house of cheeks

The day after the battle, Hermione Granger got up before the sun did. The Lake was covered in fog, and she was used to having somewhere urgent to go, to be, to fight. 

She closed the tent flap up behind her. Hogwarts had something like enough beds, but Hermione hadn’t had it in her to climb those moving staircases, to step through the painting’s open frame and make her way to the Gryffindor girls’ seventh year dormitory. Her bed would have been there, months untouched except for the bras and scarves and bottles of sparkly purple nail polish Parvati and Lavender had strewn onto every open surface. 

The fog rolled in off the Lake and Hermione stood at the damp shore and shivered until the sun rose and burned it all away. 


-


The day after the battle, they buried their dead out on an island in the Lake, the day after the battle. Madame Pomfrey fretted and hovered, but every injured witch, wizard, and squib made it out to those conjured chairs. They might sit with assistance– with spells, with braces, with a friend’s shoulder– but they sat quiet and they listened to Flitwick read out the names. 


-


The day after the battle, Ron Weasley stood on tiptoe when he stepped back into the Great Hall, looking over a sea of bent heads to find a cluster of red. They’d brought the tables back. 

The cluster was only a tiny blip of three– Bill and their parents were flitting about, helping Flitwick float steaming bowls of pasta down onto each table. But Ginny and Percy were sitting on either side of George, keeping up a lively conversation about Gilderoy Lockhart’s hair. 

Ginny was sitting half in Harry’s lap, like if she didn’t he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting up to help, or to pace the castle, or to walk out to the Forest and not come back. She was holding his hand, her freckled thumb running over the words written into his skin. 

Ron thought about sitting with Luna, instead. Percy tried to laugh at one of Ginny’s jokes, and Ron didn’t know how to be kind like that. Ginny held Harry’s hand. Ron had thought for a long terrible stretch of heartbeats that he had lost two brothers yesterday. 

He could sit with Dean. He could walk out to the Forest and punch Aragog in his ugly eyes, because normally when he walked away from everyone he loved it was because he was scared and maybe change was good for the soul. 

Ron pushed his hands through his hair. He crossed the Great Hall, swung into a seat next to Harry, and filled his plate with lukewarm pasta. 


-


The day after the battle, Luna Lovegood climbed up to the Astronomy Tower, because it was the furthest she could get away from everything. She laid on her back on the cold stone and cast balls of light and enchanted birds to chase each other across the ceiling until she felt like descending down to the ground again. 


-


The day after the battle, Neville Longbottom went down to the greenhouses to see what the damage was there. He had sat all night and all morning in the infirmary, fetching water for Anthony Goldstein and holding Dennis Creevey’s hand and folding extra blankets down over Professor Sprout’s cold feet. Madame Pomfrey had banished him to go get a spot to eat and some sleep, so he walked down to the greenhouses to see what was salvageable. 

Whole panes of greenish glass stood jagged and shattered. Protective spells had put out any fires, but stray blasts of magic had killed beds of vegetables and flowers and taken almost all the silver-green leaves off an olive tree that twisted in the corner of Greenhouse 4. 

Neville went in through the door, even though there as a broken hole in the glass wall big enough for him, and almost fell back through it when Hannah Abbott stood up from the row of pots she’d been crouching behind. Dirt streaked every crease of her hands. “Hey,” he said, and let the door click shut behind him. 

“Hey.” When she saw where he was heading, she added, “The olive’s still alive.”

The bark was rough under his hand, gnarled from decades of slow growth. He could hear the green magic whispering down its xylem. 

“I was thinking I’d try to mend up the walls, close this place up again,” said Hannah. “But I wasn’t sure I could do it alone." 

"Alright,” said Neville. When Professor Sprout argued her way out of the infirmary and thumped downhill with the wind throwing her cloudy hair in her face, she found every pane of glass healed and Neville and Hannah asleep on the softest patch of moss in Greenhouse 2.  


-


The day after the battle, Parvati Patil sent an owl to Lavender Brown’s parents. 


-


The day after the end of it all, Hermione skipped lunch and found her favorite secluded corner of the library instead. The chairs stood silent and sober, all gouged dark wood. The high windows threw light gleaming across the polished table, catching on the dust motes drifting through the air above it. 

She dumped her carry-all down on it and reached inside– up to her elbows, her shoulders. She tried not to feel like it was eating her alive and she pulled out protein bars and unicorn horn and crumpled wanted flyers. 

She wasn’t sure when it had gotten so cluttered– sometime before the night in the ditch outside the little Scottish village with the awesome curry shop. Sometime after the time they hid out from a storm in an unknowing Muggle’s barn, wrinkling their noses at the itch of hay as they ate their dinner. Hermione had taken first watch, listening to the thunder roll over the shallow hills outside, and she’d gone through her bag pouch by endless pouch. Harry had twitched in his sleep with every flash of lightning, but everything in her bag had been where it was supposed to be. 

She summoned a wastepaper bin to hover beside her and got to work. Quills and ballpoint pens went in a neat heap to her left. Books she stacked by subject matter around her, except for the ones she flew back to their homes on Hogwarts shelves. She checked potions ingredients for decay, tossed the bad ones and wrapped the good ones back up in their oiled cloth and ziplock bags. 

She ate a protein bar while she piled duct tape and the radio and a travel-sized magnetic foldable Muggle chess set and a depleted first aid kit all up around her. She threw the wrapper away and wondered if the smell would ever come out of the bag’s insides, or if she should just buy another one.  


-


The day after the battle, they started putting the stones of the castle back into place. They put bones back together, first, skin and knit muscle and tendons. McGonagall escorted every statue and suit of armor back to where it belonged. 

Sue Li sat atop a pile of rubble and ate the biggest chocolate bar she’d ever seen her life. She thought she could still taste a film of Polyjuice on her tongue, but she told herself that was dumb. She dropped little pebbles down the ragged tumble of stones, counting their bounces and calculating averages, until Astoria Greengrass showed up with a glass of water and a pasty and put them down beside her. 

Astoria got her hands dirty every chance she got, put her back into sweeping up glass shards or hauling bandages or Wingardium Leviosa-ing stone blocks the size of a horseless carriage. She would stay in the castle as long as she could, finding odd tasks and errands and corners to lurk in. When she finally went back to the Greengrass family estate, it would be to pack her bags, kiss the old house elf on the cheek, and steal her dog away with her. 


-


The day after the battle, Ron went out to Hagrid’s cabin in the stubborn chill of the afternoon and sat in his pumpkin patch. He didn’t go knock on the rough-hewn door, and Hagrid didn’t come out, but after twenty minutes Fang trotted into the yard and patiently got slobber all over his shirt. 

Ron watched the sway of the shadows beyond the Forest’s edge. Buckbeak’s old tying post stood among the twining squash vines and their giant fuzzy leaves, the metal ring hanging empty against weathered wood. He thought about Ginny brushing her thumb over Harry’s scars and wrapped 
his hands over the pale marks that curled around his wrists. 

When the air started biting and the sky started darkening, Ron pulled himself back to his feet and climbed up to the library. He had never lived there, never really liked its labyrinth of stacks and dusty air, but he knew the way there better than he knew the way to the Quidditch pitch or the Room of Requirement or all those other places he liked so much more. 

It was empty, except for Hermione, and he was glad. She squeezed her last book into her bag and looked up at him, shoving her hair back off her forehead. 

“They doing dinner down there?” she said, her dry throat rasping on it. 

He shrugged. “Mum’s organizing, I think. It– helps, I think." 

She nodded, looking down to do the clasps up slowly, one by one. 

"I just wanted to go back to the tent,” said Ron. “Be alone. It’s quiet." 

"I won’t get in your way,” she said. “It’s still pitched down there." 

"I know,” he said. “With you, I meant.”

“That’s not alone,” she said. “I’m not quiet,” she said. She clasped and unclasped the bag. 

“Words. Accuracy. I never claimed to be the clever one." 

"But you are, Ron–" 

"Hermione,” he said. “Come with me? You shouldn’t be sitting here alone. Come home.”

They went down the grass through chilling air. Ron could hear his mother in his head, telling him to take her bag and carry it for her, but he just reached out for her hand. 


-


The day after the end of it all, Ron laid on the floor of the tent, counting stitches in the canvas, while Hermione read Hogwarts, A History like she didn’t have it memorized. She read her favorite parts aloud, stopping mid-sentence when the tent flap rustled and opened. 

“Ginny’s sitting on Neville until he agrees to sleep in a real bed and not a pile of shrubbery,” Harry said, stepping inside and shutting it up behind him. “She got Luna to help because she says otherwise Luna will just fade into a corner and not come out for food.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m not intruding, right?" 

"Don’t be daft,” said Ron and patted a bit of floor next to him. “C'mon, join in, Hermione’s trying to bore me to sleep. I suspect it’s an act of caring concern.” Hermione threw a pillow at his head without looking up from the pages.  

The day after the battle, they fell asleep in a tangle in the center of the tent that they had lugged across their country, across these long, cold days of the war. They had danced here to the radio, had chewed protein bars, played chess and bled and yelled at each other. 

But the war was over and they were growing into it, slow, staying up too late as they leaned into each other and whispered on this threadbare rug. They meant to wobble to their feet and get to bed, but Harry was clinging to Hermione’s hand and none of them wanted to go. 

They would get too old for this– hard floors and the way Harry’s neck was cricked up on Ron’s bony shoulder. Hermione’s snoring would get worse and Ron would have to sleep with four carefully arranged pillows to stop his back from aching in the mornings, but Harry would always have a place here. He had slept on Ron’s bedroom floor at fourteen, leaned on Hermione outside his parents’ broken home. 

In the weeks after the battle, Hermione would track down her parents and move back home, and they would all help the Weasleys rebuild the Burrow. Harry would move in Andromeda Tonks’s spare room. “We’re almost like family, after all,” she’d say briskly, shooing him into the house and showing him where she kept the tea, Teddy’s diapers, and the whiskey. They’d come for visits and talk through the night in each of those homes, curled up under Molly’s quilts or out on the Granger’s back porch swing or over fingers of firewhiskey with Andromeda. 

In the months after the war, he and Ron would get a flat while they went through Auror training and Hermione would crash there five nights out of seven. Her university textbooks would take over their countertops, shelves, tables, and floor and Harry wouldn’t tease them (too much) for how hilariously long they tried to pretend it was the couch Hermione slept on. 

Every home Ron and Hermione lived in, for the rest of their lives, would have a place for Harry– a spare room or a patch of floor or an old sofa. He would know how Hermione took her coffee, and his favorite cereal and Ginny’s favorite oatmeal would always been in the cupboard, and their children would have giggly cousin-sleepovers in magical tents they pitched on the living room rug. 

When the kids came shrieking in to wake them at absolutely unacceptable, ugly hours, Ginny would groan curse words they’d repeat gleefully among themselves, but Harry would let them grab his hands in their little sticky ones and pull him barefoot and messy-haired out into the morning.

Worse Than Nicotine

Prompt: “You’re the health-conscious med student and I’m the chain-smoking art student who’s also your barista and you leave me notes on smoking and lung health on your napkins and also a 20-page essay on lung cancer tucked under your saucer” AU. Where Sirius is the chain-smoking art student.

Word Count: About 5,500.

Warning(s): Smoking, sexual tension, kissing, motorcycle ride without all the gear. Don’t accept a ride from someone on a motorcycle unless they supply the proper gear and you’re wearing pants and a heavy jacket, preferably. Do some research before riding!

Note: Sort of a modern, college AU. This isn’t smut, but, I have to warn you, it does end up being smoking hot. Hah. Get it? Anyway, thank you @princesse-de-ravenclaw for reading this over!


To the barista with the pretty grey eyes,

Smoking can cause the lens of the eyes to fog up and the whites of the eyes to turn yellow. Don’t ruin their beauty. If not for yourself, then for those who have the pleasure of seeing them. ;)

Love, Y/N.

Sirius rolled his eyes, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he pocketed yet another note from you. If you were to open a spare drawer in his flat, you would find a collection of tossed napkins with rushed scribbles littering the surface. Maybe one day Sirius would take your insistent advice, but right now, all he wanted was a drag.

“Another love letter from your favorite med student?”

Keep reading

Jamaica

This is a lil something I wrote because I watched BTA and it ruined me…special thanks to @sing-me-a-song-harry for helping me edit and sort it out!! Hope you all like it!! xx B

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sunlight was blinding, the humidity making your skin sticky and already making your hair nearly unmanageable as you made your way off the tarmac. You squinted and pulled down your shades, your eyes darting everywhere until they landed on a curly head of hair about ten yards from you. Harry was bent over his cell phone, lips rolled into his mouth and a pair of black RayBans holding his hair back from his eyes. He looked as delicious as ever, and you swallowed as you admired the slight tan he’d acquired over the past couple of weeks. Harry had always held a soft spot in your heart; with his killer smile and charming personality, you often wanted nothing more than to get on your knees for him. That sort of thinking wasn’t appropriate though, especially since the pair of you had always been just friends, nothing more. You cleared your throat.
“Harry!” You called and his head popped up, a warm smile on his lips.
”‘Lo, love! ’Ve missed ya, glad yeh decided t'come down.“ His arms wrapped around you, his lips pressing sweetly to your cheek, and you bit your lip as the scent of him flooded your senses. You loved the way he smelled. “Shall we?” Harry reached for your bags, leaving one arm draped casually over your shoulder.
“How’ve you been, H? How’s the writing?” Harry’s dimples deepened, and his eyes sparkled happily. He was well-rested for once, with no dark circles under his clear green eyes, and you smiled up at him as he began to ramble on about his album. Harry talked the entire way to the house he shared with his writing partners, his voice light and hands moving animatedly as he drove. The house itself was gorgeous, and when Harry showed you to your temporary room, you couldn’t help the snort that came from your lips.
“What happened to living modestly hidden in Jamaica?” A shrug and a half smile was his response as he set your bags down. He suddenly seemed close, very close, and his eyes had a new, unreadable look in them.
“’M glad yeh came, love, really. ’S been too long.” Harry gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear and out of your face, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Your tummy flipped when you watched his eyes dart quickly to your lips. If only he would just lean a little closer…..
“Harry? Y/N?” The pair of you jumped at Jeff’s voice calling through the house, your cheeks heating as Harry scratched the back of his neck.
“Yeh, um…get unpacked and settled, yeah? I think everyone wants t'go out t'night, yeh should go.” Harry turned to leave, his shoulders a little tense, and you frowned.
“Are you not going?” His head turned to look at you over his shoulder and he offered a small smile.
“Yeh know me, love; partying isn’t m'thing, is it?” Then he was out the door, leaving you to mull over going out or not.
Two hours later, everyone but you and Harry filed out of the house, taking all of the loud noise and talking with them. Harry’d taken to sitting by the dining table, a guitar in his hands and a glass of wine sitting in front of him as he strummed quietly.
“Mind if I join you?” His eyes flew to you, his lips curling into a smile. A large hand tunneled through his hair as he looked you over, taking in your pajama shorts and loose tank top. You could’ve sworn a flash of desire sparked in his eyes.
“Not at all. Wine?” He was already pouring you half a glass, sliding it over to you as you took the seat next to him. Thanking him with a nod, you took a sip, your gaze moving to the large windows to admire the view of the beach and beautiful sea beyond it.
“How’s everythin’ in your world? How’s..what’s his name?” You didn’t miss the way his lip curled down in distaste at the mention of your last fling.
“Wouldn’t know. I ended it just after you left…prick was sleeping with two other girls.” A grunt left Harry’s lips as he propped his guitar against the table, his hand coming to rest on your thigh.
“I’m sorry, love. Yeh too good fo’ him anyways.” You shrugged, draining the wine from your glass and setting it back on the table.
“I sure know how to pick them, eh?” A humorless laugh left your lips and Harry frowned, shaking his head.
“’S'alright, pet, he was the one with the problem, not you.” You rolled your head back, still hyper aware of Harry’s warm palm on your thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your bare skin.
“Where are all the good ones, H? The creeps and arseholes are always the ones I attract. Where are all the men like you?” Harry’s brows rose a little, a ball tightening in his stomach. All he’d wanted to do since you’d gotten off the plane was kiss you until your lips were swollen, and now here you were, asking him where men like him were hiding. He shifted a little closer to you, hand tightening on your thigh.
“Men like me?” The words were quiet, unfocused as Harry watched your throat move as you swallowed.
“You know, men who…are real. Who aren’t afraid to let you know what they want. Men who are loyal, good guys. Where do all of you hide out?” Now you were so close to each other that you could feel his warm breath puffing over your cheek. Harry’s tongue swept along his bottom lip, and you longed to kiss him. His fingers edged under the hem of your shorts, goosebumps raising on your skin.
“’M certainly not hidin’, angel.” A crooked smirk tugged at his lips and then Harry leaned in, his pink lips covering yours. You gasped, and it was enough of a space for his tongue to edge out, sweeping along your top lip as if to ask permission. You eagerly gave him more room to work, your hands going to fist in his white t-shirt as his tongue met yours, tentatively brushing over it. When the first tiny whimper bubbled from your throat, Harry pulled back, his forehead pressing against yours.
“D'yeh wan’ this?” Always so good, that was Harry. So, so good all the time. In response, you stood and leaned over him, taking his jaw in your hands and kissing him hotly. A surprised grunt rumbled through him as his hands grasped your hips, pushing you back as he stood. Your backside met the wall, and you moaned as Harry’s hands began to wander. His fingers worked to push your shirt up and over your head, revealing your tummy and chest to him. He tossed your shirt to the floor and his hands moved to cup your breasts over your bra.
“Harry,” you managed, hips bucking into his, moaning again once you felt the hard length of him pressing against your lower body.
“Yeh wet fo’ me? Hm, angel?” Your bra straps were tugged down your arms, and the clasp was undone before your bra joined your tank top on the floor.
“Yes, yes, I’m so wet.” It was true; your panties had been ruined since his hand first landed on your thigh. A growl left Harry’s lips at your words, his dark eyes dropping to your breasts.
“Jesus, pet. S'pretty.” His tongue lapped over one of your nipples, and you let out a garbled moan, your hands tangling in his hair as he wrapped his lips around your breast. Harry’s hips rutted into yours, desperate for any amount of pressure on his aching cock. Your hand slipped down to slide into his loose shorts, easily finding his cock. He groaned against your skin when you circled your hand around his thick length, enjoying the heavy weight of him. Harry worked to yank down your shorts and panties, lips moving heatedly over your exposed skin.
“Christ, darling, feels s'good.” His breath puffed against your collarbones as he thrusted his hips with each stroke of your hand, moaning each time you thumbed the tip of him. Your free hand went to pull down his shorts, thankful for the fact that he tended to go commando, and your mouth watered at the sight of his fully hard cock. It was flushed and pretty, little pearls of precum already beading on his head. “S'nough, pet,” Harry said darkly, one arm going to brace the wall beside your head and the other moving to grasp your thigh to wrap your leg around his hip. “Yeh ready?” He asked as your fingers twisted in the thin material of his shirt. You nodded as Harry mouthed along your jawline and crowded against you, one hand moving to guide himself into you.
“Big!” You gasped, reveling in the burning stretch that came as he buried himself to the hilt. A low, rumbling groan spread through Harry’s chest, his eyes squeezing shut as your walls clenched around him. His lips closed around your earlobe and he began to thrust, hips rutting into yours with smooth, measured strokes. You were so tight and warm around him, taking every inch of him gladly, and Harry was seeing stars by the time a curl of pleasure began to ball in his stomach.
“Yeh feel amazin’, pet…knew yeh would, wanted this fo’ so long.” His neck veins strained as he threw his head back, his words turning into long moans as your walls clenched around him. His thick cock brushed every nerve in you, goading you quickly to your orgasm as his lips lowered to your neck. Harry nibbled at your damp skin, tongue soothing the sting of his bite as you mewled loudly.
“Please, Harry!” You cried, hand slipping up to tug at his hair. Harry growled at the feeling, hips shifting to pound into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the otherwise quiet house, and you thanked whoever was watching out for you for sending your friends out of the house for the night.
“Can yeh feel me all up in yeh?” Harry’s hand circled your wrist and led it to rest on your lower belly, where he pressed it down until you could feel the tip of him brushing your walls. A loud moan ripped through you. Filthy. He was absolutely filthy with you, and you couldn’t help the garbled half-sentences that fell from your lips as his fingers went to circle your clit.
“Close! So close, baby, please.” Your voice was strangled as you fought for a decent breath, your throat dry from crying out. Harry’s lips covered yours, swallowing your moans and shouts as he moved faster, his cock beginning to twitch inside of you. The kiss was just as filthy as his words, sloppy and wet, all tongue meeting tongue and lips smacking against lips. Your hands fisted tighter in his shirt and hair as you barreled towards your orgasm, back arching.
“Yeh gonna cum fo’ me? Gonna b'good, pet?” Harry’s tongue licked down your throat and you screwed your eyes shut as he sucked a nipple into his mouth.
“Yes! Yes, I’ll be good, please, please, Harry. I’m so close,” you cried, head rolling back against the wall. Harry grunted in response, the vein that wrapped along the underside of him pulsing with pleasure as he neared his edge.
“Cum,” he puffed against your breast, “cum fo’ me. C'mon, angel, give it t'me.” Your mouth parted in a silent moan as your orgasm broke over you, white flooding your vision. Harry was quick to follow, spurting hot, sticky ropes of his seed deep inside of you. Sweat coated the both of you, and the Jamaican air wasn’t helping, almost suffocatingly hot as you fought for breaths. Harry’s head rested against your collarbones, his softening length still nestled inside of you. You pressed short kisses to his hairline, trembling still, and Harry huffed out a laugh.
“Well tha’s one way t’ welcome yeh.” You let out a shaky laugh as he withdrew, hands coming to cup your cheeks. “’Ve wanted yeh fo’ s'long, love.” A sweet, chaste kiss was pressed to your mouth and you smiled sleepily at him, running a hand through his messy hair.
“Now you’ve got me.” You replied. Harry’s response was a wicked, promising smirk that made heat coil in your belly again.
“C'mon, pet, there’s a king-sized bed with silk sheets that I need t’ see yeh writhing against.” And writhe you did.

Why does the snake mascot of Slytherin house mean Slytherins are sly and murderous
have you actually met a snake
my friend’s python is literally what you’d get if you took a fat spaghetti noodle, made it come to life, and gave it social anxiety
snakes are fat spaghetti noodles with social anxiety that flop on warm things, hide in themselves when threatened, lick things they’re not supposed to lick because curiosity, and accidentally get sucked into couches
THATs the dangerous clever and deadly mascot of Slytherin house

Diary

Originally posted by imlostinsantacarla

Request:  Can I request a Paul imagine where he imprints on his ex-girlfriend who he cheated on during their past relationship and she wants nothing to do with him. So he has to work so hard for her to even think about him as anything. I saw this idea in passing on tumblr one day. It was just a what if not a full imagine. I just thought you could write this amazingly. Thank you lovely.

For Anon
Words: 1,073

Thank you Sweetie! <3

Okay, so I’m doing this with my head cannon that Paul was taught to write things down to deal with his temper problem. These are his written musings about you, him and the imprint situation.


Day 7

I tried to talk to you again today on the beach. You threw your soda over me and I had to get out of there before I phased. I know I don’t deserve it but c’mon Y’N, can’t you stand to be near me for at least a while?  

Day 14

The first time I’d seen you since you washed me in your drink, you were hanging out with Kim and Jared on the beach. You ignored me but at least you didn’t leave. Sam thinks the imprint will help you forgive me eventually. I don’t think it will, not sure how you could. I miss you, I missed you before the imprint and now it’s worse than ever. I don’t know why I kissed your friend back then, I was a stupid child and it cost me you. But I’ve grown up now Y/N, I promise. I’ve seen war and ripped apart monsters.

Day 16

You ignored me today.

Day 21

Sam had to pull me off the beach today when I saw you on date. Guy looked like a dickhead.

Day 22

You agreed, he was a dickhead and you actually held a conversation with me in the school canteen to tell me what an arsehole he was. I nearly made you smile and then I couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Day 25

There was a bonfire tonight and you came with Kim and sat with her and Emily for most of the night but finally, we talked. To be honest, you just let rip on me and I deserved it, I think it might have helped you to get out your anger at everything that happened between us. Luckily I was on patrol later that night because I phased anyway, I can’t believe that I’d ever make you feel that way.

Day 32

You were freaking out today, you needed to get across to your younger brother’s school to pick him up because he was ill but your car was in the shop. I took you in my truck, you didn’t even have to ask, and then dropped you both off at your house. You kissed my cheek as you left in thank you.
I had to kick Embry and Quil’s ass later for laughing at my soppiness.

Day 39

You found out about The Pack today, Jacob lost his temper about Bella’s love life and phased in front of you. It took Sam and Paul to restrain me from him.

Day 53

Today was the first time you let any of the pack see you in two weeks, it was a shame that I had to force my way into your house to get you. I’m sorry if I scared you but there was leech roaming around and I needed you to say save at Emily and Sam’s house.
It must have helped because you stopped flinching around us when we came back.

Day 60

You came to find me to today, you wanted to learn more about wolves and you trusted me to answer your questions and make you feel safe. I’ve never felt so proud. We walked down the beach and talked for hours until it cold out and you cuddled up to my side for warmth. It was the first time I’ve blushed in a long time, I gave Jared a dead arm for his teasing.

Day 64

No idea how I convinced you but tonight is DATE NIGHT. DATE NIGHT. DATE NIGHT.

Day 70

DATE NIGHT PART TWO – GOD YOU’RE GORGOUS.

Day 75

Its official, you’re my girlfriend! Again! No one’s life could beat mine right now.

Day 82

You found about the imprint yesterday and today we talked through it. You asked for some time alone to think it through, I agreed but its killing me.

Day 84

You came to find me today, you made me sit down and marched about the room ranting about how if you accepted the imprint then it didn’t mean that I could control you. I’d never want to control you anyway. But you did look adorable with your hands on your hips giving me a mini lecture. It made me want to pick you up and spin you around.

Maybe not the time.

Day 86

You met my dad today, I’m sorry that you had to go through that. He’s an arse, one day soon he’ll go back to the big house and leave me and my family the fuck alone. I was close to phasing when you threw your arms around my neck and told me that if I phased then I’d be taking you with me.  Miraculously, you calmed me down.

What did I do to deserve you?

Day 365

I saved the last page of this shitty little notepad for this little note for you. It’s been years since I scribbled all this down, the story of getting you to fall for me. Don’t deny it, you fell for me hard. I can’t blame you. I am a damn god. Anyway, after our lives together you’re used to me scribbling all these down, now it’s mostly habit. I stopped having a bad temper the day you said ‘I do’. I’ve got notebooks full of our adventures, our marriage and our children.

You’re the best mother and imprint that any wolf could ask for and if any of the guys say different then I’ll fight them.

So this is one of your presents for our anniversary. Sit back in bed while me and the kids make breakfast and read through this little book, then we’ll start the hunt for the rest of your hidden presents.

Love you babe xx

Tired - Zach

Request: Could you do a sleepy!Zach imagine? So like after a big game or something stressful and he just crashes and gets all cute and fluffy? 

Warning: I wrote this on the bus so it’s kinda short 


Originally posted by veronicsalodge

Tired- Zach 

Your boyfriend ran up to giving you a sweaty hug after his game causing you to laugh and push him away.

“Ew no, you smell gross.” You said faking a gag. He rolled his eyes and pulled you in closer just to spite you.

“Well you love me anyways.” He said taking advantage of the height difference and resting his chin on top of your head.

“C’mon dork I’m taking you home.” You responded swinging his keys in your hand. He had given his stuff to you before the game and it was pretty much tradition for you to drive him home after his games since he was always exhausted. The two of you left the court and climbed into his car. His hand reached out to yours in the middle console and he leaned against the window with closed eyes. You let him rest until you got to his house even though you knew it would be difficult to get him out of the car when you got there.  Finally, you pulled up to his house and kissed his cheek trying to get him to wake up.

“Babe we’re here.” You said softly while trying to shake him awake. All you got in response was a groan. You sighed and got out of the car walking around to his side and opening the door.

“Zach.” You said louder trying to grab his hand and pull him out of the car. Slowly his eyes fluttered open and he sighed as he got out of the car, not letting go of your hand. You unlocked his door since his parents were out of town and locked up. The first thing he did was walk to the couch and basically fall onto it.

“Babe come cuddle with me.” He said looking up at you from the couch with half open eyes. You smiled at how cute he was and laid next to him, climbing into his arms without hesitation. He twirled your hair in his hand and watched you with a goofy grin on his face.

“I love you.” He admitted looking down at you in his arms. You two had said those words before but he wasn’t the type to just say them randomly so it always made your heart flutter.

“I love you too.” You said reaching up a bit to kiss him.

“You’re so beautiful, like you mean a lot to me.” He told you, his voice filled with sleep.

You grinned at him, “Go to sleep love.”

Sketch || Jughead Jones

Request from @carmineofmidgardHey !!i was wondering if you could write something with artist!reader x jughead fluff ? These are some Van Gogh quotes that I like, you could use them as like prompts: Art is to console those who are broken by life.

A/N: This my first oneshot ever written! I hope this fulfills your request!

Gif by @juptern

—————

“Art is to console those who are broken by life.” -Vincent Van Gogh

Saying you’ve had a tough life was an understatement. Your father had left the family when you were very little to be with his secretary leaving you and your mom alone. Your mom, while you adored her, kept pushing for you to become a doctor. She wanted you to have a successful and self-sustaining career; one that she never got to have. You on the other hand wanted to be an artist. Ever since your dad left, you loved to draw pictures of fantasy. Castles, dragons, princesses, and princes. Anything that could draw your mind away from your mom crying at night and less frequent phone calls from your happy father was a plus. Eventually, your drawings evolved into portraits. Well, secret portraits. You drew almost everyone in the school, but no one more than Jughead Jones III. Jughead fascinated you, and truth be told, you had a crush on him. How you could crush on someone that you knew nothing about and who didn’t even know your name was anyone’s best guess. As far as you could tell, the only thing you and Jughead had in common was the fact that you were both loners. That’s it.

You and Jughead had off fifth period and you both spent that time in the library, but not sitting next to each other or even near each other. Unfortunately, Reggie and his group also hung out in the library. It was an average Friday and you had just sat down in your chair in the library when Jughead came in, sitting in a chair across the room from you. Just as you pulled your sketchbook to draw, he pulled out his laptop to write. What he was writing, you had no idea. You began to draw the simple outlines of his face, gently moving your pen along the paper. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows and you attempted to capture his facial structure and his emotions. You were so immersed with your drawing that you didn’t notice Reggie peering of your shoulder wearing a wolfish grin. He waited for the librarian to leave the room to copy some papers before he stood up and made his way over to you. Within the span of a second, Reggie quickly pulled the sketchbook from your hands, loudly proclaiming,

“Well, what do we have here, Y/N?”

Everyone in the library looked up from what they were doing, including Jughead. In a flash, you were on your feet, attempting to get your sketchbook back from Reggie.

“Give it back, Reggie!”

Reggie chortled as he looked through your sketches. He had struck gold.

“Everyone, look! Y/N’s got a thing for Norman Bates over here!”

Reggie held up your sketches for everyone to see. Panic and embarrassment flooded your senses and tears began to well up in your eyes as everyone began to laugh at you. Everywhere you looked you could see people laughing. Then you made eye contact with Jughead. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He was looking at you intensely, but he wasn’t glaring. There was a look of concern there as well. It was too much for you to bear and you quickly ran out of the library, down the hallway, and out of the school. Knowing you couldn’t go home without your mother knowing you were skipping class, you began the trek to Pop’s.

Pop knew you were upset the moment you walked into the diner. You were always so exuberant, always saying hello and asking him about his family first chance you got. But now? You were silent. Pop looked over at you and smiled softly.

“You want the usual?”

You nodded and sat in one of the booths, your back facing the door. Pop came over with a chocolate milkshake.

“It’s on me.” Pop said and winked.

You smiled gratefully at him and slowly sipped the milkshake, the familiar taste bringing you some relief. Then you remembered you left your backpack in the library. Your sketchbook. Reggie probably still had it. He was probably running copies of your sketches of Jughead to put up all over the school to humiliate you as much as he could. You felt the hot sting of tears coming back as you remembered the laughs and Jughead’s stare and quickly wiped them away. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, just thinking about the day’s events before a jingle sounded out around the diner as the front door opened. You didn’t pay much attention to it, swirling your straw around the almost empty glass before you heard something being placed down on the floor beside you. You looked to your side and saw your backpack along with a figure standing right next to you. You knew those black pants and shoes. You froze as you realized who it was and slowly looked up, making eye contact for the second time that day with Jughead Jones III who had your sketchbook in his hand.

“I believe this is yours,” he said as he handed it to you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shakily took the sketchbook back.

“Y/N, right?”

You nodded.

“Yes.”

Your quiet voice was raw from crying and Jughead took notice. He gestured to the seat in front of you.

“Can I sit?”

You nodded, not trusting your own voice. With a quiet “thanks,” he took a seat and the two of you were silent for a moment. You swallowed again. You had to say something.

“How did you know where I was?”

You mentally smacked yourself. Really, out of everything you could’ve said, that’s what your brain came up with? Jughead raised his eyebrows at you.

“I didn’t actually. I came here because I was gonna grab a bite to eat before dropping your stuff off at your house.”

Your cheeks became bright red as you imagined Jughead in your house. Not that you’ve fantasized about that way too many times.

“Well, um, thank you. For giving me back my sketchbook and backpack and all,” you said. “How did you get them back?”

You remembered Reggie’s mean laugh as he held the sketchbook above your head and flinched at the memory. Jughead chuckled at your question.

“It wasn’t easy, let’s just say that.”

You smiled for the first time since the morning and looked down.

“They’re really good,” Jughead said.

You looked up at him inquisitively.

“Your sketches I mean.”

Your heart plunged to your stomach again as you remembered his stare across the room. You looked down again.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “It probably looks like I’m some weird stalker or something.”

You were silent as you waited for his response.

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Jughead said and you looked up at him again, confused by his nonchalant response. “I was kinda hoping you were. Would’ve made a great storyline for my novel.”

He smirked at you and you, realizing he was joking, smiled along with him. Jughead pointed at your empty glass.

“Can I buy you another milkshake?”

You smiled.

“I’d like that.”

—————

A/N: I hope that was okay! Let me know what you thought!

My Love for You

Word Count: 1447

Summary: When Elena Gilbert walks in on you and your husband, Elijah Mikaelson having an intimate moment, Elijah relays a bit of your past and expresses to her his feelings for you.

Requested By: @badhippiehabits

Can you do an Elijah Mikaelson imagine? Where the reader and Elijah were together and married before he was turned and when he was turned she was turned too. And when Elijah and the reader go to help Elena with Klaus, Elena walks in on Elijah and the reader having a cute moment and when the reader is leaving she over hears Elena asking Elijah about their love and he gets all glossy eyes and tell her about their story and how their love will never die. Please and thank you❤️

Pairings: Reader x Elijah Mikaelson

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long it’s my first request and I wanted it to be as perfect as I could possibly make it!

It was Elijah’s night to make dinner and as always the delectable scent of his cooking lured you downstairs and into the kitchen.

“Mm.” You said upon entering the kitchen. “I don’t know what you’re cooking but as usual it smells delicious!” You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

He chuckled. “Thank you, my sweet.”

You kissed his shoulder blade, spreading your hands along the strong, muscular planes of his chest. “I love you Elijah Mikaelson.”

He turned off the stove and spun around to face you. Taking either side of your face in his hands, he leaned down until your faces were mere inches apart. “I love you more, y/n”

“Impossible,” you smirked.

He wrapped his arms around you. You placed your hands on his chest. He leaned in further and kissed you. Slowly, your eyes closed and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer.

That kiss was perfect. It could have gone on forever and neither one of you would have noticed. And then you heard it. A soft knock at the doorway.

You broke apart, startled. Elijah shoved you behind him. He tensed, barring his fangs ready to protect you from the world itself if necessary.

Elena, stood wide-eyed in the doorway of the kitchen.

Elijah relaxed his stance and began straightening his shirt collar. “Um, hello Elena.”

You dipped your head in greeting. “Elena.”

“Hi.” Elena said in a meek voice followed by a tiny wave.

You laughed breathily.

“How did you get in here?” Elijah asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Elena’s lips moved but no words came out.

A smile tugged at your lips. You wondered if it was Elijah making her nervous or if her own embarrassment had left her tongue-tied. Maybe both, you decided.

“Elena!” you exclaimed.  

“I knocked but no one answered!” she finally said. “And both of your cars were in the driveway so I figured that either you two were avoiding me or something terrible happened to you! I’m sorry! I don’t usually go barging into other people’s homes but I really, really need to talk to Elijah! So I tested the door…and it was unlocked…and then I found you guys…in here….kissing…”

When Elena finished she was nervously wringing her hands and looking down at her shoes like a child who’d gotten caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. It was so adorable that you were nearly in tears trying to keep yourself from laughing.

Elijah cleared his throat awkwardly. “And what is that you need to speak to me about, Elena?”

The doppelganger sighed, throwing her hands in the air. “Klaus is up to his old tricks again.”

You and Elijah groaned in unison. You’d had enough of Klaus and ‘his old tricks’ to last you a lifetime.

“Well, in that case I’m going back upstairs to—“

“Keep the bed warm?” Elijah finished.

You gaped at him in shock. He was rarely so playful in front of anyone outside of his immediate family.

From the corner of your eye you saw Elena’s cheeks turn bright red.

“Elijah! We have a guest,” you scolded, gesturing to Elena.

“What?” he laughed.

You playfully swatted him on the arm. He returned the favor by swatting you on the behind. You yelped in surprise.  

“No, no! It’s fine. I did break into your house after all…” Elena’s cheeks reddened further.

“What is wrong with you?”

Elijah shrugged. “I love you. That’s all.”

You smiled and pecked a kiss on his cheek.

Striding past Elena and out of the kitchen, you spoke, “Just yell if he steps out of line, Elena.”

The two snickered as you made your way upstairs and into the master bedroom.

“Please excuse my crude behavior, Elena.” You heard your husband say from below.

“No, it’s fine. You and y/n are adorable together.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you think so.”

“How long have you been together?”

“Since I was human,” you could almost hear the grin in his voice.

“Wow… What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Being with the same person for over a thousand years… I can’t imagine being with just the same person for one thousand years.”

“I suppose that it’s all about the person. I can’t imagine a day without my y/n at my side.”

Climbing into your bed you beamed with pride and pleasure.

“That’s beautiful, Elijah.”

“It’s true too.”

She laughed. “So how did you meet y/n?”

“We sort of grew up together. Our fathers were in business together, my father was a wealthy landowner and y/n’s father was a contractor. My father owned the land and y/n’s father built the houses on the land.”

“So your family was supportive?”

Elijah snorted. “Our mothers were supportive and so were my siblings. Rebekah especially. Y/N is like the sister she never had. Our fathers on the other hand were furious.”

You shuddered at the memory.

“Why?”

“Who knows? I remember Mikael went out of his way to make y/n uncomfortable every time she visited our home. Y/N’s father, thankfully at least tried to be civil when I was over.”  

“That was nice.”

“Yes, but when I left he would yell at y/n so loudly that the whole village could hear.”

A chill crept up your spine, you could still hear the roar of your father’s voice in your ears.

“Oh.” She said flatly.

Elijah snickered lightly. “It’s okay though. We got through it. And we’ll get through anything else that life throws at us so long as we are together.”

Your lips twitched, fighting a smile.

“That’s really beautiful.” Elena said softly. “You really, truly love her, don’t you?”

“That woman up there is my world,” you heard him say.

“That’s amazing. When I was little my mom used to read to me stories about princes and princesses finding their soulmates and true loves. When I grew older I tossed the whole idea of true loves and soulmates aside. It all sounded so…childish and unrealistic. And yet here I am looking right at in you and y/n.”

Elijah released a breathy laugh. “Well if true loves and soulmates are indeed real then there is no doubt in my mind that y/n is mine. I love her like I have loved no other. Her very existence completes me. Her eyes, her scent, her personality bewitches me… I remember that on the night of our hundredth wedding anniversary party I looked upon the face of my wife with such overwhelming love that I was afraid I might burst before the first toast could be made. Just days before the celebration I was wondering if it would always be like this, if my love for her would ever fade. Nine hundred years later I think it’s safe to say that the answer to that question is no.” He laughed.

But you weren’t laughing at all. You were crying. Your husband’s words had brought you to tears. His voiced feelings hit you where you needed it most. You too had shared your husband’s worries and for centuries you dreaded the day when your husband would lose interest in you or when someone new would manage to catch his eye. Now you knew that that day would never come.

You heard Elijah sniff a couple of times.

You swallowed your laughter. He felt it too, you realized, the relief, the overwhelming euphoria of being and feeling completely content and satisfied in your relationship and in the one you love.

“So what was it you needed, Elena?”

X

When Elena departed, Elijah resumed cooking dinner and made a quick and sharply-worded phone call to his brother, Klaus.

When he was done, he entered your bedroom with a gleaming silver tray in his hands. He grinned at you, sitting the steaming tray with your dinner on it at the foot of the bed. “I thought we might eat in bed for a change.”

He leaned down and kissed your lips. His lips were soft and warm against your own but kiss remained strong.

You stroked his cheek, his stubble scratched at your palm. “I love you with all of my heart, Elijah Mikaelson.”

His cheeks colored a tad. “I knew you were listening.”

“You meant it? All of it?”

“Every last word.” He confirmed.

“I feel the same,” you told him. “I’ve never felt as strong, or as confident, or as beautiful or as…whole as I have in these last one thousand plus years I have spent at your side. When I’m with you no matter where I am the world is brighter, kinder. Thank you for being my husband, Elijah and thank you for making me your wife.”

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading. And thanks to @badhippiehabits for requesting.

Smile [j.j.]

Originally posted by betty-and-jughead


Summary: Kevin brings both Jughead and Veronica’s attention to you and your never-changing attitude. (Jughead is kind of a dick in this one…oops?)


Masterlist


“Who is that?” Veronica asked, pointing towards the girl who sat alone in a booth at Pop’s.

Kevin Keller leaned forwards in his seat, causing everyone at the table to lean towards him in a rather dramatic fashion. “That’s (Y/N) (L/N). She never stops smiling.”

Veronica scoffed in disbelief before being cut off by Archie.

“No its true,” he interjected as he doused his fry in ketchup. “I have never seen her without a smile on her face.”

“No person can smile all the time,” Veronica retorted. “I found it hard just to smile at my father’s business events.”

Jughead snorted at her comment before reaching over and stealing some of her fries. “Nope. She smiles all the time. Whenever and at whoever she can. I bet she even smiles in her sleep.”

“And,” Betty cut in. “She has the hugest crush on Jughead.”

“Why?” Veronica nearly shouted, bewildered. She smiled sheepishly when Jughead sent her a disbelieving glare. “No offense Jughead, I’m sure you’re great. But…you’re you and she’s hot.”

“Damn right,” Archie and Kevin mumbled in agreement as Betty shot them a disbelieving look.

“What? Even you can’t deny it Betty. (Y/N)’s really pretty,” Archie exclaimed, trying to defend himself. Betty looked at Jughead before sighing and nodding.

“They’re right Jug,” she conceded. Jughead simply rolled his eyes.

Veronica turned her attention back to your booth, where you stood up and gathered your belongings before walking to the door.

“Guys she’s coming this way,” Archie hissed. “Act cool!”

“Hey (Y/N),” Archie said as you walked by.

You paused slightly, a soft grin making its way onto your face. “Hey Archie, Archie’s friends.”

“Hi,” Veronica replied, stretching out her hand. “Veronica Lodge, I don’t believe we met.”

You stopped for a moment, shifting all your things to one arm before grasping her hand in your own, the smile never leaving your face. “(Y/N) (L/N). I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Would you like to join us (Y/N)?” Betty asked, motioning for Kevin to scoot over.

Your smile widened slightly as you opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off by Jughead throwing his head back and groaning.

The entirety of the table could see your smile falter slightly before you composed yourself. “No thanks Betty. I really should be getting home, it’s pretty late.”

“I’ll walk you home!” Archie exclaimed, scrambling out of his seat and grabbing his jacket. Jughead rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine Arch, really,” you replied with a small giggle at his actions. “Enjoy yourselves guys, I’ll see you at school.”

The tables (sans Jughead) said their goodbyes as you left.

As soon as you exited, everyone turned towards Jughead, punching him in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Jug!” Betty cried in disbelief. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Jughead asked innocently. Betty replied by throwing her head back and mocking Jughead’s groan.

“C'mon guys. You seriously couldn’t want her to join us? I mean yeah, she may be pretty but she’s annoying. Always smiling and talking…” Jughead trailed off as he met Veronica’s frustrated stare.

“Jughead. She’s a perfectly nice girl who is practically in love with you! She seems like a good person and all you have to say about her is that she’s annoying?”

“Yes.”

Veronica scoffed and left the diner, being followed by Betty and Archie.

“You really shouldn’t be so judgmental,” Kevin chirped, leaving the diner as well.


“(Y/N)!”

You spun around at the sound, a smile spreading across your face as you saw Veronica.

“Hey!” you replied. “Veronica, right?”

“Yup,” Veronica replied, weaving her arm through yours. “So how about we hang out after school today and you can tell me all about the tragically boring things to do in Riverdale?”

You raised an eyebrow and laughed. “I’m pretty sure Kevin covered all of that already but sure.”

“Great! Pop’s after school?” Veronica asked.

“Pop’s after school,” you confirmed.

You met with Veronica at Pop’s that day…and the next, and the next. Eventually, you began to hang out with each other daily, much to Archie’s glee and Jughead’s dismay.

Evenings at Pop’s became common and you found yourself squished between Archie and Jughead more than once. Study sessions also grew in popularity once everyone found out that you were a model student.

The best place to study was Archie’s house. It was calm and cozy and Fred was such an amazing person. Archie and Jughead were lucky to have him.

You glanced up briefly, chuckling at Archie as he strummed his guitar.

Kevin & Betty had left earlier, followed by Veronica who needed to sort some things out with her mom. That left you and Archie in his room, with Jughead downstairs as he looked for more food.

“So, are you going to the fundraiser?” Archie asked, speaking over the sound of his guitar.

You paused slightly, hesitating as you put all your things away. “I’m not sure. I mean I was asked by Reggie but I told him I’d have to think about it.”

Archie frowned slightly. “Are you gonna go with him?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, Reggie’s a great guy but I’ve never really hung out with him y'know?”

“Will you go with me?” Archie blurted, wincing as how rushed his words came out.

Your nose scrunched up as you you tilted your head in confusion. “What?”

Archie put his guitar down and got off his bed, stepping closer to you as he ran his hand through his hair. “Will you go with me? To the fundraiser?”

You looked at him for a moment, smiling slightly as he nervously looked down at his feet. “Yes Arch, I’ll go with you.”

It’s not like the guy I like is gonna ask me anyways you thought bitterly to yourself.

You stood on your tiptoes, reaching up to place a kiss on Archie’s cheek.

“Wait, rea-” Archie’s question was cut off, his lips meeting yours as he turned his face to meet your gaze. Both of your eyes fluttered shut on instinct, the kiss soft and sweet as he gently placed his hands on your waist, one of yours resting softly on his neck.

You pulled away as you heard something drop, quickly turning towards the door and seeing nothing there.

“I should uh, I should go,” you said, grabbing your backpack.

Archie nodded. “Yeah, I’ll pick you up okay? I’ll text you.”

You smiled and quickly left the room, running down the stairs.

You made a beeline for the door, accidentally bumping into Jughead on your way out.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, meeting his eyes. His blue eyes looked at you for a minute, meeting your eyes before dropping down to your lips as he let out a loud scoff and walked away.

You quickly left the house, your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realized that Jughead had seen what had occurred upstairs.


“Wait, you kissed her?” Veronica exclaimed as she sat in a booth at Pop’s with Betty and Archie.

Archie nodded.

“And she kissed you back?” Betty questioned.

Archie nodded once more.

B & V exchanged glances, squealing softly.

“So how was it?” Veronica asked.

Archie hesitated before answering. “Honestly, it wasn’t anything special.”

The two girls gasped.

“It’s just,” Archie continued. “I’ve had this crush on her for years y'know and now that I’ve finally kissed her, it’s just…I didn’t feel anything.”

“So you don’t like her?”

“No, I don’t think I ever really did,” Archie admitted.

“Hey guys!” you chirped as you stood next to their booth.

“Uh, we were just leaving. See you later (Y/N/N),” Betty shouted, latching onto Veronica’s arm and dragging her out of Pop’s.

“What was that all about?” you chuckled as you slid into the booth across from Archie.

Archie shrugged before leaning in slightly. “Listen (Y/N), about what happened the other day…”

“The kiss?” you asked hesitantly. Archie nodded. “Listen Arch, you’re great and all-”

“But it felt-” Archie broke in.

“Weird,” you both finished in unison. You met his eyes, both of you bursting into laughter.

“God I thought I had the biggest crush on you,” Archie gasped. “And then I kissed you and it felt like I was kissing my sister.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, no offense Archie, but it felt really awkward kissing someone I don’t have a crush on.”

Archie wiggled his eyebrows. “Like Jughead.”

You blushed. “Anyways. About the fundraiser…”

“We could still go,” Archie said. “As friends.”

You smiled. “I’d like that.”


The fundraiser was a dance that had been set up by the River Vixens (read: Cheryl) to raise money for new equipment.

It rolled around quite quickly and next thing you know, you were walking into Riverdale High’s gym clad in a pretty blue dress hanging off of Archie’s arm.

Cheryl, being Cheryl, demanded that the event be formal, and as you noticed Jughead in a blazer and a form-fitting button-up, you couldn’t help but whisper a quick ‘Thank you Cheryl Blossom’ under your breath.

You smiled at Betty, Veronica, Kevin, and Jughead as you approached them, being pleasantly surprised when Jughead nodded at you in acknowledgement.

“You guys look amazing!” Veronica gushed before turning to the others. “Don’t they? They look like a match made in heaven.”

You blushed slightly before laughing awkwardly as you caught Jughead’s eye. He raised an eyebrow as his eyes fluttered between your lips and Archie.

“Well you guys look great as well,” Archie proclaimed. “How about a dance? Ronnie?”

Ronnie smirked as she took Archie’s outstretched hand. You all watched them walk onto the dancefloor and start swaying.

“Look it’s Joaquin!” Kevin exclaimed. “Let’s go talk to him.”

Kevin latched onto Betty’s arm and pulled her away, leaving you and Jughead alone.

You continued watching Archie and Veronica with a soft smile on your face, swaying softly to the beat of the music by yourself. You began humming the tune under your breath, breaking out of your stupor when you heard Jughead clear his throat.

“Do you uh, want to dance?” He offered lowly, extending his hand.

You kept a straight face as you placed your hand in his, ignoring the blush that was crawling up your neck and curling around your cheeks.

His grip was tight as he led you out onto the dancefloor, passing by Reggie who, upon seeing you, flashed you a blinding smile before speaking. “You look amazing (Y/N)!”

You smiled and said your thanks.

Jughead’s jaw clenched.

You stopped in the middle of the dancefloor as Jughead pulled you into him gently, placing your hand on his shoulder and then sliding his down to your waist.

“So why aren’t you dancing with Archie?” He asked, leaning down to whisper the question into your ear as you danced. “I thought he invited you to this thing.”

Your smile dropped as you responded. “Yeah, as friends.”

“Really?” Jughead responded, skepticism leaking into his voice.

“Yes,” you replied. “I didn’t want to come with Reggie so Archie brought me instead.”

“Then why we’re you guys kissing in his room?” Jughead asked, pulling back slightly so he could see your reaction, expecting you to smile and laugh it off.

Instead, you glared, and he could feel shivers run down his spine. No one had ever been on the receiving end of your glare, you had never used it before.

“That was an accident. He asked me to come and I accepted. I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and it happened,” you said coldly.

Jughead scoffed as you came to a stop. You were now standing in the middle of the dancefloor, both of you still holding each other close.

‘It just happened’? (Y/N) come on, things like that don’t ‘just happen’,” he whispered harshly.

“Well it did Jughead. And it was was a mistake.”

Jughead let out a humorless laugh. “Wow. It meant nothing? That’s harsh. Did you tell him this? Does he know that you don’t like him and that you’re just leading him on?”

Your face flushed red in anger at his accusations. “We both agreed it was a mistake Jughead. And we both agreed to come to the fundraiser. As friends.”

“You don’t just kiss someone and blow them off like that,” Jughead hissed. “And then you try and set him up with little Miss New York over there? That’s pretty low.”

You stepped back, shoving Jughead away from you. “I’m not gonna stand here and take this. I’m going to say it one last time, hopefully your brain processes it this time. First, yes, me and Archie kissed. Second, no, we didn’t feel anything so we decided were better off as friends because he might like Ronnie and I like you. Third, we came as friends, Jughead. The guy I like obviously wants nothing to do with me and I did not want to spend my evening with Reggie, no matter how sweet he is.“

Jughead’s mouth dropped slightly as he processed your words. Sure, Betty would always tease and say that you had the biggest crush on him but he never believed her.

You straightened and smoothed down the front of your dress. “Thank you for the dance Jughead, it was nice while it lasted. I should go. Have a nice night.”

You turned to go, but Jughead lunged for your arm and pulled you back, placing you in the same position you had been in moments before. “(Y/N), don’t go.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why not? I should be getting back to my darling boyfriend, Archie.”

Jughead tilted his head. “Should you really?”

“What’s that supposed to-”

You were cut off by Jughead’s lips. He kissed you softly and hesitantly, almost afraid of what you would do. After a while of you not responding, he went to pull back, only to be stopped by your lips finally pressing back against his.

“But you hate me,” you mumbled, pulling back slightly.

Jughead swooped back in, kissing you softly once more. “No, I don’t. I hated Archie’s crush on you.”

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed, his breath fanning over your face. “Archie was practically in love with you. You were the perfect couple. Him the golden football player, you the pretty, smiling student. I hated it. I always thought Betty was joking about your crush on me but thankfully she wasn’t. I fell in love with your smile and you were just so perfect that I just knew that I didn’t have a shot with you.“

You smiled. “Jug, I’ve always liked you.”

Jughead beamed. “There’s that smile! And I’m glad, because I hope it means that I get to kiss you and take you out?”

You nodded, smile growing as he leaned in for a third time only pulling away when you heard catcalls coming from your friends.

“Yeah Jughead!” Archie.

“They’re too cute!” B & V.

“OMG I ship it!” Kevin.

“Treat her right Donnie Darko!” Reggie.


Tag List: @blisshbee, @wisestydia14, @cleohalestilinski, @do-somethinglovely, @divastar777, @localagoraphobic, @gabiwella, @loveinfxnitelyx, @kanye—west, @unicornqueen05, @that1chic-xoxo, @melinadufort, @casismyguardianangel, @rxggie-mxntle, @demigodofthesun, @katshrev, @professionalphangirluniverse, @jugheads-lawyer, @cyberfoxlili, @iwannadiehere, @lostinpercyseyes, @millygwiazda, @casual-vaporwave, @pegacorn24, @apocalypticangell, @fandomsrlove, @mcheung0314, @fangites, @isabellaskyliner, @nooneshoney, @itsjaynebird, @fandomsandotherstuff, @xbobaaa, @betty-coopers-number-one-stan, @lost-in-wonderland-x, @bubblegumcat229, @yazminmcd, @thesuitelifeofjughead, @bex09, @day-dreaming-nightmare, @eternal-peril-for-all, @mrs-jughead-jones, @onceuponagladerhead, @tasteofswallowedwords, @siaralovesgaming, @eliza-hamilton-helpless, @murderyoursoul

Hufflepuff

Paring: Tom Holland x reader

Summary: You and Tom are having a Harry Potter marathon.

Words: 1,106

Warnings: Hinting of sexual themes, hinting of kinks (soz, I’m a kinky slut lately ;)

A/N: Just felt like some Tom fluff lately. And since I’m also obsessed with this magical world and I saw what Tom said about Hufflepuff, I decided to write this. It was supposed to be just a really short drabble but I got really carried away while bored in class and wouldn’t stop writing. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it and remember to send in requests! Feedback is always happily accepted :)

Originally posted by starkquinzel

(gif not mine)


You and Tom were having a relaxing weekend in and had decided to have a Harry Potter marathon, your favourite (except for Marvel of course).

You had brought take out, snacks and sweets, drinks, lots and lots of tea and your Harry Potter merch; your oversized hogwarts hoodie, Tom’s deathly hallows t-shirt, both of your wands you got during your trip to Universal and Tessa’s Hedwig plush.

To say you were prepared was an understatement.

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Oikawa Tooru is a lot of things, but not cute
pairing: iwaoi
Read on AO3

Cute, that’s the word the girls breathe behind their hands and giggle when Oikawa flashes them a bright smile and his trademark peace sign. They couldn’t be more wrong, Hajime thinks.
Oikawa Tooru is a lot of things, but he isn’t cute.
Right now he is too flashy and too loud; stopping by a group of girls and blocking the hallway. Hajime pushes him onwards, hand between Oikawa’s shoulderblades, over defined, tense muscles from many strong jump serves and hard work. Oikawa is strong and stubborn, he thinks, not cute.

Boys aren’t cute anyway, right?
Maybe they were when they were little. Back then, after playing in the woods behind their houses, cheeks rosy and hair ruffled. When they ran errands for Hajime’s mom, and the old lady at the small corner shop gave them her best toothless smile. She squeezed their chubby cheeks tight - “what cute boys” - and snuck them both a sweet bonbon into small sweaty hands.  
Oikawa’s laugh had always been the loudest and brightest. Nowadays it often misses its lightheartedness.

The old lady still runs the shop, still holds her head high on small, bent shoulders. Hajime sometimes helps her close the store when he runs home late after practice. The rusty iron grating is too heavy for her to pull alone. She has more wrinkles and less teeth but her smile is the same. She calls him “handsome” now.
They aren’t kids anymore and they aren’t cute anymore.

Puberty had been rough. It pulled from all sides and deformed their growing bodies. Noses too big for still childish faces and legs too long on a wimpy torso. Nothing cute about this. Now at almost eighteen, the worst is over, but they continue to grow. Their voices fall deeper, no longer with sudden breaks; yet still growing into their bodies they have however grown into their proportions.
Oikawa’s legs still unfairly long.

Hajime shoulders his gym bag and adjusts the trainers dangling from his bag strap, trying to keep up with Oikawa’s long strides.
Oikawa always holds himself tall. He is proud, almost lordy at times, Hajime thinks, as he follows him down the school hall.
A good captain for their team.

Oikawa flops at the lunch table, bag tossed aside and legs stretched. He lets go of a long sigh that holds a whiny tune.
“Iwa-chan, do you even listen?”
Hajime looks up, brows deeply furrowed.
“And what’s with this angry scowl all day?” Oikawa leans forward and pokes his index finger lightly between Hajime’s eyes. “It’s irritating! Even more than usual.”
He slaps Oikawa’s hand away, now aware of the tension in his face, and rubs his hand over his eyes to try and get rid of the graveness.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, “of course I did my math homework.” He throws his notebook on the table, now his turn to sigh: “How could I forget, knowing you would annoy me about it all day?”
They always do this, comparing their answers before class to check they’re right.
Oikawa is smart and hardworking; always aims for the best in everything he does, Hajime thinks. He looks over to Oikawa, who nibbles on his pen as he compares their homework.
In the bright, artificial light of the canteen Hajime can see the dark circles under Oikawa’s eyes and he makes a note to make sure Oikawa gets home right after practice. No extra training today. If he has to kick him out of the gym, he swears he will.

Girls are cute, right?
They have big eyes and shiny hair. Like Hitomi from class; big brown eyes, bright with golden flecks. Deep and beautiful.
Hajime remembers those eyes, cause they remind him of Tooru’s.
Cute, he thinks.

Stars -- Fionn Whitehead x Reader

Request:  Omg i loved ur fionn imagine it was so cute. I was hoping you could do one about moving into fionn’s apartment & he knows the reader been “successful” pretty much her whole life so he’s all nervous showing her his little apartment she’ll now be living in with him & he’s like “it’s probably not what your use to.” but she’s all happy & says something like “it’s cute” and drops her bags and just wraps her arms around his waist being giggling and it makes him feel better and ugh just lots of fluff ?

I did my best and I made it short and sweet and I’m sorry if you hate it, anon.x 

Originally posted by moncoeurdcoeurs

“I’m sorry,” Fionn started. “This probably isn’t what you’re used to,” he rubbed his hands together, “but it’s mine– ours, really.”

You smile, dropping your duffel bag to the ground. You glance around the room, taking in the interior – what little it is. You smile grows as you glance at the photos hanging on the wall – a couple of shots of the two of you, some photos of Fionn’s family and some of Fionn with his cast mates.

You take in the mugs sitting in the cupboard, behind the glass cover. You smile at the way the plates are stacked, in an order that doesn’t care for their size. You laugh when you notice that Fionn still has that one chipped mug you told him to get rid of months ago.

But your eyes begin to water when you begin to think about your stuff getting intermingled with Fionn’s – even more than they already are. Now your shoes by the door belong there. Your jacket hanging from the hook doesn’t seem out of place anymore. That one drawer that “belonged” to you, really does belong to you.

“I’m sorry it’s not what you expected,” he said, his voice a bit croaky – as if he’s nervous. You can always tell when he’s nervous. “It’s comfortable – or at least I think it is…”

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About Last Night (Trimberly)

Trini walked into the kitchen. The wood felt cold under her bare feet, but she could smell the bacon and that’s what drew her. 

“Morning,” Kim looked over her shoulder and smiled before turning her attention back to the pan on the stove. 

“Good morning,” Trini replied happily. She walked over to her girlfriend, wearing nothing but a yellow tank top and black boyshorts. “Great morning.” She corrected herself as she wrapped her arms around Kim’s slim waist. 

She wasn’t tall enough to peek over Kim’s shoulder to see the pan, but her nose told her it was full of delicious food. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” Trini killed Kim’s exposed shoulder before pulling away and walking over to take a seat at the table. 

“You mean besides last night?” Kim smirked, taking the rest of the bacon from the pan and placing it carefully on a plate. 

Trini lifted an eyebrow cockily as she watched Kim walk over with two plates of food. Kim had opted for a lacy pink bra and grey sweats. 

“Last night was memorable.” Trini watched as Kim put a full plate of food down in front of her and quickly grabbed a slice of bacon. 

“Did you check to see if we actually broke the bed?” Kim asked, picking up her fork and spearing some eggs. 

“It’s all good, the frame just bent a little.” Trini chewed on the end of her bacon. “But I fixed it.” 

“I don’t know what got into us last night.” Kim chewed, trying to keep the smirk off her face. 

“You have no idea?” Trini teased picking up her own fork and moving her food around as she stared playfully at Kim from across the table. “It couldn’t have been you rubbing my thigh under the table all night. Or you happening to brush against me so I can feel your breasts against my back. It probably had nothing to do with you pushing me against the wall of the elevator and ripping my only good shirt to shreds because you couldn’t wait until we got back to the house.”

Trini saw Kim’s cheeks flush the same pink color as her bra. “You just bring out that side of me.” 

“I can’t say I mind at all. Though my clothing may mind a little.” Trini winked, putting a forkful of eggs in her mouth. 

“If you never wear clothing it would solve both of our problems.” Kim suggested, the strap of her bra just happening to fall at that moment. 

Trini’s eyes flashed over to see the fabric dangling off Kim’s body. “Uh.” Trini’s mouth was still full of food. 

“I’m sure you need a rest after last night.” Kim pushed back her chair and let the other strap of her bra fall off her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll go take a shower.” 

Kim walked out of the room and Trini almost choke from swallowing so fast before she took off after her. The chair she was sitting in almost toppling to the ground. 

“I’ll show you tired!”  

losing a life (to gain another)

Summary: Dan’s a ghost and a bit of a cock block but Phil likes him anyways.

Wordcount: 11,200

Genre: Fluff & Angst

Warnings (spoilers): homophobia, brief mentions of child abuse and neglect, cheating

please don’t repost!! :) 

likes and reblogs are appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

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Dear Journal,

Hey it’s Teddy. Today I took James Sirius on a date to the drive-in movies. I took my dads pick-up truck and filled the trunk with fluffy blankets a pillows. I texted him that I was going to pick him up at 19:00 and that he needed to wear his pyjama’s. I was really excited to see him. I was about to leave when Sirius gave me some money for snacks even though I already had some. I thanked him and he stopped me by taking my arm.

“And hum.. Don’t do anything stupid.. Use protection.” He said.

“Dad c'mon!”

“I’m serious!” He said.

“Yeah, that you are.” I said, laughing.

“Now go have fun! And be carefull while driving!” He said, giving me a side hug.

“I will. I’ll be back during the night. Bye!” I said, the keys in my hands.

I drove to James Sirius’ house and there he was, waiting on the steps. He ran to the car and took place in the passenger seat.

“Hey.” He said, giving me a kiss on the lips.

“Hey. You look cute in your pyjamas.” I said, making him chuckle.

After a few minutes of driving, we arrived at the drive-in and I parked the car on the grass.

“Hum.. How are we going to watch the movie if we’re facing the wrong way?” James Sirius asked, confused.

“Because we’re going to watch it from the trunk!” I said, smirking.

We got out of the car and jumped into the blanket filled trunk. James Sirius couldn’t stop smiling.

“This is great!” He said.

“The movie hasn’t even started yet!” I laughed.

“I don’t care! The fact that we’re cuddled in a pool of blankets and pillows in your dads pick-up trunk is pretty great!” He laughed too.

“Said like that it looks a bit boring!” I said.

“No babe.. I love it! And you help me stay warm so it’s even better.” He smiled, kissing down my neck.

When the sun was down, the movie started. All through the movie, i brushed my hand on James Sirius’ chest. I could feel his muscles on the tip of my fingers. Sometimes I felt him shiver from the cold and the touch and I would wrap my arms tighter around him. I tried to concentrate on the movie but all I could do was look at James. His eyes were glowing in the darkness. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth. He jumped because he got scared and hid his face into my neck. The movie wasn’t even scary but it still made him jump. He took my hand and i left a kiss on his knuckles. We continued watching the movie with our buttery popcorn on our lap, warming eachother up.

When the movie ended, we both got back into the car and drove back home. He was staying over for the night. We put on some music and sang along! When we arrived home, he took my hand and a few blankets, smiling.

“What are you doing?” I asked, wondering what in Merlin’s name he was doing.

“Now it’s my turn to suprise you!” He giggled, walking to my backyard.

“What are you planning?” I giggled.

“You’ll see!” He said, walking to our childhood three house.

He climbed up into the three house and layed the blankets on the wood. I climbed up behind him and layed next to him in the blankets. Little floating canddles were charmed to romanticaly light the three house. His cheeks were flushed and he was smiling.

“You want us to sleep here? Like a camping night?” I asked.

He bit his lip and sat down.

“Actually.. I hum.. I thought we could.. Well you know.. do it.” He said, looking down at his hands.

“Are you sure?” I said, putting my hand on his cheek so he would look at me.

“Yeah. I’m ready. Mum always told me to wait for the right person.. and I know that you are the one. I want you Teddy.” He said, his lips close to mine.

“But I don’t want you to feel pressured..” I whispered my lips touching his soflty.

“I’m not. I really want this Ted..” he said, pressing his lips on mine.

We kissed slowly and sensualy. My hands went under his shirt and to his waist. He breathed against my my lips as we undressed. The soft blankets on our bare skins. Hands roaming eachothers bodies.

“Ted I love you.” He breathed.

“I love you too. Are you okay with this?” I asked one last time.

He nodded and smiled, kissing me once again. I held myself over him and kissed down his soft neck. A soft noise left his lips and he smiled through the kiss.

We were laying next to eachother, cuddled under a soft blanket. James was laying on my chest his hands drawing random shapes on the side of my stomach. My fingers were brushing through his messy hair as I smiled.

“Merlin.. I know why peolpe love having sex now!” He said, laughing.

“You’re so adorable!” I laughed.

“I love you Edward Regulus Lupin.” He said, kissing my lips.

“I love you too, James Sirius Potter.” I said.

He hugged me closer and I layed the blanket on his shoulder as the warm wind hit our faces. What a night. What a beautiful night.

-Teddy
June 16th 2014

step one: start vaguely headcanonning helen of sparta/troy as not attracted to men

step two: get really, really invested in helen not being attracted to men

step three: be sad forever because she never wanted any of this, any of them, and paris was just the next man who wanted to have her, before him is was menelaus and before him were all the damned danaan kings and before them was theseus and she has never been free from men and she’s never loved any of them, the only men she loved were her brothers- castor and pollux, and then later hector, but all men want her and so all men will have her, because there’s no place in this world for a woman who doesn’t want men, especially one as beautiful as her and she curses her face more than any long suffering soldier does because it’s condemned her to be stolen and taken for as long as she’s young and lovely and it makes all the women she’d want to be sisters to (or closer than sisters) hate her in jealousy or for their dead husbands and sons and- she didn’t want this. she didn’t want this war, she didn’t want the suitors, she didn’t want her divine blood and fair cheeks, but that’s what she got and she’ll never be free or safe or in love for as long as she lives because that’s the game the gods want to play