not sure if it turned out good or not

I was going to do a bunch of these but i ended up just doing one.

But anyways, i thought it would be fun to try and mix my drawing style with some other artists. I have no idea if ill do more of these in the future but for now i just tried this out with @redtomatofans style because i love them and i need to stop putting other drawings off.

spoopysalt  asked:

Heyyy, I am a HUGE fan of your work (like ur writing is part of what got me SO sucked into stony) and I'm writing what is looking to be a VERY lengthy fic and was wondering if you could give me some advice for keeping characters ic? I really wanna do a good job on this your writing is just so amazing

Hey! First of all, thank you! It’s lovely to know that you put my work at a high enough standard to come to me for help lmao.

As for your question, though, I’m particularly sure I can offer much help? I don’t tend to actively take steps to keep good characterisation- and if what you’re writing is, say, an AU, then sometimes your characters are gonna have slightly different personalities anyway? I know people have this Super Uptight approach on good characterisation, but I mean- I read mafia au’s where Steve will be a mob boss and shoot people every day. It’s not exactly ‘good characterisation’ of Steve, ‘cause we know he’d never do that stuff, but it sure is a damn good fic. Sometimes character continuity isn’t everything!

That being said- obviously, in some instances characterisation that’s accurate is important. I think a big part of it is having a good understanding of the character you’re writing for. Honestly, that’s mostly the only thing I can give you. Being able to know the character you’re writing for inside out is hugely important. Think of them doing something/ saying something in your head. Does it sound right coming from them? Or does it feel too vulnerable/ too macho/ too passive etc.

If you don’t have that, then I could suggest doing some research first. Meta. Character analysis. That sort of thing. Get their basics down, and then you can pretty much work with the rest. I think at the end of the day it’s not really about specific words or actions your character does, but their consistent traits throughout. If readers get the General Vibe that the character is /too much of ‘X’/ through the whole thing, then it will be worse than just a few sentences. You need to make sure your characters stick to their moral code and base features more than anything. Sarcasm, emotional constipation, abandonment issues etc. You can just add those comments or observations into the fic if you forget to put them in in the beginning, because they’re pretty easy to insert, and it’ll bring the whole thing together a little better.

Hope that helped!

Something Always Survives: Chapter Twelve

He had another nightmare that night, and it was about Clarke. He jerked up, his breathing labored as he made sense of his surroundings.

“You’re okay,” he heard Clarke whisper, and he turned his head to see Clarke sitting herself up, rubbing her eyes. “What was it about?” she asked, her hand now rubbing his back.

He blinked a few times, not sure he could even say it out loud… not to her.

“Just hold me,” he pleaded, as he buried his face into her chest. He could feel Clarke’s fingers combing through his hair, while her other hand rubbed his back tenderly.

“Everything is okay,” Clarke whispered, before kissing the top of his head. He heaved into her shirt, his hand resting on her waist. “You’re safe. I’m safe. It was just a bad dream,” she whispered, and he shook his head against her chest. It wasn’t just a bad dream… it was a very real possibility, and it scared the hell out of him.

She held him like this for a long time, whispering little encouragements into his ear, as he fell apart on her.

“I have dreams like that too,” Clarke finally confessed, and Bellamy tilted his head up to look at her. She was crying too. “In my dreams, I’ve lost you in a million different, painful ways.”

“Clarke,” he whispered, pushing himself up so he could get closer to her. He cupped her face in his hands, using his thumbs to push away her tears.

“And then, I’d wake up. It used to be that I would hear you breathing in your cell, and I’d let that soothe me back to sleep. Then, I actually got to see you fast asleep next to me, and I watched you as long as it took for me to feel better. And now, I get to hold onto you,” she whispered, and Bellamy pressed a slow kiss to her lips. Her hands found the back of his neck, pulling him toward her. His body shuddered as she parted her lips, letting him in.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke finally whispered against his lips, her eyes still shut. Then, they fluttered open, gazing back at Bellamy with so much love that he thought he was going to melt into her. “If something bad happens, we will both find a way to be okay. You survived three years of hell, and you’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.” Bellamy opened his mouth to argue, but her eyes were practically daring him to defy those words. “And, I’ve outsmarted Cage twice now. I’m a hell of a shot and smarter than people give me credit for. We will be fine.”

“I’m still going to worry,” he replied, his thumb absently stroking her cheek.

“I know. But, we protect each other. And, we have our weird little prison family to help us stay safe,” she joked, as Bellamy pressed his forehead against hers, chuckling slightly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, already feeling himself start to calm down. She smirked at him, before pressing a peck to his lips. But, before she could pull away, Bellamy crashed his lips into hers. She smiled against his lips, making this one of their messier kisses… but, Bellamy didn’t care. His princess was happy, and that was all that mattered to him in this moment.

His hand started combing through her hair, before resting gently on the back of her head. He felt her hand on his neck, her thumb tracing the lower side of his jaw… and all Bellamy could think about was how much he wants her.

He tried to slow down, but Clarke clung harder to him, her kisses becoming more hungry and desperate. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him as his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She moaned into his mouth, as her fingers brushed through his curls. He whimpered slightly at the sensation, and Clarke started kissing across his jawline.

“Clarke,” he whispered, as she started sucking just below his jaw. “Fuck,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut at the contact. “We should—”

Then, Clarke’s head popped up, eyebrow raised at him. He tried to stutter out the rest of his sentence, to remind her that they should probably slow things down.

“Bell, do you not want me?” she asked, her voice pleading with him as his chest started to ache.

“Fuck, no. God, I want you so much,” he reassured, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “So, so much.”

“Then, what is it?” she whispered, her eyes wide with confusion. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, pushing it behind her ear.

“I’m scared,” he confessed, before swallowing. “I’ve never been with someone I loved before. And, I just want this to be perfect for you.”


Something Always Survives

i commissioned this piece from the kind and talented @mesknoxx as a companion to chapter four of my fluffy season three fix it fic – we don’t talk very much (we just fake being nice) – in which clarke and lexa attend an azgeda coronation ball. this is the artist’s rendering of the dresses they wore.

  • Anakin, desperately trying to hide the wedding photos falling out of his pockets: what, no, Senator Amidala and I are just friends-
  • Obi-wan, pretending to do paperwork but actually writing love letters to Satine: be mindful of your feelings, Anakin-
  • Plo Koon, filling out adoption forms for Ahsoka and the entire Wolfpack: you get attached too easily-
  • Yoda:
  • Yoda: end well, this will not

okay but how funny would it be if, after all this build up, Sam is the one to use the grenade launcher

 some lance-centric headcanons:


• absolutely cannot hold someones hand without swinging it

• he loves watching marine animal documentaries and after seeing Black Fish he swore to never go back to Seaworld ever again

[talking to himself in front of the mirror]:

“Sometimes, I’m astounded by my sheer brilliance.”

• whenever he eats m&ms or smarties, he always has to pick out the blue ones and eat them first. always


•  [is in trouble and gets sent down to Iverson’s office]:

lance: long time no see, buddy!

Iverson: cadet, please, i have a headache —

lance: HOW ARE THE WIFE AND KIDS?

iverson [groaning]: you like tormenting me


• on one of the days it’s lance’s turn to order takeout in the family, he just goes full-out and orders a shitload of stuff:

lance: i’m thinking, like, two boxes of pizza, some chinese, a side dish of garlic knots —

one of his sisters: you sure? you’ve been looking a bit round lately lil’ bro

lance [scoffing indignantly]: more cushion for the pushin’, big sis! the dad bod is in


because he’s a good uncle™ his list of swear words include:

- hairy monkey balls!

- dogshit on a stick!

- PUKE pancakes!

• he and hunk once decided to microwave a shoe for ‘scientific purposes’

• he was that kid that jammed, like, three plastic water bottles in the back tire of his bike to make those cringey dirt bike noises whenever he rode it

• he. can’t. sit still through a movie. he has to pause occasionally and get up to stretch or get a snack or aimlessly scroll on his phone or stare blankly at the ceiling, thinking about all the homework he’s going to have to do at 3 AM

The Virgin and The Sex God: Chapter One- Dean x Reader

The Virgin and The Sex God: Chapter One
Summary: Dean finds out you’re a virgin and begins to try to charm his way into your pants. Little does he know he’s about to fall in love.
Word Count: 2,227
Warnings: Potty mouth Dean.  Potty Mouth Reader.


SERIES MASTERLIST


I’m so addicted to all the things you do
When you’re rollin’ round with me in between the sheets
Oh the sounds you make, with every breath you take
It’s unlike anything, when you’re lovin’ me… 
From Addicted by Saving Abel


You made a noise through your nose and rolled your eyes hard as you watched Dean Winchester making a move a boozed up bimbo.  The both of you had  agreed to get some celebratory drinks together after a successful hunt.  You had meet the Winchester brothers a few years ago and had occasionally hunted with them.  Personally you were more of a solo hunter, but you made a few exceptions every now and then.  

The Winchesters you had considered friends and you liked spending time with them.  You groaned when the blonde woman giggled as Dean whispered something in her ear.  The tightening in your stomach made you want to hurl your bottle at the pair.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of the woman- you knew what would come of her night.  The walk of shame at six in the morning.  You were jealous and angry of the idea that Dean would rather chat up a chick then spend time with his friend.  You hadn’t seen him in over a year and this was how he was choosing to spend his time?  Taking a chug of your beer, you climbed to your feet and stomped over to him.  

Putting on your best dramatic face,with a few fake tears to boot, you began to yell at him for being an unfaithful bastard.   Dean’s eyes lite up and his face flushed.  The blonde looked on horrified as you proceeded to punch him in the arm.

“You bastard!  A sick baby and wife at home!  And this is where I find you!  Cuddled up with some floozy?”  You screeched as you gave him another whack for good measure.  

“Wife?  This is your wife?”  The blonde managed to squeak out as she backed away from the two crazy people.  She held up her hands as she did.

“What?  No.  I’m not married.  She’s just my good friend.”  Dean managed to get out before you whacked his arm again.

“Really? REALLY?!  Ten years of marriage and a baby!!  And I’m just your “good friend”?!” You wailed.


The blonde woman had enough at this point and ran the opposite direction from the pair of loons.  Dean watched after her and turned to scowl at you.  You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a hefty smirk.

“God Damn it, Y/N!  That was a sure thing!”  He barked as his scowl deepen.  Your hands snapped to your hips as you leaned forward towards him.  You matched his scowl perfectly before answering him.


“Serves you right for trying to abandon your friend for some one-night stand!”  You hissed back as you pegged him the shoulder again.  Dean grunted and reached up to rub the sore spot.  You watched as his features soften as he thought about your words.  His hand came out to rest on your shoulder and he gave it a squeeze.

“Yeah.  I’m sorry sweetheart.  I wasn’t thinking.”  He sighed.


“Oh you were thinking alright….  Just not with the right head.” You said in a matter of fact tone.  You gestured to his crotch for emphasis and Dean’s eyes flicker downward.  You chuckled when his head snapped back up.  He made a face and reached up to rub his neck.  It looked like he wanted to make a come back  but nothing was coming out.  


“Yeah… Whatever…”  He finally managed to get out and you were giggling again.  Dean squinted his eyes at you and an unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes for a moment.  You smiled at him and reached out to tug on his arm.

“Come on Winchester, you can make it up to me by buying me a drink or ten.”  

“Yeah. Yeah.”  He muttered as he started back towards the bar.  You followed behind him giggling louder this time.


Dean sank down on a bar stool and motioned for the bar tender.  You plopped down beside him and ordered a beer.  He turned to you and as you brought the mouth of the bottle to your lips.  As the bitter liquid passed down your throat, Dean’s eyes flashed with a dangerous thought.

“You know…  You could always make up losing my booty call for me by going back to my room.”  He said in a low grumble.  His hand reaching over to touch your thigh.  Your eyes widen as that damn tongue of his dragged itself across his bottom lip.  

You made a choking noise as your beer went down the wrong pipe.  Sputtering, you placed your drink on the bar top and grunted when Dean’s hand smacked you across the back.  His dark chuckle caused your eyes to darken.  Inhaling deeply, you turned to snarl at him.

“Public sexual harassment isn’t cute, Winchester.”  You said in hoarse voice.  Dean’s chuckled grew louder at your words and you rolled your eyes.  


“What?  Don’t want a chance to sleep with a bona fide sex god?” He said with a smirk so big you just wanted to snatch it off of him.   This time your eyes rolled all the way into the back of your head.

“Oh shut up, Winchester.  If I wanted an STD, I’d go to my local alleyway.”  You grunted into your beer.    Dean gave you a hard stare before pressing the issue.


“I’m being serious, Y/N.  I’ve always thought that you were pretty.  Why not give it a try?  Ummmm.  I’ll make it worth your while.”  He said with a sincere look in his eyes.  

You blanched at his words and shifted uncomfortably in your seat.  Your eyes glazed over as a thousand and one thoughts ran through your head.  You were certainly flattered that Dean thought your were pretty.  

You hadn’t really heard him describe many woman as pretty.  You bite your lip as something unfamiliar bubbled in your stomach.  You hadn’t really thought of Dean in that way much.  Though weren’t blind and you knew he was unmistakably gorgeous.  There;however; were two reason that this wouldn’t go over well.


One- you were and wanted to continue to be good friends with the Winchesters.  You liked them and most of all you trusted them.  A rarity for you.   Second and most pronouncing- you were still a virgin.  What the hell would you have to offer a man, who by all accounts, was a sex god?

“Yeah…  No thanks.  Dean.  I’m good.”  You mumbled into your beer.  Your eyes adverted to the other side of the bar when he pressed closer to you.  Leaning over, Dean whispered in your ear.

“Haven’t you even thought of me before?  I know I sure as hell have thought of you. Ever since that first hunt when you took out those three vamps all by your pretty little self.”  He whispered hotly against your ear.  You shuttered and nearly swallowed your tongue.  This was quickly getting out of hand and not how you had pictured the night going.  You never, in a million years, would have thought Dean would think of you in that way.  Hell’s bells, you weren’t even sure you thought of him in that way.  

Dean’s hand had now settled at the top of your thigh.  He lightly ghosted over your clothed inner thigh and you had to suppress a moan.  Your head began to feel swimmy as you subconsciously pressed yourself closer to him.  A warm feeling spread from your stomach and down your thighs.  Ok, so maybe you did think of him in that way.  That still didn’t mean that you wanted to give it up to Dean Winchester- Mr. Womanizer himself.  You flinched away from his touch and slid off the bar stool.  Dean looked at you with a dark smirk on his lips.

“Suddenly so shy?  What happen to that girl that was demanding my attention earlier?”  He mused as he stood up and moved towards you.  You gulped audibly when you found yourself pinned between him and the bar.    Your hands went up and pressed themselves into his chest so that you could give yourself some room.  

The scent of Dean filled your senses and his warm hard  body pressed against yours in a way you had never experienced.  Your whole body flushed as you tried to squirm away from him.  You you could feel your heart skip a literal beat when you felt something hard pressed into your thigh.  You squeaked when you realized that Dean was indeed very happy to see you.


“Deeannnn…..”  You whined as you felt yourself becoming overheated.  You shifted and squirmed underneath him.  The sudden clearing of a throat brought you both back to your senses.  Your head snapped to the side to find the old man bartender looking at the pair of you in disgruntlement.    


“Take it outside you two.” He grunted in a low raspy voice.  You blanched when you realized that the whole room was staring right at you.   There was a groan of disappointment from a few of the patrons when Dean stepped away from you.  Your face turned tomato red as your hands flew up to your face.  You were going to kill him.  

You heard Dean mumble something about, too damn cute, before he grabbed one of your hands.  He was nearly dragging you through the bar door before he stopped just outside.  His hand dug into his pockets for his keys and you had to look away.  There was still a noticeable bulge in his pants.

Once the keys were in his hand, he proceeded to continue to drag you all the way to Baby.  You were squealing again when his hand were suddenly digging into your hips and his weight shifting you into the side of the car.  Your hand came up automatically to cover his mouth when you saw him bend down to kiss you.  You shook your head wildly as he pulled away to look at you in bewilderment.  He began to protest your lack of kissing but your voice ringing out cut him short.

“I’M A VIRGIN!”  You squeaked out a few octaves higher than your natural voice. Dean’s eyes flew open at this revelation and you heard him say something.  It muffled against the palm of your hand and you pulled away so that he could speak to you.  

“What did you say?…”  You asked shyly.  

Your face was going to be permanently pink by the time this man got done with you.  The biggest secret you had in your life had just been revealed to him and the six other drunks in the parking lot.  You were mortified, turned on, and confused.  

“I said, God damn.  Just god damn.”  He said with groan.  His eyes looked like they had the devil himself dancing in them.  You giggled nervously as you flatten yourself against Baby.

“So… Uhhh… Can you back down some….  I…  uhhh..  You’re making me nervous.”  Shuttered out as your hands once again went to his chest.  His very firm chest.

Dean’s smirk was never bigger with those words as he pulled back from you.  You let out a shaking sigh of relief and turned on your heels to put some distance between the two of you.  You tried to ignore the discomfort that throbbed painfully between your legs.  

Sometime later, you both sat in an uncomfortable silence as you drove back to the motel.  Or at least for you it was.   Dean was still smirking away and would chuckle every time he glanced your way.  Finally,  after the fourth time his chuckles began to get on your nerves.

“What?”  You growled at him as your eyes threw daggers his way.  

“Nothing….   It’s just I was wondering….  How did you make it to 28 and still manage to stay a virgin?”  He said with a another chuckle.    Your stare darken immediately.  Was the asshole making fun of you?  You swore that if he hadn’t been driving you would clock him in the jaw.

“Well not all of can be sluts Winchester.  Or in your case a manwhore.”  You jeered at him.

“Ouch…  That one hurt.”  He said with feigned hurt in his voice.  “What I meant to say, even though I came off like a complete asshole is…  How can someone as sweet, pretty, and caring as you still be a virgin?”  He ask with the hint of an apology in his voice.  

“Hoho, Flattery eh?  Don’t think that’s gonna get you in my pants.”  You said with a snort.

“Almost worked earlier.”  He quipped.  You rolled your eyes dramatically for the third time that night.

“Shut up.  It did not.”  You grumbled as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.  You frown and huffed at him.  He was chuckling again before you could blink.

“See, it’s that shit right there.  How the hell has someone as cute as you not had a roll in the sheets?”  He asked with a shake of his head.  “What a waste…”  


His eyes scanned your body and you felt yourself stiffen.  Was he ogling you?  Your eyebrow twitched a bit.

“I just never found a guy that I liked.  At least not enough to go there….”  You murmured lowly.  

“Do you like me enough?”  He asked in a husky whisper.  His voice was even lower than it was naturally.  A shiver ran through you and shook from the force of it.  

The man was trying to kill you.


AN: So this is a smut series.  Starting in the first few chapters. Not for kiddies. ;)  Please know that I am going to be updating my other Dean series soon.  Please forgive me for starting yet another story.  LOL.  Happy friday y’all!

You can read all my work at my MASTERLIST.

Much Love,
Kristina 

Dean tag List:  @imgoldielikehawn @lizwinchester16 @msimpala67 @deansgirl215 @mashed-fandom-imagines @itsdawnashlie  @iam-a-cutiepie@titty-teetee@supernaturalmagicfolk@jadepc@ihavesympathyforthedevil@blackcherrywhiskey​ @michelletvaddict @pureawesomeness001@pickupthatamulet@impala468@maddieburcham1@essie1876@also-known-as-me@epickimmie@nataliehasgrace@essie1876@titty-teetee@jokerspuddincup@the-gummy-bear-things@c-r-a-z-y-f-a-n-g-i-r-l​  @akshi8278@madsterrrrr-24@keepcalmandbeajunkie@thelastxgoodthing​  @spn-ficfanatic@msimpala67 @deansgirl215

If you want to be added to the list please send me an ask.  Sometimes tumblr is a cunt and eats my notes.  I might not see your comment.  :)

Dusk to Dawn | 1 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader 

genre: soulmate!AU angst, fluff, smut

warnings: swearing, smut, use of alcohol, smoking, lowkey going to be heartbreaking

word count: 11.6K

summary: You meet Jungkook in psychology class who acts like he has it all figured out, however as you two get closer you realize you are more alike than you two originally thought. Unfortunately for the two of you, fate has another plan in mind which will test yours and Jungkook’s relationship in more ways than one. 

part 1 of 2 

Originally posted by jeonyween


Fall Semester 

August 

The first day of the new fall semester has been nothing less of eventful. Not only did you sleep past your alarm by more than thirty minutes, not only did you not get a cup of coffee in you this morning, not only did you realize that you had forgotten your psychology textbook back at your apartment until you got to class, and not only were you ten minutes late to class, you somehow were able to calm yourself down enough to where you did not cause a commotion once you entered the lecture hall.

Once you sat down, places towards the back mainly open, you opened your laptop trying to blend in with everyone like you had not just missed the first ten minutes of class. You focused in on what your professor was saying, trying to ignore the fact that you had also forgotten to brush your teeth as well.

“In my class, we will learn about all sorts of things,” the professor states, “From children, to sociopaths, the human mind, to medicine, to love… and sex,” he pauses for a moment, a smirk on his face, “and yes, we will be talking about soulmates, too for those wondering, although many of you may already know where I’m at with this,” he continues.

Your face suddenly drops. Soulmate. You have heard the term all of your life and as you have gotten older, the more you try to ignore it.

Your older sister soulmate’s name carved into her left wrist at the tender age of fourteen and found the guy when she was seventeen. Your best friend soulmate’s named etched its name onto his left wrist when he was eighteen. The special thing about your soulmate’s mark, is that their name is written in their handwriting. A sacred thing that you have yet to experience. Everyone you knew, had received a name by the time they were eighteen… except you.

You were now 21, going on 22 and a name still has yet to be marked on you. You’ve heard stories of people never finding their soulmate and dying alone and depressed. Not only that, but you have also heard of the physical pain that comes along when never finding a soulmate.

Thankfully you have never experienced any physical pain yet, which gives you hope that the name is still yet to come.

“Excuse me,” a voice, a whisper, knocks you out of your thoughts. You glance over to see a boy with light brown hair and big doe brown eyes staring at you. “I think you dropped this,” there in front of you, the mysterious boy holds up a pencil that must have slipped out of your hand while you were in thought.

“Oh, thanks,” you say in a whisper, snatching it back from the boy giving him one last look before turning your attention back on the professor.

You internally groan to yourself and you can tell this is already going to be a long year.

Keep reading

Clumsy

Summary: Peter Parker may be a superhero but he’s still the clumsiest boy in the world. 

AN: y’all can’t tell me that peter isn’t clumsy af. you can’t

Peter Parker x Reader 

// Masterlist //


Originally posted by mrsjacewayland

Peter Parker nodded as his friend Ned prattled on about what happened in Chemistry class. A class Peter had to miss because of his crime fighting duties. Truth was, Peter couldn’t care less about Chemistry. He was too busy staring at the laughing girl from across their table. Her head was thrown back and her silvery laugh filled his ears. Y/N’s face lit up in a way that made Peter’s heart fall even more for her. The boy sighed and rested his head on his fist.

“You know you could just talk to her instead of staring at her like a creeper.” Ned stated.

“I-I wasn’t staring, Ned.” Peter defended himself.

“Sure you weren’t, buddy.” Ned chuckled. Peter rolled his eyes.

“If I was, and I’m not saying I was, can you blame me? She’s perfect.” Peter said, dreamily.

“Which is why you should talk to her.” Ned forced.

“With her friends, who hate me by the way, around her? I don’t think so.”

Keep reading

2

DIAVOLOS NEVRAKIS → The Crown and The Flame
Men of Choices Aesthetics [#12]

“I’m grateful for those few years before mother died, when you were a real father to me. . . I’m grateful that your neglect and cruelty pushed me to become the formidable warrior I am today. But mostly. . . I’m grateful that I’m the one who will be your undoing.”

[for @violetflipflops]

anonymous asked:

"bro, she gave me head in the car over here" "no way dude" "hell yeh". It doesn't have to include the smut if you don't want but just like a convo between Shawn and friends about how good she treats him and vise versa and he's all gloating and blushing (so excited for this blurb night btw omg) x

a/n: lil nsfw 


You blow a bubble out of the mint bubble gum you’d popped into your mouth upon getting out of the car, and then another one at the front door just for good measure. 

Shawn had watched you do so with a smug grin on his face, skin glowing in a natural highlight - cheeks blushed a deep red from the events earlier. 

Keep reading

ABC’s (Bill Skarsgård)

This is a nsfw collection.

A=Aftercare

There will be a comfortable silence. He’ll pull you into his arms and stroke your hair idly until you fall asleep on his chest, utterly exhausted.

B=Body Part

Breasts. He loves to caress, kiss and suck them. The sight of you standing exposed before him gets him hard every time, along with the feeling of them pressed against his chest.

C=Cum

It depends on the situation. If he was taking you roughly, he would make sure you came first. If not, it’s pretty equal.

D=Dirty Secret

Unbeknownst to everyone else, Bill loves to have you in public or places where you have a chance of getting caught. He’ll slyly run his large hand up your thigh, slip it underneath your dress and tease you during family dinners. Additionally, he loves to take you in his old bedroom at the Skarsgård family home, clamping a hand over your mouth to keep you quite when Alexander is sleeping in the next room.

E= Experience

This man knows how to pleasure a woman. Period.

F= Favorite Position

Lotus. He loves having your legs draped around his hips as you straddle his lap and the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest as you sink down onto him.

G= Goofy

There is never many laughs in the bedroom; only when he looks down at your sleeping form, smirking that he was the one who had exhausted you.

H= Hair

His hand grips the back of your head, using your hair to pull your head back so he can have better access to your neck and throat. He however, loves when you tug his hair, especially when he’s going down on you.

I=Intimacy

Bill is a very passionate, romantic man. He will put your pleasure above his own, whisper sweet nothing into your ear and kiss your whole body until it trembles.

J=Jack Off

Often, Bill is off shooting a film, so you both have to be fairly imaginative in ways to be intimate while away from each other. Most of the time, you Skype or FaceTime, making sure to wear the lingerie he buys for you. He gets off when you touch yourself and slowly peel off your clothes, wishing nothing more than to be with you in person.

K=Kink

He loves to utter Swedish praises into your ear about how beautiful you are and how good you feel around him, a smirk forming on his face when you breathlessly moan words back to him after learning what they meant after months of sex.

L=Location

Your everyday morning shower almost always turns into sex, whether that be taking you against the opaque glass, picking you up or going down on you; one of your legs slung over his shoulder.

M=Motivation

Your pleasure. Whenever he takes you more roughly or tries BDSM with you, he always looks into your eyes to make sure you’re alright.

N=No

If that word ever came out of your mouth, he would stop/pull out instantly, never wanting to hurt or make you uncomfortable.

O=Oral

You over him. This man will go down on you with no questions asked.

P=Pace

He will go from slow and sensual to rough and earth shattering per your request, especially when you beg for it. He is an exceptionally skilled lover.

Q=Quickie

Quickies aren’t his favourite, but if you happen to surprise him on set, he’ll take you into his trailer and have his way with you.

R=Risk

He’s game for almost anything as long as you’re up for it. You’ll have to be the one to suggest new ideas though because he never wants you to feel pressured into doing anything.

S=Stamina

Bill is one tall man, you can expect him to last for awhile. More than likely, he’ll be the one to tire you out.

T=Toy

He’ll keep it simple with a vibrator. The sight of you straddling his lap, vibrator inside you, while you writhe against him, drives him crazy.

U=Unfair

He will tease you, fingering you dreadfully slow until you beg him to fuck you harder.

V=Volume

Depends on the situation. Normally, he keeps quiet so he can listen to your breathless moans as he pleasures you. But on the occasion where he fucks you on the billiard table, he’s loud as he claws at your body.

W= Wild Card

Bill is not the jealous type, but when he sees another man looking at you too closely or touching you, he loses it, taking your hand and dragging you out of the room.

X=X-Ray

He’s 6'3, has large hands, long everything… what do you think?

Y=Yearning

This man will always desire you. No matter what you’re wearing, where you are or who you’re with, he will think you are the most beautiful person on the planet. He will be loyal, never sleeping with another woman, because she could not even begin to fill your place.

Z=Zzz…

He will always pass out after you, with your body wrapped in his long arms.

FAMILY     REFERENCES    /     SENTENCE    STARTERS  .

i    :     in reference to siblings .

  • ❝ i’m not here to see you. i’m here to see your brother/sister. ❞
  • ❝ so, how many siblings did you say you had again? ❞
  • ❝ sometimes i wish i had a sibling or two. ❞
  • ​❝ where ever my brother/sister goes, i go. from now on. ❞
  • ❝ i have a long lost sibling out there somewhere. ❞
  • ❝ you are like my brother/sister. ❞
  • ​❝ you are brother/sister to me. ❞
  • ​❝ you are the brother/sister i never had. ❞
  • ​❝ no offense but, your brother/sister scares me. ❞
  • ​❝ if you brother/sister knew about us … come on. ❞
  • ​❝ me and my siblings don’t get along that well.  ❞
  • ​❝ i never knew you had a brother/sister. why didn’t you tell me? ❞
  • ​❝ i always wondered what it would be like to have a twin. ❞
  • ​❝ for a twin, you all look nothing a like. ❞
  • ​❝ i have a twin brother/sister somewhere out there. ❞
  • ​❝ my brother/sister and i don’t get along anymore. ❞
  • ​❝ hey, we should invite your brother/sister to come with us. ❞
  • ❝ me and your brother/sister, we might .. kind of … like each other. ❞ 
  • ​❝ my brother/sister would have liked you. ❞
  • ​❝ you remind me of my brother/sister. ❞
  • ​❝ sometimes i just think about what my brother/sister might do. ❞
  • ​❝ me and my siblings go everywhere together, what did you expect?  ❞
  • ​❝ my brothers/sisters are always into trouble but not me. ❞
  • ​❝ i’m the only good sibling between me and my siblings.. ❞

ii    :     in reference to parents .

  • ❝ so, your parents turned out to not be your actual parents.. ❞
  • ❝ i didn’t realize we were at that point in our relation/friendship to meet parents. ❞
  • ❝ i thought you might of wanted to meet my parents. ❞
  • ​❝ no offense but your mom(s)/dad(s) scare me. ❞
  • ❝ i’m not sure that your parents like me very much. ❞
  • ❝ wait, you want me to meet your parents? ❞
  • ​❝ my parents are going to freak out if they find out. ❞
  • ​❝ are you insane? my parents will kill me, bring me back, then kill me again! ❞
  • ​❝ my mom(s)/dad(s) are fighting again.. ❞
  • ​❝ your parents give me hope that love does last. ❞
  • ​❝ i don’t even get along with my own parents, let alone yours!  ❞
  • ​❝ i think we should definitely call our parents. ❞
  • ​❝ my mom(s)/dad(s) will know what to do, trust me. ❞
  • ​❝ wait, you want me to lie to my parents? ❞
  • ​❝ my parents took my phone, so i couldn’t text or anything. ❞
  • ​❝ i can’t go, my parents want me to either stay in or go with them somewhere. ❞
  • ​❝ my mom(s)/dad(s) called yours and so, that’s how i know. ❞
  • ❝ wait, my mom(s)/dad(s) called you? why? ❞
  • ​❝ my parents are grounding me, i’m not sneaking out anymore. ❞
  • ​❝ okay, just let me go ask my mom(s)/dad(s). ❞
  • ​❝ i asked my mom(s)/dad(s), she/he/they said no. ❞
  • ​❝ what your parents don’t know won’t hurt them, right?  ❞
  • ​❝ hey, i think your mom(s)/dad(s) are starting to like me finally. ❞
  • ​❝ so, you just found out that you were actually adopted? ❞

iii    :     in reference to children .

  • ❝ cute kid, is he/she yours? ❞
  • ❝ do you have any kids? ❞
  • ❝ wouldn’t you like to have kids some day? ❞
  • ​❝ how many kids would you want to have in the future? ❞
  • ❝ do you ever think of having kids with me? ❞
  • ❝ i have a kid, things are different now. ❞
  • ​❝ i’d rather hang out with my kid than hang out with you. ❞
  • ​❝ you can walk with me to pick my son/daughter up from school if you want. ❞
  • ​❝ i don’t think i’m really ready to have anymore kids, what about you? ❞
  • ​❝ so, you have kids? how many? ❞
  • ​❝ i’ve raised enough kids to know better than that. ❞
  • ​❝ hey, she’s/he’s just a kid, leave she/he alone. ❞
  • ​❝ you’re really good with kids. ❞
  • ​❝ wow, i’ve never seen anyone so good with kids before. ❞
  • ​❝ i’m really good with kids considering i have one of my own. ❞
  • ​❝ sometimes i think i should just have more kids. ❞
  • ​❝ i’m good at a lot except for being a parent, it seems. ❞
  • ❝ i’ve seen you with your kid, you’re doing a fine job. ❞
  • ​❝ the hardest thing to do is to raise my son/daughter. ❞
  • ​❝ you worry too much, i’m sure you’re daughter/son will be fine. ❞
  • ​❝ i met your daughter/son, he/she seems wonderful, sweet almost. ❞
  • ​❝ i like the idea of having kids more i think.  ❞
  • ​❝ it’s natural as a parent to worry for their child, relax. ❞
  • ​❝ my child drives me crazy but i love him/her and wouldn’t have it any other way. ❞

iv    :     in reference to all the above .

  • ❝ i’m leaving town, going to stay with some of my family. ❞
  • ❝ today is the day i meet with my real family, wish me luck. ❞
  • ❝ you are more than family to me. ❞
  • ​❝ my whole family decided to come into town and stay a bit. ❞
  • ❝ are you worried about meeting my family? because you shouldn’t. ❞
  • ❝ have you seen my family? crazy is an understatement. ❞
  • ​❝ i wish i had a family, but i’ll never know the feeling. ❞
  • ​❝ you are lucky to have a family, that’s all i’ve ever wanted. ❞
  • ​❝ i will do anything and everything for my family, no matter what. ❞
  • ​❝ you are family to me, more so than some of my actual family. ❞
  • ​❝ it’s the closest thing i’ve got to a family.  ❞
  • ​❝ this family is falling a part and it is all your fault! ❞
  • ​❝ you’re the reason our family is the way it is now. ❞
  • ​❝ i don’t think your family likes me very much. ❞
  • ​❝ i have a complicated relationship with my in-laws. ❞
  • ​❝ what’s it like to have a family? i’ve never known. ❞
  • ​❝ one day, we are going to have a family of our own. ❞
  • ❝ do you want to start a family with me one day? ❞
  • ​❝ i have a really big/small family. ❞
  • ​❝ where is your family? ❞
  • ​❝ i don’t have a family. ❞
  • ​❝ we are not family anymore.  ❞
  • ​❝ we’re no longer family as far as i’m concerned. ❞
  • ​❝ if you mess with any of my family then you’re messing with all of us. ❞
cancer

hey guys

so this fic is a sad one, but please READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. It has themes relating to cancer and death, big ones, so if that upsets you or could possibly be a trigger, please read at your own risk. 

also ive been very fortunate to never experience someone that has cancer close to me, but i have dealt with death close to me. so i apologize if its off or not right, let me know if it is so i can fix it

i did a bit of research so i hope that was enough

love u all also this is based off the mcr song

i hope u cry

summary: richie has cancer

words: 2735

pairing: richie and eddie


Richie knew something was wrong. He woke up every day this week with a headache, which usually got to be unbearable to the point where it made him feel sick. He had thrown up multiple times and he knew he had to get to the hospital. Richie approached the tall building on his bike, feeling his stomach becoming sour. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s not just sick.
   

He approached the desk at the front of the room, practically falling against it. Richie was sweating and he could feel his energy draining. “I need… I need to see a doctor… It’s… It’s an emergency..” He barely managed to slur out. The room started to spin and his stomach cramped into knots. The nurse managed to catch the boy before he hit the floor, picking him up and taking him to an ER doctor. As soon as Richie’s head hit the gurney, he was out cold.
  

 Richie awoke with a start, breathing in sharply and sitting up quickly. His arm stung lightly and he realized he had tugged the IV poked into his arm. The room he was in was white all over, baby blue curtains surrounded the room and shielded him from seeing what was beyond them. A doctor pushed aside the paper curtain, holding a metal clipboard. The doctor looked up and saw Richie was awake, offering him a kind smile.
   

“Hello, Mr. Tozier, is it?”
   

Richie nodded slowly, a dull throbbing in his head.
  

 “We did a couple tests while you were out and… We seem to have some terrible news,” The doctor spoke slowly, solemnly. Richie could tell he wasn’t faking it, the guy was genuinely upset. A sigh left his lips as he made eye contact with Richie, sitting down in a chair opposite him. “Richie, I’m sorry, you have leukemia.”
  

 Richie couldn’t process what was happening anymore. The doctor’s lips were moving, presumably explaining his condition, but he couldn’t hear anything. The world around him blurred. He was crying.His hands were shaking, reaching up to cover his face. His glasses weren’t there anymore, he didn’t know where they went. His entire body was trembling violently with sobs. He was going to die and he knew it. There was no way to pay for the treatment, nor did his parents even care regardless, even if his condition was terminal. It was bound to be and Richie couldn’t do anything to save himself.
   

The doctor wrote a small note and laid it on the bedside table, leaving Richie alone. He didn’t know how long he sat there in a ball, crying. It could’ve been half an hour, or maybe even two hours. Richie didn’t know. He felt numb as he sat there, his cheeks stained with tears. He grabbed his glasses from off the blanket where they had fallen off. Reaching over, he grabbed the small note that the doctor had left there prior to him leaving. ‘I know your home and financial situation (as I used to be friends with your mother) and I’ll pay for as many chemo treatments as I can for you’ it read, signed ‘Doctor Bryson.’
   

Richie was thankful, truly he was. He sat there with the note in his shaky hands, debating internally on one subject. Do I tell the losers?
   

He eventually settled on a no. Richie wasn’t going to subject his friends to that kind of turmoil. He could handle it alone, he always did anyway. It’s what he did best, ever since he was 9 years old. He crumpled up the note, letting out a sharp breath. It really hit him then, in that moment, that he was going to die.


Richie was acting weird as of late. Everyone in the Loser’s club had acknowledged it, some more than others. Beverly noticed first, though. Bev always picked up on changes in her friends before anyone else’s. It was her secret talent, you could say.
   

Richie came in one day pale and frail looking. He had been for the past week. Beverly glanced at him, wondering what was wrong. Maybe he was really sick. She decided, sliding into the seat next to him. “Hey, Rich, are you feeling alright?” She asked, leaning forward on the table and resting her head in her hand.
   

Richie nodded his curls bouncing from the motion. “Yeah, just sick.” He said confidently, giving her a smile.
  

 Beverly didn’t buy it, narrowing her eyes to study him. “What going on, really?” She questioned, sitting up.
  

 Richie shook his head, leaning back in the hard plastic chair. “Nothing. My lack of dick is making me sick.” He chuckled, glancing over at his best friend (and possible crush) Eddie Kaspbrak. “Hey, Eds!” He sang, dragging out the ‘s’ sound. 

   “Don’t call me that!” Eddie yelled from across the room.


   Mike was the second to notice something was up with the Trashmouth. During one of their weekly movie night sleepovers, he noticed Richie had missed out on at least two dick joke opportunities. That never happened, ever, especially with Richie Tozier. That kid never lets a joke that could be made go by unsaid. It was odd, watching Richie stare off into space for minutes at a time before he snapped himself back into reality.

Mike didn’t say anything as he watched Richie lull off again, his brown eyes seemingly clouding over. Something was wrong.
He watched for a few more moments when Richie finally snapped back into reality. Richie shook his head a bit as if trying to get whatever was bothering him off of him. He settled back into the couch, his eyes trained on the television screen. Mike made a mental note of this behavior before doing the same as Richie.


Bill, Stan, Ben, and Eddie all noticed when Richie didn’t come to school for a week. He never missed school, even when he had the stomach flu. He puked on the history teacher when they were kids, but even so, he came to school with that sickness. No one knew where he was. The Loser’s went to the office to ask and they said no one had called or given an explanation to his whereabouts that week. All of them were confused and Bill even tried to go to Richie’s house but no one answered the door.


Richie came back to school the next week, even more, sick looking than he had the previous weeks. A black beanie atop his head, he still strode in with his usual confidence even if he didn’t look the part. Eddie practically pounced on him when he walked through the double doors that Monday. “Where were you?” He demanded, hitting Richie in the arm in an attempt to show his ‘anger.’
Richie chuckled. “I was sick. I was throwing up and everything, it was really gross. But I’m sure you’d love to hear every last detail about it, huh?”

Eddie made a face of disgust, nearly gagging at the thought of throw up. “I’m good.” He said, turning off the alarm on his watch that started to go off. He had abandoned his fanny pack years ago after he found out his mother had been making him take placebos ever since he was a kid. His mother had a serious case of Munchausen by proxy that he hoped would die down now that he had realized. Regardless of this, Eddie still hated germs. It was embedded in him since he was a child and he didn’t think it was ever going to change.

Eddie finally noticed the dark gray beanie sitting atop Richie’s head. This was odd. He never wore hats, he said it ‘fucked up his perfect hair.’

“What’s with the hat, Tozier?” Eddie asked, getting on his tiptoes to remove the beanie to inspect it closer. Richie flinched, taking two small steps backward. The smaller boy furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion, silently asking what was wrong.

“You don’t wanna see my hair, toots, trust me.” Richie joked, seemingly regaining whatever it was he had lost a few seconds prior. “It is terrible.” He added, faking a Spanish accent on the last word.

Eddie scoffed. “Okay, whatever.” He blew it off, watching Richie walk up to Stan and start to annoy him as per usual. But Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.


“Eddie, is there something wrong?” Beverly asked, hoisting herself onto the hood of Richie’s beat-up car. They were waiting for him to come back from the gas station’s convenience store with snacks. Eddie glanced up at her, staring at her expression for a little before shaking his head slowly. “What’s up?” She responded, taking a long drag from the cigarette between her lips. 


“I think something’s wrong with Richie.” He admitted, rubbing his arm gently.
Beverly hopped off the hood, instead leaning against it. “Me too. I noticed it a week or so ago, but I thought he was just sick.”


Eddie shrugged. “It’s making me nervous. I mean, since when did Richie wear hats?”


“He doesn’t,” Beverly stated, throwing the butt of the cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it with her boot. Richie approached them with a plastic bag filled with chips and soda, holding it up triumphantly. 


“Richie once again is the hero.” He smiled, setting the bag on the car’s hood. Beverly reached in, grabbing the sleeve of licorice and eating one.


Eddie watched Richie glance at his beat-up shoes and grimace, before looking up with a smile. “C’mon, Eds, I got your favorite. You know you love Reese’s.” Richie teased, throwing the small package at Eddie. It hit his chest and fell to the ground, Eddie not even bothering to attempt to catch it. “What the hell? Your arms made of spaghetti, Eddie Spaghetti?” He joked, reaching down and picking up the orange package. “Here.”


Richie placed it in Eddie’s hand, smiling a bit. Eddie gave him a smile back hoping neither of them saw his cheeks growing red.


Richie stopped showing up to school. A week turned into two weeks and two weeks turned into a month with still no sign of Richie. 


Eddie approached his house slowly, knocking on the wooden door. The door creaked open, his hand still raised in the air. He dropped his hand down and slowly stepped inside, quietly praying his parents weren’t home. Music was quietly playing from upstairs mixed with the sound of running water. Eddie slowly walked up the stairs, peeking through the crack in the door. Steam filled the room, coming from the bathroom attached to Richie’s room. 


Eddie felt like such a creep, but he was concerned. He glanced around the room before he noticed the water had turned off. Richie walked out of the bathroom wearing pajamas and Eddie nearly audibly gasped. Richie’s hair was missing in multiple places. He was nearly bald on the back of his head. He pushed the door open, stumbling into the room.


Richie turned on his heel. “What the fuck, Eddie? Why are you here?” He demanded, angrily.


Eddie was shocked into silence. He couldn’t process what was going through his mind. “Richie. What happened?” He asked softly, going to approach Richie. He stepped towards him, but Richie stepped backward. “Richie…” 


“You need to leave,” Richie said, looking down at the floor.


“No, you need to tell me what the hell is going on!” Eddie spat. “You don’t show up to school for a month and you expect me to leave?”


Richie let out a long sigh, kicking an old shoebox across the floor. “I have leukemia, Eds. I can’t… I can barely stand anymore… I have to…” He started to chuckle, tears welling up in his eyes. “I shower sitting down, Eddie! It’s like I’m a sad 80-year-old man.”


Eddie couldn’t breathe. “W-What? Richie- You- Why didn’t you tell us? Tell me?”
Richie shook his head, sitting down on his bed. “You think I was gonna tell everyone I was dying? No way in hell.”


Eddie frowned. “You’re not dying-”


“Really?” Richie yelled, trying to stand but falling back down. “You really believe that? I can barely stand! My parents don’t give two shits! The only reason I’m not dead yet is that Dr. Bryson’s paid for two chemo treatments! This third one is the last he can pay for and after that, Eds, I’m gonna die.” His voice cracked, a tear falling down his cheek. Eddie had been Richie’s friend since they were 13 and he’d never seen him cry. He knew Richie cried he just never thought he’d see him actually cry. 


“Richie, we can try and get you help.” Eddie offered.


Richie shook his head, taking off his glasses and covering his face. Eddie sat down next to him, wrapping his arm around Richie’s frame. He leaned into Eddie’s touch, tears still streaming down his face. Richie was broken and Eddie was breaking, he knew it.


Three months later, every Loser sat in the waiting room. Every Loser except Eddie, who they wanted to let say goodbye to Richie alone. They knew of their special bond. Eddie sat on a chair next to Richie’s hospital bed, holding his frail hand in his own. Eddie was on the verge of tears and his breaths were shaky.
Richie wasn’t breathing very well, but he still tried his best to talk to everyone who visited him, even his parents. The doctor informed him he had just about two months left and that was three months ago. Richie had pushed through an extra month but he lost his fight.

“I can’t believe I killed a… fucking clown and… cancer beat me…” He chuckled, starting to cough. Eddie let out a laugh, a tear falling down his face and landing on their intertwined hands.


“Eds…” Richie gasped, squeezing Eddie’s hand as tight as he could. “I want you… I want you to know… that… that… I love… love you… Eddie…”
As he finished his thought, Richie’s head fell back onto the pillow. Eddie sat up quickly. “Richie? Richie!” He tried to shake him but he wasn’t waking up. The monitor was beeping wildly. “Rich! Richie!” The beeping stopped and it was replaced by a constant whine. “Richie…” He sobbed, hot tears rolling down his red cheeks. He squeezed Richie’s still warm hand, bringing it up to his lips shakily, kissing it lightly. 


“Richie…” Eddie whispered, his voice cracking halfway through.
A doctor walked him out of the room, giving his condolences. Eddie walked out into the waiting room, all of the Loser’s standing upon his entry. “He’s..” He started, but in that moment it really hit Eddie that his best friend, his best friend that he loved, was truly gone. He started to sob again, falling to the tile floor. He curled up into a ball, feeling his friends surround him. Bill even wrapped his arms around Eddie tightly as he cried. Not one Loser’s eye was dry. Everyone in that room loved Richard Tozier, no matter how annoying he could get sometimes. In that instant, all of their world’s came crashing down. The Loser’s would never- could never- truly be the Losers without Richie.


“He’s gone…” Eddie cried, his eyes burning from tears. “Richie… He… I didn’t tell him.. I didn’t tell him I… I loved him back! I loved him back! I didn’t tell him!” Eddie became erratic, thrashing to get out of their arms. “I have to tell him I love him!”


“Eddie-” Bill grabbed him, holding him in place.


“Bill, I have to tell him! I love him! Bill, I love him! I didn’t say it back, I have to tell him!” Eddie was shaking violently, trying to escape Bill’s grasp. He was crying too.


“Eddie… Eddie, he’s gone… Please…” Bill was trying to get him to calm down but it wasn’t working. 


Eddie Kaspbrak was officially broken.


hello 

did you cry? cause i did

i hope you guys enjoyed, thank you so much for reading

masterlist

ask to be on permanent taglist/ask me stuff

PSA: i love richie and this hurt me a lot

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You.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Albus and Gellert are in the library again, one hunched over a massive book, the other pouring over a wall pasted with various notes and articles that connect with one another in a way only the two young men could understand. Albus looks up from his book with contained frustration.

Sighing, he removes his glasses, tossing them aside onto the table, and rubs his temples. There is a sliver of daylight streaming through the dark curtains that cover the window, as always; and Albus gazes out at the clear, bright summers day for a moment, before deciding to break the silence.

Gellert doesn’t turn from his pondering stance, still looking at the book in his hands not paying much attention to the other man’s words. Albus waits a moment before his patience runs out.

Albus: Surely. Even if only to… clear our minds, if you will.

Gellert finally looks up from his findings, considering whether he should try to convince Albus to stay (something he found himself to be particularly good at) but then decides against it. After all his friend has a point. He takes some “light reading” with him as he follows Albus out of the house.

Keep reading