class now be back in a bit~

So BNHA Smash! chapter 92 is ABSOLUTE GOLD.

NO. FOR REAL. 

So it’s a Bakugou-centered chapter this time, and the premise is this: Bakugou had been attacked by a villain on the way to school and was affected by the Quirk “Good Face”. What this Quirk does is that it “corrects” his behavior by turning him into a SHOUJO MANGA MALE PROTAGONIST. 

Any time he tries to scowl or glare? He gets a “bishounen” face and shoujo manga sparkles.

 Any time he tries to curse? He autocorrects to a ridiculous catchphrase with hilarious poses. 

And when he actually tries to outright threaten somebody? HE ENDS UP AGGRESSIVELY FLIRTING. WITH EVERYONE.

And the best part? Bakugou is COMPLETELY AWARE OF WHAT HE’S DOING AND HE STILL CAN’T CONTROL IT.

Other highlights include:

  • Sero and Kaminari screaming (mockingly) like fangirls.
    “KYAAA! PLEASE DYE ME IN YOUR COLORS, KATSUKI-SAMA~~!!”

  • Bakugou accidentally flirting with All Might, who is terrified until Deku explains everything. (Bonus: Bakugou blushing furiously when he returns to his senses). 

  • Bakugou flirting with Kirishima (WHO FLIRTS BACK) during a class training exercise in which Bakugou is supposed to play the part of the hostage (tied up) and Kirishima is the villain. 

    Bakugou: “No matter how long you keep me bound, you’ll never bind my heart.”
    Kirishima: “Interesting! It’s a challenge! Let’s see whose heart will give in first!” 
    Iida (the rescuing hero): “Um, what?”

  • Bakugou (acting villain) flirting with Yaoyorozu (acting hostage), who freaks out so badly that she accidentally BASHES HIS FACE IN. Cue Jirou (acting hero) walking in to find Bakugou laying in a puddle of blood at Yaomomo’s feet. 

  • THE HERO BAKUGOU RESCUING (and lowkey flirting with) THE HOSTAGE MIDORIYA FROM THE VILLAIN TODOROKI WITH A PRINCESS CARRY HOLY SHIT IS THIS REAL. 

… But then he chokes up blood at the cheesy stuff he was saying to Midoriya and, um…

At the very least, he DOES look a bit sorry for what he did afterwards.

And it ends with Iida and Mineta holding back waves of fangirls Bakugou gained through the day from the other classes. Bakugou TRIES to yell at them to go away, only for the “Good Face” quirk to activate to flirt with them AGAIN.

“KYAAAA, KATSUKI-SAMA~~!!”

I MIGHT actually try to translate this now. It’s too good to pass up. 

Aisles [M]

Aisle Two

Summary: Jungkook was your best friend. You held onto his secrets. And he knew all of yours. Except for one. One that would change your friendship forever. You were in love with him.

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook

Genre: bestfriend!au, college!au, angst, smut

Word Count: 6,772

Originally posted by sugutie

Aisle One Aisle Two Aisle Three

Your apartment was like a ghost town. The emptiness echoed every time you stepped foot in the sad space. His shoes were missing by the front door. Your keys were never on the side table. There was evidence that people lived there. Ramen packets in the trash. Used coffee cups on the sink. But no one had really been around for two weeks.

Two weeks. This was the longest you had gone without speaking to Hoseok, yet alone seeing him. The fight at Yoongi’s was the worst you ever had. His sharp tongue dug wounds that even stitches couldn’t heal. He had been keeping himself occupied at Yoongi’s or the dance studio. Your heart sank into your chest anytime you came home and heard the washing machine running, only to find that the person who was wearing them was nowhere to be found.

A small part of you enjoyed the quiet. You were able to spread all your materials out on the coffee table. Bags of chips and half empty iced lattes were littered in between stacks of highlighted notes. He wasn’t there to yell at you when you fell asleep face first on your microbiology homework, the lines of the pages leaving imprints on your cheeks.

You did miss him. The two of you had been friends for years. But this time it was not your turn to say sorry. If Hoseok wanted things to go back to normal, he would have to swallow his large amount of pride and apologize.

But you had never heard Hoseok apologize in his life. 

Keep reading

Height
  • Draco is taller than Harry
  • But not by one or two inches though
  • By over a foot
  • At first Harry didn’t notice, because Draco tried to stay seated as often as possible
  • And when he stood or walked his shoulders were hunched and his head was bowed low
  • Since the war and trials that followed almost every trace of pride in his demeanour had been erased
  • Draco hates his newfound height
  • His legs won’t fit underneath the school benches
  • The dormitory entrance is so low he keeps banging his head against it
  • And the people who want to look down on him, who deserve to look down on him, need to crane their neck upwards to see his face
  • Which causes them to hate him even more
  • When Pansy sees him struggle, she starts to wear high spiked heels around him
  • Blaise follows suit
  • And it helps, because now people notice them before Draco
  • Except Harry of course, who just keeps staring at the blond like he’s the only thing in the world worth looking at
  • Which, according to a half drunk confession made by one H. Potter, he totally is, and what does it matter that Blaise is wearing high heels Ron? He’s never going to be prettier that Malfoy anyway
  • “Well, if Malfoy’s so pretty, then why don’t you go annoy him instead of me?” A more than half drunk Ron tells him, because Zabini looks nice in heels, but he’ll never outclass Hermione, and he’d like some alone time with her to tell her just that
  • So Harry goes out to find Draco
  • And he finally notices their height difference when he quite literally bumps into the pale boy
  • Because even for a half drunk Harry it’s hard to miss that he’s not standing nose to nose with his former nemesis
  • He’s standing nose to a-bit-below-the-nipples with him
  • “You’re tall.” Harry mumbles as he looks up (and up and up and up)
  • “You’re tiny.” Draco shoots back, a little bit of his snark coming back to him now that he’s more used to the stares (and also quite tipsy)
  • “How can you kiss when you’re so tall?” 
  • “Care to find out, Potter?”
  • And that’s how Drarry happened
4 tips for getting ahead after falling behind

So ‘it’ happened. You got sick, you scheduled too much at once, you had a bad day (or week). We’ve all been there and it sucks. And now you’re behind and you’re feeling overwhelmed. These are just a few tips I have for getting back on track (and hopefully ahead) after falling behind.

  • If you are behind on homework it’s time to prioritize. You’re at a point where it might be worth it to let the tiny assignments that aren’t worth very much sit on the back burner until you’ve dealt with the important stuff. So what are your priorities?
    • Do you have work in a class that you’re doing really well in and you feel like you can set it aside and hand it in late, or you can afford to miss the assignment without screwing up your final grade? Great, set it aside and leave that stress for later.
    • Do you have work in a class you’re terrified of failing? Okay, focus in on that. If you don’t eliminate the chief point of stress first you’re going to find it very hard to focus on anything else.
  • Do you have exams coming up that you haven’t studied for? This is rough but you need to decide whether sleep or studying is better for you. There’s no wrong choice here; it’s different for everyone. I am a ‘needs sleep’ person but my roommate is a ‘stay up and get shit done’ person. If you know you can’t function without a decent amount of sleep then ixnay the idea of an all night all together.
    •  Now that you’ve figured that out it’s time to focus; what topics are you doing the worst in? Get started on figuring out what it is you don’t know. 
    • Also make sure to write down what you do know and keep looking over that constantly so you don’t lose the knowledge you already have. 
    • Now figure out what methods you actually have time for; if you’re in a crunch you may not have time for flashcards. I find that when it a crunch it’s helpful to essentially begin compiling a cheat sheet.
    • Write down everything you could possibly need for the exam as though you were going to be able to take it into the exam. Make it clear! Make it easy to glance at! Don’t waist time on making it look pretty!
    • As you go through creating the sheet make sure that you would know what kind of problem or topic that the concept/formula would go with and how you would use it to solve a problem.
    • The above means that you aren’t just copying over formulas, dates, quotes, etc.; You are committing the CONTEXT to your memory and if need be to your sheet.
  •  Is the problem reading? Heaven knows that’s been mine this week! First thing first: READ for the NEXT class. Don’t start with what you should’ve read last week; playing catch up is stressful and means that you may do a ton of work and still not be prepared for the next class.
    •  If you come across parts that don’t make sense because you haven’t read the earlier stuff skip back and skim those bits. 
    • Once you’ve read for the next class you can decide what the best option is for continuing. 
    • Either start at the back end of what you’re behind on or work your way backwards.
  • Is it an essay? Is it more than one? Okie doke. Break those kiddos down into the sections you think you need; intro, para 1, para 2, etc, conclusion. 
    • Alright, now give those sections titles and maybe like a brief summary. 
    • Okay now you’re ready; pick one section from one of your papers to start on. It doesn’t have to be the intro you just need to get started. I like to start with ones that require a bit of research on my part so that I can really get the ball rolling and start collecting articles. 
    • Then you should either set a timer for about thirty minutes and switch off every time the timer goes off, or (my preferred method) write until you finish the section before deciding which one to work on next. 
    • The real key is making sure that you change sections when you find yourself losing steam even if it’s in the middle of a sentence. Sometimes I start a sentence and then forget where I was going with it and it throws off the whole game so by changing sections you allow yourself to refresh and come back with new eyes.

That’s what I’ve got for now, I hope that some of this helps. I also want to remind you that you are not a bad person for getting behind whatever the reason was. Sometimes it happens even when you’re paying attention so try not to worry too much about it! If you find yourself getting overwhelmed and way too stressed out remember to let yourself breath and walk away for a few minutes. I wish you the best of luck and my ask/messenger is always open if you need anything.

2

Whether you come back by page or by the big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.

Flirt (One)

intro one two three four
genre:
fuckboy!jungkook, college!au, smut?, angst?
words: 4.1k
member: jungkook  (ft. taehyung)

despising jeon jungkook as he hooks up and steals your best friend away from you.

(credits to gif owner for the gif that kills all)

Originally posted by bangtanofarmys

“Where are you going?” 

“To see lover boy.”

Keep reading

everybody wants to love you!

anonymous requested: for the soulmate prompt thing at first i was like aww for number 18 but then i just imagined modern reddie and eddie has fucking all star by smashmouth stuck in his head who the fuck is singing all start oh it’s richie (also on ao3)

Everyone knew that if a song was stuck in your head, it was because your soulmate was singing it. Eddie had always thought it was cute until it began happening to him. Now the main reason he wanted to meet his soulmate was to strangle them for singing such annoying songs.

Eddie struggled to concentrate on the textbook in front of him. He groaned and closed the book, resting his face in his hands. Bill gave him a concerned look over his laptop.

“Something wrong, Eddie?” he asked.

The brunet looked at him in exasperation. “They’re singing again. Why do they always have to start singing whenever I’m doing something important!?”

Bill smiled sympathetically. “What is it this time?”

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me / I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed / She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb / In the shape of an “L” on her forehead

“Fucking ‘All Star’ by Smash Mouth. I hate my life, Bill.”

His friend laughed. “You say that now but you’ll change your mind when you meet your soulmate.”

The hypochondriac rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Bill. You’re not the one with a soulmate that sings meme songs and weird indie shit. I wish my soulmate sang pretty songs like yours,” he grumbled.

Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play / Hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show on, get paid / And all that glitters is gold / Only shooting stars break the mold

Eddie whined again and buried his face in his arms.

“I want to die.”

He shot Bill a glare when he laughed.

-

“Are we rehearsing tonight?” Bill asked the lead singer and founder of their band.

Richie groaned. “I don’t want to but we have to keep practicing that song we’re gonna cover for the show on Friday, which is two days from now. So yeah, we’re rehearsing.”

Bill snorted. “Alright, I’ll let Bev know then.”

He left to call their bassist and Richie leaned back in the lounge chair in the Student Union. He began to hum the tune of their new song. The trashmouth pulled out his notebook and scribbled down some notes and lyric ideas.

I come home in the morning light / My mother says when you gonna live your life right / Oh mother dear we’re not the fortunate ones / And girls they wanna have fun / Oh girls just want to have fun

Richie smiled wide as he stilled his hand. He really wanted to meet his soulmate. From what he could gather by their taste in music, they’d be fun to be around.

“What are you smiling about?”

He looked up. Bill sat down across from him, eyebrow raised knowingly. Richie’s cheeks reddened as he looked back to his notebook.

When the working / When the working day is done / Oh when the working day is done oh girl / Girls, they wanna have fun

“My soulmate’s singing.”

Bill nodded, a smirk forming. “Beverly’s on her way,” he told him. “She’s bringing dinner, also.”

“God bless her fucking soul.”

-

Eddie watched as Stan threw himself dramatically on the couch in his apartment. He groaned loudly before regaining his composure and sitting up.

“Everything okay, Stan?” Eddie asked, genuinely concerned for his friend.

The curly haired teen looked up at him. “Yes and no.”

The brunet raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, I’m fine as in there isn’t anything actually wrong with me. No, I’m not fine because my soulmate won’t stop singing love songs.”

Eddie gave him a jealous look. “I’d take that over getting ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ stuck in my head every hour.”

Stan snorted. “I really want to meet them but it’s unlikely. I just hope the chances are good enough that we go to the same university.”

“I get what you mean. I want to meet my soulmate and beat the crap out of them for getting all those shitty songs stuck in my head, but yeah, I also want to meet them for the obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Eddie, but your soulmate sounds like a fucking nightmare,” his friend said. “Anyway, ready to start this dumbass history project?”

Eddie groaned and went over to the TV and turned it on.

“By the way, my roommate might be back, like, halfway through this documentary,” he explained as he inserted the DVD.

“I’m warning you now but history is honestly the most boring subject so don’t get mad at me if I fall asleep, which is very likely. Just pay extra attention,” Stan told him, pulling his feet up on the couch.

Eddie rolled his eyes and sat with him on the couch, pressing the play button. He tried to focus but the dull voice of the narrator explaining the French Revolution was making it hard. That and the new song stuck in his head.

Your sister thinks that I’m a freak / She’s been ignoring my calls, we haven’t spoken in a week / I get so drunk that I can’t speak / Yeah, nothing’s working and the future’s looking bleak and I say

“Really? Now of all times?”

“Song stuck in your head?” Stan asked as he repositioned himself to lie down.

Eddie nodded miserably. “Yeah, and it sounds loud. You know what I mean.”

“No, not really.”

Three beers and I’m so messed up, get drunk and I can’t shut up / She says that I drink too much / I fucked up and she hates my guts / She says that I need to grow up

“It always happens when I really need to focus. I feel like they know,” Eddie explained.

“Well, block it out and pay attention. I can feel my soul dying as this documentary progresses.”

The hypochondriac laughed at his friend and drew his legs up on the couch so he was sitting crisscross.

I’ll drink ‘til I’m staring at the ceiling / I’ll be just fine I’m numb and losing feeling / I can’t tell lies anymore

“What are we even supposed to do for this assignment?” Stan asked, looking over at Eddie.

He shrugged. “I think we’re supposed to watch the documentary and then write some questions? Our professor said he’d pick the best ones and use them as essay questions for the next test.”

“Shit.”

I just don’t know what to do, I’m still fucked up over you / She says that I drink too much / Hawaiian red fruit punch / She says I need to grow up

“It shouldn’t be too bad considering the French Revolution is pretty straightforward,” said Eddie.

His friend groaned again, leaning his head back against the couch. “Kill me.”

True to his word, Stan fell asleep about ten minutes in. Eddie tried his best to pay attention, scribbling down possible ideas for questions, but four more songs came and went. The documentary had just ended when he heard the apartment door open. He looked up from the TV where he was removing the disc.

“Hey,” Eddie waved. “How was practice?”

Bill dropped his bookbag on the ground and headed into the kitchen.

“It was good,” he told Eddie as he poured himself a bowl of cereal before draping himself over the armchair. “We got a lot of stuff done and perfected the two covers we’re doing for Fridays show. Which you better still be going to.”

Eddie rolled his eyes when Bill gave him a pointed look. “I’m going.”

He grinned. “Good. Anyway, what the hell were you watching?”

“It was for a stupid assignment for my history class. Speaking of, Stanley, wake up! It’s over.”

He shoved Stan with his foot, jerking him awake.

“Okay, first off? Rude. Secondly, your couch is very uncomfortable, please tell me you don’t make guest sleep here.”

Eddie shrugged at him. “Do you wanna, like, stay and get take out or something?”

Stan stood up, stretching his arms over his head, causing his shirt to ride up a bit. “No, I should probably get back to my apartment and hope my roommate hasn’t burned it down,” he replied.

He seemed to just now notice Bill. “Oh, you must be Eddie’s roommate. I’m Stanley.”

Bill smiled at him and Eddie noticed Stan’s cheeks flush. “Bill.”

“Nice to meet you. Anyway, I should head out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

Eddie said his goodbyes as he walked out of the apartment. He noticed how his roommate’s eyes lingered on the doorway.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, is he single?” Bill asked, looking back at Eddie.

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head as he walked back to his room.

“What, Eddie? Are you going to answer my question or not?” his roommate shouted after him.

He ignored him in favor of his phone vibrating. He checked to see that it was a text from Stan.

[ from: bird boy ] Okay so uhh

[ from: bird boy ] Your roommate is hot as fuck

[ from: bird boy ] Like,, raw me please

[ to: bird boy ] never ever ever make me read those words ever again in my life

[ from: bird boy ] Pass the word on to him I’m begging you

[ to: bird boy ] im blocking you

-

“Is it okay if my roommate joins us for lunch? I promised I’d go with him last week but obviously forgot and then made plans with you. He just texted me asking where we’re meeting.”

Richie looked up and Bill and laughed. “Fine with me, Big Bill. You talk a lot about your roommate. I’m excited to meet him.”

Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you / Slow down, they don’t love you like I love you / Back up, they don’t love you like I love you / Step down, they don’t love you like I love you / Can’t you see there’s no other man above you? / What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you / Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you / Oh, down, they don’t love you like I love you

He cracked a smile. “I really want to meet my soulmate.”

Bill raised an eyebrow.

“Beyoncé.”

His friend snorted and rolled his eyes before returning to texting his roommate about his whereabouts.

How did it come down to this? / Scrolling through your call list / I don’t wanna lose my pride, but I’m a fuck me up a bitch / Know that I kept it sexy, and know I kept it fun / There’s something that I’m missing, maybe my head for one

“Okay, he’s on his way. I told him I’d order for him so let’s get going.”

Richie nodded and followed Bill into the restaurant. They ordered their food, with Bill ordering also for his roommate, before diving deep into conversation.

“Bill, I swear to god, if you ask about him again I’m going to kill you.”

A short brunet stopped abruptly behind Bill, unaware of Richie’s presence. He took this time to admire him. He was cute. Really cute. Richie grinned.

“Hiya,” he said with a grin, taking the newcomer’s eyes off his friend.

“This is my friend Richie. Richie, this is my roommate Eddie,” Bill explained. “He’ll be having lunch with us if that’s okay with you.”

Eddie gave Richie a quick once over and a small smile before sitting down next to Bill. Their food arrived shortly after and they began to eat.

“So, Eddie,” the trashmouth began. “Are you coming to our show on Friday?”

Eddie looked up, his look a bit skeptical. “Our show?” he repeated.

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about the band from Bill.”

“You’re in that band?”

Richie laughed. “Eds, I formed that band!”

He grimaced. “Don’t call me Eds.”

The dark-haired teen reached over and pinched his new friend’s cheek. “But its cute, like you!”

Eddie slapped his hand away, only looking mildly embarrassed. He glanced at Bill.

“Is he always like this?” he asked.

Bill looked at his friend and sighed. “Sadly.”

Richie placed his hand on his chest in mock offense. “You hurt me, Bill. This isn’t how you were treating me last night. Why do you always have to act so different when we’re in public?” he whined as he began to pretend to cry dramatically.

“Beep beep, Richie.”

Richie grinned wide and pushed his chair back. “I have to go. You’d better be at that show tomorrow, Eddie, or I will be very sad!”

He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed toward the exit.

“He didn’t pay,” he heard Eddie say to Bill.

“This isn’t the first time.”

Richie waved over his shoulder and blew Bill a kiss. He winked at Eddie, his grin widening when he saw him blush.

-

Friday finally rolled around and Eddie decided to invite Stan to Bill’s band’s show. He made sure to specifically mention that his roommate was in this said band because he knew Stanley would never go otherwise.

“Can you please stop talking about you and my roommate fucking,” Eddie pleaded, pressing his fingers to his temples. “And are you sure you still want to go? You weren’t looking too good earlier.”

“It’s the depression,” Stan replied, giving him a look. “But I’m okay now.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Let me know if you want to leave at any time and we will.”

Can I get your number? / Can I get you into bed? / When we wake up in the morning / Will you give me lots of head?

“Oh, that’s nice,” Eddie sighed as they got closer to their destination.

“Another song?”

Eddie nodded.

“Me too. Or at least parts of a song.”

Everybody wants to love you / Everybody wants to love you! / Everybody wants to love you

They approached the venue, easily identifiable by music and cheering. They paid the entry fee and walked inside. Eddie was immediately greeted by sweaty, dancing bodies and loud music. He saw Richie up on stage, strumming a guitar. He spotted Bill in the back on the drums, and two other individuals: a girl on bass and a dark-skinned guy on another guitar. He couldn’t help but stare at Richie, who caught his gaze. The dark-haired boy grinned and winked at him before continuing with the song.

Will you lend me your toothbrush? Will you make me breakfast in bed? Ask me to get married And then make me breakfast again!

Eddie watched as the rest of the band joined in for the chorus.

Everybody wants to love you.”

He froze. The Richie sang the next part alone.

Everybody wants to love you!

Eddie felt as if his skin was on fire. His hands started shaking and checked his pockets, cursing internally because of course he didn’t bring his inhaler.

“Eddie!” Stan snapped him out of his daze. Distantly he heard the band sing another line. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to throw up. Do you need me to take you to the bathroom?”

He could only nod. He didn’t think that he would react this way to meeting his soulmate. Stan grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd. He was dimly aware of the song ending and people cheering. He didn’t notice the look on Richie’s face when Stan pulled him into the bathroom. He turned the sink on and wet a paper towel, dabbing it on his face to cool himself down.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“The lead singer of that band? The one on the guitar?”

“Richie? Yeah, he’s my roommate and best friend. He’s also terrible. What about him?” Stan asked, genuinely concerned for his wellbeing.

Eddie stared at him. “He’s your roommate? You live with him?”

“Unfortunate, I know. Wait, how do you know him?”

“Bill introduced me.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Oh, god. You’re the guy he’s been gushing on about for the past twenty-four hours. It’s disgusting.”

“Says the guy who won’t shut up about my roommate,” Eddie accused.

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, what does you almost having an asthma attack have to do with Richie?” Stanley questioned, crossing his arms.

“Well he’s, uh, he’s my soulmate,” Eddie confessed.

The curly haired boy’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. How do you know? God, he’s going to be ecstatic when he finds out.”

Eddie reddened. “That song. It was stuck in my head on the walk over here. It sounded like it got so much louder when we came inside.”

Stan nodded. “Well, you have to tell him because he looked hurt when I had to drag you in here.”

“I literally only met him yesterday,” Eddie whined.

Stanley rolled his eyes. “Yet you like him! Man up and tell him that he’s your soulmate.” He gave Eddie a quick hug before exiting the bathroom.

Eddie took a deep breath. He moved to open the bathroom door but it was pushed open. Richie grabbed his hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

He short-circuited for a second. “I have to tell you something.”

Richie rubbed his thumb over the palm, making Eddie shiver. “Okay.”

Eddie looked away, cheeks red. “You’re my soulmate.”

“What?”

“On the walk here, I had that song you just played stuck in my head and I’d never heard it before,” Eddie admitted.

“What did you listen to before meeting Bill for lunch yesterday?” Richie asked him.

“Um, I listened to Beyoncé. Lemonade specifically, but I don’t know what this has to do with anything.”

Richie pushed him back against the bathroom wall and grabbed the sides of his face. He kissed him hard, hands moving from his cheeks to his waist. Eddie was thrown off guard but immediately regained his composure, kissing him back earnestly, his fingers curling in his shirt. Richie coaxed his mouth open, the wet sounds of mouths and tongues pressing together filled the small room.

“I can’t believe you just made out with me in a fucking bathroom. Do you know how germy and disgusting these places are?” Eddie panted as they broke apart.

“Relax, babe. It’s not like I’m fucking you in a stall,” he grinned and pressed his forehead to Eddie’s. “Unless you want me to.”

Eddie pushed him away. “Beep beep, Richie,” he used the phrase he heard Bill say yesterday to get him to shut up. “Absolutely disgusting.”

Richie laughed and kissed him again, this time gentler. He pulled back and placed a kiss on his temple, intertwining their fingers together.

“I gotta get back out there,” he said, pulling him toward the exit. “I’ll dedicate the next song to you, darlin’.”

Eddie smiled wide as his soulmate led him back out into the crowd. He’d strangle him for singing all those annoying songs another night. Tonight was all about them.

Doing it in class with Peter Parker

- at first he would just hold your hand or put his hand on your thigh
- he would be to scared to do anything else
- then one day you would tell him about a dream you had with him in it. And you were going at it in class.
- he felt a bit more confident
- he would start by putting his hand on your thigh and going up slowly and whisper dirty things to you.
- the first time you had jeans on so it was a bit more difficult
- the next day he would ask you to wear a skirt, you not know why would wear one.
- it’s NOT a one time thing
- he would tease you during boring class or whenever he’s bored and horny( which is 90% of the time)
- or a really quiet one
- “shhh baby we don’t wanna get caught now so we?”
- lucky for you, you sat in the back and the class would be dark
- he would get you all worked up and tell you to be quiet coz you don’t wanna get caught - “look at you doing the nasty in class” - dirty talk (which he learned from Tony, don’t ask) - in end of class you would be breathing heavily and would have flushed cheeks, while Peter sat grinning beside you. - “ let’s see if you can stay quiet in the next class Parker”

A/n: if you guys have anymore head cannons about Peter or anyone else feel free to send em in. I will be answering them tonight.
Kiss and Tell

Fandom: My Hero Academia
Characters/Relationship: Katsuki Bakugou, Ochako Uraraka, Kacchako
Genre: Gen/Romance
Rating: G
Length: 2384 words
Summary: Their lips brushed during a spar. It was an accident.

(basically, my take on the ‘accidental kiss’ trope)

[AO3]


It happened during a spar.

Uraraka quickly dodged Bakugou’s right hook, fist barely grazing her cheek as she moved out of range. She reached out to grab his outstretched hand, but he spun around before she could, seeing her strategy and crushing it with an explosion to the back. 

She grunted at the pain but refused to go down–she used the smoke to her advantage and put her training from Gunhead to good use; she locked her arms around his, using all her body weight to throw him overhead, catching him off guard–and before he could react, his back hit the ground with a resounding bang, the wind knocked out of his lungs. As he gasped, she took the chance to sit on his chest, pinning him down with her knee. 

Bakugou struggled against her grip as she tried valiantly to hold him down. 

“It’s not over yet, Uraraka!” He shouted, glaring with sharp eyes and quickly shoving her off of him, knocking her off balance. 

Soon, they devolved into wrestling each other on the ground, pushing and shoving and kicking, each trying to get the upper hand, victory just within grasp, until–

Their lips brushed.

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Unexpected

“Uhm, Harry?” Draco eyed his roommate suspiciously. He shifted nervously in his desk chair as Harry’s intense green eyes seemed to graze over him. The man had a weird look on his face and Draco did not like it.

“Yes Draco?” Harry replied, stepping out of the doorframe into their shared dorm.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Draco pushed his chair backwards until it collided with his desk. Then, when Harry showed no sign of slowing down he got up and stepped away, so he now almost had his back pressed against the wall behind him. He knew he was acting ridiculous, but so was Harry. If he didn’t know any better the green eyes coming towards him were filled with… with…

Lust was the wrong word, but it was definitely some sort of desire. And curiosity. And determination. And some form of fondness Draco could not place at all.

A combination scary enough to make him do one more step backwards. His heels hit the wall.

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I imagine that Harry and Draco’s first time together would be intense. It would be rough and needy and desperate, developing out of sexual tension built up over seven years of anger and frustration. It would peak and then slow to a quiet calm in just under ten minutes of absolute insanity.

And then, complete awkwardness. Like what the hell did we just do???? awkwardness.

They could both admit they enjoyed it. That was a bit obvious given the sounds they both had made. But wow this is super weird.

They try going back to normal–ignoring each other apart from polite nods from across the great hall. But when Harry catches Draco staring at him during class or in the eighth year common room he sees something he’s never seen before in those cool, grey eyes. Want.

Not just an “I want you right here and right now on this desk in this classroom” kind of way. It’s hesitant and curious. A clear desire to understand his own feelings towards his supposed rival. And every day Harry sees the want in those eyes become more determined. More fixed. More focused. Until finally, it seems he’s decided. And Harry has too.


I imagine their second time is more uncertain. They’re shy and uncomfortable and saying are we really doing this?? yeah I guess we’re doing this. There’s shaky laughs and blushing and nose bumping and Harry’s glasses dig into Draco’s cheek until one of them comes to their senses and is like yeah.. right.. I should probably take these off. And you should take those off too.. and yeah alright I guess everything’s coming off. And Draco kisses Harry and says “Potter, if you don’t stop narrating this I swear I’ll walk out that door.”

It’s messy and soft. And somehow even more exciting than the first time because they’ve had time to think about it. A lot of time. And amazingly, despite everything, both have come to the conclusion that this is worth it. This is right. And it was right all along.

Don’t Stop Us Now

@softkent ‘s 14 Days of Love fic-a-thon, day 6: ruined surprises!

It all started because Katya decided to have mercy on Eric and let him take morning classes this semester. WGSS120 was an amazing class, Professor Atley had the coolest stories about how postwar industrialization led to compulsive female domesticity, and his seatmate wasn’t the worst thing to see at 9:30 AM every Tuesday and Thursday. He would have almost been dreamy if he had the slightest knack for small talk. As it was, Eric didn’t even have a name to go on, just intent blue eyes and an ass that even the baggiest of shorts couldn’t mask.

One day, Eric decided to drop a hospitality bomb on the guy and see if he could coax a response out of him. They were both consistently early to class, so Eric budgeted ten minutes for a brief chat before class started and turned to Cute Guy with a winning smile on his face.

“So how about that reading, huh? I thought it was fascinating how cake mix became a prestige thing- everyone in my family bakes, and I don’t think we’ve used a box mix in forty years.”

“Yeah,” the guy said, “I think it had something to do with the scientific advancements they made in food preservation for the troops. Shelf stabilization wouldn’t have been nearly as achievable in earlier years.”

Miraculously, once you got onto a clear subject, Cute Guy was actually a decent conversationalist. Eric found himself losing track of time as they dissected last night’s chapters of Marling.

“And the American National Exhibition anecdote!” he giggled. “Who can even tell the difference between Russian and American Coke?”

“I bet it’s easier with all of the Soviet Union breathing down your back. ‘Da, cola of Mother Russia is vkusno!’”

“Nice accent,” Eric told Cute Guy.

“Really? Thanks, I’ll have to tell Geno. He’s always knocking my Russian. He’s, uh, a friend of my dad’s, and we both play hockey.”

“So that’s what your weird doodles are? Hockey plays?”

“Yeah, I’m captain of the hockey team here. We’re not half bad, if I say so myself.”

“Wow,” Eric enthused, “you must be a pretty good skater, then.”

“Yeah, I guess. I could teach you sometime, if you want. I’m Jack, by the way,’ Cute Guy said.

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Richie Tozier hasn’t spoken a word to anybody since he came to Derry in the middle of the school year. Until he talks to Eddie Kaspbrak.

Previous chapters: Chapter one


Chapter two.

The next time Eddie sees Richie he smiles. There is something that pulls at Richie’s lips in reply, but afterwards he simply turns his head in the other direction. Then that’s it. For the rest of the school week, Eddie waves to Richie between classes, but Richie doesn’t respond at all. He seems more tired, more bored and disinterested, like talking with Eddie the first time took too much effort and now he needs to charge up. Eddie tries not to let it get to him, but it’s hard; he’s spent all this time wondering about Richie and then finally he gets something, and then—it stops. Each time they pass, it’s as if Richie doesn’t even know Eddie is desperately trying to interact.

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Cranky || Peter Parker x Reader

@acrilic​: you could write like cute jealous!peter where you start spending a bit more time with another friend of yours and one day peter comes through your window cus he’s so done and wants to tell you that he likes you sm and he just starts rambling and you kiss him to shut him up efmldka i feel like that would be cute idk

Warnings: Swearing, angry teenager hormones™, prolly bad grammar, jealous & angry cinnamon roll Peter, kind of angsty??

Notes: i hope i don’t fuck this up :)) dammit this got too long. sorry for that. this is probably bs but heck it’s my first imagine. pls read it all it took like five hours and give me a shot :’) prolly going to write a series. enough talking,,, i hope you enjoy and ignore my self-loathing note. also give me your opinion on this! i would love to read all of y’all’s opinions.

****************************************************

Peter Parker and (Y/N). Two nerds, best friends, crushing on each other and too oblivious to notice. 

You had a Spanish exam the next day and you planned on hanging out on your house with Peter. You knew Peter’s little secret and you insisted him to come hang out with you instead of some bad guys that tried to kill him. You never could see him hurt, you couldn’t live with that in your conscience, that you could do something to help him.

Peter: (Y/N).
(Y/N): what
Peter: Sorry, but I can’t go to your place tomorrow… :( please forgive me.
(Y/N): you’re going to try and flirt with some cute girls with your suit, huh? go on, i forgive you dude. i’m your wingwoman ;) 
Peter: What? no…
Peter: Anyways thank you! You’re the best! We’ll hang out some other day, okay? :)
(Y/N): yeah, yeah. also please call me when you’re at the cafeteria, please i have no clue how to get there.

You lock your phone and stuck it in your pocket again, waiting impatiently for the class to end. After the bell rang, you were heading to the school’s Cafeteria. You were trying to guess where it was since it was pretty far from your classrom. Walking through several hallways and not finding anything, your eyes met with a cute boy, standing against the wall, looking through his phone and with his earbuds on and bopping his head up and down at the beat of the music.

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I imagine Elsewhere treating Taken students much as the American Navy speaks of the 52 submarines lost in WWII as being not sunk, but on “Eternal Patrol”, and always, sadly, waiting for the ships to return even though they know they won’t.

~~~~~

The bell tolls five times. All of the activities pause. Classes stop. The cafeteria falls quiet. Some students choose to stand, others kneel or sit. No one speaks.

The speakers crack to life, rarely used but twice a year. They were from an era when the world trembled not at the magic of Fae but the fear of nuclear fire of man. Now they serve a better role, if a sad one.

“Good morning, Elsewhere. There are currently two-hundred and seventeen students listed as Indefinitely Tardy. As winter break is approaching, all Indefinitely Tardy students are forgiven their tardiness and welcomed back to class. Your fellow students miss you.”

Seconds stretch and ache in the silence that follows. There’s a keenly painful moment of impossible hope in those few held breaths afterwards. Maybe this year, but no one really believes it. The bell tolls again, and life on Elsewhere resumes, if a bit solemn for the rest of the day.

Sometimes someone comes back to class. Sometimes they disappeared that year- sometimes they disappeared years ago. But they’re welcomed home. And every year, Elsewhere speakers crack to life, echoing over campus and the edge of The Trees, welcoming its wayward students home.

x

One Day

Summary: pastel!dan is a kindergarten teacher and is married to punk!youtuber!phil, who he hates and doesn’t get along with at all. They’re parents forced them to marry each other. Dan is unhappy but things finally take a turn.

Genre: AU, Fluff

Word Count: 2,792

A/N: I changed the prompt slightly because I can’t enough of pastel!dan.

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This is fine

‘Hmm’ 

Draco rolled on his sheets, his skin warm because of the covers and the soft light shining through his bedside window.

It was good, those new sheets, that new bedroom. The purple curtains weren’t something he would’ve picked himself but being an eighth year came with its advantages and disadvantages.

He turned again, his eyes still closed. Having his own room at Hogwarts was something he would never have thought could be so great. The silence, the privacy, being able to come and go whenever he wanted. Well, not that he could wander around past curfew but even if he did no one would know.

Draco finally opened his eyes, the sunlight strangely bright for that time of-

‘Fuck’

Draco launched himself off the covers, his legs still tangled in the sheets making him tumble straight to the floor. He cursed again, louder this time, but who cares. He was alone in his room, no one to wake up and, oh well, no one to wake him up either.

So he was late, even though he was sure he’d set up his wand to wake him up.

Great, now his morning had everything to be even shinier than normal. He hated getting up late and had managed just fine to arrive to classes in time until now. He hated it because being late meant receiving unwanted attention from professors who already despised him and classmates who wanted him dead. Potter was usually the one to burst into classes after it’d already begun but all he always got for that were welcoming smiles and good mornings.

Draco grabbed the first pair of black trousers he spotted near his nightstand, putting them on while searching for his belt. He wrapped his green and silver tie loosely around his neck, his black shirt still completely unbuttoned. Draco cast a quick cleaning spell on his mouth, hurriedly heading for the door with shoes in one hand and bag in the other. The common room was most definitely empty so he would just finish getting ready-

Ouch!

A loud thud caught Draco’s attention, wand instantly in hand as an instinct. He should have expected, should have exhaled, turned on his heel and darted out of there because he knew he was just going to be even later now.

But how in Merlin’s name could he turn around on a Potter still in his boxers, black boxers and a Gryffindor tie hanging around his neck like the bloody corridor was an extension of his room. Potter looked up, his cheeks red and an apologetic smile on his face, something that only contributed to unbalance Draco more.

The blond was gaping, his own blood rushing to his cheeks because his eyes couldn’t stay on Potter’s ugly glasses, they had to aknowledge his shoulders, covered in tiny brown freckles; scan his chest and his stomach- fuck, Potter had abs, and his hips, Draco’s eyes could trace his V line…

He froze, closing his eyes like that was the only way he knew how to stop unashamedly maping the Gryffindor’s body.

He opened them when his breathing had evened out to find Potter doing the exact same thing he’d done.

‘I- I’m late’ Draco blurted out, startling Potter who seemed to be unaware of what he was doing.

'Yeah, me too’ His green eyes fixed on something above Draco’s head.

'You’re always late, this isn’t- ’

'What happened to your hair?’ Potter took a step towards him, his shame of being half naked completely forgotten. Draco’s wand remained firmly secured in his hand, though he doubted he’d have the will to point it at Potter even if he had to.

Merlin, he was… hot. That was the word, there was no way he could lie about that. Draco was eighteen and gay and Potter was eighteen and hot and- and so Potter. He should turn around and run the fuck away from there, that corridor was too small for two people to stand at a safe distance and Potter didn’t seem to even want to stand at a safe distance.

He was still looking at Draco’s hair like it was made of gold.

'I didn’t have time to comb it’

Draco looked at Potter’s head, wondering for a second if the Gryffindor had ever brushed his hair.

The dark brown locks curled chaotically around the edges, falling on his forehead and almost covering the scar. His hair was longer than Draco had ever seen it, probably longer than when they were fourteen and Draco first experienced how it was like to develop a crush on someone.

When Potter lowered his eyes Draco could see only thin rings of green around dilated pupils.

'Why would you comb it?’

There, he knew Potter had never brushed his hair. That was be the best opportunity to mock him about it, Draco just needed to open his mouth and-

Warm fingers pushed Draco’s locks away from his eyes, his mouth already open but his mind suddenly blank. Potter was so close Draco had to tip his head slightly down to look at him. His fingers ran through the strands, pressing lightly against his scalp. Draco’s breathing became shallow, his whole body tingling with the sudden proximity.

'I- I need to go’ Draco’s hand reached for his bag as fast as he could. He darted past a surprised Potter on his way to the stairs, Potter’s fingers that were tangled in Draco’s hair falling to his pale neck, touching it lightly for a second.

He wanted to stay, fuck, all he wanted to do was stay. That was the main reason he should go immediately because if he felt Potter’s warmth against his skin for another minute he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

When Draco turned around to catch a last glimpse of Potter, green eyes met grey. He gulped, turning on his heel and heading towards their common room.

Despite being so late Draco decided to keep a slow pace. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to keep in his memory the feeling of Harry’s fingers against his neck.

***

Draco opened his eyes the next morning to find, fortunately, that he was on time.

He sighed, images of the previous day flashing through his mind. He got up, shaking that weird feeling away, and set out for his trunk.

This time Draco decided to go with his best green silk shirt and some tight black trousers - he was in a good mood after all - paired with a silver tie. He was about to grab his bag when Draco remembered he hadn’t combed his hair again, darting his eyes to the mirror hanging on his door.

It looked… messy, but maybe not in a bad way. He ran his fingers through it, pushing the strands back and watching as a few fell on his forehead. Okay, he could try that. His father would totally reprimand him if he knew but Draco decided to go for it anyway.

He closed the door behind him, his eyes already searching for that door opposite his. Potter’s room.

It was locked and no movement could be heard from outside.

Late again, he thought to himself, lingering on the first step of the circular stair. He looked back again, waiting for something he didn’t quite know. No sound, nothing.

He’s definitely going to be late.

Fuck, Draco looked at his pocket watch, confirming that if he turned around now he’d get exactly on time for his first class of the day.

He could knock, a small voice that sounded a lot like his mother’s resonated inside his head.

Draco looked around, checking if he was in fact alone before darting towards Potter’s door, knocking twice. He waited a bit, knocked again. No response.

Maybe he’s not in there, he thought.

Maybe he’s not feeling well, his other inner voice said.

Draco didn’t care, he should just go. But his hand was already on the door knob, twisting it. It clicked, easily letting Draco in despite a red alarm screaming inside his head.

'Potter?’ His voice was low but in the quiet room it sounded much louder to his ears.

The curtains of the only bed in the room were closed, but Draco could immediately tell Potter was there. His deep breathing told Draco that the Gryffindor was sound asleep, the sunrays making his silhouette distinguishable through the curtains.

The alarms were louder now but Draco couldn’t walk away anymore.

He pulled the curtains slowly.

'Potter, you’re- ’

Fuck.

Potter was on his back, a soft blanket covering one of his legs and his waist in a way Draco could see he had nothing beneath it. He was naked, completely naked under that thin layer of cotton.

Draco’s fingertips were tingling, his throat suddenly dry. He wanted to touch, but Merlin he couldn’t even afford to think that.

'Potter, wake up’ he spoke louder this time and Potter all but groaned in his sleep. Draco felt something boiling inside him, anger and lust mixed together.

'Potter, wake up!’ His hand reached for Potter’s shoulder, shaking him before he could stop himself.

A strong grip in his hand pulled him forward and before Draco knew what was happening he found shimself underneath Potter who had his wand pointed at Draco’s throat, a dangerous look on his face.

'Malfoy, what… Fuck, what are you doing here?’

Potter lowered his wand without a second thought, placing it on the nightstand, his expression turning into one of confusion.

Draco stood frozen, his mouth hanging open because the second Potter recognized him all the bastard did was relax, sitting on top of Draco’s thighs like that was the most obvious thing to do when you find your enemy inside your room.

And Draco could feel it. Feel it against his stomach even though the blanket was preventing him from actually seeing it. He darted his eyes up the moment he realized he was staring at it to find Potter already looking at him. He was blushing, green eyes wide open like he’d just realized the strange position they were in.

The thing was, Potter didn’t move, not off Draco at least.

'We’re late,’ Draco’s voice was hoarse when he spoke.

Potter rolled his eyes to what he judged useless information.

'Are those the only words you know?’

That ungrateful git. Draco tried to push him away, shifting his thighs in a way that forced Potter to grab onto something to avoid falling off his own bed. He obviously chose to grab onto Draco’s shirt, tearing up two buttons with the force of his grip. Draco gasped, anger boiling deep inside him. That was his abosolutely favorite shirt and now it was ruined. He was about to punch Potter when something poked him hard on his inner thigh, right beside his own crotch.

Something. Not only something, it seemed.

Draco’s eyes found Harry’s.

'Potter?’ His voice came out weaker than he intended it to.

So Potter had an erection. He was hard, rocking hard right on top of Draco. And naked too. For Merlin’s sake, that wasn’t even the problem.

'Ah… Malfoy?’ Potter looked down and back up at Draco. He smirked, shifting again.

The problem was Draco was hard too.

Draco was hard with a very naked ass sitting on top of him to feel it.

Draco’s cheeks were on fire, his hands griping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white already.

This time he had no way out. Potter had that smirk all over his face and kept moving on top of him, like- like he was adjusting himself… Oh God, Potter’s cock was right there, heavy and hot against his stomach.

'Potter, I… we need to- Oh fuck’ Draco’s head hit the matress, his eyes shutting close as Potter thrust his hips forward.

'Do you really want to leave?’ He was panting, each thrust causing the blanket to slid even lower on his hips. Draco could see hair right below his navel now. Draco’s hands must have left the sheets at some point because now they were grabbing Potter’s thighs with the same intensity.

Leave? He couldn’t leave.

'I hate you’ Draco thrust back, the blanket finally sliding to the floor.

Potter moaned, his smirk turning into a grin. Merlin, he was so hot.

Potter’s hands slid from Draco’s torso to his biceps, forcing his arms above his head. He hold them there, something possessive shining in his eyes.

'Are you sure?’

One of his hands reached his wand and before Draco could even worry about it his clothes were gone. He moaned and Potter moaned, loud, needy.

Because the side of Draco’s cock was pressed against Harry’s ass, rubbing against his hole. It was too much, too suddenly.

'Potter… Fuck this is- ’

Draco flipped them, all his control gone. He stared Potter down, taking in all of it, from his swollen cock to his even messier than normal hair, his green eyes filled with lust and fixed on Draco, his hands, warm and strong roaming all over him.

'How did this happen?’ Potter whispered and Draco froze. Really, how did that happen? They were enemies, they hated each other. He was almost sure that Potter wasn’t gay and now they were there-

Potter smashed their mouths together, kissing hungrily like Draco had never been kissed before. They backed away for air, Draco resting his forehead on Potter’s.

'You don’t really hate me’ Potter said, still trying to control his breathing.

'I do’ Draco bit his shoulder, leaving a red mark there.

'You don’t’ Potter’s grip on his jaw was strong, forcing their eyes to meet again. Everything seemed to change, the atmosphere, the tension between them.

'You’re a nightmare’ Draco whispered against his lips.

'You’re a wet dream’ Harry said back, smirking.

Draco didn’t hate him. He had realized that only after the war but now he knew he probably had never hated Harry Potter.

When he bent down to press their lips together, it wasn’t rushed. They kissed slowly, tasting one another. It was sensual, deeper than before. Potter’s hands were on his hair, his fingers threading through the strands and pulling Draco towards him. They parted again but Potter kept placing soft kisses on Draco’s lips, again and again.

'Why do you do this?’ Draco’s eyes were still closed, his mouth brushing Potter’s as he spoke. Every nerve on his body was aware of it’s surroundings. Draco wanted to scream, stop the time because Potter made him feel like he was eleven all over again, powerless but a lot braver than he was now at eighteen.

Potter moved so he could speak into his ear, hands still on his hair.

'Draco, this is fine’ his words were softer than the ones ringing inside Draco’s head that sounded so much like his father’s. 'Scared, Malfoy?’

There it was, Malfoy and Potter, always Malfoy and Potter. Except Draco wanted this new thing now, because Potter was right. If he didn’t give a shit for the past Draco wouldn’t either.

'I don’t hate you’ he whispered, afraid the words would get stuck in his throat.

It was like an immense weight he didn’t know he was carrying was lifted from his shoulders.

'I don’t hate you, Harry’ he said it again, louder. They kissed one more time. 'Harry’ and again. 'I want to- ah, I want to fuck you, Harry’ the way the name rolled on his tongue was addictive. And everytime he said it, Harry Harry Harry, the boy beneath him would shudder, moan, kiss him again.

'Draco’ his fingers running through his hair. 'Draco’.

Draco backed away, turned Harry on his stomach and kissed his nape.

He kissed his shoulder blades, Draco kissed his spine.

Open mouthed kisses all the way down to his lower back, Harry arched to his touch.

His hands ran on Harry’s sides, one of them reaching Harry’s neck and holding him there possessively.

'You can… you can just…’ Harry turned his head to the side, his hands pushing Draco’s thighs towards him desperately.

'I need to- ’

'I did it yesterday’ Harry’s voice was hoarse and the words came out rushed. 'After we met, I…’

'You were thinking of me…’ Draco kissed the shell of his ear, his hips trembling with need.

'I want you inside, Draco’ Harry fingers dig in his thighs and Draco shuddered, a moan escaping his lips.

Draco reached for his wand, a quick spell smearing his fingers with lube. He found Harry’s hole, tried one finger and found it in fact loose already. Harry bucked against it underneath him. Fuck, he wanted to eat him up, take him hard. He smeared his swollen cock with the lube, aligning himself.

Harry arched his back again when Draco buried himself inside him, his hips hitting Harry’s ass.

'Draco- fuck, please… Draco please

It was so tight, fuck, so hot inside him and the sounds. Harry kept moaning, bucking against him, begging.

'You’re so… Harry, Harry fuck’ Harry was shaking beneath him, his head turning from side to side, eyes closed and mouth open. Draco pounded hard inside him, as fast as he could.

It was desperate, intense, too much. They were Malfoy and Potter and Draco and Harry. And Draco wanted all that, he needed Harry Potter to remember what it was like to feel that fire inside him.

Harry came with his ass up and face pressed against the pillow that muffled his scream. He came with Draco’s cum filling him up, Draco digging his nails on his sides and screaming his name.

When he let his body crash beside Harry, Draco felt different.

'Do you hate me?’ Harry’s playful tone was gone.

'No’

'Are you s-’

Draco pressed his hand on Harry’s mouth, shutting him up immediately.

'You’re a Gryffindor, an arrogant prick with a hero complex. You’re loud and impulsive. Still, I don’t hate you, okay?’

When Draco removed his hand Harry had a frown on his face.

'What does that even mean?’

Draco rolled his eyes, reaching out for Harry’s arm. He ran his fingers there, tracing invisible patterns as he spoke. He liked to touch Harry, he liked it quite a lot.

'It means this is fine, doesn’t it?’

Harry closed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

'Draco’

There, that was why he felt different. Harry made his name sound like something… special.

'Yeah?’

'Will you wake me up tomorrow too?’

He snorted, hitting Harry with the pillow square in the face.

'No’

'What, why not?’ Harry gave him an indignant look that only made Draco laugh even harder.

'I can’t miss another class because of you’

Harry gave him a peck on the lips, startling him. It was so sweet he couldn’t help the blushing creeping up his face.

'Then I’ll wake up before you, Malfoy’ he gave him another peck, the well known challenging look in his eyes.

Draco smiled, realizing Malfoy and Potter could be as nice as Draco and Harry if he got to have him by his side.

Ao3

4

some recent bullet journal bits! trying to get myself somewhat organised for uni (and in genera).

> an ‘ideal day’ spread (for days at home when i dont have any classes etc). once im settled back in uni i’ll make more for other days! I can glance at them if im feeling stuck + then have an idea of what im /supposed/ to be doing

> dinner/evening meal ideas (with additional notes on the opposite page). Im using a bullet point for easy meals + a hyphen for meals that require slightly more effort and energy to prepare/cook (work in progress, v empty right now).

> a sort of helpful attempted timetable thing for the first week back (i think my timetable is still being edited etc by the uni so its a bit ????)(still a WIP hence the lack of title)

> testing out a new way of tracking what i wear from my wardrobe- the numbers at the top are the days of the month + i’ll colour in the squares according to what i wear (items listed down the side). previously i was tracking with tally charts but it ’t very useful/readable (still a WIP hence the lack of title)

Power Cut IV

Originally posted by my-eccentric-mind

Pairing : Yoongi x Reader
Genre : Fluff, slight angst, Hybrid!au
Warnings : mentions of sex

Summary : Yoongi is the cat hybrid you once adopted at an adoption center. You took care of him as best as you could months following his adoption but he still has not erased the distance he voluntarily puts between you.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 5


“Hum…Okay, but what the fuck is that shit?…”

Groaned the sleepy hybrid in his deep raspy voice. His soft black fluffy ears twitched at the sound of the video you were running on your laptop. Lazily laying on the couch, Yoongi was rubbing his nape with a yawn, eyes glued to the screen of the laptop on the coffee table with a slight frown. A smile etched the corners of your lips, a content sigh soon crossed them.

“ASMR. You know, like doctor Jung recommended. I think it’s a really good idea.”

Yoongi gave you a skeptical look, his eyes flickering back to the screen. Of course, at the memory of the last medical checkup, your thoughts wandered to the image of your naked hybrid. You shook your head, trying to think of something else to avoid any pervy thoughts pry further into your mind. Horny, you had been lately but you knew now it was not the right moment to be. Especially with your hybrid around.

“Doc Jung? “

You nodded at his words, eyes still glued to the laptop screen. You distractedly tapped your laptop with your fingertips as you crossed the hybrid’s usual stoic glance, feeling a bit flustered of the pervy thoughts still within your mind while Yoongi had no idea of why your glance seemed so avoiding nor why your lips suddenly parted. You nibbled on your bottom lip, your eyes into his deep dark ones. Yoongi eventually sighed, gazing into the distance.

“That guy is really weird. Always smiling and stuff. I don’t trust him. He also looks like a hippie.”

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