want,” Hyuck continues, jabbing his friend in the chest. “I can try to help you out as much as you want, but forget studying alone with her. This study group's happening. If I have to study, so do you, sweetheart.”

The sound of the door opening brings their attention away from each other, and their eyes fall on you. You peaked your head around the door, “hey.” You said softly. “Just wanted to let you guys know that these windows, y'know the windows that completely surround the study room. They're not soundproof.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Mark starts, following you back into the room with Hyuck. “I'm sorry, really.”

“What, sorry that your plan got ruined?” You ask, sitting back down at the table. Your classmates stayed silent, watching the scene play out in front of them. “Or sorry that I heard how disappointed you were in the plan not working out?”

He watched as you prepared your books for studying, ready to completely ignore him if absolutely necessary. “Obviously the latter, come on,” he tells you, eyes too focused on you to notice that Hyuck returns to his seat. “I really want to study with you, genuinely.”

You stare up at him with a blank stare, “drop the act. I'm not falling for it,” you reply, returning to your notes. “If you don't want to study with us, then fine. You know where the door is.”

“Y/N,” he says, but all he gets in reply is you pointing at the door in silence. He looks to Julie and Hyuck for help, but their eyes are glued to their textbooks. His eyes graze over the others, who awkwardly avoid his gaze by looking at each other or their notes. “Fine, I'll leave.”

He begins to pack his things back up in silence, though his eyes keep wandering back to you. To see if you'd look back at him. To see if you'd tell him to stop, just sit down and join them. But you never do. Your eyes stay on your textbook, never leaving to meet his.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he throws his backpack over his shoulder. Without saying another word, he exits the study room and doesn't turn back.

synopsis ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?

a/n: i'm imagining their seating arrangement to actually be like it is in community 😭😭 so like mark in jeff's spot, y/n = britta, allen = abed, hyuck = troy, jiwoong = pierce, minnie = shirley, and julie = annie. i hope that all makes sense !

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[butterfwiesndinorawrs]

🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰

Hi everybunny! Guess who's hopping back into town. My name is Bo and I have a passion to help others grow! My friend Ms. Spark has the same passion to help but with her own spark and flare of art. Our human Misky has studied holistic healing and art/play therapy techniques for years and we've picked up a thing or two here and there. This is our opportunity to share what we've learned along our trails.

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Happy Drawings:

This one is super simple. Just draw something that makes you happy. It can be anything, your favorite food or toy, your happy place or a person that makes you happy. Let your imagination run wild and don't overthink it. What makes you light up when you think about it, now draw it. You don't have to be skilled at drawing it can even be a scribble to represent it. As long as it makes you happy! That's the whole point of this activity, just have fun.

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Examples:

Bo Bunny drew a carrot, of course! He's a bit obsessed hehe. He also drew a sun cause sunshine makes him happy! 🥕

Ms. Spark drew a paint palette because she loves art and she also drew sparkles because she loves everything sparkling and glittery! ✨️

Misky painted a mermaid cause well I think we all know Misky loves mermaids! 🥰🧜‍♀️

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Final Thoughts:

What makes you happy will be different to everybunny, whatever you choose to draw is absolutely okay! Don't stress out over how it may look, you don't ever have to show it to anyone if you don't want to. The whole point is to have fun and relax while focusing on something that brings you happiness. If you've done that you've done this activity perfectly! If you are open to sharing and showing your drawing we would love to see and hear about it! You can reblog and add your drawing, make your own post and tag this blog or you can submit to this blog if you'd like. Until next time be kind to yourself, be patient with yourself and show yourself lots and lots of love, you deserve it!

-Bo Bunny & Ms. Spark 💙🐰🧡

[rotthepoet]

Gaslight Lamp Post(Toxic!Theodore Nott x Reader)

A cutie little mini-mini fic I wrote instead of partaking in a lecture. 

Warnings; Toxic man behavior, Cheating

Iridescent water splashes beneath my feet, ruining the shoes that he had only recently gifted me. He calls after me, recklessly crossing the traffic-clogged road, weaving through cars and cabs as he chases me. I ignore it, I have to, I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t let him keep doing this to me. An alligator tear falls from the heavy, dark clouds looming low over the city skyline, catching the bridge of my nose. Fuck. Of course it would rain, because God has a flair for dramatics, obviously. His sick laugh roared across flashing clouds, and rain fell harder upon the sidewalk and I. Regardless of my now ruined hair, clothes, mood, and especially shoes, I trudge down the road toward downtown, the buildings growing older with age at each step. 

I emerge onto a street I’m not familiar with, the rain still pouring down as the flames of lamp posts flicker inside the safety of their prisons. They cast a soft glow upon my skin, soaked to the bone and cold, and I watch my fist clench and unclench as I hear his smooth voice approaching.

“Baby, Baby please. I can explain,” Theodore gasps out, taking a moment to catch his breath as he stops in front of me. “Just give me a chance–”

“Another chance, Theodore? Another one? After the last chance? The one before that? How many chances do you need before you learn, Theodore?”

He approaches me, reaching his shaking hands towards me, but I step away. “I know it looks bad,” He starts, “You just walked in at the wrong time, she came onto me!” I can only roll my eyes at his old excuses, aged unpleasantly much like the collapsing, decrepit buildings lining the streets. 

“Didn’t seem like you were trying to push her away, did it?”

Theodore runs a hand over his face, and he groans in frustration. “Bella, please, you have to believe me. I don’t want her, I don’t want anyone but you,” his sweet words ring in my ears, and tears well up in the corners of my eyes, falling down my cheeks with the rain. “I need you, Bella, only you,” Theodore dropped to his knees despite my scoff, “All I've ever needed was you. It’s always been you, principessa.”

His honey-coated words draw me in, their sweet sounds lingering in my ears like a pleasant chime, he’s always been so good with his tongue. My resolve crumbles, and internally I chastise myself for the choice I’m choosing. 

“One more time. One more chance, Theo,” My voice wavers with uncertainty, and Theo’s strong arms wrap around me instantly, “But I can’t do this anymore. This needs to change or it’s over, for real.”

“I understand, Bella, I’m changing. I am.”

Sometimes words are repeated enough that they don’t even sound like words anymore.

[thefriendlyferretwriter]

Weasel

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!F!Reader

Summary: A back and forth with the infamous Fred Weasley sends the two nemeses into a back-and-forth that lands them in detention, where both their frustration and anger send them into a deep argument full of insults, tension, and revelations.

Warning: LONG, 8k words, lots of scene cuts becuz a LOT happens, rivals to lovers (not really, Fred's obsessed with reader and is a little shit), boy pulls on the pigtails of the girl he claims he dislike type trope, was forced to give reader at least a last name, same for her best friend ( went with one of the most generic name Tiffany), Fred being a little shit, argument, tension, reader is unhinged

A/N: Fun fact about this fic it almost included a Pygmy Puff before I checked and discovered that they were created by the twins for their shop and since they are still students I had to go and swap it up with a baby puffskein. No idea how to describe that fic, there will definitely be multiple parts, enjoy!

There are no other places like Hogwarts.

The scenery, the castle's secrets, and the yearly competition between houses are something to behold.

But what might be icing on the cake is the library. The place where I can lose track of time all the while learning about the magical world.

The library has a hush rule but you can't help the coughs, the few ink pots falling to the ground, or even the giggles here and there but it doesn't bother me one bit, it even helps me focus as I enjoy yet one more day in the castle.

"Hi there Raven."

And there goes my enjoyment.

With a roll of my eye, I direct them toward the annoying voice belonging to none other than Fred Weasley who stands there with his satchel on his side leaning against one of the book-filled shelves.

"Weasel," I acknowledge him with a sigh looking back down at my page.

"Weasley," he corrects drily.

I brush him off as I finish my inked sentence and wait for it to dry before turning the page and asking him what he's doing here.

He leans on the table by his hip and crosses his arms inclining his head towards me, "What is it to you?"

"You being here is a bad omen so either you're here to sell your stupid stuff to the first years," I say glancing at his sachel for a second before looking back down at my work, "Or it involves annoying me and I'm having a good day to waste it dealing with you today."

I don't look at him and instead focus on my next sentence when I hear some shuffling and a piece of rolled-up parchment drops next to me that I recognize all too well.

"You must be kidding me," I groan snatching the parchment from the table.

"Unfortunately no. McGonagall benched me and said that if I wanted to stay on the quidditch team I needed a tutor."

His speech makes me groan as the lines reiterate his rant in a distinguished manner and is signed at the bottom by Professor Flitwick.

"McGonagall sent me to Flitwick who recommended you. Said you needed tutoring on your record."

I let go of the paper and join my hands together placing my thumbs on the base of my nose to try and diminish the incoming headache.

"Soo," he draws out attracting my gaze, "See you later, I'll be waiting for your owl."

I see him walking backward, all cocky as he dares to wink at me before turning around and descending the spiral stairs.

I audibly scoff and slam my notebook closed.

Yet another day ruined by that damn Weasel.

"He's a pest."

"You're exaggerating again," she laughs at me standing up from her seat.

"No, I'm not!" I say shoving the last book in my bag as class just ended, "He's obnoxious and annoying and a nuisance to my peace," I stand up and follow right after her.

It's been a few days since my unfortunate meeting with the least likable Weasley in the library and the meeting with Professor Flitwick and McGonagall this early morning couldn't have gotten any worse since no amount of pleading on my part could get them not to assign me with him. As a supplement I had the redhead walk in on me pleading which had him reveling at my misery digging me into a deeper foul mood.

"He's a funny guy that sometimes goes too far," she says pushing a chair that wasn't tucked under its assigned table.

"He's the bane of my existence," I say full of venom.

She laughs walking toward the classroom's exit," That's romantic."

"No, saying someone is the bane of your existence isn't romantic."

"I'm sure you could turn it into something romantic, like a poem or a book about forbidden love," she daydream walking through the door.

"You read too many romance books," I say stepping outside the classroom when I freeze and feel like I'm going underwater as my body is iced out for a moment.

It feels as if I've been hit with glacius but I'm able to use my voice and squeal in shock as the feeling subsides and I'm brought back from my shock by two giggles.

I see two first-year Gryffindors laughing nervously before they simultaneously decide to run away, one of them letting loose on her wand that was levitating the bucket letting it fall on the ground with a loud clash.

I'm left in the middle of the open hallway surrounded by classmates who just exited their class.

The wind hits me and I feel my body shiver before I look up at my friend whose mouth is covered by her hands in surprise.

I hear it.

The annoying infuriating sound of distant laughter, one I cannot mistake for another.

My eyes zero on him sitting on the transfiguration courtyard's tree clutching his stomach as he laughs balancing himself on the branch.

"You were saying?" I ask her rhetorically still dripping in the pink-colored jelly-like liquid.

She lowers her hands and approaches me slowly trying to wipe my face.

I feel the bubbling of rage making its way up my throat with my breathing taking up seeing him seated up there on the branch looking like a king sitting upon the throne of his buffoonery surrounded by his brainless friends, or rather, George's brainless friends and it makes me snap.

I push her hand away and stomp my way through the hallway onto the courtyard's grass toward him.

"Weasley!" I yell as I march to him.

"Oh, now she remembers my name," he laughs out loud for his twin and his friends to hear as the number of students stopping by increases.

He slides off the branch with ease and starts strutting to me with this damn cocky smile.

George stands up from his leaning stance on the tree, "Fred," he says.

I don't know if it's a warning or a scolding but his intent doesn't matter to me.

My hearing is replaced with the beats of my heart drumming in my ears as my face feels as hot as lava.

My steps get bigger and bigger and the closer his infuriating smirk approaches, the rage escapes me as my hand swings back and closes into a fist before landing in his face mid-step.

The audible hit is met with a groan and while I'm far too small to send him to the ground with a punch it does send him swaying back and hunching over.

In a second George jogs to his twin and hands him support grabbing his elbow as Fred's groan turns into another one of his annoying chuckles.

"You see how she hit me?!" he shouts looking delighted by the situation before he lays his gaze back on me with a bit of blood on his teeth.

His smirk falls and I believe for a moment that I finally did it, I finally managed to instate fear in this jackass before I realize his gaze moved from my frame to someone behind me.

The buzzing in my ears ceases and my hearing comes back to me as the grass crunches under one's weight indicating someone approaching.

A cold sweat travels through my body when I turn around and spot none other than Professor Hooch standing tall in front of us.

By instinct, I take a step back and bump into Fred before jumping aside as if he burnt me which isn't far off as my knuckles are calling out for help burning and tingling from the impact it had on his cheek.

She sends us both one of her infamous hawk looks that could petrify Dumbledor himself, "I presume that display of violence can be explained by your appearance?" her pointed look is directed at me.

I try to wipe the substance off my hair with an annoyed huff.

Her eyes travel to Fred whose head is pointed down grabbing his chin and messing with his mouth moving his jaw from side to side.

"That rewards the both of you with an hour's detention," that answer makes him groan and I point at him with outrage.

"But he-!" My disbelief doesn't reach her before she cuts me off.

"You're both dismissed. Mr.Weasley, I advise you to escort your brother to the infirmary to tend to his injury. As for you, I advise you to go clean yourself up before heading to the infirmary as well, perhaps at a time Mr.Weasley won't be there," she finishes her sentence looking at George who acknowledges her insinuation with a nod.

Still clutching his jaw, Fred is led away by his elbow by George as Hooch walks to stand in front of me, "While I understand your frustration I did expect better from you than violence."

My eyes widen and the breath I take in is cut off, "He-"

"This isn't about Mr.Weasley's childish behavior, he will receive his punishment either way. What disappoints me is that you could've avoided any punishment by reporting this to me or any other professor in the area but instead, you will ecope of an hour's detention as well."

She says shaking her head as she walks away leaving me standing here in the courtyard covered in the substance and an aching fist that doesn't even feel satisfying knowing it didn't teach the jerk anything.

"Why is it so windy today?! I thought it was supposed to be sunny!" I complain trying to be louder than the wind.

"No it's supposed to switch all day, look," my friend says motioning to the daily prophet in her hands bringing the paper closer to my face so I can see the weather section indeed announcing an insufferable change of weather all day.

"You can still spot the puddles from the rain earlier," Luna Lovegood points to the Quidditch pitch where the grass is still two shades darker and the random puddles of water stir with strength from the wind blowing.

My venting is interrupted by a loud collision that sends me twisting around back to the pitch to see Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teammates fighting over the quaffle like rabid dogs in what is supposed to be an amicable match as a form of training.

"Remind me again what's the point of an amicable match if there is no amicability?" I ask turning to face them just to miss the apparent goal from a Gryffindor through one of the Ravenclaw's lowest hoops.

I groan when I recognize the face of the person who managed to pass our defenses as he basks in the small victory.

"What is it raven?! Can't take in the sigh of greatness?!" he gloats seated comfortably on his broom with his red hair all tussled.

His pretentiousness blinds him and his arrogance leaves him to ignore the whistle suggesting the match continues and leaves a fellow Ravenclaw to score in a flash right behind him. The only indicator that anything happened at all is the small thunder of applause and shouts of approval coming from the small gathering of students who decided to kill time and participate in the amicable match to cheer each team on.

His head whips around and the sight of the opposite team scoring sends him tilting his head back with a groan that he tries to conceal but it doesn't escape anyone's notice.

The karma is enough but it is so rare to catch the weasel in one of his life life-learning moments that I don't hesitate before deciding that I need to add my little grain of salt to the wound.

I have it, I have the perfect response to give him right on the tip of my tongue and I wonder for a second if the smirk grazing my lips isn't a giveaway but my witty taunt is stopped when a broom enters my line of vision.

"See?! I told you your presence would do me good. Look at that, bullseye!"

I'm sure he means no harm, I know him to be humble but the poor lad either didn't see Weasley or simply decided to ignore his presence.

The fact that he is being ignored after being wrecked is sickly satisfying and my smirk manages to widen somehow.

It is clear he simply didn't see Fred as this one's scowl sends him silently flying away in an awkward, one-sided staredown that ends with him glancing at me with an uncomfortable wide-eyed stare, silently asking for help.

I stare at him flying further and further away and only look back when I notice George approaching his twin on his broom.

His frustration is clear and the eye roll along with his head thrown back pleases me a great deal.

The devilish idea is too good and it doesn't take a lot of self-convincing before I fall for temptation.

"What is it Weasel, too busy drowning in your own ego you can't pay attention?!" I shout so my sickly honeyed voice reaches him and George as I tuck my now pastel pink hair behind my ears.

'The concoction should last less than a week. This Flemont Potter was a genius!' nurse Pomfrey said.

The scowl adorning his face fills me with warmth and electricity buzzes through my veins knowing I have the last word for once.

"Nice hair," he tries himself at a desperate dig that does not work as Professor Hooch whistles for him to fly back to the match.

Turning his back to me, he flies back to the center of the field I can't help but laugh realizing that it's the first time he turns his back to me without walking away with the last word.

The whistle is blown and the speed at which each team goes at the other's throat could cause whiplash if one wasn't used to it.

I'm focused on a group of players when my peripheral vision drags my eyes to my friend throwing the quaffle with all his strength leaving another small group of three players to speed away.

Taking a moment to take in his throw he looks back down and waves at me with a smile, satisfied with his play.

I wave back with a grin of my own before he disappears out of my sight as a bludger hits him straight in the back of the head with a resounding thunk throwing him off his broom and crashing to the ground.

I hear a loud yell and realize it comes from me as my body instinctively reacts and bolts toward the pitch.

Professor Hooch is already by his side by the time I run to his limp self.

"Is he okay?!" I get caught off guard by my friend reaching him and kneeling at his side before I do.

I stand there looking down at him in shock as people start surrounding the area trying to take a look at the wounded on the ground when I notice the Gryffindor team lowering themselves on the ground including the culprit.

His quidditch robe swings with each one of his steps as he walks towards the commotion very slowly like in a trance.

"You too bring a stretcher," she says shooing away both a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw player.

I hear George Weasley calling after his brother who has now reached Professor Hooch kneeling on the ground

"Is he okay?"

How dare he. His filthy meek voice asking about his well-being as if he isn't the reason my friend is lying unresponsive on the ground.

That familiar boiling sensation in my chest rises again and I feel my fists clenching by themselves.

Before I can comprehend my thought process I am bolting toward him. Still, before I can reach him George jumps in front of him getting ready for whatever, a whatever that does not come as I am held up by the waist by two Gryffindor players sensing the hostility.

"What is wrong with you!" I holler up in the air struggling with all my might against the hold of the chasers which is useless against the player's strength.

The rest is a blur, George pushes the douche towards the locker room as I follow the stretcher closely to the infirmary.

"If you stare any harder you're gonna be the first third year student here to achieve wandless magic," she chuckles "It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. back down at her textbook.

"False," I utter not leaving the weasel out of my burning stare.

I notice her raising her head from my side view in wonder.

"Granger," I state chewing on my thumb's fingernail.

The sight of him simply sitting there without any consequences under the excuse of 'it's part of the game, nobody can prove there were any malicious intents behind that strike' drives me mad and haunts my head with multiple scenarios of murder that keep replaying again and again.

"You have to let it go. Pomfresh said he'll be fine."

"He didn't deserve that strike it was targeted to piss me off because I got the last word," I say wincing when I realize I bit my thumb a bit too hard and drew some blood.

"It's part of Quidditch, many, many people took strikes to the head."

"Bullshit. A strike to the head during an amicable match? Come on," I roll my eyes frustrated that everybody seems so eager to just brush this incident off.

"I'm gonna start thinking you're checking him out and not actually glaring at him."

"Have you lost your mind?!" I say louder than intended, my head whipping left to glare at her this time.

There is no silence as the Care for the Magical Creature class takes place outside and the lack of chatter is covered up by the sound of wind rustling the nearest tree's leaves and the distant purrs and grumbles of the different creatures in their pen.

"Is there a problem?"

Unlike McGonagall or Snape, Professor Hagrid's tone of voice isn't accusatory but genuinely one of concern. This concern eats at me as the idea that he might believe even for a moment that my words are targeted towards him makes bile rise in my throat.

"No!" is my immediate response to reassure the professor but the rest of my explanation seems to be stuck in my throat as I have a hard time imagining myself explaining to the class that I was just defending myself at the mention of me hypothetically checking Weasley out.

That same person here in the open classroom with a side smirk plastered on his annoying face trying his best not to laugh at me, not because it would be rude but because not laughing at the right time alongside the rest of the class wouldn't be as satisfying as a full-on public humiliation.

I see Hagrid lowering his chalk and I can already foresight him asking what he might have done wrong which is not something you want to ask as a teacher in front of a bunch of ruthless teenagers.

His other hand joins in on the other starting to mess with his chalk making him appear anxious and way less mighty.

The awkwardness doesn't begin to measure to the remorse of having put him in this situation because of my impulsive nature.

"It's my fault!" my friend shouts in my defense.

Looking at her, Tiffany managed to snatch up a baby puffskein and hold it up to Hagrid's sight.

"I put him in her hair and she was afraid he would do a pooh."

The laughs are inevitable but I'm certain the 'do a pooh' will haunt my nightmare.

The mocking is a harmony of taunting and I can only look beside me to glare at her sitting there with the puffskein in hand as I wish he would just 'do a pooh' in her hands this instant.

At least Professor Hagrid seems reassured, smiles as the misunderstanding is cleared up, and turns back around to continue the lesson.

We're sent to different enclosures containing different creatures and are instructed to feed them to create a bond.

"Look at him acting casual as if he didn't send someone to the infirmary with a trauma to the head," I say full of venom seeing him being buddy-buddy with another Gryffindor girl as they try to feed Mooncalf in the open and have a laugh as they are surrounded by the eager herd starving for pets and seeds.

"Will you quit it and enjoy one of the only course that's relaxing here," she scolds kneeling closer to the ground to feed a diricawl who nibs at her finger affectionately before walking past her hand and pitter-pattering to her to lay his head on her chest to receive pats on his head.

"Plus you've already been told we can't know if the blow was on purpose."

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it, he's one of the best beaters here," I say with a pointed look at her throwing a violent handful of seeds towards the rest of the diricawls.

"Did I just hear you compliment Fred Weasley?" she says looking up at me with a teasing smile.

"It's not a compliment I'm just stating a fact, the probability of Weasley hitting someone right on the head by accident at such distance is close to none," I say throwing another handful as my eyes catch a paddock with dubogs in it, one in particular who is devouring the weasel with his bulgy eyes.

There are three dubogs in the small paddock and two of them are cooling off in the dirty pond uninterested in anything else but sunbathing with only their eyes above the murky water blinking one at a time as the third one is eating up Weasley with his eyes.

A devilish idea makes its way into my head. The opening I get is served to me on a gold platter as Tiffany is distracted by the herd of diricawl overtaking her landing her on the ground, surrounded.

My chance is heightened by Weasley's back turned to me talking with his little girlfriend.

I take my chance disregarding any rational thought invading my head. Sneakily climbing over the fence, I crouch and walk toward the desired enclosure. The creature doesn't seem to sense me approaching and if he does he doesn't seem to care one bit licking his eye and pawing the ground with his hind leg.

A part of me wishes I could egg him on and ask him if he wants to nibble on the Weasel's ankles but I'd rather not throw my plan out of the window. Instead, I carefully slide my arm to the latch and pull on it slowly to make sure not to make any noise before giving the door a small push to create the crack that seems to be enough to throw the creature out for a jog as he crashes against the paddock's door.

I don't get to see the seconds before the disaster as I have to hurry back and jump over the fence once again, running back to my friend and free her from the diricawl's clutches giving her a hand and raising her back up as the show starts.

The screams that grace my ears aren't from fear but more from shock as the tall redhead lands on the ground when I finally get to lay my eyes on him. The dubog licks him from bottom to top with the creature's natural dirt and slimey skin rubbing off on him as his Gryffindor girlfriend screeches for help calling for Professor Hagrid who runs up to help in a flash.

The man's height isn't only impressive and intimidating but also a great advantage to grab the massive creature off and drag it back to its enclosure where the other two are still sunk in the water, sunbathing and behaving.

Once shut close, Professor Hagrid grips the wooden bars of the enclosure to gather himself before turning around and helping Weasley up with just one hand gripping the back of his blouse. While he seems shaken up by the encounter, he tries to rub off some of the mud on his face but only manages to smear it looking around at the rest of us.

The reactions vary, some are as shocked as he is and others shrug off their worries and are now laughing at his appearance now that they've established that he is healthy and no longer in danger.

I myself giggle knowing that while I can't get him punished for his action back on the pitch, I get to watch him look like a fool and even up the score. My friend does not agree and lets me know by elbowing me in the ribs making me groan mixing laughter and painful grunts.

Laughter that is spotted by the redhead when his head whips to me before his eyes light up.

His eyes shift from eureka to burning hatred. Shrugging off the hand of his friend trying to tidy him up and storms in my direction.

"It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. The confrontation is cut short when Hagrid once again showcases his immeasurable strength by yanking the weasel back with a tug on his now mostly white blouse and throwing him behind his eleven-foot frame that stands now right in front of me.

"Enough with the both of you!" his voice booms in the open area.

He takes a step back and I can get a peak at the redhead enough to see him huffing and puffing from being thrown around like a doll.

"This is a classroom, not a pub. Now the both of you will walk all the way up to Professor McGonagall's office and explain exactly why I had to send the both of you to her and she will be the one to give you your punishment!"

I look at him now, hair disheveled and his tie undone covered in dirt and mud and slime. He still looks somewhat decent as he pushes his hair back with a huff.

I must look just as messy with my pink hair having been thrown on the ground and I decide to tug at the end of my own blouse trying to tidy myself up and avoid any more wrinkles on it.

"Miss Granger, please accompany those two, you know what to do if they misbehave."

"She tried to kill me!" Fred yells pointing at me.

"Do you have any proof, Mr.Weasley?"

He seems to hesitate for less than a second before motioning to me with his hand in frustration.

"It's logical thinking, she hates my gut and she's crazy!"

"You jerk-!" I bellow throwing myself in his direction before I'm engulfed in the Professor's arms.

"Enough!" He yells once more letting me go only when I stop fidgeting in his hold.

"There is no way of proving the Miss did anything. This paddock's lock has been faulty for a while and after this incident, I will personally see that it is dealt with."

He says as if he was addressing the whole class who is still standing all around us watching the event unfold.

"As for the both of you, you will do as you're told and let Miss.Granger accompany the both of you back to the castle and receive the punishment the both of you deserve for the waste of both my time and your classmates' time."

The tone is harsh and the decision is final.

"I am very disappointed in the both of you. You're worth so much more than this petty rivalry," the man shakes his head walking away.

Those words seem to have the same result on both of us. We look down a bit ashamed before we are ushered away by Hermione as we start the long and silent journey back to the castle.

We both stand in silence, side by side with yet a respectable distance as the two professors stand in front of us with judgmental stares that don't need any words to transcribe their distaste…or is it disappointment?

We were sent to our respective bathrooms to clean up 'as best as you can' while my request to wash off completely was denied by both teachers and so here I stand with the back of my blouse tainted by dirt as Weasley could barely wash the slimy texture out of his own blouse and barely dry it with what I believe might have been a spell.

And so here he stands looking dirtier than me despite the order to clean up.

"Now that the awful stench has been managed I believe a proper punishment is in order," McGonagall says with her hands joined in front of her.

"I agree, my cauldrons are in dire need of a scrub," Snape says with his usual disinterested tone.

Weasley starts protesting and claims that I should receive a harsher punishment for my so-called actions.

"She tried to kill me!" he protests.

"And as I told you Mr.Weasley there is no way for us to possibly prove this claim as Professor Hagrid did not see any of this unravel."

"Just like no one saw you throw that bulger." I bite under my breath.

"Exactly Miss.Hermlock. And I would suggest you speak with your full chest if you have any objection." Mc.Gonagall drily berates me.

"Snape-Professor Snape," he quickly corrects himself, "said multiple times that in such cases veritaserum should be used, and since she's SO confident saying she didn't do anything she won't mind doing this, won't she," he says towering over my side.

"I've always known you were a moron but I never thought you would outdo yourself in front of teachers," I smirk crossing my arms.

"Mr.Weasley, even with Miss.Hermlock's permission, the usage of such beverage on a student is forbidden. I would've hoped that with a father working for the ministry, you out of all of us would remember that."

My smirk doubles in size which I thought would never be possible.

In the end, my smirk is wiped away when we are both awarded two hours of detention with Snape. And as if it wasn't enough the punishment is cleaning the endless potion class's cauldrons.

We're ordered to go clean up, thoroughly this time and go for lunch before being expected in the dungeons for our detention hours.

We arrive at the same time just as the last student exits the class, we are left standing side by side, or more precisely 3 feet away from each other as we walk in right in front of Snape's office where he is seated with his head down to his paper purposely stalling and letting us stand there in awkward silence.

What must've been minutes feel like hours as I try my best not to side-eye the redhead standing silently beside me.

I wonder if I should've refrained from opening that damn pen when I hear those continuous scraping of pen meant to insult us as the dark-haired teacher ignore our presence.

He finally puts his feather back in its inkwell before he stands resting both his hands on his desk, "I believe I don't have to remind you what you need to do during those two hours of detention."

Neither of us answers and that seems to egg him on to stand straight and walk around his desk to stand right in front of us, his hands placed behind him.

"You two will clean every single cauldron here, I made sure none of my classes cleaned their equipment to make sure the lesson will stick and you won't have to keep me company again on such a fine day," he says bending to my height and looking straight into my eyes for just a moment before moving his sight onto Weasley, "At least one of you will learn."

Standing back up his speech is interrupted by strong stomps getting closer.

Turning around, the three of us look towards the class's entrance as we spot for a single second a figure sliding across the entrance and disappearing with a loud thud that sounds painful.

It is the first time I make eye contact with the weasel since the last time we butted heads and it is to share a sour scrunched-up expression for the victim of the fall who we hear grunting in the hallway before the sound of their footsteps echoes once more and we see the face of the one who rushed here most likely to speak to Snape.

He's bent over leaning on the door out of breath.

"Berkshire, if you're done fooling around you may grace us with an explanation as to why you're disturbing this detention."

Still out of breath, Enzo Berkshire huffs and puffs for a few more seconds before settling down still bent over.

"It's Nott," he exhales deeply before breathing in once more, "He and Wood started a brawl between quidditch teams, Hooch told me to come get you."

Turning back to the teacher, his eye roll is noticeable and his silence is an obvious assessment of the situation as he probably is planning what to do now that he is torn between us two and the alleged brawl.

"Alright, As the head teacher of house Slytherin, I will accompany Berkshire and assist Professor Hooch in this conflict."

He points to us, "As for the two of you. You will stay here and complete your detention without any complaints. If you leave before your time is up, I will know and that will reward you an entire week of detention."

Pointing at Berkshire, Snape walks past us and orders him to lead them away and with a flick of his wand makes it known that it is thanks to that maneuver that he'll know of us potentially leaving the classroom.

"Behave." is all he says before walking right behind a speeding Enzo Berkshire.

I wonder if he was referring to the both of us or maybe just Weasley.

I don't get to ponder on that before my thoughts are drawn elsewhere at the realization that my worst nightmare is unfolding before me, I am now stuck with the most insufferable student here for two hours doing the most aggravating task besides cleaning the house bathrooms.

I only get back to reality when I hear him throw his robe and satchel on a nearby station.

Being left alone with him, the task at hand, and the absence of Snape to muzzle the redhead angers me as I frop my own bag and stomp to one of the sinks filled to the brim with dirty cauldrons.

I don't even get to enjoy a full minute of tense peace as the douchebag starts his usual yapping.

"Can't say I'm surprised he would leave me alone with you, Snape has always hated me and it's no wonder he left me with you considering you tried to kill me," he mouths off as always lifting a cauldron from its stove and piling it on top of another one.

"And yet you're still breathing, what a shame." I roll my eyes as well as my sleeves picking up a scraper.

A moment of silence passes and I pray this is the moment he realizes he needs to shut up so we can endure the rest of this detention in mild peace but alas this is a good idea and everyone knows that Frederick Weasley never had one of those in his life.

"Damn. The sorting hat must've made a mistake, maybe you belong with the other psychopaths in Slytherin." He throws both cauldrons beside the filled sink with a loud clang.

"I'm sorry but I'm not the one cladding the scales." I bite back.

"Oh, she has claws," he draws out loudly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask genuinely turning around to face him.

"No, the question is what is wrong with you," He asks back louder.

"Nothing is wrong with me! You're the one who can't figure out when to stop, you're the one who always goes too far and you're the one who went too far once again, so much so that you ended up sending my friend to the infirmary!" I hurl and see him losing that fire that usually overtakes his pupils showing he enjoys egging on people once they are set off.

"It's the risk when you play Quidditch," he tries and fails to sound firm in his statement making me scoff.

"For Rowena's sake, you're still acting as if you didn't purposely throw that bulger at him!" I say running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"I didn't!" he says even less believable.

Done with his excuses I turn back around to give all my attention back to the dirty cauldrons when he manages to slide between me and the sink making me take a huge step back.

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

I stare at him, no, I glare at him feeling the urge to punch him again but I remember that it didn't do anything for me the last time and instead opt to let out my frustration by hollering at him and walking away before I make the mistake of punching him and have a Professor magically appear out of nowhere to give me more detention again.

Even when I think I finally win and have him admit to his wrongs he still finds a way to make excuses for himself.

"What were you expecting?! I'm a beater that's what we do!"

Does he really think I don't know what a bloody beater is?!

Is he trying to make me pass off as an emotional wreck because of my appropriate reaction to such injury during a supposed amicable match?!

Any beater whether amateur or professional could agree that either maliciously or not that throw was unwarranted during training.

"There really is something wrong with you," I walk right in front of him, toe to toe, and spite my statement right in his face pushing him aside to gain back access to the sink.

I start scrubbing as my mind throws all the different reasons I despise the fucker. Irresponsible, unfunny, no compassion.

I'm so lost in my spiteful analysis of him that I don't register that my thoughts aren't my own anymore as I unconsciously start rambling out loud.

"An idiot who doesn't even think before taking people down with him," I grumble scrubbing away.

"Come on now it's not like he's dead," He nips throwing down yet another pile of small cauldrons beside me.

"I'm talking about me!" I yell letting go of my current task and letting the pot fall and clang with another one causing a ruckus in the sink.

"Not only is my friend in the infirmary because of you but I'm also stuck with you trying to teach someone who I learned has never been slacking in muggle history before recently."

His jaw slacks open and his eyes double in size like the breakfast sausages I had this morning.

"Wait a minute. You think I'm doing this on purpose?!"

You do everything on purpose! Your dad works for the ministry, he is a Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office employee dammit! If anyone is an expert at muggle stuff it's your dad!" I say as a matter of fact.

"And tell me exactly what would it bring me to purposely be bad at this subject all of a sudden?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe to annoy me more often than usual." it sounds like a question but I know I'm just clarifying the situation.

"You think I'm gonna waste my days stuck with you in the library acting dumb for fun?" he tries to ask sarcastically.

"And why not? Beside the library part isn't that what you do all day anyways?"

The quick wit seems like it struck him as he scoffs with a broad smile.

"If you want to be a failure for the rest of your life go ahead and be my guest but I'll ask you not to take me down with you."

That same disbelief smile disappears and leaves place for a blank look that doesn't often grace his face.

"Unlike what you think, success doesn't necessarily come from academic prowesses." he tries to bite.

"Obviously not when it comes to you." I mock before turning back around feeling satisfied for getting him not once but twice in a row.

The triumphant silence doesn't last long before he dwells in a monologue that I don't bother listening to. Instead, I tune him out and start scrubbing which helps to cover the annoying sound of his voice.

His speech feels like hours long but is probably just a few minutes tangent as by the time my ears recognize his next sentence I'm only done with the first cauldron.

"-With such a nasty attitude it's no wonder Murphy didn't show up to your date."

The cauldron clashes with another as I let it fall back into the abnormally huge sink before turning my head toward the nuisance of my life.

"How do you know about that?" the voice that comes out of my mouth is one I don't recognize.

He pauses and seems to hesitate.

"Heard Katie talk about it to her friend."

"I never said anything about it to Katie, 'matter of fact I never said anything about this date to anyone ever so there's no way you heard this through gossip."

"He told me." he tries again even less believable than the first time.

"Bullshit." I seeth.

It's bluff, while I believe I might know Murphy it's not to say that he isn't just like any other guy and simply good at hiding his real intentions.

He starts ranting about some story I can tell is made up on the spot and it's like the wheels stopped turning and the lightbulb lights up in my head with such intensity that the next words come out of my mouth in a loud realization that echoes his own.

"You did this, It was you!" I accuse him with a rageful glare.

He steps back and rolls his eyes tilting his head back, "Oh my-you know what?! Yeah, I did. I warned the guy and I did well because he deserved better than to be stuck on a date with a stuck-up cunt like you." he finishes his tirade by sticking his index finger in my enraged face.

"You're fucking evil." I spit it like it's a statement everyone agrees upon watching him turn his back to me walking farther away.

My outburst is so intense that I have to take a shaky breath and keep my tears at bay as my better judgment is thrown out the window and I decide to finally pour all my frustration out.

"You know, you always take some sick pleasure in telling me I'm cold-hearted," the beginning of my speech is shakey but I quickly regain strength in my voice to let out all my poison,"But you can't even own up to your own fucking flaws and the fact that you're nothing but a jackass who use your so-called 'pranks' to harass everyone in school because they know better to be friends with an asshole like you who's only friend is his twin because no one else wants to be around you!"

My rant is over and the only noise filling the space is my heavy breathing. Catching my breath I feel hot and can barely focus on anything other than my heart beating in my ears as I feel my boiling blood travel all through my body as I stare dead into the eyes of the one who brought me to such an extent of anger.

When my heart settles and I can finally hear my breathing slow down I can focus solely on him and realize that his stare is dead.

He's not glaring, he's just looking. All trace of anger is gone and he's left staring at me or rather through me with dead eyes.

I seem to have struck a nerve and for once the guy doesn't have a comeback. Instead, I'm rewarded with the shoulder shove of a six-foot-something figure who passes me to walk to the sink and starts scrubbing away…

What the heck?

The feeling of regret invades me for a moment but is quickly replaced by one of annoyance.

Why should I feel regret? It's not like he ever feels regret for the horrible things he does. He never apologizes to anyone no matter how far he crosses the line.

The regret quickly fades and I instead let the small spot of confidence inside me grow. It's the first time I've ever shut the mouth of the biggest jerk there is, why shouldn't I enjoy it as long as it lasts?

After everything, I'm entitled to this. I'm entitled to twist the knife.

I take a first careful step and then a second, more confident one closer to him and the sink.

"Yeah, I might be a cold-hearted bitch. But you're an arrogant jackass who's not even funny." I say more calmly yet still petty.

"Oh piss off!" he shouts throwing the cauldron back into the sink with a smash that I wonder might have actually shattered or maybe chipped one of them.

I jump aside to avoid another shoulder shove and follow him with my eyesight to spot him grabbing his stuff and realize he is trying to escape this detention to avoid my lash-out.

Figuring out his plan I catch up and run past him to stand in front of the door blocking his way out.

"No! No, You called me what you called me and now I get to call you whatever I want!"

I wonder for a moment why he doesn't push past me, for sure his frame can easily overpower mine but instead of crashing into me to walk out of the potion class he instead turns around and throws both robe and satchel on a station with a shout that almost rivals mine.

"Alright then let's go ahead, get it all out of your system sweetheart." He snarls standing in the middle of the class, his arms expanded before he places them on his hips.

"You!" the bitter tone escapes me in a rough huff as I point at him, "Have done nothing but make my life hell since the day I arrived." I start walking towards him, "And for what? I have NEVER given you any reason to hate me and yet I have been the target of so many of your pranks that I started being known as the damn Weasley's guinea pig!" I throw my finger in his direction before it falls back on my sides as I walk slowly but with conviction towards him.

"There we go!" he says faking being proud probably to egg me on in my rant with a sick smirk bending down to my eye level and crossing his arms probably to toy with me and undermine me as he always does.

"You do nothing at school but be a nuisance and waste everyone's time including mine and it's so sick to think that you can't even let others be successful just because you can't achieve anything on your own, it's pathetic!" I'm getting closer, almost toe to toe with the redhead who doesn't take a step back and stays planted where he stands or rather is bent over.

"Come on let it all out," he snarls.

"But somehow I was still stupid enough to think that this time you would have the decency to at least admit you went too far and apologize for hurting my friend but even then you cannot take responsibility as always," I finish my tirade taking my final step right in front of him as our noses brush.

"Anything else?!" he angrily spits in my face with a scowl.

I breathe in harshly wishing I could punch him or clap back like I did before but realize if my rant hasn't aroused all kinds of empathy it is useless to keep calling him names it won't male a difference.

"Yeah, your attempt to make me look ugly by turning my hair pink completely failed because I still look good unlike you," I say sourly throwing a glance at his mop of hair.

He sneers.

His arms that were crossed in front of him manage to travel up and brush strands of hair behind my ears before his fingers slide down and twirl the locks in his hands toying with them.

When I'm done bathing in the hatred coating his eyes I notice I'm not the only one panting when I feel his breath brush my face.

Why is he panting? I'm the one who just rambled angrily for five minutes.

"Got it all out?" he says calmer this time around.

I look at him and my eyes make the mistake of switching between his eyes and lips just a second to see his doing just the same and analyze my face.

We haven't moved from our spot and I don't know why.

"Yeah, I think so," he whispers his lips brushing over mine with each syllable.

He stands back up, his hands leaving my hair and falling back to his side as he brushes past me leaving me to stand there frozen trying to comprehend the goosebumps littering my body and my hands shaking by my hips.

I manage to turn around and see him grabbing his stuff and making his way to the class entrance once more.

I find my voice, less confident than before but still strong enough to try and stop him.

"What are you doing detention isn't over yet!" I begrudgingly state.

"Then I guess I'll get a week's worth of detention!" he announces walking out with one hand clutching his satchel and the other one throwing his robe over his shoulder.

He's gone, and in the newly found silence, I breathe out through my nose and assess what just happened.

Weasley just mocked me, pissed me off and egged me on, undermined me, and left me in a classroom filled to the brim with cauldrons to clean all by myself after toying with my anger, my hair, and…

My hand bolts into fists and my nails sink into my palms as I conclude what I already know.

I hate him.

[cantpickonefandoms]

Sooo guess what came in the mail for me!!

It’s really good and I wanna ramble about some of my favourite things in the comic so THIS IS YOUR SPOILER WARNING!!

OK SO:

-First, this is probably my favourite of all the TDP comics that have been put out, TTM was chock full of Rayllum and I loved every second of it, and I loved learning about Rayla, and Claudia and Soren’s pasts in their respective comics, but I have been dying to learn more about Callum and Ez’s past for a long time, and this comic delivered plenty of what I was hoping for, I think the only thing I’m kind of disappointed about was we didn’t learn much about Sarai or about Callum’s bio dad, but that’s alright, that’s more of a gripe of mine than anything.

-The story starts off with Callum and Ezran coming back from the incident with the waterfall and the raccoons that Callum mentions during 1x09, nice continuity nod!

-There’s a part where Ezran is struggling to explain to Harrow how he can talk to animals and Harrow just gently tells Ez to slow down to let the words come to him, Harrow is such a good dad!

-Callum makes this face when the boys discover a library:

I love that nerd so much! (All I could hear when I read this line was “I’d like to spend my vacation at the LIBRARY!”)

-There’s a handful of moments where Callum quotes Sarai, little tidbits of advice she gave to him.

-There’s a great moment where Ezran goes around talking to several kids and offers them comfort and sends them to the town hall for safety and Callum is completely blown away and tells Ez that he was amazing and he sounded just like Harrow in that moment.

-There’s another great moment where Ezran wants to go check on the kids in the town hall while Callum reads about the dream warden and of course Callum doesn’t want Ez to go alone and we get some genuine vulnerability from Callum when he admits that he promised to keep Ezran safe for Harrow and that he thinks if he succeeds then Harrow will be proud of him, and that he feels like he keeps failing at keeping that promise, poor guy doesn’t realize that Harrow already is proud of him!

-Easily the best moment is when Ezran talks the dream warden down, the the story of the dream explains that the creature had a young elf friend, but eventually he lost his friend started giving people nightmares as a result, now during most of the comic there’s a lot of times where Callum is irritable towards Ezran, he scoffs at a lot of Ez’s suggestions, he mocks Ezran’s ‘weird animal thing’, and there’s a part where he’s trying convince Harrow to let him come with them to the east side of the village, and is annoyed when Harrow permits him to come on the condition that he keeps an eye on Ezran, and when Ez talks to the dream warden he says that creature reminds him of his brother, that Callum makes him laugh and draws imaginary animals for him, but around the same time every year, around the time when Sarai passed, Callum becomes angry, but that Ezran still loves Callum and refuses to give up on Callum, I love this message so much, also Ezran is truly wise beyond his years, he’s like somewhere between four and six in this story and he shows this level understanding and patience towards Callum dealing with grief and missing Sarai, that’s incredible!

-Later Callum tells Ez that he has a gift for talking and that Sarai would be proud of him, and Ez tells Callum that she would be proud of him too, I love these boys so much!!

-JERK FACE DANCE ORIGIN REVEAL HELL YEAH!

I loved the comic so much, I loved looking into Callum and Ez’s past, I loved the angst, I loved the message, I loved all of Ez’s animal sidekicks, I had such a good time reading it! This is just making me more hyped for season 7! Idk if they’re gonna put out another comic, but if this the last TDP comic then I’d say they ended on a high note.