bad drabble is bad

anonymous asked:

Hawke shows up in inquisition, minus Fenris; Varric mentions Fenris is probably off hunting slavers. Ever since my first playthrough, I've wondered how exactly their parting went down. Cute and fluffy? Hard and angry? Did they argue? Did Hawke even tell Fenris he was leaving, or did Fenris just wake up in camp one morning to Hawke being gone? I MUST KNOW!

If you look, I have a few drabbles about this. I don’t feel like looking them up at the moment though. This is short. I’m sorry.

They had been fighting about it for a week, and they both knew Hawke would go, and they both knew Fenris would stay, and they fought about it anyway, because Fenris couldn’t give up that easily.

“My place is by your side, Hawke,” Fenris said.

“I’d rather have you alive and angry at me, than dead in my arms.”

It was the red lyrium Varric wrote of. Fenris had heard the argument so many times, he thought he might scream if Hawke brought it up again.

“I belong with you,” he insisted.

“Don’t make me leave in secret,” Hawke pled. “You won’t follow me. Promise me, Fenris. Promise.”

They made love the night before Hawke left. Fenris was all fury and fire, teeth and nails and rage, but he clung to Hawke, when it was over, panting and bruised, and he made him swear to come home.

“I’ll never forgive you,” he said, “If you die without me.”

Owl post

So you know how owls don’t need an address to find the person the letter is addressed to? What if these owls were even cleverer than that?

Imagine Draco, sometime after the war, sitting alone in his flat and not knowing what to do with himself. He feels so empty, but on the other hand, there’s so much he wants to say. But who should he talk to? There’s nobody there. So he just begins writing his thoughts down. Sometimes it’s little poems. Sometimes it’s like he’s writing a journal. And sometimes he writes letters, addressed to no one. He keeps writing every day and whenever he’s finished, he puts the piece of parchment onto the little pile on his desk, where he keeps all his personal writing.

If Draco had been paying more attention, he would have noticed that this pile wasn’t getting any bigger. It stays exactly the same, because his sneaky little owl delivers one per day to the person she thought could help Draco the most.

When she lands on her usual windowsill on Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the window is already open and Harry is smiling at her with a treat in his hand.

“You’re very punctual,” he murmurs as he strokes her feathers. He carefully takes the piece of parchment out of her beak and smiles as she starts nibbling at her treat. Harry suspects Malfoy still doesn’t know that his owl is bringing him these letters.

Harry had been puzzled himself at first, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure out who had written these. After that, he had tried to talk to the owl, tried to explain to her that she must have gotten the wrong address, because surely this wasn’t meant for him.

But the owl had come back every day, bringing Harry another piece of parchment and Harry had found himself mesmerized by them. The poems were heart-wrenching, Malfoy talking about his day made Harry want to go over there and talk to him. But he doesn’t dare. He would have to admit, he read Malfoy’s most inner thoughts without his consent. And Harry doubts, the Malfoy he would be facing would be the same as the Malfoy in these letters.

Sighing, Harry settles down on the couch and begins to read today’s owl post.

I had a dream last night. It wasn’t one of my usual nightmares, but I guess you could still call it that, because this will very likely haunt me for the rest of my days. It was about him. We were younger, much younger. We were on the Quidditch pitch, but not as enemies. We were just flying together, laughing together. It was so strange to see him like this. His eyes didn’t hold the resentment I am used to. He was looking at me like I was his whole world. It still hurts to think about it now. The worst part, however, was the way he cupped my cheeks and smiled at me, right before he kissed me. I could still feel his lips on mine when I woke up. I wasn’t even sure if I had been dreaming or not for a second. Then, reality crashed down on me again. Sometimes, I wonder what would happen if he knew. If he had known back then. I’m not sure if it would have made a difference. All he ever did was hate me, just as much as I pretended to hate him. I regret he never saw the truth. All I ever wanted was him. And for one night, my mind granted me that wish. However, I hope it doesn’t happen again. Only if my mind decides to let me dream forever.

Harry feels dizzy when he puts the letter down. It’s true, he never saw the truth, never even knew there was a truth to be seen. He had never thought to look beyond their fighting and mutual obsession. Never thought it could mean something else entirely.

But over the past few weeks, he discovered a whole different side of Malfoy and thereby discovered something about himself. He wants to take Malfoy’s pain away. Maybe he’s been wanting to do that for a while. And now, Harry knows he can.

He jumps up from the couch and locks eyes with the owl, still sitting on the windowsill.

“You clever little thing,” he whispers to her, as he strokes her feathers one more time. She hoots happily, as if encouraging Harry to hurry up. So he does. He hurries out the door, to apparate to Malfoy’s flat. He has no idea how he will do it and how long it will take Malfoy to believe Harry’s intentions are genuine, but it doesn’t matter.

He will do everything he can to make Draco Malfoy’s dreams come true.

Part 2

share my heart

A/N: i was forced at gunpoint tonight to write a s4 drabble about bellarke realizing how the other feels about them. Rated T. WC: 1455.

It’s quiet.

Somehow, quiet is always around Bellamy. It’s like he wears it on his shoulders, along with all the pain and hurt and guilt. She doesn’t know if he’s even aware he projects it. All she knows is when she’s sitting with him like she is tonight, sorting meat packages into piles for storage for Alpha Station’s five years weathering out the storm, everything just feels calmer.

“Pass me the checklist,” Bellamy rumbles, nudging her hand with his. It’s the first thing either of them have said for the past half hour.

She obliges, and he squints at it.

“We’ve got to sort those.” He points. Clarke glances around. “Into different kinds of meat. We forgot to do that.”

“Then we have to do it again,” she exhales, and rakes a hand through her hair, nails digging into her own scalp. That will take another twenty minutes at least. Heavy frustration washes over her in a wave. There’s too much to do. Too many small details to iron out. “There’s not enough time.”

She hears him taking a deep breath— it’s no secret that they’re both counting down the minutes. But when he speaks, his voice is even. “There’ll be plenty of time soon enough. Five years, to be exact.”

She looks up, finds him watching her, dark eyes unreadable, and nods, her throat still feeling tight.

They resume sorting, but this time, it’s his shoulders that are drawn tight, and Clarke feels terrible right then for reminding him how little time they had, as if he weren’t already thinking about it every moment of the day. She scrambles for something to say to distract him. “What do you think you’ll do?”

Bellamy looks up, quirks up a brow.

She clarifies. “What do you think you’ll do with those five years?”

Keep reading

Midnight Talks Pt. Two || Peter Parker Imagine

Originally posted by optimus-grimes

(not my gif)

Word Count: 938 Words

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

A/N: I tried my best (that’s a lie, i didn’t even grammar check it), I hope you all enjoy

Part One

“So Y/N, how was your, um, your night last night?” Peter asked as he started eating his lunch. All day, all you could think about was last night. Spider-Man randomly showed up in your room. In what world does that actually happen to someone? You looked down at your lunch, trying to figure out what to tell him, Ned and Michelle who suddenly got interested in the conversation due to lack of an answer.

“It was uh, good actually, watched a funny movie. Why do you ask?” You question back at him. You didn’t tell him about the whole Spider-Man thing because you didn’t know if the man in the mask wanted you to tell people. Peter looked down at his lunch tray. “Just curious, that’s all. What about you guys,” he looked between Ned and Michelle, “how were your nights?” He asked. Peter didn’t want to seem suspicious if he only asked you. He knew what you actually did last night, you were with him. Well, his alter ego. Did you not trust him enough to tell him about it?

As Ned began to explain his action packed night of binge watching old movies, you began to play with your food, lost in thought about the city’s hero, Spider-Man. He was funny, and kind of cool. Not everyone gets to talk to him which made the entire situation even better than it already was.  

Peter looked over and saw you playing with your food. He turned to see if Ned was still talking to him but he was now talking to Michelle. “Hey,” Peter said as he turned to you, “you okay? You seem a bit out of it.” He sounded worried about you. You nodded your head yes, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Did you stay up all night watching movies?” He asked with a small smile, knowing exactly what you did. “How’d you know?” You said sarcastically, knowing that you told him earlier. “Lucky guess.” He said with a shrug, playing along with the whole thing. The two of you quietly laughed at the situation.  

What the two of you didn’t hear was Michelle and Ned talking about you. “You think  they’re ever going to date?” Ned whispered to Michelle. “Oh definitely.” She said before getting back to reading her book.

It was late at night, again. But this time, you were busy doing your homework. You only had a few more problems you needed to do. You sighed, getting anxious for the sleep you so desperately needed. You went to open your window, wanting to hear the sounds of the city. You went back to your homework area and glanced at the time on your phone to see that it was 11:50. Jesus, these high school teachers are draining the life out of you. Forgetting about your homework, you stayed on your phone for a few minutes. All of a sudden, a wind washed over you. You look up and see Spider-Man.

He came here on purpose this time, he wanted to see you. At least that’s what you understood. “How is is it that Spider-Man has been in my room, not just once, but twice now?” You asked with a humorous sound lacing your voice. You saw him shrug his shoulders as he went to sit on your bed. “I guess I just like talking to you.” He said as he jumped up onto your bed, and crossing his legs Indian style. Spider-Man patted a seat next to him, indicating you to go and sit with him.

You got on the bed and crossed your legs the way that he had done. “What do you want to talk about?” You asked as you started playing with your hands out of nervousness.  

“I don’t know….tell me about your life. Your crush your favorite things, your friends, really anything.” Spider-Man said. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “My friends are the most awesome people on the planet. They are always nice and understanding.  I would be lost without them, really.” You said looking up at him.

“Are you popular?” He asked curiously. You shook your head immediately. “No, I hang out with the same three people everyday. If anything, I am one of the most unpopular kids at my school.”

“How could you be unpopular?” He asked with a surprised tone, “You’re  the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen.” You blushed at the statement. Another plus, he is super sweet. “T-Thanks.”

“So, do you have a crush on anyone?” He questioned with a voice that made him sound like a dramatic 5th grader. This made you smile. “He, he is just something else you know what I mean? He’s different then any other guy that I have ever met. He is just such a good person with a big heart and he is crazy smart. He uh, just got an internship at Stark Industries. What teenager gets that opportunity?” You told Spider-Man all this, venting to a man you don’t even know.

“Sounds like he’s a pretty cool guy. What’s his name? Maybe I can help you with your relationship.” He said the last part mockingly. Peter knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to admit your feelings for him even if you weren’t telling the real Peter. He just wanted to hear you say those words.

You smiled widely thinking of the boy who had you wrapped around his finger. “His name is-”

“Peter! What’s up?” You said as you ran to catch up with him. He turned and smiled at you, “Hey Y/N.”

Part Three

It’s not that the question has been bugging him, per se.

It’s more like…. more like…

Well it’s more like the question had been driving him up the fucking wall. And it’s not like it matters- at all. But Isak should know things about Even and Even should knows things about Isak. They should know each other. Because Isak is like 99.78% sure that Even and Isak are a forever thing.


“Can I ask you a question?” Isak is sitting on the counter of their kitchen as Even meticulously scrambles eggs and tosses toast in the oven.

Even hums, throwing pinches of salt in the pan as the eggs started to form, “Yeah, ‘course.”

“Am I like…” Isak thinks of how to phrase it because he’s come to learn that shit doesn’t always come out of his mouth in the most elegant of fashion. He struggles for a hot second, before remembering that this is Even- who knows his lack of censor, “So like am I your first guy?”

Even throws pepper into the egg mixture.

Isak shifts uneasily, “Even?”

He takes the eggs off the heat and dumps them on to a plate. When there was no more to do, Even moved to stand in between Isak’s legs, “What brought this on?”

“Just curious.” Isak leans forward to brush bits of hair away from Even’s face, “It’s not like it’s super important… I was only wondering.”

Even stares at him for a minutes. probably debating his answer or whatever, “There was one other boy I was interested in. Before I met you. It didn’t end well. Or- like, it never really began? He didn’t…”

#relatable, Isak thinks, and then “Gotcha.”

“I’m glad it didn’t.” Even smiles, backing away from Isak and grabbing the plate of eggs, “Because now I have you and I wouldn’t give you up for anyone.”


“What about you? Even continues, setting the table, “I was the first boy you were interested in, right?”

Record Scratch. 

“Umm,” Fuck his pitch is a little too high to be normal, “Well…”

Even glances back at him with raised eyebrows, “Wait really? I wasn’t?”

“I mean…” 

“Huh,” Even slides a hand through his hair, like he can’t decide on being amused or put out, “Do I know him?”


Even narrows his eyes, “Who?”

“Jo…nas?” Isak looked around, “Maybe.”

“Jonas?” Even blinked, “Like Jonas, Jonas? Oh fuck me.”

“I’d love to,” Isak said brightly, turning around and heading for the hallway, “We just gotta-”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Even’s arms come around Isak’s waist, “Jonas Noah Vasquez, huh? Curly haired bastard.”

Isak snorts, “You adore Jonas.”

“Yeah,” Even sniffs into his hair, “He is pretty cool.”

Isak tries to hide a smile, “…and hot… very hot.”

The arms tighten and before he knows it, Even is marching him to bed, “I’ll show you very hot.”

He did.

I Found You.

Prompt: (Soulmate AU) Pain demands to be felt. Sometimes by more than one.

“Wow, look at you, Mr. Cranky. What’s up?” Blaise greets Draco too cheerfully in a gloomy London Monday morning.

“Shut it, Zabini. It’s too early to deal with your shits.” Draco snaps.

“Whoa, okay, something is clearly wrong. Wanna share?” Draco almost snaps for the second time in the morning, but the concern in Blaise’s eyes softens his cranky side.

“It’s nothing, just woke up this morning and sore all over the place.”

“Soulmate things?” Draco only nods. “I hate this thing you know, I mean one day we live for 21 years and the next second we’re being tied to this one particular person which is a pain in the ass because we have to share their pain.”

“Well, you have exactly 21 years to fool around. It’s your fault to waste it. And by the way, you don’t have to search for your soulmate, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I would give my life to stop worrying while waking up with cuts all over my body. Thank you very much.”

“Good luck finding that klutz of your life. I’ll wait for the invitation.” Draco finally can grin for the first time in that morning before taking his ordered coffee, and leave the small coffee shop.


Draco Malfoy always wonders about his soulmate. On the day he turned 21, there was suddenly bruises on his ribs. He couldn’t sleep that day, worrying whether the person he is being tied to will survive the day or not, as more bruises and cuts kept coming. He relaxed once he can feel the repeated stinging pain of needle on the corner of his eyebrow. That day never stops, and Draco never stops worrying, even after one year of that dreadful night.

Now that he’s 22, he already can control his emotions. Some days he’s worried sick inside his office as the pain just keeps resonating over and over, but some other days, like today, he only feels irritated as he woke up with tenderness all over his body. He sometimes feels grateful that his job won’t cause the person on his other end any more pain than they needs to endure, but most days he feels so irritated that he cuts himself on purpose to upset the other person. Being a healer is very safe when you know what you’re doing.

Sometimes he wonders what kind of job that his soulmate has, but nowadays he’s certain that it must be resonating with the word “Auror” or anything similar to that. Nothing can cause more pain than being in that bloody department of the ministry. Unfortunately not once he found the injured Auror that belongs to him. Not yet.


“Ow, fuck! Seriously, woman, blow your hot drinks before you drink it. You can at least have self preservation if not to save your soulmate tongue!” Pansy snaps to no one while drinking her ice Americano. Blaise laughs openly at that.

“It seems like I’m not the only one who has a klutz as my soulmate.”

“Yeah, she’s a klutz sometimes, not as bad as yours though.” Both Draco and Blaise stare at her in shock.

“Wh- What? She? Have you met her?” Draco asks incredulously.

“Well, no, but yesterday I felt a strong pain on my lower region, so I believe my soulmate is a she.”

“Are you sure? I mean they could get kicked in that area, or bump into something.” Pansy rolls her eyes.

“Draco, darling, I know what cramp pain feels like, so I strongly believe that she’s a girl.”

“Well, congratulation! You’re one step ahead to stop losing your mind out of worry.” Blaise says while hugging Pansy.

“Good on you, love—” Draco’s sentence is being cut by a painful blow on his stomach. Fuck. The next blow is so strong; it knocks him to his knees. His hand is tightly gripping the desk beside him while the other clutching his side stomach. The next wave of pain comes barreling through his body before his mind can catch up on how to breathe properly. He can feel the blood rushing out of his face, this pain is different. He doesn’t feel anything but pain before when this attack comes, but now he feels something else, something worse. Despair.

“Draco! Draco, can you hear me?!” Pansy’s panic voice break through his pain filled mind, but Draco can’t bring himself to answer her. He can clearly feel the despair on his soulmate bond. He can feel how the other person starts losing his will to live. No. Don’t. Please, I haven’t found you. You have to survive this one. He can hear his heavy breathing when the pain finally stops, or at least reduces to dull throbbing in his body. When he is finally aware of his surrounding, someone bursts through his office door. Pansy and Blaise, who are both kneeling beside Draco with concern eyes, suddenly glare to the nurse on the door.

“What do you want?” Pansy snaps.

“Healer Draco, there’s an emergency patient in an immediate need of surgery.” She speaks in rapid pace. Draco is still trying to catch his breathing.

“Where are the other healers? He can’t perform a surgery, right now.” Blaise asks politely.

“There are no other healers, please, he’ll die if you don’t operate him.”

“Pans, Blaise, it’s alright. I’m okay. I’ll be in the room in two minutes.” With that Draco stands up and goes to the operation room. The nurse is already there. “Just us two?”

“Just us two, the others are not available due to the recent attack on the ministry.” Draco steps into the light and freezes when he sees his patient’s face. Freckles with ginger hair. Ronald Weasley.

“Well, it really has been awhile, Weasley.” Draco performs the quite long surgery in just 4 hours, effectively removing the long painful metal from Ron’s shoulder and picking up all the scraps after he successfully undo the curse Ron has been shot with. The dull throbs never stop while he’s conducting the surgery, but nothing that he can ease with a small hiss or sharp intake of breath. Draco was just cleaning the blood on the Ron’s stitches when the surgery room’s door slams open with a force. Draco snaps at the nurse on the door, who turns out to be his apprentice/assistant. “Can’t you see that this surgery is not finished yet?! There are rules to follow, Rachel!”

“I’m sorry, Draco, I can do whatever you’re doing to that patient right now. This one is more important.” Rachel says in panic, and without permission she pulls a patient inside the surgery room. Draco’s heart drops to the floor when he sees the patient. Harry Potter is literally dripping blood to the floor. Bruises all over the place, but what concerns Draco is his split up chest that is oozing a scary amount of blood.

“Fuck, what happened to him?!”

“I don’t know, bloody Auror mission had gone wrong, probably? And this is not the worst of it.” With that Rachel show him the chunk of metal ripping through Potter’s thigh, deep enough to rip a tendon, deep enough to forbid him from running for the rest of his life. Draco sighs tiredly, why did Harry bloody Potter love to do something that will accelerate his own death? Merlin, help him.

“Uh- you, nurse over there, just bring Weasley to his room and clean him there. Rachel helps me with this one.” Draco says frantically. He cleans all the blood from Harry’s body while Rachel is already supplying the lifeless body with blood transfusion. Draco recognizes the curse from when he was forced to witness the Death Eater tortured their prisoner. It was a special signature curse from one of the Death Eater he hates the most, Dolohov. So, Harry has been dueling with Dolohov and what? Lose? A shudder rips through Draco’s spine. “How’s the other one?” Draco asks Rachel.

“The other one?”

“Yes, the other one he’s been fighting.” Draco snaps.

“Oh, yes, the other one is dead.” Oh, so he won. Thank Merlin, he won. Not in a very good shape though, he could die in a few minutes if Draco doesn’t act. Thank Merlin, Draco knows the counter curse. Draco points his wand on the open wound while muttering the incantation. His wand is rigid in his hand, his wand is not supposed to move or the incantation will fail. Apparently it’s an impossible task, because right when the spell works his chest fills with pain. Draco cries out while his knees buckle. Fuck. He tries once again with the same result. Fuck.

“Draco, what’s wrong?”

“I think you need to help me. Make sure that I don’t move, especially my wand, or else the spell won’t work.”

“Why are you in pain?”

“Apparently the counter curse hurts as much as the curse, so unless you’re doing the counter curse, I need you to help me stay still.”

“But –you’re not –but that means –your pain? –you and him?” Poor Rachel can’t even conjure a sentence.

“Yes, apparently fate has a weird way of playing with my life.” With that, Draco stands up with Rachel pointing her wand at Draco’s hand, casting spell so that his hand won’t move anywhere. After a few minutes with excruciating pain, Draco manages to close the wound on Harry’s chest.

“Alright, you have to bear the pain, Draco. I’m going to pull this metal out of his thigh.”

“Do it in one swift clean motion, or else you’ll rip whatever chance he has to run again.” Rachel points her wand at the large piece of metal. “On three. One. Two. Three.” Draco screams as the metal is being pulled out of Harry’s thigh. After that, they both finish their work on Harry Potter, releasing him to his room after his condition stabilizes in two hours.


Draco stays with Potter in his room after the bloody tiring surgery, catching up with the sleep he has lost over worrying for his bloody soulmate –Merlin, his soulmate is sodding Harry fucking Potter, how is that even possible? Now it’s clear why he never stops getting bruises and cut, but that can wait until later, right now a nap sounds really good.


Harry wakes up in a very familiar white room. Of course he’s in St. Mungo, he was barely alive when he managed to save Ron from Dolohov curse. He was very certain that he will not see another day, but here he is, lying soundlessly in a hospital bed. He feels another presence beside him, but he turns only to find a very familiar shade of blond. Malfoy. Malfoy looks so peaceful while sleeping, his head being supported by his hands on the bed, back rising slowly with each breath he takes. Somehow Malfoy looks breathtakingly innocent while sleeping, and that lures Harry in because the next thing he knows is he’s stroking the blond strands gently while willing for Malfoy to sleep a little longer.

That jinxes it though because now Malfoy is awake. Very much awake and very much confuse with Harry’s hand on his hair. Harry retracts his hand quickly, beyond embarrassed.

“How are you, Potter?” Draco asks professionally, so Harry sucks a deep breath to muster all his courage and apathy to answer him.

“Sore.” That makes Draco chuckles.

“Yeah, no wonder. The counter curse was suck, but the ripping a chunk of metal from your thigh part was a bitch.” Harry can only stares at Draco, he’s speaking in a very weird way. “Congratulation on killing Dolohov, though. Weasley is safe and sound, sleeping like a baby in the next room. Just friendly reminders though, the next time you’re getting beaten up, don’t start losing hope on living. The pain I can handle, the despair just simply makes me insane.” Draco smiles at him softly with concern in his grey orbs. “Your chest is fine, your thigh –not so much–”

“Malfoy.” Harry tries to cut his unnecessary professionalism.

“I’m afraid you have ripped your tendon, a physical therapy could–”


“Help you to heal it faster, but—”

“Draco!” Harry finally snaps, Draco looks at Harry with annoyance.

“Stop interrupting me! You cannot run, Potter! You ripped your tendon. It will heal, but you cannot run until then. There I said my piece, stop interrupting me, Merlin. What do you want?”

“Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“I’m not saying anything, what do you mean?”

“I’m saying about you can handle the pain. Are you saying that you’re my soulmate?” Harry asks exasperatedly. Draco’s face goes with recognition.

“Oh, that, yeah. I thought we already established that by what I’m saying. What you need prove?” Draco doesn’t wait for an answer; he just casually cuts his finger on the paper that he brought.

“Ow! Yeah, no, stop hurting yourself, I didn’t say I need any proof, you git!”

“What? It’s just a paper cut, you usually gives me new bruises for every week.” Draco says innocently which draws Harry more and more.

“Just come here, please.” Draco stands beside his bed, but Harry needs him closer, so he pulls Draco’s white coat collar down, effectively crushing their mouths together. Their kisses are gentle, and somehow fiercely sweet. “God, I never thought I’d live to see this day. I finally find you.” Harry says between kisses.

Thank Merlin, you survived. Thank you. I found you now.

P.S. Sorry this is not a very good one. I’ll probably rewrite this in the near future.


Whenever Draco has a bad day, Harry buys him flowers. 

The first time it happens, Draco comes home from work with a scowl on his face. He just got some really bad news and knows the next few weeks will be hell for him. When Harry asks about his day, he doesn’t say anything. He knows, if he opens his mouth now, he will only snap at Harry and he really isn’t in the mood to fight. Not after the day he had. So he sits there, throughout their dinner, saying nothing.

When he gets up to take a shower, he catches Harry gazing at him sadly. Draco knows Harry is only worried about him, but this gets him even more irritated. Because now, on top of his bad mood, he feels guilty for making Harry feel this way.

Taking a shower normally relaxes him, but when he walks into his and Harry’s bedroom, his muscles are still tense and the scowl still won’t leave his face. The crease between his brows deepens even more when he sees something odd on his bedside table. That bouquet of peonies wasn’t there before. When he hears Harry enter the bedroom, Draco doesn’t turn around.

“Do I look like a girl, Potter?” he grumbles through gritted teeth. Why would Harry get him flowers? Harry doesn’t reply. Instead, Draco feels his arms wrap around his waist from behind. When Harry starts nuzzling his hair, Draco sighs and puts one of his hands on Harry’s.

Harry is only trying to cheer him up. And although Draco would never admit it out loud, getting flowers from his boyfriend is… kind of nice.

From this day on, whenever Draco comes home grumpy or moody, Harry will excuse himself quickly and return with a bouquet of sunflowers, or daisies, or hydrangeas… sometimes Draco doesn’t even know the name of the flowers Harry gets him. The only thing he knows is, it warms his heart when Harry is standing in front of him, smiling almost shyly, with a big bouquet in his arms.

So now, Draco isn’t that irritated anymore, when he had a bad day at work. He’s still moody and grumpy, he can’t control that, but he also knows that Harry will buy him flowers. And while they’re beautiful and Draco always admires and appreciates them for as long as they’re on his bedside table, it’s about so much more than just the flowers.

It reminds Draco of how thoughtful Harry is. It’s a sweet little gesture that reassures Draco.

Harry will always be there to cheer him up.

To make him feel loved.

Part 2

Chapter 1: You’re going to wish we’d never been matched // Shawn Mendes


Warning: there is slight violence towards the end so if it makes you uncomfortable just skip the last paragraph (she just gets knocked out so you’re not missing much)

rECAP: For those last 6 minutes before my timer reached zero, I allowed my self to dream that I had been matched with the perfect guy. Someone who would complete me and know how to make me happy. I had never expected that person to be Shawn Mendes. Resident bad boy who couldn’t care less about anyone else besides himself, let alone a soulmate. Surely they had made a mistake. 

I knew I only had seconds before I would meet him. My whole stomach felt alive with butterflies and I clutch my shaking fingers tighter around my text books as I walk down the corridor. He’s here. Somewhere in this building, there’s someone perfect for me. I don’t look at the timer, my eyes avoiding the green numbers ticking away and instead look out the glass walls at the tall skyscrapers that surround our modernistic 4 story school.

There had been too many questions running through my head as I sat in my period 3 Math class. I felt suffocated, Mr Johnston’s monotone voice doing nothing to help the pounding of my heart and my sweating palms. I had asked to go to sickbay, my stomach twisting when I realized I had 6 minutes to go.

He couldn’t have been someone who went to my school, could he? I had been attending this prestigious school in the middle of the city for my whole educational life. If he went here, I would have met him already.

I take a risk, checking the numbers that now stare up at me reading 45 seconds. I take a deep breath, doing my best to calm myself before I start hyperventilating. I just needed to distract myself from my toxic thoughts.

The glass 2 feet ahead of me smashes and I scream, raising my arms to shield my face from the glass flying out at me. A figure clad in black crouches amongst the broken shards, and my eyes widen, flicking to check the time. 9 seconds.

He rises slowly, his tall frame and muscular build creating an intimidating appearance. He winces, checking his palm and I can’t move, staring as he rips out a shard of glass from his hand. The glass clangs to the ground, droplets of blood dripping off it and I take a sharp intake of breath.

It catches his attention and that’s when his eyes meet mine. My forearm burns, the prickling feeling intensifying and I drag my gaze off his dark hazel eyes to see my timer fading. Four zero’s stare up at me and the familiar green numbers that I had lived with my whole life disappear until there was nothing but skin.

I look back up at him. This was my soulmate. I felt like I was going to be sick. Instead I swallow the lump in my throat and straighten my posture. 

“How’d you even get in here? Its the third floor.” I blurt out before I can think about it. He doesn’t say anything, his alluring eyes pulling me in and I so badly wish he would remove the black cloth covering the rest of his face so I knew what he looked like. He chuckles.

“’Cos I could.” His words have a slight accent and I drink in every word he says.

“You go around busting into school’s for a living?” My eyes running over his figure. His dark skinny jeans hugged his long legs and the white symbol on his black hoodie flashed when the sun caught it. It cover’s his upper body and his hair, only a few brown curls peeking out. Other then that all I could see was his brown iris’s.  

“Always fun to cause a little trouble.” He winks at me, his voice muffled under the cloth. He steps over the glass on the floor and begins to walk down the hallway, away from me.

“Hey!” I call, rushing to catch up with him, ignoring my conscious telling me it was a bad idea to follow the man who broke into my school. The man who was my match. 

“What do you want?” he growls at me, turning his head slightly to look at me out of the corner of his eye.

“We’re soulmates.” I breathe, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

He snorts, never slowing his pace.

“So you’re mine, huh?”

“Don’t you want to get to know me? If we’re going to be spending the rest of our life toget-”

“And that’s where I’m going to have to stop you.” He cuts me off, stopping to face me. I frown at him, biting my lip as I feel my stomach dip.

“I don’t want a soulmate. I never have and I never will. I don’t want to get to know you nor do I want to spend the rest of my life with you, okay?” He glares at me and I dig my nails into the palm of my hand to distract myself from crying in front of him. God forbid that to happen.

“Why not?” I snap, digging into the anger I felt.

“I don’t have to explain my self to you.” He seems unaffected by my frustration.

I open my mouth, about to talk when another voice cuts me off.

“Mendes, you coming? We got some things to break before these snobby douche’s realise we’re in the building.” Another man dressed exactly like my soulmate appears from around the corner.

“Just sorting out a witness, Jeremy.” My soulmate reply’s, sounding like it was the most tedious thing he’d ever done.

Jeremy’s gaze locks on me.

“Well what a pretty thing you are.” He says to me, flashing a pearly smile in my direction.

I keep my mouth shut, recognizing the symbol, that was in fact just one word, my soulmate was wearing on his jacket. It read libertas, which was Latin for freedom. Also the trademark sign for the rebellion growing on the west side of the city. 

Their goal was to stop the amount of control the Government Officials had over our lives and most importantly, destroy the soulmate program. They saw it as a useless waste of technology and just another way for the Officials to manipulate the way we live.

I try to back away from them, fear creeping up my spine.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jeremy chuckles, the once almost friendly demeanor gone.

“None of your goddamn business.” I growl back, my heartbeat racing and my brain screaming at me to shut up.

“Mendes, take care of her attitude would you? I pity the match who has to deal with her feisty ass.” With that, he saunters off, leaving me alone with my soulmate.

“You really didn’t know who you were talking to, did you?” ‘Mendes’ asks me, turning his attention back to me.

“Like I give a damn.” I reply, my temper rising. He moves so fast that I don’t even process what he’s done until my back is against the wall and his hand is around my neck, my books falling to the floor.

“Don’t test me, princess. You may think you’re all high and mighty now but you have no idea who you’re talking to and what the libertas can do.” His eyes darken and I scratch at his grip to loosen as black dots flash across my vision.

“I don’t care if you’re my soulmate, next time you speak to Jeremy or myself like that, lets just say you’re going to get what’s coming for you.” I glare at him as he lets his arm fall, my chest heaving as I try to get air into my deprived lungs.

“Asshole.” I spit, my rage consuming any reasonable part of my body.

His head snaps to look at me, his eyes curiously analyzing me. He grabs my wrists, slamming them back against the wall and he leans closer until the cloth covering his face brushes my neck. 

“Just for that comment, I’m going to come back for you, but not for the reason’s you want. You may be deemed as my other half but you sure have plenty of other uses.” His eyes trail down my body, his gaze fixed on my chest. My face is stuck in a permanent scowl.

“You wouldn’t.” I try my best to sound strong but my voice is raspy after the hold he had on my neck.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.” I’m sure that if he wasn’t wearing a mask his lips would have been curled up in a smirk. I fidget in his grip as he presses closer to me, stopping my movements.

“You’re going to wish we’d never been matched.” he purrs in my ear and I fight against him, trying to free myself.

“I already do.” I rasp, watching as amusement flickers across his eyes.

He raises his hand, shoving my head back against the wall hard. It all went dark.

Originally posted by kdrauhl

*Craig and Tweek at 16 years old are playing video games in Craig’s room while asking eachother random questions*

Tweek: “What’s your favorite color?”

Craig: “Red, like Red Racer.”

Tweek: “Red Racer, huh?”

Craig: “Shut up.”

Tweek: “Then why do you always wear blue?”

Craig: “I dunno, it’s easier to wash. Red bleeds too much.”


Craig: “When did you have your first kiss?”

Tweek: “Oh, uh, ngh, never? Too much pressure! I use to lie and say it was with some chick from Wyoming to keep Cartman from putting me on blast. I, err, didn’t want to end up like Butters.”

Craig: *feels remorseful, remembering his part in the whole Butters situation*

Craig: “So no special ladies?”

Tweek: *looks at Craig with a tired expression* “Nope. Just you.”

Craig: “Oh yeah. We’re still doing that. I don’t think anyone believes it anymore… Yanno, except the idiot adults.”

Tweek: “Yeah… So what about you?”

Craig: “Me?”

Tweek: “Not, ngh, talking to Stripe #6.”

Craig: *flips Tweek off* ‘Some girl from Wyoming.“

Tweek: "Don’t be an ass! Be serious.”

Craig: “When am I not?”

Tweek: *facepalms*

Craig: “What did I say about hitting yourself.”

Tweek: *glares punches Craig in the leg*

Craig: “This is domestic abuse!”

Tweek: *ignores Craig and focuses on the screen*

Craig: “What.”

Tweek: *ignoring*

Craig: “You’re mad.”

Tweek: *sighs twitichily*

Craig: “I wasn’t making fun of you.”

Tweek: “Then what were you doing?”

Craig: “I haven’t kissed anyone either.”

Tweek: “Ngh…what?”

Craig: “We’re in the same boat.”

Tweek: “Oh… why?”

Craig: “Girls have cooties.”

Tweek: *snorts* Cooties aren’t real. But herpies are! And Gingivitis! And mouth cancer! Oh God!“

Craig: "Calm down. You’re not going to get herpies from kissing someone.”

Tweek: “You don’t know that man! Cold sores are a kind of herpies! Everyone gets them! Or what if they give me gingivitis! What if they got it from someone else! Ngh! AND THEN EVERYONE GETS IT! Kissing is a bad idea!”

Craig: “Then kiss a mouth virgin.”

Tweek: “You make it sound dirty.”

Craig: “Hypocrite.”

Tweek: “How do I know if they’re a 'mouth virgin’?”

Craig: “Ask them.”

Tweek: “What if they lie?”

Craig: “Ask someone you know who wouldn’t lie.”

Tweek: “Like Token?”

Craig: “Pretty sure Token has gone further than losing his mouth virginity.”

Tweek: “I, ngh, didn’t say I wanted to kiss him! I was just saying is I trust him to tell me the truth!”

Craig: “I know, but your reaction was hilarious.”

Tweek: “… I don’t really trust anyone.”

Craig: “Well who do you trust?”

Tweek: “Uh, Jimmy, Token, Bebe, Stripe, sometimes Clyde. If I bribe him. And…”

Craig: “And?”

Tweek: “…you?”

Craig: “I would hope so. I am your boyfriend after all.”

Tweek: “…”

Craig: “…”

*Craig has an idea*

Craig: *Gets up and leaves to the bathroom*

Tweek: *Sits silently playing Mario Kart alone, trying to not feel awkward*

*Craig enters a few minutes later and flops down into the beanbag next to Tweek*

Tweek: “…”

Craig: “…”

Craig: “Hey Tweek.”

*Tweek turns to look at Craig, only to be met with a toothpaste flavored kiss. It lasts a few seconds while Tweek is completely shocked, and ends with Tweek pushing him away, freaked out.*


Craig: “Two birds with one stone. That wasn’t so bad.”


Craig: “Well I don’t have herpies or bad breath. And l, um… I don’t know.


Craig: “I mean I dont know. ”

*Craig looks at the ground blankly as Tweek freaks out. After some time, Tweek calms down seeing Craig in such a state. It might not look like it to someone else, but Craig was freaking out as well. Very Craig-ishly.*

Tweek: “…”

Craig: “…”

Craig: “Are you mad?”

Tweek: “Ngh-No.”

Tweek: *Almost whispers* “I’m sorry!

Craig: "Uh… why are you sorry?”

Tweek: *blushes very hard*

Craig: “I should be sorry for doing that. It shouldn’t have-”

Tweek: “Thank you.”

Craig: “Uh..”

Tweek: “Uh… I didn’t freak out because YOU kissed me, I freaked out because You KISSED me. Does, ngh, that make sense? You don’t have to, um, ngh, say anything. I think we just crossed a line. A-and, um, you scared me. Not… not in a bad way. Ok? Oh God, um, so we don’t have to talk about this, if you’re not, ngh, ready.”

*Tweek wasn’t sure how he wasn’t freaking out, but he knew Craig was having a harder time processing what just happened than he was.*

Craig: “I don’t know yet. There isn’t much to talk about. I kissed you. You freaked out. We are dating but not, maybe.”

Tweek: “Did you just brush your teeth?”

Craig: “…What?”

Tweek: “Uh, when you left.”

Craig: “Yeah.”

Tweek: “You didn’t have to.”

Craig: “Yes I did.”

Tweek: “Did…ngh, my uh…”

Craig: “You tasted like coffee and bananas.”

*The two of them were silent for a moment before laughing like maniacs. Neither of them knew what was going on, but that was ok. And it was no ones business but their own.*

Vanilla Rules || Chapter 1


Genre: Badboy! au, College! au, romance, drama

Word count: 2.1k (sorry I know its long)

Warnings: Just a lil bit of swearing and mentions of throwing up (just in case anyone has a weak stomach. its not graphic but idk)


The hate saga between you and baddie of the town Park Jimin rests on two very simple (vanilla) rules: 1.) Hate each other for the rest of your lives and 2.)under no circumstances fall in love with each other. But what happens when one of starts falling for the other? Will passion win or will rage take the game?

A/N: if you want chapter 2 then pretty please let me know whether you like it. Honestly it takes a lot more effort to write than read so I dont want to waste my time writing this if the response isn't worth the work I put in. I hope you guys enjoy this and also thank you for taking the time to read it!❤️ I’ll put out a ch 2 teaser depending on how things go. Enjoy reading :)

Prologue || Ch 1 || Ch 2 teaser


Originally posted by h-farah01

Park Jimin was the worst man you ever had the displeasure of knowing. He was cold, rude, arrogant, indifferent to everyone around him. He never cared for anyone but himself. He trampled over people, used them for his own means and discarded them like waste. Everyone loved him, except for you which is why you sometimes wondered whether he seeked you out on purpose. It was a very sick and twisted game the both of you played, but neither of you ever wanted to stop.

“I think you two like each other in a twisted way” Taehyung your best friend would tell you, earning a scoff which was followed by a glare, every single time he uttered the words. No one ever made you feel as frustrated and angry as he did. “You’re wrong. He has it out for me for whatever reason. He doesnt like me” you would state as a matter of factly in turn earning a laugh of disbelief from Taehyung.

Not to mention Jimin was the biggest fuck boy you knew. Not only did he have zero respect for others, he didn’t even respect himself enough to set himself to a good standard because he would fuck anything that had two legs and a vagina.

You really hated him.

He never let any opportunity to mess up your life go amiss. Whether it was purposely making you late for class, or butting his nose in your romantic endeavours and driving your partners away.

“I am the only guy for you y/n” he had told you the time when he had driven away your dumb ex boyfriend by making it look like you had cheated on him. “ Love it or hate it because you are stuck with me princess” After a while you had given up on relationships because Jimin always ensured it didn’t last past one week.

“Thinking about me?” You were startled out of your thoughts as Jimin’s voice rang through your ears. He occupied the seat next to you and you had to stop yourself from retching because the pungent smell of smoke mixed with the cheap beer invaded your nostrils. “Aww was wittle baby missing me? Does precious little Jiminie need an ass kicking” your voice dripped with sarcasm.

Keep reading

Separate them-Part three (final)

Separate them

Separate them part two


“Can I at least say bye?” You asked Billie as tears filled your eyes.

She eyed you suspiciously before answering, “No funny business. I take you to them right as you’re about to go and then I reap you. If you try to run, you’ll regret it.”

You nodded your head, “Deal.”

“Deal.” She replied with a smirk, “Now, let’s get down to business.” She said as she handed a razor blade over to you. You hesitated a moment before you took it from her; you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared, but Sam and Dean were needed here. They had sacrificed so much. Had died so many times.

It was your turn to sacrifice something for them.

You looked up at Billie with tears pooling in your eyes, a tear slipped as you asked her, “You promise to take me to them?”

“I do.” She responded. You nodded your head one time before placing the blade on your wrist, “Cut deep.” She told you.

And you did.

Your world was dizzy and black spots were overtaking your vision when Billie grabbed onto your shoulder, “Time to say goodbye.”

Slowly blinking you opened your eyes and suddenly you were in front of Sam and Dean. You shot them a tired smile as Billie’s grip on your shoulders tightened so that you would remain standing.

“Y/N?” Dean whispered as he took in the sight of you; you were extremely pale and swaying on your feet, you looked completely out of it, that was when Dean noticed the blood flowing from both your wrists that was pooling at your feet. “What did you do?”

“You have about thirty seconds left Y/N.” Billie said as she slowly released her hold on you and slightly pushed you towards your brothers, you began to fall but Sam quickly stepped forward to grab you, “Say your goodbyes.”

“No, no you bitch, you can’t have her!” Dean shouted as he stood above you.

“Cas, heal her.” Sam said desperately as he clung onto you.

You grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed it, “Ts gonna be ookay ‘ammy.”

“The angel can’t fix her. She’s done for boys. I wouldn’t waste my last twenty seconds with her by fighting with me.” Billie told them.

Dean was furious but quickly bent down to be with you, “Hey babygirl, it’s gonna be okay. Cas is gonna heal you, okay? Don’t worry. Big brothers got this.”

“Tss okay De. No fixing this.” You said softly as you grabbed Dean with your other hand, “Ts all gonna be okay.”

“Cas heal her!” Dean shouted.

“I’m trying Dean! It’s not working!” Cas replied in a frustrated tone. This isn’t what he wanted. The world couldn’t lose any Winchesters.

You squeezed both your brothers hands, trying to get their attention but only succeed in gaining Sam’s; Dean was too busy being upset with Cas.

“I love you ‘ammy.” You tiredly told him.

“I love you too Y/N/N, so much.” Sam told you as he kissed your hand that he was holding. Your eyes fluttered before they suddenly stopped.

So did your breathing.

“Y/N?” Sam said, terrified as his brain tried to process what his eyes were showing him, “Y/N. No. Y/N, Y/N!”

Sam’s panicked tone grabbed Dean and Cas’s attention who both looked down at you with fear on their faces.

“No.” Cas said quietly to himself.

“Y/N? Y/N, babygirl open your eyes. Y/N!” Dean called to you as he began to lightly pat your face, trying to get you to open your eyes. “No.” Dean said as tears began to fall from his eyes while he cupped your still warm cheek.


Chapter 4: I want you to want me because I’m me // Shawn Mendes


Chapter 1:

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

Author’s note: So there’s a little bit of swearing in this because Shawn gets mad

RecapIt’s silent, and my cheeks heat in embarrassment from my outburst. He grips my chin softly, forcing me to meet his hazel eyes. He’s close enough that I could kiss him if I wanted to. I hold my breath waiting for his response.

Leaning close enough that our noses brush he whispers, “I’ll take my chances”, then he’s gone and I’m left standing there wondering what the heck just happened.

“Ever since the rebellion at your school you’ve been acting strange.” My sister, Steph, breaks the silence in the car. It was our ‘sister bonding time’ that our Mother makes us do every 3 or so weeks. Today we were driving to the mall, grabbing some lunch and doing a little window shopping.

I stare out the window, the harshness of the grey buildings broken up by the flash of evergreen scrubs. 

“I’ve been a little distracted.” I tell her. I wasn’t ready to tell her yet that I had found my soulmate, and that he wasn’t keen on me.

“You know you can tell me. If something was bothering you, you can tell me.” She sounds so sincere and my gaze flicks to her. Even though she says this I feel like sometimes she just wouldn’t understand. We were polar opposites personality and look wise- except for the eyes. We both had the same wide blue eyes with a rim of gold surrounding the pupil. 

Steph’s ginger hair was in ringlets today, her blue eyes framed with long lashes. She was a mix of both my parents while I looked remarkably similar to our Dad. When I was younger I thought that she took all the beauty from our parents genes and I was stuck with the brains. 

“I just… I don’t want to talk about it right now because I feel like if I do, its just going to make it seem more real.” I flip the air con on, a stream of chilled air hitting my rosy cheeks. “And that’s what I’m trying to avoid. I don’t want it to be real.”

She hums, taking a left onto Marion Street. “It sounds like you need a break from everything.” 

“I do. I really, really do.” I laugh, tucking the strands of hair that fell in my face behind my ear.

“Jace invited me to go to the club with him tonight. I think you should come.” Jace was Steph’s soulmate. They had met when they were both 14 and had immediately formed a close relationship. Steph was now 20 and their 6 year bond was another reason why I believed so strongly in the soulmate system.

“Are you sure he wouldn’t mind me tagging along?” I ask hesitantly, fiddling with my seat belt.

“Of course not! Jace will understand that you need a serious pick-me-up from what ever quarter life crisis you’re going through.”

I laugh, Steph’s giggles accompanying my own. 

“One more thing before I agree to this.” I pause, meeting Steph’s blue iris’s and it looks like I’m looking at a replica of my own.

“What is it, little sis?” She says cheekily, slowing the car to a stop as red shines from the traffic lights. 

“You have to ask Mum if I can go tonight. I don’t want to face her wrath if she says no.” 

I had no clue what to wear. What if I wore the long sleeved dress and overheated? The maroon dress looked great on me but I had no shoes that went with it. Deciding to go with my gut, I wear the black sleeved dress, slipping some slightly heeled flats on as I go.

“Y/n, hurry up.” Steph calls, walking as fast as her heels could carry her, rushing to open the door where Jace had been ringing the doorbell for the past 5 minutes.

“I’m hurrying.” I snap at her, pressing a quick kiss to my mother’s cheek as I pass her, Dad was still at work.

“Have a fun time girls!” Mum shouts before we shut the door and I wave at her before closing and locking it.

“Thanks for not making me wait at all.” I hear Jace mumble to Steph, her girlish giggle making me want to run back inside and under my bed covers. I did not plan on being a third wheel tonight.

“Thanks for letting me join you guys.” I say to Jace, cutting off what ever conversation they were delving into.

“No problem Y/n.” Jace grins at me, and I could see why Steph was so obsessed with him. Tall with blonde curly locks, he was a stunner, and when he smiled, his whole face lit up. Together, they looked like they should be on the front page of every fashion magazine.

I get in the back seat, tuning out Steph and Jace’s loved up conversation and the car begins to move, the city becoming a blur.

We were let into the downtown club with no dramas. When Jace told me we were going to the South Side Club, I was surprised. It had a reputation for good liquor, loud bass and housing members of the libertas.

I didn’t say anything, didn’t mention that my soulmate was apart of the alleged rebellion that wanted to destroy everything I believed in. Maybe it was a good thing that my match didn’t want me. We were from two different worlds and a relationship between us would surely never work.

That thought alone fed the multiple drinks I sculled back. I didn’t count how many I had. All I knew was that the more I had, the less I thought of him. 

The more alcohol I consumed, the more I began to let loose. I was at the bar, on the dance floor, talking to the group of guys who looked like they had never seen a bar before- probably why they let me talk to them even after I had spilt my drink on one of them.

Someone was pulling me away from the granite counter top of the bar. I had sat down, starting up a conversation with the bartender who chuckled at my every second sentence. 

I groan, the flashing lights catching my eyes and I wince. 

“Come on Y/n, Jace and I are taking you home.” Steph’s comforting words fill my ears.

I walk beside her lazily. “I’m cool with that.” I murmur, resting my weight on her.

“How much did you drink? You smell like half the bar.” She wrinkles her nose and laughs, the sound pathetic even to me. We’re outside the club now, the cold wind nipping at my ankles. Jace has pulled the car around and he’s holding the door open as I climb into the back seat.

“No spewing in my car Missy,” Jace scolds gently. “Wait until you get home.”

I grin at him sheepishly, sending him a thumbs up I rest back into the seat and I close my eyes. Someone shakes me awake awhile later and I startle, Steph frowning down at me.

“God, Y/n you look smashed.” She helps me back out the car as its pulled up out front our house, slightly onto the front lawn. 

“I don’t feel smashed.” I giggle at her, clutching onto her arm.

“I’m going to Jace’s house so once I’ve let you in the front door I want you to go straight to your room, do you think you can manage that or do you want my help?” She sounds so strict and I salute her, nodding my head.

“I can do it boss.” I grin and she helps me up the front steps onto the small decking. Unlocking the door she holds it open for me and I lean on the wall, tailing my way into the dark house.

“Are you sure you will be okay?” Steph asks, worry in her tone.

“I’ll be okay Steph, Mum’s here and if I really need help I will go ask her.” I tell her, feeling a hint of sobriety. 

She looks at me skeptically and I shoo her, closing the door. I wait until I hear the car drive off before making my way to my room at the end of the hallway.

I grip the handle of the door, finding the small trip to the bedroom easier than I expected. When the door swings open, my lamps already on and the light stings my eyes.

“What the-” I don’t finish what I was saying, the sight of my soulmate sitting on my bed causes all my words to disappear. 

“Where the fuck where you?” He hisses at me, his eyes dark slits. Standing up, my Match marches over to me, the scent of his cologne wafting around me.

I hiccup, brushing past him leisurely. “Out.”

“It’s two O’clock in the fucking morning, I got here at 10 and I’ve been waiting 4 hours for you, wondering if something bad has happened to you, and all you can tell me is that you’ve been out?” He’s furious. Every word is coated with venom yet my mind finds no reason to take him seriously.

“I don’t care if you’ve been waiting. Why are you even here?” I groan, tugging off my shoes and placing them into my closet on the shoe stand.

“I was here to fucking talk about all that gooey shit you spilled out yesterday about soulmates.” He seethes, shutting the closet after me as I left it open. 

“Well I was busy, get over it.” I start to unzip the back of my dress when his hand stops my movement.

“What are you doing?” He breathes, and I shrug his hands off, my dress slipping slightly down my body.

“Changing into my pajamas, what does it look like?” I glare at him, forgetting that I was about to be nearly naked in front of my soulmate. I unzip it the rest of the way, my dress falling to the floor and I step out of it.

I open a dresser draw, my back to my match, and I take of my bra, chucking the large shirt over my head which falls halfway down my thighs. When I turn back to face him, he’s frozen, his eyes never leaving my figure.

He coughs, clearing his throat. “How much have you had to drink?” 

“Eh, a few.” I lie, tying my hair up in a bun.

He sighs, walking closer to me, stopping to see if I move away. I don’t.

“Where did you go tonight Y/n?” He asks me, a lot calmer then before.

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business Match.” I’ve riled him back up.

“Stop calling me that.” He demands me, his hands clenching.

“It’s not like I have anything else to call you.” I retort, closing the distance between us until I’m inches from him.

“What about calling me by my name?” He growls at me, his eyes black and the light illuminating the side of his face.

“I don’t know your name you dweeb.” I push his chest angrily, he doesn’t move an inch.

“How do you not know my name? I’m your fucking match.” His arms splay and I glare heatedly at him.

“I don’t know it because someone decided to skip the 20 questions stage of our relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship!”

“If you don’t tell me your name then I’m not telling you where I was tonight, or who I was with.” My intoxicated mind speaks for me, providing me with words that will fuel the fight.

“What do you mean who you were with?” If its even possible, his anger heightens. 

“Sorry Match, but I can’t answer that.” I say smugly, crossing my arms.

“My names Shawn, now talk.” He spits at me, I was thankful my parents weren’t on the same floor as me or they surely would have heard us by now.

“Full name?” I question slyly and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before continuing.

“Shawn Mendes.”

“Good boy.” I praise him and he scowls at me.

“Fucking talk.”

“I was with my sister and her boyfriend at the South Side Club. I drank and danced and then they took me back home.” I explain to him.

“Of course you went there.” He says more to himself then to me. He turns away from me, rubbing his jaw lightly. “Did you see anyone wearing this jacket there?”

He points to the same jacket he was wearing the day I met him, the white Libertas phrase dim in this lighting.

“I can’t remember, I was too busy getting smashed.” I say dryly, and he rolls his eyes.

“I can tell, you smell like you had a bath in alcohol.”

I stare at him, watching as he picks up some trinkets off my bookcase, examining them, and then putting them back. It was weird to see my soulmate in my own room, where I spent my life. It was even stranger how easily he fitted into it.

“What are you doing here Shawn?” His name runs smoothly off my tongue and his shoulders tense as I say it.

“That’s not important right now. You’re drunk and you probably won’t even remember this tomorrow.” He says tonelessly, crossing the room to pull the bed sheets away for me to hop into bed. 

“Will you tell me tomorrow then?” I whisper, abiding and slipping under the covers.

“Maybe, you may not want to see me tomorrow.” He sounds tired and I finally notice the dark circles under his eyes. He moves the quilt so its covering me again and I snuggle into them further, letting him tuck me in.

“I’ll always want to see you, you’re my match.” I yawn, feeling my eyes flutter shut.

“I don’t want you to want me just because I’m your match.” He tells me quietly, flicking my light off and zipping his jacket up.

“Right, because you don’t want a soulmate.” I reply, feeling immensely tired after the night I had.

I’m not sure whether I had already started dreaming but I swear I heard Shawn say one last thing before he left.

“I want you to want me because I’m me not because you were told to.”

Originally posted by kdrauhl

"The Upcoming Ball"

Summary: As a new professor at Hogwarts you can’t wait for the Yule Ball.

Note: I know this gif isn’t of Snape, but I really like it. Thinking of making a part two, but I’m not sure. Opinions are much appreciated.

Originally posted by blackfloralia

As a professor at Hogwarts you couldn’t wait for the Yule Ball. As a young girl you lived in America because of the work your father was in, thus attending Ilvermorny. However, once you graduated you moved to Scotland and sought work at Hogwarts as an Alchemy professor. When Dumbledore contacted you for the position you were beside yourself with joy.

“Professor Y/L/N?” Snape’s voice interrupted your reminiscing.

“Sorry. What?” You apologised and turned your attention to the tall man.

“Ugh, you’re as bad as the children.” He said as he sat down across from you.

You watched the mysterious man and couldn’t help but thingk he’d make an interesting date to the Yule Ball.

Since your start at Hogwarts he seemed to take a particular liking of taunting you and even talking with you. He often walked down the halls with you, he’d never miss a beat to say something sarcastic or try pushing your buttons a little.

To you it was a wonderful time and you’d always tell him how much you enjoyed his company as you parted. Minerva always found a way to tease you about your schoolgirl crush on the man.

“As I was saying,” he said dryly, one again taking you out of your thoughts, “The Yule Ball is coming up and I’d much rather not teach the children to dance, would you do it instead?”

You nearly lost your composure for a moment.

“Me? Teach the children to dance to a ball I’ve never even been to?” You scoffed, “I’d rather not.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” He said and in one swift movement he got up and left the small lounge.

You wished you had said something different to make him stay longer, you loved having him around.


You were walking down to the professors’ lounge with Minerva laughing and talking about the upcoming ball. You entered the room and sat down in the armchair that was almost always empty.

The door swung open and in walked your crush.

“Hello Severus” Minerva greeted Snape with a smile and walked toward the door, “I forgot some things in my room.”

“Hello Minerva.” Snape said as she walked out.

“Y/L/N.” Snape’s cold greeting made you long to be greeted like Minerva.

“You know you can call me Y/N.” You said with a slight smile.

Snape made a sort of affirmative noise and cleared his throat.

“And if you’re mad at me for not teaching your students to dance I’m not sorry. They are your students, I would be willing to help if you needed it though.” You said without even looking at the man.

He made another grunting noise and sat down and huffed.

“Some of my female students are struggling with dancing, would you come to one of the class and show the dunderheads how to dance properly?” He asked, but it seemed more of a statement rather than a real question.

“Uh, um,” You were completely taken by surprise, “sure. What day?”

“Tomorrow, and please don’t be a stammering idiot.” He said and turned and left.

That man was such a mystery you wondered if you’d ever figure him out.


You couldn’t sleep last night, your brain constantly thinking of how Severus’s hands would feel on your hips if he decided to demonstrate a dance to the children. You dressed quickly and walked down to his room in the dungeons, your stomach in knots and images of what may come in your head.

The door was slightly ajar and you knocked lightly as you didn’t want to anger Severus by interrupting his class.

“Enter.” He said, “Ah, Professor Y/L/N. She is here to help me demonstrate the correct way to dance.”

The students smiled wearily and you took your place in front of them. Snape moved forward and swung his wand and music started to play. He closed the gap between the two of you and lightly put his hand on your hip, in that moment you felt your face go red and you avoided his eyes. He then took your hand in his, his hand was bony and cold. He then began to lead in the dance.

“Alright now you all start.” Snape said not pausing the dance.

“Your hand is cold.” You stated, trying to make yourself feel less embarrassed.

He said nothing.

After a few moments he looked down at you and cleared his throat.

“Will you be attending the ball with anyone?” He asked in almost a whisper, as if he was scared one of the children would hear

“Well one of the students asked me to go with them, but I thought it’d be inappropriate, so no, I will be going alone.” You said in a lighthearted manner .

“Ah.” He paused, “would you like to go with me?” He said unsteadily.

A smile etched itself on your face and you blushed again, “I’d love to, but you have to promise me one thing.” You said.

“That is?” His voice now a little more confident now.

“You have to dance with me at least once, I’ve never been to a ball and want to experience it in full.” You confessed to him.

He nodded but didn’t say anything. He stopped dancing and signaled for the children to do the same. No more than a minute later the dismissal bell rang and the children filed out.

As you began to walk to the door Severus stopped you, “I think I can manage one dance.” He said as if it were a big deal.

Your smile widened, “Wonderful.”


Thinking about writing a part 2, opinions?

anonymous asked:

hello!! requesting sleepy!james because the world needs more cute sleepy boys c:

read on ao3 }

Lily has been staring at him for the past 3 hours. Not in a creepy way, of course… but it’s kind of hard not to. 

He yawns, shuffles around in his seat to get comfortable and then stares at his book for about thirty seconds before his eyes start to flutter open and shut for a few minutes. Then his head suddenly drops, so quickly that the shock of it wakes him back up. Then he does the whole thing all over again.

He’s seriously been doing this for the past three hours and Lily is really starting to worry because he must have whiplash by now. Seriously.

And he is definitely running out of swear words, because each time he catches himself falling asleep he cusses. What starts off as the generic everyday eff this and eff that quickly turns into ‘blonking jaffa-cake bleeding bacon’ and it’s shocking how, in the tired state he is clearly in, he’s not running out of words to turn into said swear-words.

Also she’s been staring at him for the past three hours doing literally nothing. She has to do something.

“Would you like a coffee?” 

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osculum dare (m)

osculum dare » to give a kiss

 The two of you had one rule. a rule that if broken, your sexual relationship would be over. A rule as simple as; no kissing.

Originally posted by keepingupwithbts

MEMBER: min yoongi x reader

GENRE: smut, romance, friendswithbenefits!au

WORDS: 5 907

RATED: m for mature; sexual content, dirty, not holy

A/N: the ultimate bias wrecker + short scenario = filth. it killed me writing this. tell the devil hi from me. and thank you for 800, baes

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Love Bites (Stan Uris/Reader)

Originally posted by shewasinthedeadlights

(A/N: It’s almost 3 AM so I have no idea about the story itself, but I am pretty sure this title is the magnum opus of my entire writing career. I might as well delete my blog now because there is no reason for me to make anything else anymore. Jk but I hope this doesn’t suck.)

Request: “REQUEST TO SAVE THE EDS Stan X Reader (in relationship) were during one of the loser’s team battles v.s Penny she gets isolated and targeted. Imagine the losers surprise to find her surrounded by them, taunting her, circling around her, he fear being her friends turning, HURTING, and hating her if they knew who she really was, her fear being revealed that she’s scared of those closest to her hating and turning on her? Except it causes the reader to pull away from the crew in fear post the battle”

Warnings: Violence and spookiness lol

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I’m the real deal // Shawn Mendes

Request:  Can you do a badboy imagine plz. I don’t really care what’s it’s about lol I just really like the idea of badboy shawn.

Authors note: So this isn’t as bad o as I thought but I looove writing these so I’ll probably do another ayyy

“You need to leave me alone” I slam my locker shut, giving Shawn a glare before turning my back on him and walking off on him.

“No can do sweetheart.” I can hear the smirk in his voice and I roll my eyes. I stop abruptly, causing him to crash into my back. I spin around to face him.

“And why not? Honey,” I reply, watching the humor dance in his eyes.

“Because I’m incapable of going about my day without talking to you.” He winks, grinning, and I scoff.

“Talking? More like annoying the heck out me.” I spit, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You know what?” Shawn asks, pushing the sleeves of his long sleeved black shirt back up over his elbow,  exposing his forearms and I swallow at the sight.

“What?” I ask, but the bite to my words has disappeared. Its replaced by quick breaths and a weakness in my knees. I think Shawn’s arm made me weak, and I think he noticed.

“I think that you really like me-” I cut him off.

“I don’t think that’s the case-” He stops me.

“Oh but I think it is. I know you’re affected by my touch just as much as I am by yours.”

I freeze, eyes slowly meeting his. I gravitated towards him. We were like magnets and I was drawn to him.

“Yeah,” I whisper unconsciously. I rest my back against the lockers as he takes a step closer towards me, hand brushing back some of my stray hair behind my ear and I shiver.

He was too close, all I could think was Shawn. He was right there in front of me and his cologne smelt so good

“Yeah,” He mumbles back, his nose slightly brushing mine and all I could do was stand there with no defensive, his brown eyes locked on my own. 

I mumble something incoherent and he chuckles, pressing his body against mine so that I was sandwiched between the lockers and his body. 

“What are you doing?” I say louder, my hands hanging limply by my sides. 

“Trying to show you-” He breathes out slowly. “That you can’t deny we’re attracted to each other.”

For some reason that snaps me out of the haze I was stuck in. Shoving him off me I back away away from him.

“I don’t want to be some one night stand Shawn. I’m not some girl that you can add to your reputation. I’m the real deal.” My hands are shaking, why are they shaking?

“I get that you feel a need to keep up your bad ‘status’ but I’m not someone you can just mess with.” He doesn’t move towards me yet he doesn’t back away either.

“I don’t want to mess with you Y/n.” He says softly. Its silent in the hallway- not surprising as it was lunch and everyone was outside enjoying the sunny day. We stare out each other for what feels like hours but merely minutes.

“Good. ‘Cos you can’t.” I try to sound strong but I feel my resolve crumbling at every word Shawn says. I can’t help but start to give in.

“I don’t want you to be some one night stand- If anything I want you to be an every night stand.” He chuckles and I roll my eyes again.

“Shawn,” I say sharply and he shrugs his shoulders, the boyish grin he’s wearing making a smile appear on my own face.

“I know I’m known as a bad guy for my attitude towards some things but sweetheart, if you just gave me a chance- one chance, I’ll show you that I can be the best thing that ever happened to you.” He sounded so sure of himself that I took a moment to let his words to sink in. 

“Okay,” I say before I can think about it. His eyebrows raise in surprise.


“You want me to reconsider?”

“No way- your mine now,” He grins and I bite my lip to hold back a smart remark. Neither of us seem to know what to say and I rock back on my heels, contemplating what to do now that I agreed to give Shawn a chance.

“Well I guess this is goodbye-” I’m cut off by Shawn sweeping me off my feet and pressing me back into the lockers on the other side of the hallway, his mouth on my own. 

I can’t seem to move- my brain wasn’t functioning, Shawn was kissing me. Then it kicks in and kissing him just as feverishly. He pulls back a centimeter and I can’t help but laugh, Shawn smiling back wildly. 

“Not too bad for a good girl,”

Originally posted by fearless-man

braveten  asked:

5 headcanons about Victor annoying Yuuri (or Yuuri annoying Victor)

(these are 100% inspired by chrissy teigen’s tweets, and also by our chats when we were talking about her lmao)

1. victor has taken to doing this thing where he sends yuuri nudes and then says, “sorry wrong person.” it’s funny, it’s really funny, it’s comedy gold—until it isn’t. until at one point yuuri texts back, “no worries, happens to me all the time :p” and then victor realizes. he realizes that he’s never, not once, gotten a nude from katsuki yuuri. “wait what?” he types back, fingers flying over the touch screen. “yuuri? yuuri. who’ve you been sending yours to??” but no response comes, and victor is frantically shoving the groceries into the recyclable bag. he ignores the looks he gets from the cashier and surrounding customers. then he’s stumbling out of the store, pulling his phone out again and hitting call.

“what does that mean?” he asks, no preamble. // “hmm?” yuuri’s voice is nonchalant on the other line, innocent. // “yuuri,” victor whines. // but yuuri only yawns: “sorry, which one are you? i have so many contacts saved under the name ‘boyfriend’ so you’re going to have to identify yourself.” 

victor never tries to be funny again. 

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