good times with mates

professor lupin

Harry’s train ride with Remus as seen by Lily and James

James: Yes Harry, go in that compartment. Come on, the others are full. He won’t bite, I mean he can but– *punches air* YES! EVANS! Remus and Harry are in the same compartment. 

Lily: He’s going to be his teacher all year what difference does it make that Harry’s in the same compartment with a sleeping Remus

James: He’ll wake up eventually

Lily: *laughing* Yeah, when they are getting off

*Harry is telling Hermione and Ron about what Mr. Weasley warned him about*

James: What the fuck does “Don’t go looking for him” mean anyway. He’s basically saying that there’s a reason that will cause him to go look for him.

Lily: Arthur was just trying to warn him James.

James: It’s Pads, the worst thing he will do is lick Harry’s face.

Lily: They don’t know that.

James: Oh, yeah.. Right.

*Train starts to slow down because of Dementors.*

James: Why are they stopping? It’s too early.

Lily: *shocked* Are those– Are those Dementors?

James: What the fuck does the ministry think? Sirius would get on Hogwarts Express?

Lily: Come on Remus wake up

James: Moony, now is a good time mate. 

*Remus wakes up, goes to check what’s wrong, then the Dementor attacks Harry, Remus casts Patronus charm a little later*

Lily: Why– Why is he attacking Harry? Why is Remus not casting a Patronus charm?

James: Because he can’t Lils. It always took him some time when he’s alone. Moony think about how we ran in the Forest mate, come on, there you go.

*Harry wakes up Remus gives him chocolate*

Lily: Well, something’s never change do they?

James: *grinning* Moony without chocolate is like– I don’t know what it’s like, I’ve never seen it. Now, since we got over this, Moony introduce yourself to Harry.

Lily: He won’t.

James: You think he didn’t recognise him? He looks exact–

Lily: Of course he recognised him don’t be silly, he just won’t. He is not ready for this.

James: *pulls his hair* It’s been twelve– TWELVE YEARS. I’m giving him one month.

Lily: *smiling* You do that baby.

Not A Bad Thing ~ Part Six

Originally posted by xehun

Fairy-tale & AU Series Index

Previous Part || Next Part

Word Count: 4.4K

Errors. Please excuse and ignore them.

-Okay this is my 3rd time re-posting this part. If it is STILL cut off half-way through, let me know! 


Y/N:

I stood there, with my voice caught in my throat. I didn’t miss the way Sehun’s face scrunched up in thought. His eyes darted from me to Eun Ji, who was still staring at me.

“I don’t think so.” I almost croaked, my smile falling slightly. I’m feigning ignorance, staring at Sehun with questioning eyes.

“No, no. I’ve seen you somewhere before.” Eun Ji pushed looking at Sehun, “How long have you two been together now?”

Sehun was a bit taken back by Eun Ji’s seriousness in her question.

“It’s been 2 months since we met.” I answered for Sehun, “I don’t think we’ve met. What was your name again?”

“Eun Ji.” She stated, glaring at me. This was expected, and I wasn’t surprised. It seems that Eun Ji is still stuck at Sehun’s hip. Her feels haven’t faded and she still wants to keep a tight grip on Sehun. It’s not clear if her personality has improved like Sehun’s has.

Keep reading

  • things i thought 'Fantastic Beasts' was from the original trailer: merry CGI animal caper eddie sight gags het
  • things I thought 'Fantastic Beasts' was from fandom: like 5 minutes of heavy gay coding in an alley
  • my experience of 'Fantastic Beasts' (experienced through a heavy cold): I AM CRYING. I AM CRYING THE FEELS LIKE THE OBLIVIATING RAIN OF, SRSLY, FUCK, WHAT? ARGH. DAMMIT. JUSTICE 4 CREDENCE. THERE ARE LIEK 10 SHIPS HERE. I NEED A DIAMOND!MOLE. HE CALLED HIMSELF 'MUM' i die now

anonymous asked:

I like to imagine that in the future (when albus and scorp are dating cuz i'm trash) the Slhytherins go to Pride Parades and TEAR IT UP. They are always the focus, somehow.

Okay but now all I want to do is just. A series of pride month threads with all the different hp squads. Golden trio. Silver trio. Next gen. Marauders. Mate, that sounds like a Good Time. -arin

#137 - For anonymous

Filling the prompt “a fic based on Glasgow? Like how they meet and all of the sudden there falling in drunk in love? You may have something similar but I’m thinking like she wraps him around her fingers and the boys all talk about how he’s whipped and like when she can’t be with him, he’s just wants her to himself”


You’d met Van at your favourite bar and it was cliché as all fuck. He arrived late, and everyone in your newly combined social group was already drunk. He walked to the bar and perched on a stool. Jess, the bartender, walked to him and took his order. You watched as he hesitated, not getting up. He stayed on the stool and started to sip the beer.

“Maybe… instead of looking, staring at his back, you could just go talk to him?” you friend whispered in your ear. She was right; you were staring and chewing your lip and being super fucking weird. Nodding, you stood up and walked over and took the stool next to his.

“Hey, Y/N. The usual?” Jess asked.

“Um. I think maybe we need a couple shots, to catch this one up,” you said. She smirked and nodded. Van looked over at you. “No fun being the only sober one," 

"You ain’t that drunk,” he replied smiling and looking you up and down.

“I am… holding myself together.” He laughed, his pointy teeth on display. Jess lined up two shots each, and put a cider next to you too. You clinked your teeny tiny glass against Van’s, and downed it. He scrunched his face up and it was so human and beautiful. The second shot went down easier.

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“Where were you on Thursday night then?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You are like a bloody crup with a bone. Is this even an official questioning? I was with Juniper. You can ask her, if you seriously think I’m a suspect.”

Harry frowned. “Juniper from—”

“From Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, yes, that Juniper,” Malfoy drawled, his arms still folded, and his fingers drumming on his upper arms.

“Where were you two?” Harry asked. He wasn’t sure he did suspect Malfoy, not really, but he felt he had to continue now.

“Here, having a shag down in section E-8,” Malfoy said, his lips twisting into a smirk. “There will still be a magical trace if you want it confirmed. She prefers spells to potions.”

Harry felt his face heat up. “Here? Doesn’t records stay open all night?”

“The threat of discovery is half the fun.” Malfoy was definitely having fun with Harry’s embarrassment. His posture had relaxed, and his face was open.

“You’re mad,” Harry said, shaking his head, and wondering how he was going to face Juniper the next time he had to work with MoMA.

Malfoy snorted, making a wild hand gesture. “If you haven’t had a shag somewhere you might get caught, you haven’t lived,” he said.

“I’ll take your word on it then,” Harry muttered, wishing he’d never questioned him at all.

“Why stop there?” Malfoy asked, stepping closer, still smirking. “No one’s around, fancy a go?”

Harry, who had been in the process of picking up the file he’d requisitioned, fumbled it, and felt his face heat up even more.

“What about Juniper?” he asked stupidly, as if that was the only thing strange about the offer.

Malfoy’s smirk turned into a grin, as if Harry had confirmed something for him. He stepped even closer, and Harry swallowed nervously. He’d expected a little physical proximity from questioning him, but not this kind.

“It’s just casual, with her, just when we’re both working late. She won’t care, she’s also shagging some bloke in the Transport office.”

Harry felt his mouth go dry, and rather thought it was a good time to point out that fact he didn’t go for blokes, only…only Malfoy’s breath was warm on his lips, and then they were kissing, and it wasn’t nearly as repulsive as Harry might have expected.

***

“So…Malfoy and I shagged in the filing room yesterday,” Harry said.

Ron, put his drink down and looked him over. “You did not.”

“Okay, it wasn’t shagging-shagging, just wanking each other,” Harry said, feeling awkward. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

After blinking rapidly a few times, Ron whistled, and picked his drink back up. “Good for you, mate. Didn’t think you had it in you, doing someone at work.”

Harry flushed. “I didn’t think I had it in me to do something with a bloke, but well, Malfoy, I guess.”

“Makes sense, actually, he’s always the exception to everything with you,” Ron commented with a shrug, before seeming to freeze and look confused. “Wait, didn’t you suspect him of being the information leak?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Harry answered. Although, he still wasn’t entirely sure if his suspicions were genuine, or because of their history. Shagging only made things more complicated. It was so unprofessional, he wanted to suspend himself. He was half tempted to check for that magical trace in section E-8 to confirm Malfoy’s alibi. As if that would make things better.

“Oh, new interrogation technique you lot use over in non-violent? And people say we Aurors have all the fun,” Ron said with a cheeky grin.

“Shove off,” Harry muttered, which only made Ron start laughing.


This was going to be for a new story when I have time, but I’m now stealing the plot for a sequel for something else, so this scene will change too much, and thus, it can be posted as a random unattached snippet =)

trash-tician  asked:

I got my first 4 person res today! Was it a good time to res? No. Did I let my mate die to get it? Yes. Did everyone, including myself die immediately afterwards? Yes. But after having my 4+ person res cheated from me twice I don't even care. I now have an achievement and a cute spray. (oh and we won the game AND I got potg for a 3 person res AND I made a friend from the enemy team) easily one of my favourite games.

anonymous asked:

do you think Harry would introduce the missus to his friends with pride?? xx

Of course! And he’d feel even better, and much more content with the thought of her being introduced to them, when they’d bring her up and talk fondly of her, even when she wasn’t with them. He’d feel so happy when they speak about how great she is and how funny she is and they’d talk to Harry about when she’s next up for coming out. His very close friends, like Nick, would pull him aside and offer their congratulations and speak confidently about how happy he’s been since she’s been in his life and they’d bring up how good she makes him look with the smile on his face every time she was brought up.

“It’s always good, for a best mate, to see his best mate looking happy,” Nick would smile, hand wrapped around a pint glass, “she really brings out the happy look in you, mate. She’s a keeper. Knows how to handle some liquor too. Told me some stories from her college years,” he’d chuckle.

“It means a lot, to me, that everyone likes her and has welcomed her into their lives,” Harry would grin, nursing a Gin and Tonic glass in his hand, “especially you. You’re my best mate. It means a lot that you like her.”

“I love her, mate. Obviously, platonically. I’m as gay as you make ‘em,” he’d chuckle, “she makes you happy, and, that’s really all that matters. If you love her and if she makes you feel butterflies, then, that’s great. You deserve all the happiness, H.”

“You sound like my mother,” Harry would tease with a laugh, taking a sip of his drink before setting it down on the bar, “she said the exact same thing to me when they both met. Except the gay part, obviously. She’s happily married to Robin.” xx

‘Yours. Think I like the sound of that.’

(( OOC: Written by: carpetheday )) 

I don’t know what it is about your RP of Remus and/or Sirius that always makes me want to write about wolfstar but here we are. Enjoy.

Warning: NSFW

  • Sirius had his back pressed into a corner, one foot up against the wall and his hand tightly gripping his mug of Firewhiskey
  • His eyes were fixated on the scene before him
  • The area of the common room that had conveniently been converted into a dance floor was just swarming with sixth years
  • Not just Gryffindors either
  • Every House had taken the opportunity to show up
  • Even a select few Slytherins had come
  • Sirius wondered if it was because Rosie supplied them with an obscene amount of Firewhiskey
  • Or because they actually enjoyed hanging around with the lot of sixth years
  • But it didn’t really matter right now since he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Colin Avery’s bloody hand and its bloody spot right above Remus Lupin’s. Bloody. Arse.
  • ‘An annoying fit arse at that,’ Sirius’ mind groaned
  • He watched as Colin’s fist wrapped itself tightly in Remus’ aggravatingly tight black t-shirt to pull him closer
  • They were practically chest to chest now
  • Their hips almost connected
  • Why Merlin why, Sirius grumbled to himself
  • The way Remus’ cheeks were flush from the heat of the room and the one too many Butterbeers he had probably thrown back was making the hair on the back of Sirius’ neck stand
  • Plus Colin had this hungry look in his eye
  • And it was making the blood in Sirius’ veins boil
  • So he gripped the cup tighter, narrowed his brows at the sight and closed his eyes
  • It’s just dancing you prat, he thought
  • It’s was just your best mate having a good time, he assured himself
  • It’s just your best mate dancing way too closely with some prat from Ravenclaw whose shirt was too small for him and whose eyes were too far apart
  • Well …
  • Not really
  • But that was beside the point
  • Sirius’ eyes fluttered open and he cursed into his cup as he took another swing
  • Maybe alcohol could shake the feelings that erupted in the pit of his stomach every time Remus swung his hips and raised the corner of his lip at whatever Avery had whispered in his ear this time
  • Maybe alcohol could help him not to feel this
  • Especially since he wasn’t supposed to feel this
  • And not because he was a Black
  • That didn’t even matter
  • Nor did the fact that he was his family’s first heir
  • Or that his mother had essentially beat into him the idea that purebloods bred purebloods
  • Or that he was gay
  • Which he had figured out when he was fourteen 
  • Quidditch pants were good for more than fast flying, he smirked
  • It was that this was Remus
  • It was Moony, his best mate (next to Jamie of course)
  • He wasn’t about to ruin six years of friendship over a crush
  • His heart thudded at the word and his subconscious spoke up, ‘Just a crush? Are you sure?’
  • He shook the idea out of his head
  • It couldn’t be anything more than a crush, he couldn’t let it be more than a crush
  • Because Remus didn’t see him like that
  • Sirius would know
  • He spent practically every class this year with his eyes glued to the man and his insufferably lean frame every time he stretched his broad shoulders
  • Especially when he stood from his desk
  • The man was fit, Sirius wouldn’t deny that
  • Plus he told him all the time
  • But if Remus knew he meant it?
  • Like really, really meant it
  • If Remus knew that a shiver ran up Sirius’ spine whenever their arms brushed or fingers grazed or legs touched …
  • If Remus knew that the way he threw his head back in laughter, his neck exposed, made Sirius’ stomach flip and lips tingle …
  • If Remus knew that Sirius took the image of him coming out from the bathroom in nothing more than a towel that was hanging dangerously low on his hips with him into the shower …
  • He didn’t even want to think about it
  • So he took another swing of the last of the Firewhiskey in his cup and peered back toward the dance floor
  • He couldn’t help it
  • He had had his eyes on them all night anyway, what was a few more times?
  • His vision was blurrier than it was before
  • But it was nothing to the spinning in his head when we caught sight of those sandy-blonde curls
  • The empty cup dropped out of his hand
  • He didn’t ever hear the plastic faintly bounce against the carpet
  • There they were
  • Completely pressed against each other
  • Eyes locked, chest’s heavily rising and falling
  • Both Colin’s hands now firmly wrapped around Remus’ waist
  • Remus’ hands interlocked behind the tossers head
  • They were going to kiss, they were going to kiss, they were going to kiss
  • No no no no no no
  • Sirius felt like he was going to be sick
  • Definitely not a crush, his heart pounded in his chest
  • He pushed himself forward off the wall and barely felt his feet hit the ground as he flung himself towards the portrait hole
  • He didn’t hear James’ bellowing call over the music
  • Or Peter’s supplementary shout
  • He even tugged his arm away as Lily caught his elbow
  • They probably thought he was going to throw up
  • But let them, he probably was 
  • He couldn’t stay here
  • He couldn’t watch that
  • Not when he knew how badly he wanted to be in Colin’s place
  • Not we had had imagined the feeling of Remus’ lips on his
  • Trailing down his jawline, his neck, his chest
  • Lower, lower, lower …
  • His skin tingled at the thought
  • Why did he have to feel this?
  • Why did it have to be about Remus?
  • Why couldn’t it just be a stupid bloody crush?
  • He slammed his hand into the stone wall and cursed loudly when the sound of cracking reverberated in his ears
  • It was like white hot magma was running up his arm
  • Like it was dancing across the nerves under his skin
  • He clutched his fist in his other hand and cursed again
  • This time louder
  • His knuckles were swelling
  • Blood faintly dripping from the scratches
  • What a night this was turning out to be

  • ‘Sirius?’
  • ‘Sirius?’
  • ‘Where in Merlin’s name…?’
  • The voice trailed off slightly
  • He could hear the scuffling of shoes against the stone stairwell
  • Hear a very familiar voice
  • And his heart leapt into his throat
  • Remus
  • Goddammit
  • ‘There you are, wondered where you had gotten off too. Why are you out here?’
  • Sirius had his back pressed into the wall, his hand still clutched in his other and his head dangling towards the floor
  • He was hoping the curtain of his hair would shield him from seeing Remus
  • He didn’t want to look up right now
  • Not when his head was swimming in alcohol
  • Not when his entire body felt this warm
  • Not when his heart was still slamming itself into his chest harder than it had before
  • ‘Sirius?’
  • ‘Why are you holding your hand like that?’
  • ‘Oh-oh, what the bloody hell did you do?’
  • Sirius’ voice was stuck in his throat as Remus spoke
  • It felt dry, so impossibly dry
  • ‘Let me see that’
  • Remus had wrapped his long, slender fingers around Sirius’ wrist
  • Sirius opened his eyes and his throat closed even further
  • Remus, wand in hand, was peering down at his knuckles with his brows furrowed and his golden hazel eyes glazed with concern
  • He was standing too close to him
  • Way too close
  • So Sirius yanked his hand back, his elbow bouncing into the stone behind him
  • ‘S’fine Lupin, how ‘bout you go back to Avery.’
  • The words had slipped out, slurred out, too quickly for him to reel them in
  • ‘Avery? Who cares about that?’
  • Remus sounded bewildered by the comment
  • ‘Look at your knuckles right now mate, they’re purple! You’ve obviously broken something!’
  • Remus reached out his fingers towards him again
  • Sirius’ head was spinning faster
  • His vision still clouded by the Firewhiskey
  • His head and nose filled with the most familiar scents
  • Remus’ cologne, the smell of his sweat, the way he always always smelled of chocolate
  • Why did he always have to smell so damn good?
  • Sirius was gritting his jaw and tensing his muscles
  • Which wasn’t helping the flaring pain in his hand and the rapid way it shot up his arm
  • ‘S’fine’
  • The words came out aggressive, sloppy, harsh
  • Sirius had meant them too
  • He needed Remus away from him, as far away as he could get him
  • ‘Would you stop being such a prat and let me heal it’
  • Remus surged forward
  • One hand connected with Sirius’ shoulder and slammed him harshly into the wall
  • The other wrapped around his forearm and raised his hand
  • Sirius was almost too distracted by the lack of space between them to hear Remus muttering a healing spell
  • Distracted by the beads of sweat dripping down the side of Remus’ face
  • Distracted by the way his collar bone peeked out through his shirt
  • Distracted by the pink flush of his cheeks
  • Distracted by the way his own heart was thumping so loudly now that he could feel the blood pumping in his ears
  • Crack
  • Sirius sucked in a deep breath of air as his knuckles popped into place
  • ‘There’
  • Remus turned his face from downward at Sirius’ knuckles to peer into his eyes
  • ‘Now. Going to tell me how you broke your knuckles?’
  • Sirius brain was in overdrive and the alcohol wasn’t helping
  • He had Remus right in front of him
  • Their chests almost brushing up against one another
  • That hand wrapped around his wrist
  • Those lips so close
  • The alcohol was starting to cloud his judgement
  • Why can’t you be with Remus?
  • Why shouldn’t you be?
  • His mind was swirling
  • ‘Fuck it’ he murmured
  • Finally, his subconscious sighed
  • Sirius roughly wrapped his hands around Remus’ neck pulling him towards him
  • And then their lips connected
  • They finally connected
  • Remus yelped in surprise before his voice was muffled by the kiss
  • Sirius could feel the sudden change in Remus’ body, the muscles in Remus’ neck relaxing
  • He went from surprised to responsive
  • Merlin, Remus was responding
  • His chest roared triumphantly
  • He could feel Remus’ strong hands grasp his waist
  • And then he shoved him further into the wall
  • Their lips even more fiercely interlocked than before
  • Sirius was tugging on Remus’ bottom lip earnestly trying to deepen the kiss
  • Remus in turn was swiping his tongue along Sirius’ own bottom lip
  • Sirius moaned at the feeling giving Remus room to slip his tongue into his mouth
  • His skin felt like it had been lit on fire
  • He tasted like Butterbeer and chocolate and mint
  • Better than Sirius had even imagined
  • He ran his hands into Remus’ curls as his back scraped against the stone wall
  • Their hips grinding into one another
  • Sirius arched his back forward and a growl erupted from deep in Remus’ throat
  • Fuck
  • I need to hear that again
  • In response, Remus had shoved him back even harder, pinning Sirius between himself and the wall as his lips hungrily continued
  • The heat between them was growing
  • The need to be closer coiling itself in the pit of Sirius’ stomach
  • Sirius felt like his heart was going to explode
  • Then Remus spread his legs with his knee
  • Merlin
  • His erection was tightly confined in his jeans and now it was rubbing against Remus’ thigh
  • He groaned again at the thoughts his mind was conjuring
  • Remus tugging the zipper of his jeans down
  • His hands sliding in
  • Those fingers wrapping around him
  • He shuddered at the thought
  • And then shuddered again when Remus’ hips ground against him
  • He didn’t know how much farther Remus could push him
  • How much more of their bodies could be touching
  • But he wanted too
  • Merlin he wanted too
  • With Remus’ lean torso rubbing against him
  • With his broad shoulders looming over them in this dark hallway
  • With his large hands grasping at his skin and moving so agonizingly slow down his body until they reached his arse
  • Remus’ grasp tightened
  • Sirius moaned again
  • He could feel his chest constricting
  • His mind reminding him that he unfortunately needed to breathe
  • So he pulled back ever so slightly and the kiss began to slow
  • It became languid, soft, smooth
  • Their heavy breathing mingling between them as they pulled back
  • Eyes closed, foreheads resting together
  • ‘Holy shit,’ Remus muttered breathlessly
  • Sirius’ eyes fluttered open at the words
  • A wave of concern and doubt suddenly washing over him
  • Oh no
  • Dear Merlin no
  • Please let this not have been a mistake
  • It couldn’t be
  • It felt so right
  • And then Remus spoke
  • ‘I’ve been waiting for you to do that since fourth year’
  • What?
  • Had he heard that correctly?
  • Sirius could feel the corner of his lip turn up into a smirk
  • ‘Should have done it yourself and maybe this would have happened ages ago.’
  • Remus released a soft laugh, his hands wrapped around Sirius’ hips, his thumbs comfortably resting on his hipbones
  • ‘I should have. But this plan seemed to work just fine.’
  • Sirius’ eyes went wide
  • Plan?
  • Oh
  • ‘You great prat,’ he tightened his grip on Remus’ hair and pushed his forehead further against Remus as the boy before him laughed
  • He had planned this
  • Remus had wanted this
  • Wanted him to get jealous
  • Wanted him to make a move
  • ‘Dangerous idea you had Moons. The wall I punched could have just have easily been Colin’s nose.’
  • One of Remus’ eyebrows kinked, ‘Ah so that’s how you broke your knuckles.’
  • Sirius ran his hands back down to rest on Remus’ neck
  • ‘As a wolf you should know dogs are insanely protective of what’s theirs.’
  • Remus’ eyes widened, his lips parting slightly and his shoulders rising as the air left his body
  • ‘Theirs?’ he spoke softly
  • Sirius ran his thumb along Remus’ jaw
  • His eyes fixated on Remus’ swollen red lips
  • ‘Well if you’re going to snog me like that than there’s no way in hell I’m letting you anywhere near another Colin bloody Avery. You’re mine Lupin.’
  • He watched as a smile spread slowly across Remus’ face
  • ‘Yours. Think I like the sound of that.’
  • Sirius’ grin widened, ‘Yeah, me too.’

yo real talk for a damn moment, bon jovi are straight up one of the best bands of all time and i am tired of us as a species pretending like they’re only good for karaoke classics like love urself and blast the new jersey album next time ur driving and then get back to me

youtube

Everybody seems surprised that Cristiano is excellent in table tennis. But it’s nothing new.

Cristiano told already in his book ‘Moments’ in 2007 that he turned down the chance to join the table tennis team in his native Madeira for pursuing a career in football. (x)

“After football, ping pong is my favourite sport. I love to watch professional games and I like to play.

I began to feel a fascination for table tennis as a child because it is a very popular sport in Madeira, where there are several nationally competitive clubs.
I started playing as a boy in my neighbourhood and at school.

When I moved to the school of Sporting, I kept playing ping pong. There were plenty of tables in the athletes’ common and I spent good times there with my team-mates.

One day the coach of the Sporting table tennis said, “I’ve seen you play and I think you can become a good table tennis player. Want to get in the team?”. “No, no thanks”, I replied without hesitation. “I want to be a footballer. Ping pong is a hobby, not a sport in which you want to be professional,” I said.

‘He tried to persuade me again and again. I always said “no”, and he finally gave up. Football was my passion.

'I do not know if the ping pong has lost a good player, but I know that even today I enjoy playing.

'I play with the right, left… Without being boastful, I think I do pretty well. Even those who think they have a chance against me give up when faced with the facts.”

anonymous asked:

Prompt where Neil hides a British accent from the foxes to hides his identity but when he comes to the hotel after the Baltimore thing he lets it out and their all like the fuck

I looooove accents jfc this is like a thing for me okay and since there isn’t just one British accent and you haven’t specified I’m gonna go big (because go big or go home, right) and gift Neil with a thick, thick Yorkshire accent (I’m not gonna write dialect so if you don’t know how it sounds you should watch like a minute of this and imagine Neil talking like that… there ya go)

Hope you like this!

Keep reading

I just wanted to write this to you so I can…I don’t know. “Get it off my mind” makes it seem like I think writing is like transferring the knowledge from my brain and I can now just delete it.

I guess that’s what I’m hoping for, even though that won’t happen. I just want to stop letting his behavior get under my skin. I want to not feel anxious for hours after I see him in public. 

I want to not care if he comes to my work or not. I wish he could just become no one to me, cause heirs now. I just wish my response to him would’ve more in line with that.

Keep reading

  • Jack: We are very much alike, you and I, I and you. Us.
  • Elizabeth: Oh except for a sense of honour and decency and... and a moral centre. And personal hygiene.
  • Jack:
  • Jack:
  • Jack:
  • Jack: I came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now.
Fic: “Promise Me” (Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, G)

Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 600
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Summary:  Neville can’t take the way blokes always try and hit on his girlfriend… So he does something about it.

(Read on AO3)


Neville Longbottom wasn’t an aggressive bloke, in fact, many considered him irrefutably docile in spite of his actions during the war. He didn’t seem to mind the implication, or at least he didn’t ever refute it. Neville was a scholarly man, quite contented to mix with his flora populations than any gathering people put on.

Still, that didn’t stop him from going down to the local pub with his girlfriend and his mates. They had a good time, the lot of them, but there was always one thing Neville couldn’t stand. And it would happen every night, without fail.

Someone would try and pick up his girl.

It was little wonder really. She was rather beautiful after all. And the infrequent patrons of the establishment tended to verge on the wasted side of their pints, leading emboldened men to voice their opinions of her openly and directly.

Men had always done this with Pansy. Neville had seen it firsthand throughout their schooling years, but he hadn’t had his arm around her waist then.

Neville wasn’t a brute, and as head of Gryffindor, he did his best to teach his students there were means beyond physical altercation that could lend to their bravery. However, that didn’t mean it was off the table. It only meant that Neville didn’t consider himself brave when he acted upon those impulses.

Pushed too far, as his mates would later claim, Neville had already tolerated his fair share of contenders tonight. Pansy’s mood was sullied with their continuously unwelcomed advances and she leaned against Neville’s chest, clearly placing herself within his personal space. They were unquestioningly, a couple. And even the blindest wizard could see that, but that didn’t stop the most belligerent of the blokes at the bar.

Neville was polite, more so than Pansy’s immediate rejection, but even his patience quickly wore thin at the man’s persistence.

He couldn’t hex him, because it went against his beliefs, but Neville did something equally as satisfying.

Taking a powerful swing at the bloke, Neville cut the man’s vulgar speech off midsentence, and causing him to stumble to the floor at the sheer force of the blow.

Neville stood unmoving over the unconscious man for a long moment before stalking determinedly toward the loo. Pansy followed him swiftly, though no one else dared to move, all too shocked to see the cheery Gryffindor react so.

“Neville-” Pansy started, halting as the bathroom door closed behind her.

Cradling his hand to his chest now, Neville smiled at her, pain bringing a glimmer to his eyes, “Sorry love, couldn’t help myself.”

“Neville!” Pansy seethed, stalking toward her gentle giant, “Don’t you dare. He had it coming. If you hadn’t, you know I would’ve hexed boils onto his crotch.”

Neville had to laugh at her anger, knowing the place of concern it came from. She had a wicked temper, and more than once he’d had to save Pansy from her own nature.

“Let me see your hand,” Pansy demanded, ushering the requested appendage forth with an open palm. Neville gave in easily, wincing as she touched the damaged knuckles, “You shouldn’t hit people though, you’re rubbish at it.”

“He, and the rest of them…” Neville sighed, “You know I won’t hex them, I can’t. I just want them to leave you- us- alone.”

“You could always let me…” Pansy said, correcting her thought as the frown deepened on Neville’s face, “I know, I know.”

Allowing Pansy to heal him, Neville grasped her hands pleadingly, “Promise me you won’t, ever.”

“Neville…”

”Promise me, Pansy. Please?”

“… I promise,”

“Thank you…” He sighs.

2

LITTLE BIT OF PG 13

happy birthday to @ateliefloresdaprimavera

He was your boss, really, but he was more like a son to you than anything. And after you and Alfred found out there was no way you could ever have on your own, he became even more like a son to you than he’d ever been. Just a year after he was born, Martha and Thomas started going away for long periods of time, leaving Alfred and yourself alone with young Bruce. It wasn’t that Martha and Thomas didn’t love Bruce, they did with all their hearts, but they were busy all the time so you became more of a nanny than a maid. You didn’t mind looking after Bruce, you loved Bruce more than anything too and you were happy to do your job.

Wake him up, get him into the shower, lay out his clothes, make his breakfast and pack his lunch, drive him to and pick him up from school, make a snack, help him with his homework make his dinner, get him into another shower, send him off to bed, and make all the time in-between that as pleasant as possible.

But everything changed on that one terrible, awful day.

Martha and Thomas were both home at the same time, which rarely happened, but they gave you and your husband the day off and took Bruce into the city for shopping and exploring, they said they were thinking about going to dinner and seeing a show at he theater. They said they’d be gone all day.

“What will we do, Alfie? No work for the rest of the night? No cooking, no cleaning?” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. He dropped his jacket on the sofa in your room and held your arms, keeping you close as he looked back at you. There was a glint in his eyes as his chest rumbled with laughter.

“Oh, I haven’t got  clue, love. Can you think of anything?”

“Well, there is one thing…”

“Just one?”

“Maybe a few things.” you laughed. But both his smile and yours vanished when the phone rang and for some reason your stomach dropped.

“Don’t answer.” he pleaded, already leaning down to kiss you.

“It’s my job.”

“You don’t have a job today!” Alfred called after you as you ran across the room to the small table where the phone sat. “Jane,” he groaned, leaning back on the bed, untying his tie.

“Alfred,” you smirked, throwing your hair over your shoulder, picking the phone up to answer it when Alfred appeared behind you. His hands on your waist, he pulled you back and the phone stopped ringing.

“See, love, if they really want something, they’ll leave a message.” he reasoned but the phone started ringing again.

“Yea, or they’ll call back.” you rolled your eyes and tried to turn around.

“Or,” he pressed a quick kiss to your lips as the phone once again stopped ringing. “They’ll leave a message.” he kissed you again and again until the familiar and by that point very annoying ringing of the phone sounded again.

“Or I can answer it. Give me a minute.” you pushed him back and held the phone to your ear. “This is the Wayne Manor, how may I assist you?”

“Is this, uh, Y/N or Alfred Pennyworth?”  A deep voice asked. You looked at Alfred, the house was so quiet, he could hear the person on the other end and you could hear your heartbeat growing louder and louder. You knew it had something to do with Bruce. You felt it.

“This is Y/N Pennyworth, who is speaking?” You asked.

“This is Officer Tannenbum from the GCPD. There’s been an accident involving the Waynes.” The detective paused but Alfred was already getting your coats and fixing his tie.

“Oh my god. Where’s Bruce?! Is he okay?”

“The boy is fine, ma’am.”

“Where is he?!” you demanded. Everything was a blur until you got to Bruce. Alfred rushed you to the car and the only thing you could think about the entire ride into the city was that you ignored the phone three times. “Three times.” you said numbly.

“What?”

“I ignored the phone three times.” you turned your head away from the lights zipping by outside the window.

“Oh no you don’t, Y/N Pennyworth, don’t you dare blame your-” but before he could finish you came back to reality and punched him in the arm. “What in the bloody hell was that for?!”

“Park the car, there he is!” you screamed when you saw Bruce sitting on a set of stairs near a cop in the alley. It was so dark, you had no idea how you saw him but you did. You got out of the car and ran across the street, getting stopped by cops on your way into the alley but they let you through when Bruce cried out for you.

“Y/N!” he screamed. It was a relief when you heard his voice. You caught him when he slammed into you, hugging him close to you. You hated to, but you pulled away, holding his pale face in your hands, running your fingers through his hair, checking his face and hands for injuries.

“Are you okay, sweetheart, are you hurt?!” you asked frantically. Alfred put a hand on his shoulder when he reached us.

“Mom… Dad…” was all he got out before he started crying and buried his face in your coat again.

“You’re alright, now, love. You’re gong to be alright, okay?” you looked into his big, brown eyes and you’d never seen them so sad.

“James Gordon.” the cop in front of you introduced.

“Alfred Pennyworth. This is Y/N.” Alfred nodded, keeping his eyes straight forward. You stood up straight beside Alfie, still holding onto Bruce.

“We’re going to get the guy that did this, sir.”

“New boy, are you?”

“You could say.” James answered. You gave Alfred a warning look, daring him to be  smartass at a time like that one.

“Good luck, mate. C’mon, Y/N, Bruce.” Alfred grabbed Bruce’s other hand and pulled us along behind him. You glanced back at the cop and then again at the two dead bodies on the ground. Martha and Thomas. “Don’t look. Head up, eyes front. Don’t let them see you cry.” Alfred told Bruce.

“Alf-” You protested but he gave you a look you’d never seen on him before and it shut you up.

The alarm clock screamed and screamed, you didn’t want to get up. Alfred moaned next to you “You gonna get up and get that, are you?” He turned his head and pulled his white t-shirt over his face to hide his eyes from the light. Sighing, you tip-toed across the cold floor and turned the alarm off. Dawning realization flooded you and the brief moment of serenity was gone. You friends were gone. You poor Bruce’s parents were gone. Alfie rubbed his face, still groaning about getting up as you walked to your closet and picked out the suit you ironed the night before and hung it on the inside of the bathroom door.

“Get up, love.” he never woke up when the alarm went off, not really anyway. It took at least five minutes of gentle persuasion every morning just to get him to sit up. “Come on.” you sat on his side of the bed. “Alfie.” you sighed, you didn’t mean to be so cold to him but you weren’t in the mood for messing about. “Alf, come on.” you grabbed his arms and pulled him up. “You’ve got to get a shower.”

“Darling,” his eyes were beginning to open fully and he looked at you sympathetically. “Are you alright?” he placed his hand on your arm and moved it in soothing circles over your skin. You pulled your feet up off the floor and hooked your heels on the wooden bed frame, placing your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. “Are you still upset about letting the phone ring? There’s no way you could have know, Y/N.”

“That’s not what it is, Alfie. Bruce…” you trailed off, looking at your husband with tears in your eyes. “He’s just a kid, Alf.”

“I know, darling…” he whispered. “I know.” Alfred moved his hand to your cheek and pulled you to him before his kissed your forehead. “But you can’t let him see you cry. We have to show him how to be strong, yeah? He has to be strong.”

“He’s twelve.”

“Y/N, he has to be strong.” Alfred paused after every word. “He has to be. Go wake him.” he kissed your head again. So you kissed his back and pushed away from the bed, grabbing your robe on the way out. You walked down the maze of hallways that anyone else would’ve been lost in but you knew like the back of your hand until you got to Bruce’s room.

“Come on, love.” you shook Bruce’s shoulder, sitting on the side of his bed. “I know you don’t want to but you’ve got to get up, alright?”

“Jane?” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his pillow, and he sniffled.

“Mhm.”

He was quiet for a minute. “It wasn’t a dream?” he whimpered, sitting up, pouting his lip out.

“No, my darling, I’m so sorry.” you almost started crying again but remembered what Alfred told you. “I’m sorry.” you said again as he fell over onto your shoulder, sobbing again as you pulled him close and hugged him. “ Do you want some breakfast?” you asked, pulling away from him, raking your fingers through his hair to get it away from his tired, puffy eyes. He shook his head. “Well you’ve got to eat something, don’t you?” you tried smiling but you knew he would see right through it. “I’ll make some French toast and eggs, your favorite, isn’t it?” no answer, just sniffling. “I ironed your suit. Have a shower and put it on. Breakfast will be ready when you’re done.” you kissed his head and walked out, leaning against the wall outside his room, covering your mouth so you didn’t sob out loud.