#like of course people still know what it is you dingbat

[vinnyandthephenomena]

sometimes i get surprised to see someone mention marble hornets out in the wild as if it’s not wildly popular outside of tumblr

[heqvenlymoons]

That One, I Want That One

Based on @fleursroses 's incorrect quote! <3

This is being posted as a oneshot on both my AO3 account and here on tumblr for now but I'm seriously considering turning it into a multi-chaptered fic because how well it was received. Someone said it had rom com potential and I can see it 😭

Daminette One Shot | Crack Fic | AO3

Damian tugged on the collar of his great dane, Titus, trying to get away from his imbecile brothers. 

It was a futile endeavour, as his brothers merely sped up their walking pace, talking over one another. 

“Come on, Dami! We just wanna know,” Richard— Grayson, because he was currently being a nuisance— whined. 

Todd scoffed, waving around the toy Nerf gun he insisted on bringing. “You know what? The brat’s probably better off without a wife, god forbid whoever gets stuck with him forever. I bet you, the little shit’s gonna be the one blackmailing someone into being his wife if he sees fit.” 

“Fuck you, Todd.” Damian’s fingers itched to grab his katana and slit it over his idiotic brother’s throat but at last, his father and pseudo grandfather figure, Alfred, had confiscated the knives he tried to sneak out on their business trip to Paris. 

Drake sipped on his coffee, his head bobbing up and down as he struggled to stay awake, even as he mumbled an incoherent, “You’re never going to get an answer if you aggravate him like that, Jay. Although I’d still like to know as well.” 

He hadn’t finished his sentence when he stumbled into a nearby pedestrian, almost kissing the ground had Todd not grabbed him by the collar at the last second.

During the mishap, the coffee cup Drake was holding spilled onto the floor, seeping into the ground as he stared at it with mournful eyes. “My coffee!” 

Todd rolled his eyes, letting go of the sleep-deprived Drake’s collar with an unsympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Damian’s lips curved up to a smirk. Perhaps that would keep Drake quiet for a few minutes as he mourned his spilled coffee. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Grayson or Todd from their irritating line of questioning his so-called ‘love life’. 

Damian glared when Grayson pulled out the puppy doll eyes, accompanied by his repeated question, “Come on, please? Just answer the question— what’s your ideal type?” 

“Repeating the question with that pathetic expression of yours does not make me any more inclined to answer your question.” Damian spotted a bakery up ahead and approached it, ignoring Grayson’s pout. 

Perhaps his dingbat brothers would behave themselves in an embellishment full of people, although that would be wishful thinking on his part. 

His brothers, of course, followed him and continued to push their relentless questions onto him 

Todd grabbed his arm, stopping him, a glint of glee in his eyes, no doubt finding amusement in his current predicament. “You know, we’re not going to stop bothering you until you tell us.” 

Damian’s brows furrowed in annoyance, knowing full well from experience that his brothers would not stop poking and prodding until he did what they wanted. 

Right now, they wanted to know his ideal type, and they claimed his answer was to sedate their ever-growing ‘curiosity’ when he knew they wanted to utilize the information to set him up with someone. 

He scowled, making his decision. He would tell them only to make them stop badgering him about the inane question but that didn’t mean he was open to the idea of a relationship with someone they chose for him 

“Fine. My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. You imbeciles better not utilize this information to set me up with someone or I will stab you.” He hissed, sending them his most intimidating glare for good measure. 

Todd dared to smirk at him. “Not likely, Demon Spawn. And even if we did, you won’t stab us. You’re all bark and no bite.” 

In response, Damian kicked him in the knee, making the older double over with a grunt. 

Before he could continue his assault, Grayson dragged him away, Todd spitting curses from where he lay on the ground in a starfish position, the Nerf gun on the ground beside him. 

Grayson was already wearing the contemplative expression he had on whenever he was about to do something stupid. “Okay~ that’s enough, little D. Back to what we were discussing, your future girlfriend has to be brave, strong, and smart, you say?” 

Damian gritted his teeth. “You are paraphrasing at best but I assume you already got the general idea because I am not going to repeat myself for your benefit.” 

He turned and before he could turn the door handle of the bakery to continue his dramatic exit (or in this case, dramatic entry), the door flew open and it would’ve hit him in the face had it not been for his quick reflexes.

The scowl reappeared on his face and he turned back to reprimand the person who dared try to attack him with a door to see a girl about his age, shuffling past his bewildered brothers in a hurry. 

Damian blinked, watching as the girl with raven-haired pigtails promptly tripped over nothing, crashing into the pole, the box she was holding fell from her hands and macaroons came tumbling out. 

He watched with interest as the girl mumbled out apologies to the inanimate object, picking up the fallen macaroons from the ground while she did and putting them back in the box. 

Snapping out of his daze, he handed Titus’s leash to Grayson before moving to help the girl, grabbing the remains of the macaroons from the ground and placing them in a neat row in the box.

He held out a hand for the girl to take, which she accepted with a grateful look and he pulled her to her feet. 

Getting a good look at her face, he was filled with a fluttering sensation in his stomach and he ignored it, thinking he must be coming down with a stomach bug. “Are you alright? That was quite a fall.”

Her bluebell eyes were blown wide, staring into his green ones with surprise. She broke the stare first, shaking her head before responding, “I’m fine! Thank you for your help, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Her phone dinged and she yelped. “I’m sorry but I’m already late, see you around, mysterious handsome but kind person!”  

He opened his mouth to respond but she had already sped away, only catching sight of her red face as she turned.

His face heated as his mind caught up with her words. The girl was definitely something… 

He felt an arm going around his shoulders and he didn’t react, still staring in the direction the girl took off. 

“So, didn’t know Demon Spawn had it in him to talk to a pretty girl without scowling,” Todd drawled, the beginning of a teasing expression appearing on his face when he noticed the dazed look his youngest brother was sporting. 

Damian shoved him away, looking distracted.

Drake shook his head, mumbling, “I must be hallucinating, Demon Spawn would never willingly talk to someone, much less a girl.” 

“That one. I want that one.” Damian declared, unknowingly sending his adopted brothers into cardiac arrest at the words that fell out of his mouth. 

Grayson looked torn between looking wary and gleeful. “Uh… what do you mean by ‘that one’, little D?” 

Damian didn’t look at him as he pointed in the direction the girl ran off. “Her.” 

Todd’s jaws gaped like a fish, for once, speechless. 

Drake in his sleep-deprived state can only dumbly respond, “That’s not how it works, Damian. You can’t just go around adopting people.”

Damian finally dragged his gaze away from the direction the girl had long run off in, glaring at his brothers with his cheeks blazing red. “Not adoption, you imbecile.”

Not giving them the time to respond, he continued, a look of stress crossing his expression before he willed it away. “You lot have to keep Father from adopting her, it would cause complications.”

Grayson hummed. “She does meet the criteria, black hair and blue eyes.”

Todd seemed to have unfrozen, shaking his head in denial. “Wait wait wait, just wait a second. You’re saying, she’s your ideal type? You literally met her 5 minutes ago! I thought you said your future partner must be and I quote ‘brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized’?” 

He prattled on, not paying attention to how Titus had taken to getting slobber all over his shoes. “No offence to her but she tripped over air and crashed into the poll in front of her. The clumsy behaviour caught your eye of all things? Are you sure you haven’t been abducted by aliens?” 

Damian glared, the red not receding from his face. He rounded on Drake. “Do a full background check on her, it is necessary for me to know everything about her if she were to be my partner.”

He paused, scowling. “Actually, I better do this myself. I need to know everything about her, it is better if you imbeciles stay as far away from her as possible. She does not need you all to monopolize her time.” 

He grabbed Titus’s leash from Grayson and headed in the direction of Le Grand Paris to do just that, leaving behind his shell-shocked brothers. 

Jason turned to his brothers, looking amused now that he had gotten over his shock. “So, who’s gonna tell him that stalking is not the right way to woo a girl?” 

[marshmallow-biscuit-blog]

Clarissa, Joe, Rooty, and Lacey

🎭,☘️,❤️, 🎵

🎭MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.? Clarissa - She's pretty much stoic around everyone but Dice and her grandkids. (it's odd, but yes, her grandkids kind of includes Cuphead, Mugman, Chalice, Siphi and Holly too.) She's less stiff around Tea and Joe as well since they were always so kind to Dice. She's a little too friendly to Kettle Joe - He's pretty friendly to everyone. He has individuals he... doesn't like at all, but still is kind to with the best of his ability. (He has pretty bad anger issues though, so sometimes he blows up anyways) Exceptions being people like the Devil and Ludwig. Even Porkrind, though he hates his guts, he knows Tea and him are friends so he's still nice, so Porkrind's tolerant back. (now anyways, he learned to control himself after that incident.) There's other people who Joe becomes an absolute child around, like Dice, or Philip (I mention him a lot, I will hopefully make an actual post about him one day) and of course he loves his wife dearly, even if he goofs around and pisses her off sometimes. With his kids he's really gentle and playful, though stern too- even if they don't really listen without discipline. His mom he adores and would do anything for, a mama's boy, but his brother... they're doing better, but not quite there. Cinnamon and Joe still butt heads, but they can now share laughs and make new positive memories with each other. They've both done shitty things to each other, and they've both apologized for it. Rooty - She's just- man she's just a dingbat to everyone. She doesn't care who you are. If you treat her like shit, she'll treat you like shit. If you treat her nice, she'll treat you nice, fair is fair to her. Lace - Being like- 5 she just kinda has that not biased type of attitude. Give her candy, she's happy. Don't give it, you're the worst person for 20 minutes. ☘️CLOVER - do they believe in luck? are they lucky? Clarissa - Nope XD Joe - To an extent he does- he believes he has shitty luck XD Rooty - Yeah she thinks she got shitty luck too yet she continues to do stupid shit so XD Lace - Too little to really know. ❤️RED HEART - their love language(s)? Clarissa - She barely believes in love any more Joe - He loves physical and vocal affection Rooty - She's really bad with words, so she likes to display that someone's hers by showing it through physical affection Lace - Child 🎵MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them? This one doesn't apply XD

[just-kit-ink]

So in your story, Kitty is 'kidnapped' by the weasels over the misunderstanding, right?

Shiny actually, in her canon timeline, knows the weasels herself. They're sort of business partners; Shiny pays them to let her continue her moonshine business (sometimes they have to 'arrest' her to keep up the pretense that they're a police force. But it's all an act, and after a few days, she gets 'bailed out'). Of course, that was in the 40's. Before the weasels all died. But Shiny lived on to the modern era.

Depending on when Kitty and Shiny knew each other, maybe Shiny finds out that Kitty is being held by the re-drawn Toon Patrol, and she pays them all a visit like "What are you dingbats doing?! She's not a criminal!" Or this is when Kitty and Shiny first meet, and Shiny doesn't care too much about what's going on with Kitty, but she still asks just to keep up with what her former business partners are up to, "So, What'd you do to get in trouble?"

//Okay I so read that dialogue in Jennifer Tilly's voice 😂

I like the idea of Shiny being like These idiots kidnapping a kid and then she gets there and the kid is like 18 and looks less scared and more bored than anything. Or if this is a year later and Shiny finds out about how they first met and asks Kitty that she'd be like "Honestly, trouble seems to find me." Because it does. 😂 She doesn't plan on ending up in insane situations they just sort of find her and through a combination of doing her own thing, following her own curiosity and being in the right place at the right time she ends up meeting people most of us would only evet meet in our dreams...or nightmares. 😅

[littlewalken]

Jun 19

Still writing on the boy band story. Have cut out a couple of moments that cut out a smaller side character where less is more and wrote a bit more about a medium side character which might get trimmed in editing. Quite a few places feel like they want more which can easily be done in the next draft as this one is about getting it out and giving this version it's general form.

I've also written out the inner monologs of several characters and will probably leave things that way.

something something When I get around to it I'm just going to upload a bunch of my writing to like Google Docs something something for the sake of letting other people read it so the stories can get out there something something

One thing about not having kid(s) is not watching them try to grow up while having their dreams smashed and trampled at every turn for what ever reason. Don't make me get out the list.

On the real life end of things waiting to see at least a model before we decide if we want to rent somewhere is still proving to be a smart idea. Every time we call the one place it gets pushed out another month.

If you are living in a shit shack or a hell hole and paying 50% of your income a month for rent believe me it's better than 50% or your income a week for a hotel plus storage. If you've been homeless for any reason out of your control then you know what it's like to do everything within your control to not have it happen again. I'd rather miss out on something and have to stay here another month(s) and fortunately others have finally seen it that way.

And I refuse to live in a soft story dingbat.

One of the places we're looking at being spitting distance form the San Andreas fault is another thing but at the rate it keeps getting pushed back we'll be in the other one.

And of course all the places where half the footage is in the bathroom and not in an ADA wheelchair user compliant way.

[smells-like-mettaton]

“The waver in a persons voice when they’re stressed” with gaster?

the next life

Rating: T Word Count: 768 Read on AO3: here

XXX

Metal bent and buckled, rivets popping from the pressure, polyurethane gloves melting to the cloth gloves melting to his hands. Marrow boiling in his bones, thoughts evaporating like every last trace of humidity in the parched air.

Wrong. Everything had gone so, so wrong. This was supposed to be routine maintenance. No magma flares had been predicted for the next seventy-two hours. His calculations were never wrong.

He was never wrong, and if he was, it couldn’t be now—not with his brother huddled in the maintenance pod beside him, his sockets dark with terror.

“✋︎—I ☟︎AV☜︎ ☜︎VE☼︎Y❄︎☟︎✋︎☠︎☝︎ UN👎︎☜︎R 👍︎⚐︎NTR⚐︎☹︎,” he said, his cipher flickering in and out. Sans would never believe such a trembling lie.

If Wingdings didn’t do something soon, it wouldn’t matter. Skeletons could survive extreme temperatures, but with enough time heat could crack their bones. Then they’d be nothing but charred dust embedded in the pod’s melting hull.

“Dings, I…” Sans gasped out.

Wingdings flipped switches and turned dials, trying to vent heat, engage the backup coolant containers. Warnings blared and blared, loud as Sans’s drunk voice on karaoke night. 

“Dings.” Sans grasped the sleeve of his lab coat, which was starting to smoke. “Please.”

Wingdings tugged his arm free. He couldn’t afford to be distracted now. He had to work harder, faster, he had to save them—

“Papyrus.”

Wingdings flinched at his childhood name. He’d discarded that font long ago, replacing it with others that would be taken more seriously. Aster for straightforward communication; Wingdings to protect his work from nosy journalists. The mystery of the dingbat accent added a certain flair to his reputation, too.

Of course, none of that mattered now. On the other side of the pod, red-hot magma began to seep through the pod’s cracks.

“We’re not getting out of here.” Sans’s voice was resigned. His bones rattled gently, barely audible over all the klaxons. “Can you finally take a break for two seconds to look me in the eyes?”

Wingdings didn’t want to. That would be as good as admitting he’d failed. That his life’s work ended in a fiery grave, where no one could even give them a proper funeral. Without his constant adjustments, the CORE would overload New Home’s power grid. It would be back to the darkness for the rest of monsterkind. All those people who’d counted on him…

“You’ve done everything you can,” Sans said. “You’ve done everything for everyone else, except for—”

Except for me, Sans didn’t say. 

If there had been any water left in him, Wingdings would’ve cried.

“I’M SORRY,” he murmured, gripping his brother’s hand. The melted rubber oozed between their metacarpals. 

“I know.”

Magma inched closer, yet closer. The heat baked the periosteum of his skull.

“I SHOULD NEVER HAVE BROUGHT YOU WITH ME.”

“What, and crawl through all those narrow maintenance pipes yourself?”

Wingdings shook his head. It wasn’t the time for his brother’s terrible jokes. 

There would never be a time again.

“‘Sides, it’s a bit late to get cold feet.”

Wingdings snorted in spite of himself. The magma reached the tip of Sans’s slippers, catching them aflame.

“Ah. Toasty.” Sans forced a grin.

Sans was trying to comfort him. Despite everything, his brother was still trying to make things a little brighter. 

Wingdings’ ribcage felt like it was cracking.

“SANS, I—”

The pod shuddered. The control panel sparked, circuits sizzling and smoking. 

“It’s ok.” Sans squeezed his hand. “I’ll see ya in the next life, alright?”

“THE NEXT LIFE,” Wingdings murmured, eyesockets widening. 

He’d done studies into other lives. Other realities. Universes where the Barrier didn’t exist, or where they’d never been trapped in the first place—but any practical experiments would have taken far too much power. More power than he’d even been able to harness with the CORE.

But maybe, with the raw heat energy surrounding them—

He reached back for the controls, tugging Sans’s rubber-fused hand with him.

“H-hey, I thought we were having a moment.” Sans’s shorts were on fire; he tried to pat out the flames with his free hand.

“WE ARE. AND WE WILL HAVE MANY MORE MOMENTS YET!”

Mental calculations complete, Wingdings opened the fuel hatches and punched the throttle. Explosions shook him to his core (oh, Sans would have loved that pun) as gasoline hit magma and combusted. And with that power—

They punched through into the dark.

XXX

“There’s two of ‘em… brothers, I think. They just showed up one day and… asserted themselves.

“This town has gotten a lot more interesting since then.”

[jishyucks]

Eight Count ‣ lmh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn

‣ wc: 10.8k

‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners

‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!

i.

You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.

It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.

Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.

Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.

"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.

You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.

After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.

A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?

Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.

It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.

"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."

You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.

Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.

Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."

"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"

"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.

"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.

You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."

This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."

ii.

"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"

"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.

"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"

"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.

"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.

You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.

This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."

Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.

It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.

The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.

"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.

"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.

As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.

"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.

Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"

Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.

"What else do you think?"

Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.

"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.

"Easy for you to say," you sighed.

From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.

You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.

Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.

"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."

"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.

Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?

Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.

"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.

"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.

Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"

"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."

You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.

"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."

"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.

You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.

Right?

iii.

"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.

Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.

Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"

"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.

"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.

"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.

Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"

"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"

"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.

"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.

Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.

"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."

"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"

Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"

"I'm…?"

"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.

"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.

Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.

But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.

iv.

The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.

"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.

"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."

"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.

"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."

"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.

"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."

"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"

Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."

Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.

Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.

"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.

Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."

Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"

"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.

"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."

"But professor–"

Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.

Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.

At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."

"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."

The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.

"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.

The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.

"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.

"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.

"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.

Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.

Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.

"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.

"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"

You replied.

"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.

"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."

"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"

Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.

The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.

"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.

"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.

You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.

He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.

"Done staring at me yet?"

You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.

"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."

An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.

You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.

"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."

You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."

Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"

You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."

"And?"

"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."

"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"

"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."

"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.

"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."

"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.

"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.

The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.

Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.

Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.

The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.

Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.

He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.

"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.

You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.

"What the–"

"Join me!"

You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?

"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"

"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.

"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.

"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.

When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.

Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.

Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.

v.

There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.

Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.

When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.

"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"

Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.

This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?

Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.

Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.

"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.

He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.

As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.

"No one."

None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.

Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.

"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.

Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."

"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.

You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"

"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"

"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.

Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."

Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.

You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.

"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.

"You already know," you elbowed him.

Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."

You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"

"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.

"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"

Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.

"No," you say flatly.

"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."

When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.

-

"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.

"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.

The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.

Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.

Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.

You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"

You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"

"Studying?"

"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."

Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.

Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.

"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.

Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"

"Just don't be loud."

Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.

You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.

The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.

Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.

"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."

He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.

"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.

"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."

Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'

vi.

Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.

There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.

"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.

"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.

You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?

Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.

"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.

Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.

"And?"

"And what?" Minho ridiculed.

"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.

Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"

The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."

Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"

"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."

"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.

"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."

"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."

"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"

"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.

Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.

"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.

"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'm not lying."

"You staring at me says otherwise."

"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"

Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.

-

Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.

You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.

"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."

You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."

She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.

The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.

You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.

You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.

You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.

You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.

"Minho? What in the world?"

He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."

"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"

Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.

"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.

"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.

"Weren't you just leaving?"

"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.

"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."

"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.

"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.

"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"

"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.

"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."

Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."

No judgment.

The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.

"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"

Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?

"Because you care."

You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"

"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.

How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.

You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"

"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."

"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.

"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.

"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.

Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"

There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.

"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?

"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."

"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.

"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.

"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"

"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.

Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.

His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"

Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."

Bonus:

"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.

"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."

"Well, you look very handsome."

Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.

"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.

He was right.

"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.

"We shall."

Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3

[toriwakes]

I’ll Get The Candles [George Weasley x Reader]

summary: george wants to talk.

content warnings: suggestive actions, (making out)

a/n: THIS IS COMPLETELY INSPIRED BY THAT CLIP ON YOUTUBE OF DAVID THLEWIS...PLS SAY YALL KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

kissing. for what felt like the hundredth time this week, you and george were kissing again. you were on top like you always were and his hands were gliding up and down your back, occasionally going to squeeze your bum. the kiss was sloppy as per usual, but you liked it like that. you pulled back, high in adrenaline. “let’s go up then.” george smacked his gum obnoxiously. “no.” you backed away from him but kept that bitchy front you always put on. what in hell does he mean no? he’s comfortable surely, you would’ve been able to tell if he wasn’t. what was he getting at? “i know you want it.” you said. “do i?” he smirked. “yes!” you raised your voice a bit. he watched your head get hotter and hotter. “i don’t want it.” you rolled your eyes at him. “rubbish.” george went on to complain about how after you two hook up you brush him aside and act like a pain. well that’s what you two are; a hook up. “what’d you want then?” you asked. “i wanna talk to you like a normal person. is that too much to ask?” you moved back, still straddling him but rested your head on the sofa cushion. “talk to me.” he demanded. “bout what?” you were trying hard to make him give up on this. he didn’t. “about anything. you have all those ruddy books in your room- have you ever read them?” you were slightly offended. “course i have.” you spat. “what’s you learn from them?” you thought about it. “well, i’m a feminist.” george chuckled, not taking you seriously. “what’s a feminist?” he mocked. you spoke more agitated now. “someone who wants equality between men and women. dingbat.” he made a more serious face as if to say ‘really?’. you nodded. “well then. see what happens when you just talk like normal people?” silence followed. “are we still going to hook up-“ “yeah.” “i’ll get the candles.”

the two of you laid in his bed, chests heaving. “you should read me one of those books sometime.” you giggled and blew out the candle, falling asleep next to the ginger boy.

[binniebutter]

Too Late

Pairing: Lee Chan x Reader, Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, e2l au, hogwarts au

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: a couple of swear words

Summary: “He was too late”... “She was too late.”

a/n: This is for my secret santa @samuelkimz​ i’m sorry it’s so late, and i’m also sorry because there is not a lot of fluff in here if any

“Lee Chan!” All heads in The Great Hall turned in the direction of your voice. Except for one, belonging to the bane of your existence. Lee Chan, who often goes by Dino, was currently laughing his ass off at your demise. At the sight of you two everyone went back to what they were doing, used to yours and Chan’s altercations by now.

“W-what? I-I didn’t even d-do anyth- HAHAHA,”he couldn’t finish his sentence as his laughter bubbled up again. And you did have to admit, you would be the same way if you were in his position. Laughing so much that your stomach would start hurting. you’d probably take pictures too if you were being honest.

“Oh so your foot just so happened to move in between the tables right as I was walking past you, Lee? And is it just a coincidence that that made me trip and drop all of my bloody food huh?” If this had been anybody else you wouldn’t dare speak to them that way. But of course, it's Chan, your well-known enemy.

Lee Chan, Slytherin seeker and one of the most popular boys at Hogwarts. He and 12 other boys make up Seventeen, a group known for not only their good looks, but also their talent. They were the it boys of magic. Everyone wanted to either date them or be them. You, you wanted neither. You just wanted them to leave you alone. Well, except for your best friend Seungkwan. Speaking of the devil…

“Ok Y/n how about we don’t commit a murder today. Come now, there’s no use crying over spilt potion.” It was a good thing that he had come at that time seeing as you were 5 seconds away from punching that douche in the face. Seungkwan led you away from Chan, towards the Gryffindor table. He gave you his food to eat, claiming that he was on another diet.

“Again, Kwannie. You need to eat! Here let’s share this Steak and Kidney pudding!”

“No, I can’t-”

You shoved a spoonful into his mouth anyway.

“What a prick,” you scoffed under your breath. As you were preparing to stand up again a pale hand came into your view. Slowly you looked up and came face to face with Jeon Wonwoo. Your breath hitched as you met his eyes. He was stunning, maybe not as handsome as Chan but stunning nonetheless. 

What are you saying you dingbat. Did you just call that idiot handsome!?!?

What are you saying you dingbat. Did you just call that idiot handsome!?!?

Wonwoo clears his throat and it isn’t until then that you realize that you had been staring at his face for a little too long. You blushed and took his hand, feeling a little insecure about your weight.

“Thank you Wonwoo,” you said in a small, timid voice. This is how you usually are. Quiet and shy, but Chan really brings out the worst in you. You look down, blush still prominent on your face, and it was only then that you realized your books scattered across the floor. 

You let out a groan as you fell to your knees and started to pick up the textbooks one by one. As you were about to pick up your potions book, a hand beat you to it. The same hand that had helped you off the floor. He’s pretty nice for a Ravenclaw.

After gathering all your books, you stood up and rushed towards The Fat Lady, muttering a quick thanks to Wonwoo on the way. 

“Caput Draconis,” you all but rushed the words out, an even more urgent feeling to get in your bed overcoming you. Once inside the common room, you headed up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Bursting into your room, you flopped down into your bed, not even bothering to take your robes off before you fell into a deep sleep.

“Y/n come on! Let’s build a snowman!” A voice called. One that you’d definitely heard before but you can’t put a name to it.

“I can’t, it’s too cold!” Is that…your voice. It definitely is but you don’t remember ever moving your mouth.

“It’s not that cold, you big baby.”

“But I’m your big baby aren’t I,” your voice responded. 

“Y/nnnn,” the voice whined, “Wake up.”

“Huh?” that voice. Where have you heard that voice from?

“Y/n, wake up. Wake up.” Isn’t that...

“Wake up you bloke! It’s suppertime.” 

Chan.

After your rude awakening, you and a couple of girls were walking to The Great Hall. They were all gossiping about something you could care less about and you were pretending to listen. But your mind was elsewhere. You kept going back to your dream. Was that Chan’s voice? And were you guys dating? God, you got a headache just thinking about it.

“Y/n? Were you even listening?” Seulgi asked you. She was nice and you kinda feel bad because you were, in fact, not listening.

“I-I’m sorry? What did you say?”

“I asked you if you have a date for the Yule Ball? We all do and we’re so excited!” you know she meant well. You did. But it kinda hurt knowing that you don’t have a date to the ball and that you probably would never get one.

Before you could answer her, someone else did from behind you.

“Yes, she does. Well, if she’ll allow me to take her?” You slowly turned around and, for the second time that day, came face to face with Jeon Wonwoo. Jesus, he’s everywhere. He let out a little chuckle at your expression which you guess was a mixture of confusion, surprise, and skepticism. “Well? Will you be my date to the Yule Ball?”

You weren’t an idiot. You know that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity because for as long as you have been at Hogwarts, no one has ever been Jeon Wonwoo’s date to a ball. No one. You turned to look at the girls who were all sporting looks of jealousy, except for Seulgi. You turned back to look at Wonwoo, who for some reason was way closer than before. You let out a nervous giggle.

“Uh, s-sure Wonwoo. I’d love to be your date to the Yule Ball.”

You let out a deep breath before going down to the Gryffindor common room. Your dark blue dress was flowing behind you as you walked down the stairs. You’ll admit, you looked great. Seulgi was nice enough to help you with your makeup, which you were extremely grateful for. You probably would’ve poked your eye out if you had attempted it yourself. As you made it down, wolf whistles could be heard from your friends. You rolled your eyes before making your way over to them, slightly wobbly because of your heels. 

“Damn ma, you look good,” one of your friends, Yeonjun, said upon your arrival.

“Shut up,” you replied while rolling your eyes.

“I’m serious, Wonwoo won’t be able to keep his off of you.”

Which was true. He told you himself a little while later at the ball while you were slow-dancing. 

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” He chuckled before leaning closer to you to whisper in your ear.

“Come outside with me.” You looked at him, confused, before slightly nodding your head. He held out his hand for you to take and you did, your other hand holding up your dress so that you don’t trip. Neither of you noticed a pair of eyes watching you leave the room.

Once outside, you took a seat on a bench, glad to be out of that stuffy room and off of your feet. You were definitely going to have blisters tomorrow. Wonwoo sat next to you, planning his next move. He decided to just be straightforward.

“Hey Y/n, look here for a second.” And the moment you did, you were met with a pair of soft lips on yours. Your eyes widened as you froze, not believing that the Jeon Wonwoo was kissing you. After a few seconds, Wonwoo pulled away from you. He searched your eyes for any sign that you liked him back but saw nothing. He frowned and moved back in to kiss you again, as if that would make you like him, but was stopped by your hand.

“W-what was that? Why did you just kiss me!?”

“I like you, Y/n. That’s why I asked you to the ball so that I could tell you fo my feelings. Do...do you like me as well?” You frowned at the question. Wonwoo was nice, he always has been. And there’s no denying that he’s attractive. He’d be a very good boyfriend. But, while Wonwoo was kissing you, all you could think of was one person. Chan.

“I’m sorry Wonwoo, but I like-”

“Chan,” he finished for you. “Yea, I figured. You should go to him. Go get your man,” he said with a wink. You giggled at the action before thanking him and running back inside. Wonwoo watched you run inside, his heart sinking into his stomach. 

He was too late.

You rushed back to the ballroom, being careful not to trip. You burst through the doors, which may have been a tad dramatic but you didn’t give a bloody shit, looking for your target. You pushed through people, looking frantically for Chan, bumping into Yeonjun on the way.

“Jun! Do you know where Chan is!?!?” You yelled over the music.

“Chan? As in Lee Chan???” You nodded. “He’s right there,” he said pointing to somewhere behind you. And you wished that you didn’t turn around. Because there was your enemy turned crush snogging a girl against the wall. You hadn’t even noticed that tears were running down your face until Yeonjun asked if you were ok. You sniffed, turning to him.

 “Yea, I’m fine.” Lie

She was too late.

this sucks bye, also justine I swear to god I’ll write fluff for you.

[theninjamouse]

Ocean on Fire Phantom of the Opera AU Master List (To be added to as I see fit)

Strap in, this is gonna get long. Big thanks to @thaylepo for indulging me and sending many brilliant ideas. 

This is a basic rundown and ideas that would happen at some point in the story. Obviously some things could change or be added but I’ve just got to get this down before I go nuts

Shore and Grillby were childhood friends.

Shore is the child of a wealthy business man, taught from childhood that the arts are to be treasured and appreciated

However, while she may learn instruments and dance and music, she is to take over the family business, not run away to star in the opera like she wants

Grillby's father (he has parents in this au) was a famous violinist who often was called by Shore's father to perform for parties. He wound up teaching Shore fundamentals of music

Little Grillby was a shy flame. Always trailed along behind his father, clutching his tailcoats

Shore saw the tiny elemental and decided instantly: I'm going to be his BEST FRIEND

Queue stuttering, hesitant Grillby being dragged around the manor, getting into all sorts of trouble and adventures. He's a lot more hardy than Shore is, so he rather often found himself acting as a sort of guard dog. He was utterly distraught when Shore fell and broke her arm. Shore teased him about crying because she couldn’t stand to see him so upset

They also learn music together from Grillby's father. First time Shore hears Grillby sing, she grabs his face and screams with delight until the poor little guy is fully bright blue with blushing

Then Grillby's father dies. A family friend takes Grillby away to one of the opera houses to work. Grillby and Shore are 13 and 10 at this point and have spent the last 6 years together. Shore makes Grillby promise to keep singing, to keep the spark of his father alive through music. He promises

They both wait until they are out of sight of the other to cry

Grillby cries every night for the first 3 months in the opera house. As a monster, he is bullied by many of the other students. He mourns his father's passing and he misses Shore to a near unbearable level. The only comfort he has is when he sings quietly to himself in those few moments when he is alone doing his chores

Then he hears a voice, a soft and gentle voice that asks him why such a bright flame weeps. He runs away in fear and hides in his bed

But the voice asks him again and again. 'Why does such a bright flame weep?' Slowly, over the course of a year, Grillby tells the voice his story

The voice says he is the Phantom of the opera house. Grillby thinks he sounds rather young to be a Phantom

The Phantom replies that Grillby is rather young to have such a lovely voice. He offers to teach Grillby. The fire monster agrees upon hearing the Phantom's beautiful and haunting voice

After all, he did promise

15 years pass. Shore has taken over her family business and is finally able to offer herself as a patron to an opera house that has shown remarkable growth over the years, becoming well known in the arts circles

Partially thanks to the star of the show, a humanoid robot named Mettaton. Most of the monsters we know work the show behind the scenes, so having a monster in the lead is a new leap in gaining treatment that is more fair for monster kind as performers

But Mettaton is also a diva. The day Shore arrives with new managers, he throws his tantrum and quits after a rather suspicious accident.

Shore only has eyes for the fire elemental standing frozen with the rest of the crew. She suggests letting him take the lead role. Promising that she knows he can sing.

Grillby is so quiet most assumed he couldn't even talk so naturally protests break out and Shore maybe uses her power as a patron to insist. 'He promised me,' is all she says, looking right at him

So he sings and everyone is stunned at the strength and grace of his voice. The managers instantly whisk him away to prepare for the show

After the show, Shore goes to his new dressing room and they fall into each other's arms. They speak of times past, of the loneliness of being apart. But when Shore says that she wants to take him out to celebrate, he hesitates. The Phantom will not be happy if he leaves, he knows this

But he agrees and she leaves to let him change

Enter in The Phantom. Showing himself for the first time, a figure in black wearing a simple white mask over his face. White hands punched through the palms. Grillby is enchanted, dazed and follows The Phantom into the tunnels under the opera house

*Music of the Night noises*

Grillby has a bit of a Crisis because he genuinely cares about Phantom and they became very close friends as much as teacher and student but this is kind of odd?? A little frightening?

Phantom sees this, backpedals real hard but hides it and sends Grillby back upstairs before falling into bed and screaming into his pillow

When Shore finds Grillby vaguely wandering back into the theater, she goes, uh??? What happened?? Were you kidnapped? I kind of stayed up all night looking for you??

Grillby, still a little in shock because what the heck just happened "Kind of?"

Now that won't STAND

Shore starts digging to find out everything she can about this opera ghost, keeping a close eye on Grillby. There is no gaslighting here folks like in versions of the story that to this day drive me crazy

As Shore digs, accidents start happening. Loose floorboards, unlatched equipment, a falling sandbag or two. Shore catches on pretty quickly what’s happening when she catches just a flash of shadow more than once right before or after these little ‘incidents’ 

Finally plants herself down in the middle of the stage and calls for the Phantom to show his face. It takes a while then she sees a shadow just barely move. He’s up in the rafters, crouched like some kind of bat

“What is your freaking deal?” 

“Why are you trying to take what’s mine?” 

“Yours? He belongs to himself you dingbat”

That makes him laugh for reasons Shore doesn’t get

Conversation happens, a lot of dodging questions, shifting blame. Phantom is oddly charming. For being an attempted murdering/kidnapping jerk

“Are you the one who keeps trying to kill me? The sandbag dropped on my head, the broken trapdoor, the spiders in my hat??”

“Oh my God, I’m not responsible for every little thing that goes wrong in this place. It’s an old building, accidents do happen. 

“The sandbag was me though.”

Grillby materializes just to smack him in the head for that

And so it goes, Grillby and Shore trying to reconnect, Grillby trying to maintain a level of friendship (and maybe more?) with Phantom and Phantom attempting various levels of accidents to get Shore to leave the theater

Until one day he finds Shore on the stage. She’s singing to an empty theater. She’s not...good exactly but...rather unpracticed. He’s startled enough that he stops his evil giggling and untwisting of the hidden trapdoor in the stage to listen. 

He comes up silently, creeping on the edges just out of sight. When he speaks, Shore shrieks and nearly falls off the stage anyway. Her blushing does a weird thing to his Soul. Like a sort of flip flopping squeeze. 

“Well, if you’re going to think yourself worthy of my Flame, you’d better have a voice to match. Let me hear you sing again.”  

Many ‘threat’ filled lessons later-

“Hmm. Maybe there’s hope for you after all” 

“Maybe there’s more to you than a creepy stalker personality.” 

Past the Point of No Return scene happens at some point. I don’t make the rules

Also Phantom and Shore have a sword fight that maybe starts out as anger fueled but rather quickly changes to a pent up Feelings kind of deal

Grillby’s concern is quick to fade and he watches the two idiots dance around each other, wondering why exactly they don’t see how much they actually do like each other. 

It’s also at this moment he realizes fully that he loves them both

“Well shoot, I love these two morons and they love each other but won’t admit it. This is going to be very ‘fun’ to sort out”

Eventually, Shore asks for Phantom’s name. 

“My name...died with the person I was long ago.” 

“Maybe it’s time you reclaim it.” 

His name is Wing Dings Gaster and for countless years he was held by the Void. He doesn’t fully remember how he escaped, nor what he looked like before. All he knows is that his face is broken with terrible cracks and skeletal in only the vaguest sense with a body that ebbs and flows with darkness. When he first stumbled back into the light after the darkness of the Void, people screamed and ran from him. Or worse, they chased him, calling him an omen of death. So he retreated down below the theater and resigned himself to always be a watcher and made a mask to cover his face. 

He was alone for years until he heard young Grillby crying in a corner and sat as close as he dared. It took a while for him to gain the courage to speak to the elemental

Given the fluid nature of his body, it’s easy for him to change his voice to sing. It’s the only part of himself that he can see as holding any worth. 

Grillby was his only source of socialization and he’s terrified of losing him, which makes Phantom a tad bit clingy with some pretty severe separation anxiety 

Phantom is a sad, sad boy who needs a lot of hugs and therapy

Shore is kind to him despite it all (and despite the irritation at the ‘death threats’) 

Phantom finally admits that she was never in any actual danger because he might be a messed up guy but he’s not a murderer. He might have even nudged her out of the way with blue magic a few times to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

Eventually Phantom realizes he no longer wants her to leave. He wants to stand with her and Grillby. He wants to be a better monster but he doesn’t know how to do that so kind of retreats into his lair 

Grillby and Shore have to track him down. And queue the heart to heart, the great Crying Session, the Unmasking or whatever you wanna call it

And they all live an OT3 happy ending, the end

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Okay so Sooga can't cook. But can Master Kohga cook? And would he try to teach Sooga, for a bit of domestic fluff goodness??

Imma make this as fluffy as I can for you, anon! I’m gonna be SUPER busy, so some asks will probably be on the back burner. Having said that, Imma dip into these when I can because you guys have SUCH good ideas?? 

Also It’s not that Sooga can’t cook, he just can’t cook WELL. Stuff is always off with his cooking. Too salty, too sweet, undercooked, SOMETHING. Kohga is picky so he notices. Either way, let’s GO!

“Urbosa! Get over here!”

Kohga (as well as the champions) had been spending all day together in the kitchen (upon prompting from Zelda), and Kohga had more or less commanded the cooking area. When Kohga wasn’t busy killing people or sleeping, he was being a rather pleasant company to have around. He started off by making drinks, and Sooga offered to help. Which was apparently a bit of a mistake. Urbosa sighed as she left the table, and walked behind the counter. Kohga motioned to two cups.

“You try one, and tell me which one has alcohol in it.”

Urbosa tried one, then another, lightly shaking her head.

“One on the left? Right one tastes just like juice.”

Kohga motioned wildly to the cups, as if they made a scientific discovery.

“Ha! See, that’s the thing! BOTH do! Somehow!”

“I...don’t put enough alcohol, that’s the hint I’m getting.”

“No matter how many times I shove MY dick in THAT ass, he makes drinks like a FUCKING virgin! You know what, get a fucking apron on, I’m teaching you how to be competent in the kitchen. You can’t JUST have a top notch cock, you dumbshit.”

Kohga turned around to get them both an apron, and Urbosa chuckled at his puzzled reaction.

“Hey, he does have a point. Everyone should learn how to cook. Besides, him being this upset just means he really loves you.”

“Don’t you DARE make me out to be mushy, Urbosa!”

Kohga walked back up to them, throwing a pink apron at Sooga’s face. Urbosa chuckled as Kohga put his own on. It was clear she was right, but the relationship was still new to him, so he was still in denial of his feelings. Urbosa grabbed one of the drinks (Kohga’s, obviously), and shrugged.

“I’ll just be taking this then, carry on love birds.”

Kohga lifted a finger to retort, before Urbosa turned around and joined Daruk back at the table. Kohga waved her off, muttering something under his breath. Sooga couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re just charming, Master Kohga.”

“Save the sweet for the cooking, tits mcgee.”

Kohga patted his left tit, before going to the sink and washing his hands, Sooga following suit.

“So? What will we be making?”

“Good question. What do you WANT to make?”

“Hmm...what’s something YOU like?”

“Kiss ass.”

Kohga chuckled, drying his hands with a towel. Sooga honestly just lived for Kohga, and it was terribly sweet of him.

“Alright, let’s do crepes with fried bananas.”

Sooga nodded, more than confident enough to prove himself. Kohga dug into the cabinets to grab everything (with help from Sooga. Tall bastard), before Kohga put two bowls in front of them.

“Now, follow me. We’re gonna add a cup of the tabantha flour. Then, a tablespoon of sugar.”

“I always thought it was a cup of both.”

“No wonder you always burn those fuckers- that much sugar burns it, you dumbshit. Now, not everyone does this, but they SHOULD. Add some salt, help balance out. If you think a food doesn’t need SOME salt, you’re wrong.”

Sooga nodded along, carefully listening and following his instructions, as if this was a training session. 

“How did you learn all this?”

“Mom taught me. She loved cooking, but she worked hard, so sometimes she was too tired to cook. When I got older, I ended up doing the cooking around the house. You only get better the more you do it. Except YOUR drinks, you’re hopeless.”

“Like my love for you.”

“Iean down, imma smack you upside the head.”

Sooga chuckled, watching his little master grumble to himself. Kohga took out another bowl, and added milk, as well as an egg.

“Now. You mix the wet and the dry together.”

“Why not just do it all together to begin with?”

“Lumps, you get lots of ‘em if you do that.”

Sooga nodded, watching as Kohga mixed the ingredients in their separate bowls. Sooga could watch Kohga cook all day, if he let him. Sooga copied Kohga as they mixed the dry and wet together, whisking it till it was nice and liquidy.

“It’s supposed to be this liquidy?”

“Yeah, any thicker and it’s a pancake. Now, we’re gonna put this in the fridge for as long as we can, get some flavor out of it.”

“What do we do while we wait?”

Sooga took the bowls, and put them in the fridge, just in time to catch Kohga grabbing bananas and putting them on a cutting board.

“We prep everything else. This should be easy for you. I need you to cut all these in little squares. And listen to me while I show you what I’m doing, but be careful.”

“Afraid I’ll cut myself?”

Sooga grinned as he peeled the bananas, starting to cut. One thing Sooga was VERY good at in the kitchen, was cutting. Always clean, always uniform. Kohga dug into the bag of sugar that he had at his side, and tossed a bit towards Sooga’s apron. Wasteful? A bit, but Sooga’s dumb smile was getting on his nerves.

“If you don’t, at this point I will. Now, I’m gonna throw some butter in this pan, and we’re gonna add the bananas here soon as you’re done. This, and some whipped cream, is gonna be our filling.”

“Doesn’t it burn if it’s hot?”

“If you actually know how it works, no.”

Sooga was careful not to cut himself as he watched Kohga throw butter, sugar, and some spices onto the pan. He watched as the sugar browned slightly, and Kohga motioned for Sooga to pour the fruit in. Once it was inside, Kohga handed him the spatula.

“Now, keep mixing it. Don’t change the temp, don’t let it sit.”

Sooga watched as Kohga grabbed a bag of acorns and chickaloo tree nuts. He cracked them surprisingly effortlessly in his hands, quickly and efficiently separating the shells from the insides. Sooga found it hard to pay attention to the pan, and his Master’s hands. How did hands so soft and lovely make such hard work look so easy?

“Is that going in the batter?”

“No, with the bananas. Adds some crunch, and a little bit of sweet.”

Kohga’s arm pushed against him as he added the nuts to the pan, motioning for Sooga to keep going. 

“Now, this is just how I like it, but we’re gonna add a swig of apple juice. Adds a BIT of tart, because this is going to be sweet as hell. Especially since we’re gonna add a touch of rum, to taste.”

“...Master Kohga?”

“Don’t tell me I lost you already, big guy.”

“Just in your eyes, Master Kohga.”

Kohga looked up at him, and reached his hand up, pushing him away a bit.

“You are SO mushy. No wonder you can’t cook right, you’re too busy ogling me all damn day.”

“You make it quite hard to focus.”

He chuckled. He kept mixing, as he was instructed. Kohga added butter to the pan, shaking his head at Sooga’s stupidity. He was just, such a lovestruck idiot. Once the butter started to lightly bubble, Kohga dug into the fridge, bringing out the batter.

“Okay, let’s start the important part. You can turn that off, cover it with the pot lid. I’m gonna let you do the first one. Three tablespoons into the pan.”

Kohga gave him the proper pouring tool, and Sooga obeyed. He was about to ask what to do next, when Kohga held onto his hand, helping him turn the pan. Sooga could chuckle like a lovesick fool right now, honestly. He really did have nice, soft hands, and Sooga wanted to hold them forever.

“Tilt to get it everywhere. Nice and slow, get it everywhere. Three minutes, then flip. Anymore and it’s like eating a damn ear. Speaking of ears, are you listening?”

“To every word, Master Kohga. Every single, solitary word.”

Kohga turned to look at him, finally seeing why he sounded more stupid than usual. He was SWOONING. Literally looking at him, and SWOONING like an idiot. Kohga scoffed, flipping the crepe for him.

“Alright, then listen to this. See how it’s got a nice, brown crust? We want it kinda crispy.”

Kohga let Sooga ogle him for three minutes, before finally taking it out of the pan, setting it onto a table.

“Taste it.”

“You?”

“W-no, the crepe you dingbat!”

Even Kohga had to chuckle at that. It’s why Kohga never let his ass watch him cook, it was just. All of this. They split the crepe, and Sooga nodded.

“You’re truly wonderful, Master Kohga. It’s lovely.”

“Good. Now, you’re turn, all by yourself.”

Kohga was going to step back, but Sooga’s puppy dog eyes kept him standing right there. Sooga added the batter to the pan, carefully turning the mixture till it coated the whole pan. He waited the three minutes, before flipping it. Kohga nodded in approval.

“Good crust, good crust. Keep it going.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Kohga sat there, watching his Sooga make crepe after crepe, and Kohga couldn’t help but chuckle. He was constantly asking if it was okay, constantly peering over him for approval. Honestly, if Kohga told this man to get him a piece of the moon, Sooga wouldn’t hesitate to reach for the stars. Soon enough, there wasn’t any mix left, in turn, leaving quite a stack of crepes. Kohga flipped through the stack, nodding.

“Better. Though some are a bit darker than others. We’ll work on that. Now, best part.”

Kohga placed one on the plate, added a hefty dollop of cream and honey, then folded it into a nice triangle like shape. Sooga watched him carefully, clearly wanting it to be perfect. Kohga folded another with cream and honey, then another. His usual was three at a time, but he might just have more (to support Sooga of course). He topped it off with the banana mixture, and dusted it with powdered sugar, just to make it look good. Sooga followed his stead, though he didn’t do it so cleanly. Folding it was hard for him apparently, causing him to get whipped cream all over his fingers, and even on his mask. It was a sloppy plate, but it was Sooga’s plate. Kohga shook his head once he saw the state of Sooga.

“For the love of- get over here, idiot.”

Kohga grabbed a hold of his face, wiping the cream off of his mask. Sooga sat there, letting him do so with such loving eyes. It was totally gross, in a sweet way.

“Master Kohga?”

“If the question is ‘am I an idiot’, then absolutely.”

Sooga chuckled, lightly shaking his head.

“I just...thank you. I enjoy listening to you when you teach. You love what you do, and there’s something so absolutely beautiful about that.”

“Yeah yeah...well. I like teaching you. You’re eager to learn.”

“I’m eager for YOU, Master Kohga.”

“Well geez Sooga, I know I’m pretty sweet, but-”

Before Kohga could finish his retort, Sooga suddenly lifted him off the floor, lifting their masks up a bit, and kissing him, right in his gorgeous lips. Was it a bit much, nearly throwing Kohga onto the counter and leering over him to kiss him? Absolutely, but neither seemed to care in the slightest. Just for a minute, they were there in an embrace, as sweet as sweet could be. Totally ignoring the table of people just a few feet away. Daruk lightly coughed, trying to ignore the fact that Sooga’s tight grip on his Master’s ass was smearing whipped cream everywhere.

“I...don’t think we’re gonna be eatin’ anything any time soon.”

[missshezz]

Continuing with the Harley Quinn theme, today’s reading is:

Mad Love is the definitive comic in Harley Quinn’s origins. Both this comic and the animated episode it is taken from are heavily adored by fans and often referenced when people talk about the character. It shows the toxic nature of the relationship between Harley and the Joker, how she does everything to please him and he still basically abuses her.

Now, I read this before Harleen so I can appreciate this comic for what it is but I have to admit that I like the cleaner nature of Harleen. You get more of a sense of who Harley is in Harleen. She’s not just some dingbat who became obsessed with her patient. She was someone who was systematically manipulated to become that dingbat by a master manipulator. This comic does a good job at setting the groundwork for Harleen, covering her reflective nature after the Joker rejects her seductive attempts, and how she became his “Harls.” Of course, in Harley fashion, she sees everything as being Batman’s fault and decides to please her “puddin’” by proving she can tell as good a joke.

Worth reading for any Harley fan as it is a classic and establishes the character we know and love. 5/5

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 4

I post a new chapter every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday!

Warning: implied smut

Word Count: 4,806

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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CHAPTER FOUR

“If you two don’t stop eye fucking I’m gonna have to call HR,” Andy whispered with a smile in Zoey’s ear, hip checking her as he passed.

Zoey forced her eyes off of Brett from the other side of the bar and felt around her chin to make sure she hadn’t drooled. Two weeks had passed since they had slept together and the sexual tension between them only seemed to grow. Flirting only barely seemed to get her by and Andy consistently pointed out that she was staring again.

“Why don’t you just fuck in the storage room and be done with it? Y'all are making me horny just looking at you two,” Andy dumped ice into a shaker and started mixing a drink for a patron.

Zoey finished weighing out the last of the liquor for inventory and looked at him incredulously, “Why would you put that in my head? Do you think anyone would notice?”

Andy stopped what he was doing and stared at her in disbelief before rolling his eyes dramatically and finished the cocktail. She had gotten her set schedule after the first week, having the same schedule as Andy and work overlapping typically by the second half of Brett’s shift, except Mondays. Mondays were her only early shift day with Brett, ending at 9 PM, and were usually slow, so the night seemed to drag. Luckily, with her new schedule she’d be off Tuesdays and Wednesdays and she works late shift the rest of the week which means more patrons and more tips. And since she worked at a high end bar, most people tended to tip really well. A little cleavage helped, too.

The only downside to working nights was that no one was really home during the day. The only time the girls had was around dinner to catch up and chat, and they had weekends during the day time if no one made plans. But, Aurora’s been really busy with photo and video shoots, interviews, and meetings, and even though Nancy didn’t work a typical nine to five office job, she was still really busy piecing her work together in her room or out of the apartment for a meeting or to prepare fo some kind of deadline with her manager. 

Luckily, her hours matched up with Harry’s schedule pretty well, even though he was on the other side of the country. At night, he obviously had a show to perform, usually while Zoey was at work, but the rest of his day typically consisted of either traveling, small meetings with his tour team, rehearsing, or all three. Still, he always found time to respond to her texts.

Their friendship was strange because they’ve only known each other for two weeks (three if you count the one day they spoke when she first moved in), but it feels like it’s been much longer. She often had to remind herself that he doesn’t know her family and never met Michael, Katie, or Jess whenever they talk about her home life, which was often.

At least once a day, without fail, Harry would ask her to tell him more about Jess, or a memory that she was fond of growing up. The questions always came at the perfect time and he seemed genuinely interested to hear what she had to say, engaging in the conversation. It helped Zoey to talk about Jess - it made her feel as though her best friend’s memory wasn’t fading. That someone cared enough to learn and talk about her in a positive way.

A brief phone call with her family made her realize this when her mom started crying that she missed Zoey and compared her daughter moving across the country to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis losing their daughter in a car accident; that she doesn’t get to see her anymore. Zoey knew she didn’t mean for it to be so insensitive, but her mom got an earful after that. 

During a text conversation with her little sister, Katie, Zoey was filling her in on her outings with her new friends and a simple ‘you deserve to have nice friends again. Jess would have wanted it. I’m happy for you.’ made her bawl, though she’d never tell Katie that. Instead, she ran to Harry to talk about it.

She noticed during one of their chats the week prior that Harry was the only person she’d talk to about Jess without crying. And to prove her point, she had a quick catch up with Michael, and just the memory of the three of them together made her get emotional. It could have been because Harry didn’t know her personally, or because he’s been through similar situations, but she was grateful for the opportunity to involve Jess in a conversation without sobbing by the end of it. 

Herself and Harry had started doing this thing where every time they were being hard on themselves or feeling particularly down, they’d send each other a GIF, video link, or text of a random quote from ‘The Princess Bride’, which always seemed to keep them in check.

Brett started making his way over to her and she hastily got back to work, having some banter with a few of her regulars and grabbing them another glass of beer when she felt a firm hand on her lower back. She drew her attention upwards to Brett who grinned at the men and charmingly joked, “Hello, men. Zoey treating you alright?”

“As always,” they nodded, holding up their newly filled glasses, “She’s our favorite server here.”

“They’re only saying that because I give them beer and let them talk shit,” Zoey smiled at them, shooting them a friendly wink.

“See what I mean? Can’t ask for much else,” one of the men laughed.

Andy overheard the conversation and in passing added a, “she’s just an angel, isn’t she?”

But the men must not have picked up on the sarcasm because they responded, “Yes, she is! Makes no sense why you’re single.”

“Relationships?” Zoey fed into them, “No way. I just got out of a four year relationship. I don’t need to be trapped again so soon.”

It’s not that she didn’t enjoy her relationship with Michael. She did, and he was a lovely guy. It was just her way of communicating with her patrons; by mirroring and matching. It’s how she was able to bond and build relationships so quickly, especially with her regulars. These two in particular loved to talk shit on their wives, so Zoey found ways to add to the conversation without antagonizing the subject. And her favorite trick when having these conversations was to turn their mindset around before they left. Little things to make them ease up on their spouse. Something along the lines of ‘That’s a nice shirt. Did your wife get it for you? She’s got great taste, you look amazing in that!’ or ‘Your wife made you spaghetti for dinner? Lucky guy, I don’t know many women who know how to cook anymore’. Usually little white lies like that made them feel better about their wives without her actually having to say ‘shut the hell up and be nice to your wife, you old dingbat’ and she usually got better tips by the time they left.

The men raised their glasses in agreement to her statement and Brett turned his head to the side, wordlessly asking if he could borrow her for a moment. They stepped towards the back of the bar, doing a quick once over to make sure Andy didn’t need more assistance before he leant against the edge of the counter cooly and asked, “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. Your shift ends at 9 PM, too, right?” she asked, earning a nod. She continued, “Okay, everyone else will probably take a little longer to get there. Jake and Melissa are gonna be picking up some food, and Andy left a few things at his apartment he needed to grab. So you can always head over with me after work, or meet me there later.”

Nancy had flown back home over the weekend to celebrate her friend’s wedding and spend time with family, and Aurora had gone to Virginia for a shoot where Harry was coincidentally doing a show in the town over which allowed her an opportunity to see him in concert and spend some time with him before he left for the next city in the morning, so Zoey used the empty condo as an opportunity to invite some new friends over for a game night, with her roommates knowledge, of course. All of her friends worked with her on rotating days, so they were used to the hours.

“I’ll just go with you. It’ll be easier that way,” he said casually before his lips twitched upwards, “You know, if you wanted alone time with me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up,” Zoey giggled, playfully hitting his chest.

The rest of their shift steadily got more quiet, slowing out to only six patrons in the bar by the time their shift was over. Andy, Brett, and Zoey clocked out and headed towards the employee parking lot around back. 

“I’ll call you when I’m five minutes away. You better not miss my call to let me in ‘cuz y’all are busy humpin’ on the kitchen counter,” Andy shook a key at them with an eyebrow raised, causing the two to laugh.

“I don’t screw where the food goes,” Brett responded, “but the couch is a different story.”

“Nasty,” Andy scrunched his nose at them before getting in his car and starting it up.

Zoey led Brett to her car, slipping into the driver's seat as he rounded to the passenger side. A few stray hairs had fallen from her messy ponytail and she smoothed them back, turning the AC on low fan. Evenings in May seemed to be fairly cool in LA so far. The stereo bluetooth automatically connected to Zoey’s phone and began playing ‘Are You Bored Yet’ by Wallows, which startled her, quickly turning down the volume. Being in such a confined space with Brett made her nervous. He had a distinct smell of beer and coconuts, which seemed like an odd mix, but somehow it worked. She could really stand a few shots right now to ease the tension. Too bad she was driving.

“So what’s the deal with your roommates? They out?” Brett asked as they pulled onto the freeway.

“Yeah, Nancy’s with her family and Rory is in Virginia for work. She might actually be with Harry right now, though,” she noticed the time, doing quick math and realizing it was Midnight on the east coast and Harry was probably done with his show by now, remembering he said he had some kind of after party planned with a few of his band mates and tour members, which she thought was weird for a Monday night.

“Wild that you’re all friends with him. But it seems like everyone knows everyone in LA, so I shouldn’t be surprised. So what’s his deal? Are they dating?”

When he put it that way, she did find it a little crazy. She never put too much thought into the fact that she knew Harry Styles, let alone was on a friendly communicating basis with him. She supposed it was just because of the timing when they met, she wasn’t in the right headspace, so by the time they started getting close, the shock and exposure to him had already sunk in and didn’t seem new.

“Uh...kinda? I don’t know, it’s complicated,” Zoey responded. 

And it was true. She honestly had no clue what was going on between Harry and Rory. Honestly, she didn’t even think they knew what was going on with each other. She couldn’t blame them, though. They were both super busy at the moment and their hangout today would only make it a total of five times they’ve seen each other in person. She wasn’t even sure if they had an actual date yet or not.

Brett nodded and a moment of silence filled the car. She felt him staring at her and he shifted his body towards her letting his elbow rest on the center console, his muscular arms so big that they lightly brushed against hers. She did a triple take, the pull of his gaze too strong to ignore, “What?” she asked, putting a hand on her cheek to conceal her blushing.

“You should go on a date with me.”

“What?” she sputtered. He was so straightforward and his confidence in his statement took her off guard. Brett was about to repeat himself when it clicked and she said, “I can’t go on a date with you.”

“Why not? Was I that bad in bed?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” she joked. Brett gasped in mock disappointment and she continued, shaking her head, “We work together. I don’t want things to get sticky at work. Besides, I was serious with what I said tonight. I just got out of a four year relationship. I’m not ready to jump into another one right now. Especially not the first guy I sleep with.”

“It’s a date, Zoey. Not a marriage proposal. We can keep it casual if you want. I just like spending time with you, that’s all. Please? Just one date.”

Zoey paused in contemplation. The idea of keeping things casual with Brett did sound appealing. It reminded her of Nancy and Cade’s situation, almost like a friend’s with benefits. No strings attached. She wasn’t opposed to it. If only Jess were here right now to see a sexy Australian man begging to go on a date with her. Twenty five years in Pennsylvania and she barely turned heads, but a week in LA and she’s getting hit on daily by successful, attractive men and her sexy foreign coworker? The move and personality upgrade was really working out for her and she was kicking herself for not listening to Jess sooner.

“I don’t know...”

“If it’ll make you feel more comfortable we can do a double date with someone. Andy and whoever. Or even Rory and Harry. Whoever you want.”

Zoey pursed her lips in contemplation, “Okay, I’ll think about it.” He smiled widely and Zoey quickly added, “Don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Good enough for me,” Brett said, a smirk spreading across his face, “So what are the odds of me getting you back in that bed tonight?”

“Slim to none,” she snorted.

“...So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

Once at her condo, Brett took a seat at one end of the sectional while Zoey quickly straightened up and drug out a few games from Nancy’s stash, with her blessing. It didn’t take long for Jake and Melissa to show up with a few two liters of soda, three boxes of pizza, and some wings for everyone to enjoy, and as soon as Andy arrived, twenty minutes later, they all dug in while catching up and joking about different work related instances.

They were in the middle of trying to decide if they wanted to play ‘5 Second Rule’ or ‘Incoherent’ when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She struggled to pull it out of her tight black pants and saw a text from Harry. Opening it, she saw a GIF of Princess Bride with the quote that read ‘Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something’.

Zoey snorted, typing back, ‘Okay, melodramatic. What happened? Didn’t get a big enough crowd at the concert tonight?’

She placed her phone face down on her thigh and laughed at Andy who was mocking Brett’s accent because he didn’t want to play ‘5 Second Rule’, which Brett was fighting hard for, listing all the pros and cons to the game. Her phone buzzed again, once, twice, and on the third buzz she got confused, thinking he was sending her rapid texts at first, only to turn the phone over and see that Harry was calling her. She hadn’t expected a call from him, and they never spoke over the phone with each other before like he did with Nancy and Rory. Her friends realized she had gotten a phone call and turned to look at her as she stood up.

“One sec,” she called, heading down the hall.

“Hurry! I need you to back me up so we don’t have to start out with this stressful, dumbass game!” Andy called after her.

She heard Brett quickly retort, “You just don’t like it cuz you can’t think quickly!” and a cracking noise that sounded almost like a slap before slipping into her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

Warily, she answered the phone and whispered, “Hello?”

Harry’s deep, exhausted voice sounded through her phone, dramatically quoting another line from Princess Bride, saying, “Fezzik! Listen! Do you hear? That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when Rugen slaughtered my father.”

She laughed, pacing the length of her room, her brief feeling of shock being replaced with curiosity. “What could possibly have gone wrong at…” she checked the clock and quickly converted the time difference on the east coast, “Almost 2 AM? Where’s Rory?”

Harry groaned, “We got into a fight.”

“Well...did you do something stupid?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal at first, but it turned into one apparently.”

The more he spoke and the more she heard his voice, the more it started to hit her who she was talking to. She wasn’t a huge follower of his, but she was a fan enough to have heard him speak in videos and interviews that to be able to have these kinds of conversations with him and it be normal knowing that they were friends was hard to wrap her head around. Even so, hearing his voice over her phone wasn’t as startling as she thought it should be. In fact, it felt more calming than anything else.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Well, after the show, Rory came backstage and I was introducing her to some people and said, ‘This is my friend, Rory’....”

“....Okay?” Zoey urged, waiting for him to continue. But he didn’t.

“See?! It wasn’t a big deal! But she got upset that I called her my friend and was being sort of quiet and when I asked if she was okay she just kind of went off asking me how I could introduce her as a friend after we just had sex and after I flew out to see her twice, and accused me of leading her on and all this stuff.”

Zoey listened, continuing to pace the room as Harry ranted. When he finished, she cleared her throat and spoke carefully, “Well...Harry, she’s not entirely wrong.”

“You think I was leading her on?!” Harry sounded more hurt than offended. “I just introduced her as my friend and she got mad. I wasn’t lying. She’s not my girlfriend. What else was I supposed to say?”

“Exactly. She’s not your girlfriend. And who’s fault is that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, you know she likes you. And you obviously like her, too. I mean why else would you fly across the country to spend one day with a person…”

“I do it all the time,” he defended himself.

“Okay, Mr. Perfect. The point is, you two already act like a couple. You talk almost every day. You’re not seeing anyone else but each other - at least, as far as I’m aware. Don’t you think it’s possible that she’s been waiting for you to ask her out and make it official, and by you introducing her as a ‘friend’, you could have just invalidated her entire impression of your relationship and where it was headed?”

Harry sighed, and after a moment to process he breathed, “I didn’t mean to invalidate her feelings. And it’s not like I don’t want to date Rory. We talk all the time, yeah, but I still don’t know her that well and I didn’t ask her to not see anyone else. We haven’t even been on a date yet. Plus, I just don’t want to start a relationship in the middle of tour when I have two months left. I’ve been doing this enough to know that travel can really hurt a relationship. Most people can’t deal with the distance and time restraints. Maybe if she’s still interested by the time the tour is over, then we can maybe talk about making things official. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Trust me, I get it. But did you tell her that?”

“No.”

“Well you need to tell her something so she doesn’t feel like she’s wasting her time. Don’t just leave her hanging like that.”

“I can’t ask her to wait for me. That’s not right. I want her to do it because she wants to, not because I’m dangling the promise of a possibility over her head.”

Zoey pursed her lips, understanding what he was saying while rummaging through her dresser for pajamas to change into, “Just tell her that you’re sorry and you understand where she’s coming from, but that you don’t want to rush things, especially while you’re in the middle of touring, and if she’s okay with it, the two of you can just take things one day at a time and you just want to get to know her more for now. Just be honest with her, Harry. Give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s a very understanding person.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That sounds good,” Harry responded, the words clicking in his head.

A knock on the door startled her and Andy’s muffled voice echoed through the crack, “I got them to agree on ‘Incoherent’ first, so hurry the hell up!”

“Be right there!” Zoey called back.

A gasp was heard from her phone as Harry muttered, “Shit! I forgot you were doing game night tonight. I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s fine. It only just started. There’s not many of us.”

“Is Theo there?” Harry quipped, the nickname Harry gave Brett made her laugh. Ever since he mentioned that Brett looked like Theo James from Divergent, she wasn’t able to unsee it.

“Yeah, he’s here,” she giggled, quickly changing out of her work clothes and into some sweats, fixing her ponytail.

“What’s going on with you two anyway?” Harry asked, “Are you dating, or just flirting still?”

“Funny you should mention that. He asked me on a date earlier.”

“Really? You gonna go?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t want anything serious right now, but he says we can keep it casual.”

“So...friends with benefits?” Harry pressed.

“That’s why I’m not sure. I don’t know how I feel about it, especially with someone I work with. But it’s only one date. I guess I could see how it goes. He did say that we could go on a double date if I’d feel more comfortable and suggested you and Rory. But I know your schedule’s gotta be insane with the tour and you’ve already flown back enough times.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m actually off for three days next week. I had plans Tuesday morning, but I could probably fly out right afterwards and head back Thursday. So maybe Wednesday night we could all go out?”

“Really? You don’t have to if it’ll be too much for you.”

“No, I want to. I told you, I do it all the time. My team will hate me, but oh well. It’ll be fun. I should probably go fix things with Rory first, though.”

Zoey laughed, “Good idea. Good luck.”

They each said goodbye and Zoey threw her phone on the charger before making her way back out to the living room. She took her spot back next to Andy and she smiled, excited to start the game with her friends. She felt proud of herself as she took in the scene, seeing her small group of friends laughing and joking together. She felt like she was finally starting to build the life she always wanted for herself. She never had this many people who she genuinely cared for and that cared for her in return. Sure, she had Jess and Michael, but that was really it. Zoey was finally creating a little family away from her family and it felt good.

After a few more games, everyone was beginning to get tired so the group decided to settle down with a movie. Zoey had dozed off, her head resting on Andy’s lap with her body curled into a ball. When she stirred awake it was nearly 3 AM and she noticed everyone else had passed out. Brett was in the corner and Jake and Melissa were cuddling on the other end. Her mouth was dry and tasted of cotton. Carefully, trying not to wake Andy, she slipped off of the couch and tiptoed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

The blue light on the fridge dispenser illuminated as a steady stream of water poured into her glass. It looked so clear and refreshing that her mouth started salivating at the thought of it when she heard a shuffle behind her. She jumped, turning to see Brett padding his way in, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Jesus!” she clutched her chest again. How was she so easily scared?

He ignored her shock. “Can I have one?”

Zoey passed him the glass she had just poured and grabbed another glass for herself, filling it up with water. Brett gulped it down and let out a breath of air when he finished it before she had even raised her cup to her lips. She raised an eyebrow, sipping at the water.

“Tonight was fun, huh?” he asked in a low voice, leaning against the counter.

Zoey nodded, putting her half drunk glass of water down, “Yeah, thanks for coming.”

“We should do game nights more often. Nancy and Rory can join next time, too.”

“They’d love that,” Zoey agreed, taking another sip of water.

After a moment of silence, Brett spoke up again, “So...have time to think about that date yet?”

The water went down the wrong pipe and she struggled trying not to make a scene of choking, holding it in. But her eyes water as she spoke, “Yeah, uhm,” she caved and cleared her throat, continuing, “Yeah, I actually talked to Harry. He’s the one that called earlier, and he said he was down to do a double date next Wednesday, if that’s okay.”

It was hard to look at Brett when he smirked like that. He must have pulled so many girls by that look. Actually, she KNEW he pulled so many girls by that look from the amount of numbers he got at the bar. And honestly, she didn’t mind. It’s not like she saw a future with him. But he was hot and she trusted Brett enough to have a little fun with him.

Jess’ words kept replaying in her mind, again. ‘It’s fun not having strings attached’ and ‘Have fun, but be safe.’ Zoey thought about those exact words every day since she last had sex with Brett and how right her friend was. It’s not that she needed to have sex, but the liberation she felt by just being able to have sex with who she wanted and when she wanted was something so incredibly exhilarating and indescribable. She knew that a commitment was never a requirement to have sex, and she was reminded of this often by Jess, but it took her best friend dying and her moving across the country to really understand that. And to see Nancy, her kind, fun, carefree roommate, doing what she wanted to do and not worrying about what others might think really broadened her outlook on sex and intimacy.

Brett’s mouth was moving, and she knew he was talking, but Zoey couldn’t hear a damn thing. All she could pay attention to was his dark, mysterious eyes and his juicy, plump lips and how badly she wanted to taste them. Fuck it, she thought, grabbing him by the shirt and standing on her tiptoes to smash her lips onto his. He flinched, shocked by her abruptness, but quickly pulled her closer to his solid chest. When she finally pushed away from him, her heart pounded and her lips were already damp from his. Zoey could feel her body tingling from her knees up to her eyes as she craved someone, anyone’s touch. Brett could be enough for now.  

“Let’s go,” she urged, looking up at him through her eyelashes. 

Still stunned and unable to find the words to say, Brett nodded, mouth still agap, as she led him towards her bedroom.

KEEP READING

Let Me Know What You Think

[under-the-blue-sun]

blankets, coffees and afternoon naps

summary: Blankets, coffee and afternoon naps have become the new normal.

word count: 1217

rating: general audiences

warnings: profanity

note: just a collection of domestic moments between dan and phil during quarantine written for @stupidity-to-the-max for phandomgives. enjoy ♡

read on ao3

Blankets, coffee and afternoon naps have become the new normal.

Dan sighed fondly as he looked down at Phil sprawled across the couch. He had a bet with Dan that he would stay awake, but he was already fast asleep and fully relaxed, head resting on Dan’s lap, a thousand pillows burying him into the couch. He smiled faintly as he noticed Phil was wearing the mismatching socks he had given him for his 29th birthday. 

As if awoken by Dan’s thoughts, Phil blinked, slowly opening his eyes. 

“Hey.” Dan whispered softly.

“Hey.” Phil murmured, rubbing his eyes as he sat up from Dan’s lap, almost knocking over his half-full coffee mug. “How long was I out?”

“Only half an hour.” Dan said, suddenly shivering as Phil quickly left his legs, grasping his lukewarm coffee cup to conjure some warmth. “Now you have to take the garbage out.”

Phil groaned. “But Mellie is taking it out today, and I already had to deal with her two weeks ago.”

“You shouldn’t have bet on it.” Dan said, smirking arrogantly.

Phil buried his face in Dan’s lap again.

“Bitch.” he called out, muffled.

“Yeah, yeah. Now go back to sleep.”

-

“How do you deal with blocks?”

Phil frowned in confusion and looked up from his laptop, observing the source of the noise across him who was slamming his head on the table. “Blocks?”

“Yes!” Dan called out, exasperated. “Blocks.”

“Like chocolate blocks?” Phil joked, enjoying the annoyance continuing to write all over Dan’s face.

Dan sighed. “I meant like writer’s block.”

“Oh.” Phil said, shrugging and returning to type. “I don’t know. Write about...your mum.”

Dan squinted at him. “You write. How do you cure writer’s block?”

“Well, it’s gonna sound cheesy.”

“Tell me.” Dan said immediately.

Phil stopped typing and looked up, smiling softly. “I write about you.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“It’s true!” Phil exclaimed. “You always give me inspiration to write. there’s so much to write about you.”

“Like what?”

“Well, how you’re kind and soft, even if you pretend not to be, and that you give the best advice, and the best kisses, and you make the best Indian food on this apartment floor, and- you’re just fishing for compliments now.”

“Yup.” Dan said, grinning widely. “I know just what to write about now.”

-

“I think Norman hates me.”

Dan sighed. “You said that five minutes ago, Phil. He is literally a fish. He does not hate you.”

“Yeah, but...seriously. What if he does?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head. “It’s 3am, Phil. You’re going delusional.”

“I know, but still.” Phil said. “What if I’m feeding him and caring about him and having anxiety dreams about him and he doesn’t care about me at all?”

“Go to sleep.” Dan said.

“But you’re awake!” Phil exclaimed.

“I’m turning the lamp off now.” Dan said, and he did. He closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

“Good night.” Phil whispered softly.

Dan smiled slightly. “Good night. Norman loves you.”

---

“See? I told you! I fucking told you!”

Phil slammed his head on the cards. “This game is too complicated.”

“No, look at me! Look at me!” Dan shouted, grabbing Phil’s event card and waving it around. “I told you that this was too easy! You can’t just fucking airlift people and send them to different countries! It’s not how the game works! It’s not how any game works!”

“Who cares?” Phil yelled. “I saved the world anyway!”

“Illegally, you dingbat!” Dan said. “We’re playing it again.”

“This is the fifth time.” Phil said.

“I don’t care how many times we’re playing this, we need to get it right.” Dan seethed, already setting up the board again.

-

“Well, this isn’t perfect, but…”

“I love it.” Dan said, eyes shining. 

“Yeah?” Phil said hopefully.

“Yeah.” Dan affirmed, smiling brightly and looking around the dark room filled with candles. He smelt the air.

“You even put my favourite scented candles. I thought we were out of them.”

“I ordered some online.” Phil said. 

Dan put his hand over his heart. “Oh my god, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Phil beamed. “You look good tonight.”

“You too.” Dan said, taking a seat. “So, Mr Lester, what do we have tonight?”

“I have made three courses for you - appetizers, main and dessert. And bread, if that counts as a course.” Phil said. He hesitated before continuing, glancing at Dan’s lightly lit face.

“Go on.” Dan whispered, urging him to go on.

“Okay, so for the entree I made a beef carpaccio with avocado and walnuts, seasoned with salt and pepper. For main we have polish pork and cabbage stew with fresh marjoram with a side of fava bean salad with goat's cheese. Lastly, for dessert I made rhubarb tart with pistachio ice cream, and an attempt of Japanese mochi. All of this is with the non-burnt homemade sourdough bread I made last week, and butter from Sainsbury.” Phil said. “I hope you like it.”

“God, Phil. You did so much.” Dan said. “You didn’t have to do that much.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to. You’re worth it.” Phil said.

“I don’t know what to say.” Dan breathed.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Phil said, smiling softly. “It was nothing.”

Dan looked at Phil directly. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Phil grinned. “I love you too. I’ll bring out the food now.”

“Chef, waiter and boyfriend. How much do I have to tip you tonight?” Dan teased.

“You’re my tip for tonight.” Phil said, kissing Dan’s forehead.

“We’re gross, aren’t we?” Dan called out as Phil got their appetizers and bread.

“Definitely.” Phil shouted back. “It’s great.”

-

“In summary, if you try to rap one more time, I will literally cry.” Phil finished.

“What are you talking about?” Dan said, still speaking into the faux microphone. “I sounded great.”

“I rate that performance a -8/10.” Phil said.

Dan pouted. “You’re so mean.”

“You barely said one quarter of the words in that song.”

“A for effort?”

“F for failure.”

“Fine, I rate your Britney a 0.”

“You already rated an 11! You’re not allowed to change it!”

“Since when? Hit Me Baby One More Time? More like “Hit Me Baby Zero More Times Because Phil Is So Bad At Singing It”.” Dan said, changing the song already.

Phil rolled his eyes. “You think you’re so funny.”

“Oh, you love me, shut up.” Dan said, getting read to rap into the microphone.

-

“You left your coffee in the microwave.” Phil yelled.

“Just heat it up again and give it back to me.” Dan yelled back, eyes refusing to leave the computer and fingers fervently glued to the keyboard. 

“Here you go.” Phil said, smiling as he put the lukewarm cup on the counter next to Dan. “How’s your writing going?”

“Good.” Dan said, continuing to type.

“Fixed your block?” Phil asked, sitting on the couch next to him.

“Yep.” Dan said, shutting his laptop. “Thanks for the advice.”

“What advice?” Phil asked.

“You.” Dan replied, adjusting the blanket hanging over his legs to share with the very confused Phil. “Let’s see if you manage to stay awake through this episode.”

Blankets, coffee and afternoon naps, they decided, were the best kind of normal.

[weaselbeaselpants]

That Krispy Cat: A Warning, part 3

The last of the images cause I don’t want this bitch on my computer anymore. 

Knowing tumblr I kept the images hidden JUUUUST in case no one reads the fine print and can’t tell I’m being critical of this and gets me in trouble.

VVV ((Just in case you thought the JewishGriffon piece assured everyone that Crispy couldn’t POSSIBLY hate people of color, some of her earliest Nazi art had her character Klaus beating up Amigo Bear. She also made Amigo into a liberal strawman. )) VVV

((Dialogue to one of her TROLLARIOUS pictures that featured Amigo:

Amigo Bear: *muttering* "Your leader was a !@#$% little #@%^!@$^*!, you fascist feather duster..." General Klaus: "Fräulein, Ich vant you to cover your ears und shut your eyes as tight as you can." Crispy: "How come, General?" General Klaus: "Klaus ist about to say und do very bad sings zhat he does not vant his little Edelweiß to see or hear." Crispy: "Alrighty!" General Klaus: "WHO SAID ZHAT ABOUT DER FÜHRER? WER DIE FICK GESAGT? WHO'S ZUH SCHLEIMIG LITTLE COMMUNIST-SCHEISS SCHWANZLUTSCHER DOWN ZHERE, WHO JUST SIGNED HIS OWN DEATH VARRANT? NIEMAND?! GOTTVERDAMMT STALIN SAID IT! HERVORRAGEND! VHICH VUN OF YOU VANTS TO BE ZUH FIRST TO FIND OUT ZUH HARD VAY VHY MEIN FEINDE CALLED MIR DER BUTCHER BIRD?" ))

^^^ ((BUTOPHERARTISGOODSOYOUCAN’TCOMPLAIN

also the disc. for this pic before it was deleted had a ‘joke’ about cooking Jews in ovens. Oh and yes, that IS Hitler she’s giving that ugly ass cupcake too.))

^^^ (( - Thanks dA I never would have known I had a notifications unless eclipse blah -

This is one of her rants about how #Triggered she is that Starlight be compared to the Nazis when she runs a communist cult. Because A) that’s the real problem here and B) I too get upset when people say my OC is based on Jeffrey Dahmer when he’s so CLEARLY based on Ed Gein, Bwwwaaaah D> D> D> !)) ^^^

VVV ((Ugly art of her friend’s awful OCs.)) ^^^

VVV ((Crispy showing off why no one wants to be a patriot in our country.)) VVV

((FYI, Crisp, that attitude will make the Hamilton fans stronger so just keep that SJW-flinging coming you little SJW.

WHAT?! Social Justice is a broad term and as Crispy’s plainly demonstrated, you can circle it around and make a majority-class sound like the real underprivledged if you have enough fancy frou frou know-how and furries. Also, if a Social Justice Warrior constitutes someone who takes their cause soooo seriously that they’re annoying/petting/cruel/stupid about it....idk I think Crispy qualified.))

^^^ ((Crispy and her friend muse about what other races occupy the world of MLP in her headcanon. This, more than any other dA disc. and picture shows you her brand of “Segregationist-Nationalism is OKAY” thinking, cuz the art of these different races isn’t super offensive or cruel and neither are the characters. BUT if you scratch under the surface you’ll find that Crispy really likes these different people staying in their place and not in “someone else’s” country.

THEN, this same kind of thinking is used to convince you any mix of cultures is just cultural appropriation, again acting like she and her Nazi-stans are the only ones standing up to actual bigotry.)) VVV

^^^ ((Crispy makes the world a worse place by bringing up actual decent points; like how Americans dress Thanksgiving up as progressive and for the natives when we all know that’s not true...all to better her worldview.

fyi, GET OUT whenever you see a selfproclaimed Nazi fawn over Native Americans, because: Nazi Germany had a deep fascination with American Indians and used their struggles about their land being taken away from them to justify their eugenic genocide.)) ^^^

^^^ (( Crispy laughing it up on Furaffinity how she couldn’t be banned from her Furaffinity and then mysteriously never using her site there wowie.)) ^^^

^^^ (( Crispy complaining about SOPA cause her freedom of speech and blahblahblah.

Freedom of Speech is important. Unfortunately what people like Crispy don’t understand or care for is there’s no freedom of consequence. )) vvv

VVV ((LOL Joseph Mengele was such a stinkah let’s tell blithe jokes about him. At least WE AREN’T LIKE HIM!!!)) VVVV

VVV ((Early onset eugenic BS from her Spyro stuff that would be easy to miss if you didn’t know what this woman was talking about)) VVV

((Crispy admitting she thinks gays are pointless cuz they don’t reproduce but apparently loves them anyway. Also big shock Crispy’s seen Hetalia.)) VVV

VVV ((Crispy probably wanting Weeaboos to attack her cuz aren’t Japan’s animations so laaaaaaazy?!!?!? GUUdd think’ I’m a naziaboo! Germany’s never made any shitty animation evah. You know what, I lied. She doesn’t deserve Hetalia. She just doesn’t.)) VVVV

VVV ((Crispy dragging Brazil down with her as the apparent “Best South American Country”. Yikes.)) VVV

VVV ((More “it’s trolling ergo it’s not harmful” shit. Bulgarians probably do deserve their own Care Bears, but they certainly don’t want yours Crispy.)) VVV

VVV ((Disc. for her Richard Spencer bear art)) VVV

------

I know, I know...this isn’t what you wanted to read today, guys. I know it’s offensive and I’m sorry if it made you ill. I also know I’m putting my own blog under fire by showing these images here but I think that should say something about dA’s bad policies that this art gets a filter slapped on it and nothing more when the artist is blatantly pro-fascist.

Crispy resonates with me so much - and no it’s not cause I DARED to be “triggered”.

It’s because, for one, she was talented. I MEAN I HAVE EYES! That’s some nicely drawn digital stuff I’m not gonna deny. She had some cool rewrites and sequel ideas that, had it come from someone else I would have eaten up and faved to hell and back onceupona2012. But I didn’t, where a ton of MLP and furry fans did because they undervalued their own talents and would say “well it’s pretty who cares about the message?” 

Unlike so many commercial+published artists, it’s REALLY hard to separate the art from the artist here because the artist is so connected and a part of her art and storytelling. If you fav her art, even if you didn’t like her, that was telling Crispy she’d won. It’s so defeating to have other artists say their gonna ignore their gut for the sake of prettypretty-Don-Bluth style art. And yes, that stigma DOES affect my view on 2D purists btw.

Crispy was so holier than thou’, and that attitude also was appealing to dA folks, not to mention her knowledge of art history by the time she dropped off the radar. Crispy was the kind of person who’d make long, detailed, justified rants against the design and color choices in Hazbin Hotel and then a bunch of antis would eat her redesigns up only to learn the awful truth later and embarrass themselves cuz they were so taken up by the craft they didn’t know they were reblogging a fucking Nazi.

Not to underplay Viv’s wrongdoings of course, but I’m sorry; the two aren’t comparable on the problematic artist meter. THAT’S HOW BAD CRISPY WAS.

If this somehow was just a faze and she’s come to her senses or doesn’t really think this shite she preaches...I don’t care. She said some vile shit and fuck no I’m not forgiving her. It’s like KenDraw or Shadman. You’ve changed your life around and realized you’ve done/drawn nasty shit that’s done real harm? Cool....I’m still not talking or ever promoting you, ya dingbat. You ain’t no Roman Polanski or Doug Tennaple. You’re a singular internet artist and any support of the project has to go to you - and you suck!

ThisCrispyKat was a wakeup call that showed me these people not only still exist but will be allowed to get away with it. I was very touchy bout this kind of thing back in the day. Fuck, I STILL AM TOUCHY. The rabbit holes I found thanks to Crispy opened up to reveal communities where people think my hair color’s going extinct. People would detail how much they wanted to rape me - a natural blonde - and kill my friends and family for not looking like me. That they want to jerk off in my naturally curly hair and see me in glowy German princess gowns preparing them dinner.

Crispy and other Nazistans would look at me; a blond-haired blue eyed Polish/German American woman and think I need to be “fixed” because I DARE to repeat propaganda that the Nazis were bad. They’d call me a traitor for thinking that celebrating the Nazi party ISN’T German pride.

HOW DARE YOU TELL ME THAT’S GERMAN PRIDE! I’LL SHOW YOU GERMAN PRIDE YOU EGOSTROKING-LIMPDICKED ATTENTION WHORES.

People like Crispy make it 1000x harder to actually show interest in German things. Because I AM interested in German shit btw.

Like for real: it’s a country I’d love to visit one day (at least the black forest, which is where my mom’s fam comes from). I love German art and German fairytales slap. I really do want to explore my heritage through art and stuff.

But guess what? Much as Crispy would argue to the contrary I DO know my WWII history and beyond and FUCK YOU if you honestly think jerking it to cuddly Nazi-furs is empowering or just “showing your interest in history”. Take your own advice and read a god-damn book.

TL;DR: I DO NOT have to be proud of Nazis to enjoy German culture and if you think otherwise, FUCK YOU. It’s a slap in the face to everyone even if you are ‘just trolling’ and it in no way values actual German’s feeling on the matter. It’s annoying how people undervalue real people just for the sake of fan art.

The Nazis were evil. They were racist, eugenic-genocidal idiots who killed over six million Jewish people, Romani, Slavs, Jehovahs Witnesses, disabled people, Poles, homosexuals and prisoners of war. They would have killed my dad’s side of the family if they were in Poland at the time. They made bullshit tanks that killed the people making them and didn’t work on the battlefield. Their leader was a fat, farting one-testicaled bastard who preferred animals to people.

They ruined everything for everyone and then took the easy way out, leaving the Germans that were left in the hands of the also-genocidal Soviets and Americans. Germany is still paying their war debts and now, 70-80 years later everyone else wants to laugh off this dark period of history with memes and forget what they did, and as such, are forgetting the victims of the genocide.

I have 0 tolerance for Nazi things for the sake of HUMANITY, let alone the individual groups they target. I don’t have to have German ancestry or know a single Jewish person to tell you any of this. It’s fucking history.

Eat shit.

[mountainsnsunsets]

Hogwarts: Modern Day

A/N: I’ve always wanted to imagine myself at Hogwarts, so I decided to write a fictional story about Hogwarts with the main characters, but in a no-Voldemort AU that takes places in the 2010s. I know that some of the information may not align with the original Harry Potter series, but I’m writing it in a way that I’ve always envisioned it in my head growing up. I hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: none

Chapter 1

“Oh, wow, Adonia!” my mother exclaimed. “I was hoping this day would come! We knew you were a witch when you were just a wee one, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up until you got your letter from Ilvermorny!”

My father beamed with pride, as well. I smiled at both of my parents, excited to see what being a witch was all about. My mother was a witch, while my father was a Muggle. My mom went to Hogwarts, the wizarding school located in the Scottish Highlands; she was from a small town in Ireland. However, my father was from the States and met my mom when she travelled to the States a few years after graduating from Hogwarts. She had been on wizarding business that needed her to go to New York City and Chicago; my father was attending college in the Chicago.

They maintained a long distance relationship, and eventually my mother moved to a small state on the east coast to live with him. Then I came along and they got married, and they’ve been happily together ever since. 

However, that was four years ago when I got my letter at eleven years old. Now, my father’s Muggle job was transferring him to a branch in England, and we were moving to a small village known as Brockenhurst. I was slightly disheartened to learn that we were moving so far away, and on top of that we didn’t know if Ilvermorny would let me continue my wizarding education there, and we didn’t know if Hogwarts would take me.

“Well, that blows a ton,” my best friend Dahlia said, after I gave her the news. “You can’t leave me, I need someone to help with Arithmancy and Healing!” 

I rolled my eyes. “Of course that’s why you want me to stay around,” I said, shoving her. 

“That, and you’re the only person I’d trust with my life,” she said, smiling. “If you go to Hogwarts, what house would you be in?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea. I already caused enough of a disturbance at Ilvermorny during our sorting ceremony.” Dahlia nodded and shrugged her shoulders in agreement.

During our sorting ceremony, two houses chose me; Thunderbird and Pukwudgie. I’d chosen Thunderbird, which favors adventurers and represented the soul of a person. However, most professors were boggled when I became proficient in Healing, something Pukwudgies were often known for, and not Transfiguration. I’d had been the first person in a century and a half to have more than one house choose me. I figured it was strange that only one house chose most people anyway; people are complex and defined by more than simply one trait.

“You’ll have to let me know if you cause a disturbance at Hogwarts, then,” Dahlia said, grinning.

****

Fast forward three weeks from that and the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, said it was cleared for me to attend Hogwarts. The choice was, once again, mine, as Ilvermorny said they’d also allow me to continue my education with them. Sitting with my parents, I ultimately chose Hogwarts (”I want to know what it’s like there, and that’s where Mom went to school”). 

Hogwarts was far different than Ilvermorny. Over the years, Ilvermorny adapted to the advancing technology and kept current with a fair amount of trends, considering a fair amount of wizarding families were following current Muggle trends.

Hogwarts however...didn’t. It was like they were still in the 1600s, and not an ounce of technology was found. When I arrived, one of the professors, McGonagall, placed me with the first years, who were far too giddy. I felt awkward walking in with them and having all eyes on me.

“Ms. Anderson, you will be going last, following the first years. It’s not often someone transfers to another wizarding school so far into their education. But, alas, we are most certainly happy to have you, and Ilvermorny only said great things of you. They wish you all the best.” Professor McGonagall briefly smiled at me, then turned quickly and shuffled the first years into the Great Hall. “Let’s go, children, no time to waste!”

I stood awkwardly again in the back, more so near the entryway of the Great Hall, hoping all the attention would be diverted to the first years. After what seemed like ages of first-year sortings, a man who must’ve been no other than Albus Dumbledore stood up and quieted the chattering room. 

“Now, we have a very special guest and new student coming to join us. She is from Ilvermorny, the American School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Dumbledore started to say, as hushed whispers occurred from every corner of the Hall. 

“That’s never happened before!” I heard one boy exclaim. I glanced over at him. He had pale skin and dark brown hair, messy and tousled as can be. But nonetheless, he was intrigued.

“Yes, it has,” another one scoffed. “Just not here.” I then glanced at him. He had more olive toned skin, and thick, black hair. He must’ve felt my glance, because he returned the gaze and gave me a look that said he understood.

“Quiet, please.” Dumbledore looked sternly around the room. I turned back to face Dumbledore. “Ms. Adonia Anderson, it is our pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts. Now, may I ask what house you were in at Ilvermorny? Their houses have always fascinated me.” His eyes twinkled.

I stepped up towards the raised platform at which the professors were sitting, fully aware of all the eyes of the other students on me. 

“U-um,” I stammered, “two houses chose me. Thunderbird and Pukwudgie. But I went with Thunderbird.” Next to me, a boy laughed. I turned and stared at him.

“What kind of names are those for houses? Is Ilvermorny a joke?” he said, his grey eyes housing disdain and sarcasm.

“They’re the names of magical creatures, you dingbat, and if you read a book or two, you’d know that,” I retorted back. He dropped silent, and the rest of the hall began laughing. A small rose colored blush creeped up his neck and towards his eyes, creating quite the contrast against his skin. He was even paler than the first boy. A twinge of guilt panged my heart, for I didn’t mean to embarrass him, but Ilvermorny was beloved to me.

“Well,” Dumbledore said, smiling, “let’s see which house the Sorting Hat envisions you’ll thrive in here. Come, sit.” He patted the stool, which I stepped up to, feeling like I was dragging my legs through thick mud. I closed my eyes, and hoped I didn’t get whatever house that grey-eyed boy was in. 

Kind, compassionate, talents for healing, patient... but also ambitious, curious, intuitive... and I see courage in your heart as well, the hat tutted at me. Interesting enough, you could fit in any house here, Adonia. 

I blanched. Not again.

Mmmm, troubling for you, the hat mused. You could thrive in any of the four if you wish. I see great things for you no matter what.

I didn’t respond. My thoughts were racing too quickly. I wanted to make a name for myself here. I wanted to be viewed as intelligent, but ambitious, but also strong, but also kind. But which one did I want more?

“RAVENCLAW... no? SLYTHERIN! No, not that one either? GRYFFINDOR!! Adonia, not even that one?” the hat said aloud, stunning everyone in the hall.

I want to be known for being kind and compassionate. I want to do my best for others, I thought, scrunching my eyes closed even more.

“Alright, if you say so. HUFFLEPUFF!!” I opened my eyes to see no one cheering, but only everyone looking at me with their mouths agape.

Oh no, I thought, what have I done?