the wandering room

The Wandering Room

I like the idea that there’s a room on campus that’s exactly like the dream where you have a final you haven’t studied for. It moves from place to place, and no one finds it more than once. As soon as you enter, you Know that you need to take the test.

You find the room when you open the door to your normal class. Instead of whatever room you expect is a massive lecture hall. Every seat in the room is full except yours, and the people are dressed in clothes from every period since the school became Strange. You make your way to your seat and open the booklet. The questions are impossible things you could only learn from a member of the Gentry:

  • How many dreams are in a bushel of starlight?
  • What holds back the winter in the Long Autumn?
  • What is the tensile strength of a cat’s shadow?

You can take as long as you like on the test; you will always leave the room at exactly the same amount of time after you entered it. Since no one goes there on purpose, it’s impossible to know the exact times, but by comparing watches, it’s been narrowed to between 3 and 3 ½ minutes. You exit the room and end up walking into whatever room you had intended to enter when you found the Wandering Room.

Even harder to prove are the rumors of boons granted to those who do well on the test.

  • A self-conscious boy who never has another bad hair day.
  • A clumsy girl who suddenly demonstrates extreme grace.
  • There’s even one rumor of a student who had been Bound to the University finally graduating and moving away, but no one really believes that one.


There is value in knowing how much the students have learned in any given age.

Coda 12x11

Sam’s trying to keep it together but it isn’t easy with Dean wandering off like a child, nothing even resembling a lead on the witch, and the metaphorical clock ticking so loudly that he can practically hear it. The television kept Dean’s focus for a while, but now he’s restlessly wandering around the motel room, complaining. Racking his brain for a game to pull up on his phone to keep his brother occupied, Sam entreats him to sit back down on the bed, but Dean shakes his head.

“I wanna go outside,” he says again.

“I need to keep working so we can get you…better,” Sam says, with a false note of confidence. “If you could just give me some time to research—“

“I wanna go outside,” Dean insists, like a child who wants to play. Sam’s trying not to snap at him when Dean’s suddenly present again with a pained lucidity in his eyes that Sam hasn’t seen for the past few hours.  “It’s too much being cooped up in here, Sammy, waiting for whatever I’m gonna lose next. I need some fresh air. I need to see the sky.”

Sam’s on his feet in an instant. It’s bad enough when Dean lets Sam lead him around, happy to be along for the ride and pleased with whatever simplistic answers Sam gives him. But at least in those moments Sam can pretend it’s a stranger wearing his brother’s body. These flashes of awareness are exponentially worse and Sam is determined to give him whatever he needs.

“Ok, Dean,” he suggests. “How about this?” He moves a chair into the motel doorway, propping the door open with it. It will leave him close enough to get a signal while he keeps one eye on Dean outside. The Impala is parked right at the curb and he leads Dean to it, hoping that the familiar sun-warmed feel of the hood will comfort him in a way that words can’t. Dean climbs onto the hood with his eyes trained on the clear blue sky. As Sam watches, Dean begins to relax, leaning back against the windshield. “You want your sunglasses?”

Dean doesn’t answer, just shakes his head no. Sam gets back to work.

The calm lasts about a half hour until clouds begin to move in, marring the blue with a promise of rain.

Dean clambers awkwardly down from Baby and comes to stand before Sam. “The ocean,” he says with no preamble.

Sam blinks up at him. “What about it?”

“I want to go see the ocean.”

“Dean.” Sam tries to keep his voice calm and gentle. “We’re in Arkansas. There’s no ocean here.”

“But I want to see it.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. That’s not something we can do right now.” Dean’s face begins to crumple, so Sam quickly adds. “I have an idea,” and that’s enough to elicit Dean’s interest. Back inside the room, Sam takes out Dean’s laptop and types ocean into Google image search. “How about you look at pictures of oceans and tell me which one you want to go see when we’re all done here?”

Dean’s already fixated on the blues and greens filling the screen and he reaches for the computer.

“Just click right here to make each one bigger.” Sam points to the trackpad and he’s treated to an eye roll from his brother that he finds equal parts jarring and reassuring.

“I’m not an idiot, Sam.”

You forgot your own name, Sam wants to say, but there’s no point in burdening Dean with that.

“Ok, Dean. Find the one you like best.”

Sam gets back to his research as Dean takes his assignment to heart. There’s a steady stream of clicking and muttering as Dean opens and then rejects photo after photo. Finally, he stands and brings the laptop over to Sam.

“This one.”

Sam smiles at him and takes a look to be polite. It’s a beach in French Polynesia with tropical waters as deep and blue as…

“Good job, Dean. I’m gonna call Cas, ok?”

Dean nods, never taking his eyes away from the screen.


On his way to meet Rowena, Sam pauses in the doorway. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he tells Cas, who is sitting on one of the beds.

Calmer than he’s been all day, Dean lies with his head in Cas’s lap. When Cas turns to say goodbye to Sam, Dean reaches out a hand to Cas’s cheek, angling his face so he can continue to stare up into his eyes.

anonymous asked:

Penny for your thoughts…this might make the narrative too short, but what if, in the space mall episode, Shiro and Black had defeated/killed Zarkon (who then, apparently, would be dead in the real world)? What would the eventual how-has-your-day-gone exchange look like? (An even more ludicrous contrast in tone? Other paladins: Soooo, while we were out, we seem to have maybe ended up with a cow. Shiro: Soooo, while you were out, I seem to have maybe ended Zarkon…)

“And this is why you have this…. cow.”  Allura drew the word out slowly like she was tasting it and not sure she liked it.  Her gaze drew back over to the cow in question, who continued to wander the control room, likely in search of grass.

Shrugging, Pidge nodded.  “Yep.  And this!”  She held up her video game console above her head, letting out an excited whoop.  “Forget the cow, we have video games, now!”

Lance let out a yelp and trotted over to the cow, covering her ears.  “Don’t talk about Kaltenecker that way!”  Unbothered by Lance’s attempts to preserve her self-esteem, the cow wandered off.  Lance continued to chase her, which at least didn’t seem to bother the creature.

“Compared to that, I didn’t do too badly,” Hunk reported.

Keith eyed him.  “Yeah, you only got shackled to a food court stand.”

“I got out, and people really liked my food.”  Shrugging, Hunk gave a little smile.  “Uh, there might be a small bounty on me.  A little one.  By the stall owner.  He didn’t want me to leave after.  I’m sure there’s bigger ones for us.”

For a moment there was silence, as Allura stared at all four, then looked at Coran.  He shrugged and grinned at her, still shuffling the lenses in his hands.

Visibly giving up, Allura turned to look at Shiro.  “How did bonding go?”

Shiro had stayed quiet for his team’s stories.  Normally he’d have questions - many questions - but today he couldn’t manage.  Steeping his fingers in his hands, Shiro slowly tracked his eyes to up to meet Allura’s.  “Um.  Zarkon might be dead.”

There was dead silence.

(Read More Below)

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one night nursey woke up from a really bad nightmare and somehow managed to crawl out of bed without waking dex and wandered from his dorm room to the haus so he could climb into chowder’s bed because while dex is his bf and he loves him he’s never been too good at dealing with nursey after a particularly rough nightmare but chowder. chowder understands. nursey usually checks to make sure caitlyn isn’t over because he’ll hate himself that much more if he disturbs them (and just sleep on the couch instead)

but if she’s not he crawls into bed with chowder and chowder is awake instantly and knows what’s wrong and he holds onto nursey who’s cold (he didn’t put on a jacket) and trembling (it scared him so bad) and hyperventilating a bit (i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry) and he just lets Nursey fall asleep against him, warming up slowly and surely and being pulled down from the adrenaline of the nightmare by the constant of chowder’s heartbeat and chowder helping him count his breaths so he’s not panicking as badly until nursey’s asleep again

and chowder texts dex to let him know that nursey is alright and just had a nightmare and he isn’t surprised at the immediate reply from dex of “i’m omw” because dex knows that nursey can’t go to chowder forever and even though chowder’s bed really isn’t all that big enough to fit all three of them he knows chowder doesn’t mind when nursey’s like this

and dex squeezes in so that he’s got an arm and a leg thrown over nursey (and chowder) and he’s there when nursey wakes up and is all apologies and self-deprecating jokes and chowder and dex make sure nursey knows he’s no trouble and that they both love him because he’s their friend/boyfriend (in dex’s case)

i didn’t mean for this to be implied polyfrogs whoops


I’m not one to hop onto headcannons super easily, but adhd Lance has got me going. These have probably been said already, but anyways:

  • Lance sitting on the couches in weird positions because it’s entertaining him/weirdly comfortable
    • especially when the paladins are listening to one of Allura’s training speeches or the like
    • and then when he finds something boring, slipping out of the room to wander around the castleship
  • Lance wandering into rooms on the castleship just out of curiosity and because hey, he’s never been down this hallway before
    • he’s run into Pidge multiple times tinkering or trying to figure something out
    • this one time she popped up from under a desk wearing a welding mask and a massive bedhead
    • it startled Lance at first, but he just kinda accepted it for what it was
  • Lance picking on Keith not only because they are “rivals”, but because it makes him feel less inferior, and at this point it’s a habit
    • he knows some of the things he says are a bit overboard, and that he’s being annoying
    • but he just CANT STOP
    • and he quietly apologizes when it’s just the two of them
  • Lance vents to Hunk about absolutely everything
    • Homesick? vent to Hunk
    • Keith was better than him? vent to Hunk
    • Did something awesome in the lion the other day? you bet he’s gonna tell Hunk every single detail
    • he also gets super excited about things
      • especially NEW things
      • and will rant to Pidge about it
      • Pidge has become very very good at listening with one ear
  • The others (namely Allura and Shiro) have gladly accepted the fact that they may have to repeat instructions multiple times to get the point across
    • they’ll all be in the common area and Allura will come in and give them their next instructions, but Lance will zone out part way through, just thinking about things
    • sometimes he’ll have to be told three times what he’s supposed to be doing before it “sticks”
    • on particularily bad days, he will sometimes ask questions and forget to listen for the answer
  • When Lance is hyperfocusing OH BOY does he hyperfocus 
    • need cryopods cleaned? done
    • take out a Galra tower? you betcha he’ll get it done
    • also he got bored one day and organized all of Allura’s dresses by colour
light in the dark // stiles stilinski pt. 2

Summary: Y/N makes a deal with the nogitsune to save Stiles

Requested: no

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: no, mature language & topics throughout 


He didn’t know how long he had been sitting in the lobby, but he knew it must have been awhile. Counting the soft ticks from the clock on the other side of the room was his only way of telling how much time had actually passed.

Despite Melissa practically forcing him to eat something when Scott had bought him to the hospital earlier that morning, he hadn’t eaten all day. His stomach grumbled but he ignored it as his eyes wandered around the room.

Lydia sat across from him, whispering things to Kira every now and then. Scott sat next to him, bouncing his knee and staring at his thumbs. He couldn’t help but feel like this was his fault. He lead the nogistune right to her and because of him, she had been in a coma for the past 10 hours completely unconscious. 

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Nightmares - Jughead Jones

Anonymous said:

Please do #145, #153 and #179 with Jughead? I just got to say as well your writing is incredible

#145 “Stay, please”.

#153 “I have these weird feelings…”

#179 “Kiss me. Right here, right now”.

Originally posted by bvreathe

Your family told you that they would be taking a short trip just to get out of Riverdale for a few days. It was a small trip so you thought you’d be fine on your own. It turned out you were anything but. The first night, you stayed up on the Internet researching murder cases similar to Jason Blossom’s. You fell asleep around 3 in the morning, plagued by the images of known killers and blood stains. So when Sunday rolled around, you were exhausted. It had been two days of no or little sleep and you didn’t think you could go another day without some rest.

“Why am I here again?” Jughead asked, wandering around your room as you set up a sleeping mat for him. You let out a groan and looked up at your friend.

“You’re here because I need to know that if a murder breaks into my house they’ll most likely kill you first because you’re closer to the door.” You pointed the sleeping mat you were setting up and gestured to the door to emphasize the closeness. Jughead just rolled his eyes and shed his jacket and flannel.

“This wasn’t a sleepover type setting where I would spill my undying love for you? I had my lines and everything.” You rolled your eyes and continued to set up his sleeping mat. “Kiss me. Right here, right now.” He chuckled, “very dramatic right?”

“You should be writing a soap opera not a crime novel.” Jughead laughed and you smiled at the cheerful boy. You stood up, looking at the clock and groaning. “Alright, this mat isn’t inflating so it looks like we’re sharing.”

“What?” You glanced at Jughead whose eyebrows knitted together in confusion. You rolled your eyes and pointed at your bed.

“We are sharing my bed.” His jaw tensed at your words and you gave him a look. “If you’re going to be a baby about it you can sleep on the floor. Just don’t leave. Stay, please.” You looked at him pleadingly, hoping that he’d get over whatever was blocking him from staying.

“Alright,” he said finally, walking towards your bed, “but only because you look exhausted.” You gave him a weak smile and crawled into your bed.

“That’s because I am exhausted, Jones.” You settled under the covers as Jughead took off his shoes and flopped down on the other side of your bed. You flipped the switch to turn off the lights and the mysterious darkness surrounded the two of you.

“So where’s your family?” You turned over on your side to face Jughead, whose face was barely visible in the moonlight. The shade made his features look harder and sharper than they truly were but his eyes remained soft when he spoke.

“On a small getaway. I wanted to spend some time alone. I was doing fine until I stayed up watching crime documentaries and was too scared to sleep.”

“Nightmares?” The way the question fell from his lips sounded like he understood.

“Yeah,” you said, blushing a little at how terrified you seemed. You felt the mattress shift and noticed that Jughead scooted a little closer.

“I get them too,” he whispered, and you smiled to yourself. “I have these weird feelings…” he paused, “that one day I’ll wake up and everyone I love will be gone because I couldn’t stop whoever killed Jason.” Your heart broke at his words. His dreams went beyond your blood stains and faceless pursuers; Jughead dreamed of an unimaginable loss he could not control. How tormenting that must feel. “I know it sounds dumb, it’s just what happens. It’s become so common that, when I wake up, I’m not as scared anymore.”

You reached out a tentative hand, brushing it against his face soothingly. “That’s horrible, much worse than my nightmares.” You felt his hand grab yours, pulling it to his chest. You could almost feel his heartbeat in his chest from where he had placed your palm.

“It’s always either Jellybean, you, or my mom that I lose in my dreams.” His voice was quiet now, but not because he was tired. “I go to sleep fearing that I’ll have to see you die again like a few nights before.” You cuddled closer to Jughead, so close that you were both sharing the same air. Your hand still rested against his chest, his hand still holding it there.

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered, “I’ll be right here.” You felt him nodded against the pillow and you let out a sigh. “And to think I was the one that called you over here.”

“Y/N,” he said as he closed his eyes, “if you tell anyone that this happened I won’t sleep over ever again.” You let out a small giggle and Jughead smiled in the moonlight. His closed eyes made him look peaceful, his eyelashes fanning out against his cheeks

“Go to sleep Jughead. Your secret is safe with me.” You whispered and Jughead exhaled out his nose quickly.

“What secret is that?” His voice sounded tired, he was drifting off into sleep quickly. You smiled and closed your own eyes.

“That you’re just as scared as the rest of us.”

Mike’s room after El's disappearance

- Mike gets a nightlight after El disappears; not because he’s afraid of the dark, but because he’s determined to stay awake for hours after he’s told to go to bed, watching the light to see if it’ll flicker. it always does, which fills Mike with hope that maybe Eleven is out there somewhere.

- while she’s in the Upside Down, El always wanders into Mike’s room when she has a chance to rest. she sits on his bed, sensing when he’s there or not. she’ll never tell him, but during that time, she could feel everything he felt; all the anger and sadness and emptiness. she felt it too.

- before El disappears, Mike never slept with his door open or his window cracked. now, he never leaves them fully closed, hoping that one day she might just wander in. of course, she never does.

- as he grows and matures, he gets rid of many of his old toys - giving them away during garage sales and charity events. he can’t seem to part with his old dinosaur named Roary or Yoda figurine. the memories tied to them may be small, but they mean everything.

- Mike never got around to washing the sweatpants and sweatshirt El wore during her first few days in Hawkins. instead, he leaves them out in his dresser, folded neatly like they’re waiting for someone to put them on. sometimes, on the harder days, he picks them up and brings them to his face. even after months have passed, he swears he can smell El’s clean scent.

- on days when he breaks down, he sits in his closet with his legs pulled toward his chest and tears streaming down his face. during that time, he thinks about when he found El in the exact same state and it makes him want to pull his hair out. how could have ever left her alone in there? how could he leave her alone in the Upside Down? how could he do this to her?

- when he has nightmares, he can’t stand his room. waking up there alone makes him restless, so he often finds himself wandering down to the basement. more than once, Karen has found him in El’s old blanket fort, twisted under soft blankets with tears still frozen on his cheeks.

Okay, so at this point, I was working at a Starbucks on a college campus. I was the overnight supervisor, so I saw a lot of crazy things. One night, this kid comes in at, like, 3am, and he is drunk as a skunk. I’m chatting with him while making his drink, not too worried about him because he’s a regular and I know he’s just going to walk back to his dorm anyway.

Kid gets out his phone and starts telling me about how there’s this girl he likes, and he’s going to text her and ask her out or whatever, declaring “I’m like a honey badger! No fear! NO FEAR!”  I wish him luck, give him his Frapuccino, and let him wander back to his room.

About 7am, here he is again. Same shirt, ordering his other usual. I tell him hello again, and he gives me this suspicious look before asking if he had already been in. I laughed, told him he was in a few hours ago, and if he didn’t remember being here, then he’d better check his texts. He does so while I make his drink, and he rushes off.

Kid came back the next night to tell me he and the girl got together, and I called him Honey Badger for the rest of the year. He actually brought friends in during my shift a few times to have me tell them the story.

let go.

wow okay so i just recently figured out that it’s klangst week and even though my fanfiction blog is still, fairytail, i’ll probably write a lot more about klance ..  @klangst-week

klangst — ANGST, T (language&PDA) — 1.1k words unrequited pining / love

tumble out of bed.
dizzy in the head.
now you won’t let go.

Keith woke up earlier than usual, running his hands slowly against the fabric of his sheets as he fully became conscious and aware of his surroundings. A quiet, deep sigh broke the silence of his room, his heart pounding in his chest and a cold sweat on his forehead due to the reason he was no longer sleeping.


It was a slow drag as he brought himself from under the covers, feet gently hitting against the cold flooring of the castle as he left his room and wandered down the hall to stand in front of a familiar door. It felt as if it took him minutes, hours, days before he was able to gain enough confidence to softly knock. The person behind it and the comforting smell of his bed were the things he sought after, his tired eyes staring at the door decor to pass time.

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Minx || Jin

Pairing - Kim Seokjin x Reader

Genre - Kind of Angst, fluff?

Warning - Sexual Tension

Summary - Jin can get really mad when he’s jealous. But you still push his buttons making him take a step further to get you to apologize.

Your laugh echoed throughout the room, as Namjoon told you what he was thinking about.

‘Would that really work though?’ You asked in between giggles, him nodding as his dimples dug deeper with a spreading smile. You smacked his arm playfully, ‘Ah, you’re such a tease, Namjoon-ah.’

He laughed, his head turning to you, 'It’s impossible not to tease, Noona.’ He winked, a hand coming to your mouth as you laughed again. Your eyes wandered the room, landing on the person whom you knew would be watching you.

Jin glared at you, his gaze slowly shifting to your hand that was resting on Namjoon’s thigh. A sly smirk that rested on your face, slowly turned into a sweet smile as Jin’s eyes came up to your face.

His face remained unchanged, staring at you intensely for a second longer before shifting his view to the game Taehyung and Jungkook were playing on the T.V.

'Namjoon,’ You whispered, 'He isn’t doing anything.’ You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, Namjoon looking at you with a reassuring smile.

'Don’t worry, Noona. It’ll happen. You didn’t react at all when he was with her, did you?’ He asked, you dragging your hand away as you thought about the day before yesterday.

'Hmm,’ You hummed, 'You’re right.’ You said, knowing there was also your fault in the current situation that hung in between you two. But knowing Jin, there was one last thing you could try which would definitely flip a switch in his head.

You leaned your head on Namjoon’s shoulder, your hand wrapping around his arm. You knew you were crossing all limits, but you really wanted Jin to know how he made you feel two days ago, or at least make sure he still cared.

You held in a breath, as you saw from your periphery vision, him getting up from the sofa, Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s bickering stopping instantly as Jin passed in front of them, fuming.

Namjoon began panicking a little, 'Y/N, let go. I’ll be in trouble too.’ He whispered hurriedly, and you let go, genuinely not wanting to cause any trouble for Namjoon or any misunderstanding between the two friends.

'Let’s go.’ Jin grumbled, grabbing your wrist, and leading you out the door, the grip getting harsher as you gave a last glance towards Namjoon, your eyes holding a promise to apologize to him later.

The ride home was cold, almost unbearabe as Jin’s jaw clenched and unclenched every time you spared him a glance. Okay, so maybe you did take it too far. In the wake of his anger, he had almost run a red light, scaring you.


'Don’t. I do not want to hear a word from your mouth right now.’ He spat, with a sharp steer of the wheel following his words. You shut your mouth, your heart beat picking up pace at his tone.

The moment he pulled the car up the driveway, he got out, you freezing in your spot for a moment to catch a breath, before following him into the house.

'Jin, I’m really sorry-’

'Sorry?’ He turned around, flashing you angry eyes, your own eyes widening before shifting down, to look at the ground as you felt shame and guilt flood your system.

'Sorry.’ He repeated, a sarcastic laugh breaking through the silence that set, him clenching his palms into tight fists. You fiddled with your fingers, unable to bring your head up to look at him.

You heard footsteps padding towards you. And with every step that he got closer to you, your heart shot out of your chest the same number of times. You saw his feet as he stood in front of you in close proximity, his breath fanning your crown as you were still looking at your feet.

'Look at me.’ He ordered, and you instantly obeyed, your eyes meeting his.

'How would you explain yourself, huh, Y/N? You think what you did was acceptable behavior?’ His voice stayed low and leveled, as he watched you blink.

You wanted to open your mouth, tell him that it was exactly what he did to the 'friend’ he had met then. But, all that courage which you had mustered up back in the dorm, had all gone flying out the window.

'No.’ You said, a bubble of anger inflating in your chest alongside one of fear.

'Then why did you do it?’ That simple question was enough for you to let go of the leash he had you tied to.

'Right, so if I get touchy with Namjoon, it’s a big deal for you. And you flirting with that girl was absolutely no problem, wasn’t it?’ You accused him shamelessly, your hands now turning into fists. His eyes held a certain emotion which you couldn’t particularly decipher, but you knew you were practically begging for trouble.

'I was not flirting with that girl, Y/N. How many fucking times do I have to- Hold on, is that why you were being that comfortable with Namjoon?’ His eyes widened, his lip curling into a smirk before he let out a breathy laugh, when you didn’t respond.

'I can not fucking believe this. Are you that god damn childish?’ He raised his voice and you flinched slightly, but you kept your eyes on him.

You shook your head, 'It’s not childish! If you were me, you would do the same thing!’ Your breath was knocked out of your lungs as Jin sandwiched you between him and the back of the couch you were standing in front of.

'I would never,’ He ran a hand down the length of your hand before resting by your hip and raising you up, sitting you on the head of the couch, 'even think,’ he pulled you closer so his body was flushed against yours, his eyes hazy and clouded as you looked into them, 'of doing such a thing like what you did.’ He said through gritted teeth before he grinded himself slowly against you, you trying your best not to give in.

'Fine.’ You said after few excruciatingly sensual moments, 'You’re right. I shouldn’t have done what I did.’ You closed your eyes for a brief moment, as his bulge rubbed against the fabric that clothed your clit.

'Apologize.’ His husky voice rang in your ear, as he pressed himself harder against you.


'You’re such a minx, do you know that, Y/N?.’ He smirked before moving away, giving you a final look and leaving the room and into your bedroom, you sitting on the couch with a frustrated knot in your stomach.

'Fucking asshole.’

Originally posted by yo-seokjin

Speak and I'll Listen

Cas and Dean have been neighbors since they were six years old, the fact that Cas is deaf meaning little to Dean until an accident makes it all too clear. Valentine’s Day special.

Dean had lived across from Castiel since he was six years old. He still remembered when the Novak’s had moved in, and how excited he’d been when a little black-haired boy with a bee stuffed animal had tottered into the house after his mother. Because they’d been the same age, and as far as Dean’s six-year-old brain had figured, that meant he got to make a new friend. Dean had always been happy to make friends.

He’d begged his mother for days – from the arms of their couches and edges of countertops – to go and meet them. With Sam on her hip, she’d said, “no, not now,” leaving Dean to wander up to his room dejected and staring out his window at the blue house across the lonely road.

Until the weekend had finally arrived, at which point Mary had packed together a welcome basket, spurred John out of the garage, and held Sam’s hand as they headed from one side across to the next. Dean had been jumping with excited nerves, smiling with his new football held in his tiny hands.

Up the stone walkway to the porch and front door of the house, Mary had knocked, the group waiting with varying degrees of anticipation.

A thin, mousy, blonde haired woman had answered, looking them up and down in silent surprise that Dean had failed to notice. He’d been too busy trying to peek past her legs into the house, looking for the little boy he’d thought he’d invite to play out in the yard.

“Um, hello,” the strange woman had greeted. Mary had said some nice words, introduced them, and soon enough they’d been in the house. Gathered in the kitchen, Dean had looked between the adult’s legs with a vigorous kind of searching, hands flexing around the football. Until, finally being noticed by Mary, an explanation had been given.

“Dean saw your son, I think,” she’d said to the strange woman, a questioning smile on her bright face, as if to make sure she’d been assuming correctly. “He’s been bugging me all week to come over and talk to you so they could play.”

“Oh…” Dean had turned hopefully up to them, not perceptive enough to see that the blonde – her name was Amelia – had been fidgeting in unease, her voice hardly above a murmur. “Well…” She’d looked Dean up and down – at his ruffled blonde hair and dirt-smudged face. He’d been teaching Sam how to catch earlier, to little success. “I suppose that… that might be alright.”

Both Mary and John had been perplexed by her hesitance, but said nothing on it as she’d walked from the kitchen. Figuring that perhaps she was simply overprotective, they’d instead focused on stopping Sam from wandering under the bar chairs, getting him rounded up just in time for Amelia to return to the room.

She’d been bent over someone, hands on the small shoulders of the little boy walking ahead of her. He’d been gripping his bee stuffed animal, a look of nervousness painted across his delicate features as he’d looked the newcomers up and down. His black hair had been nicely brushed, no filthy spots on his clothes.

None of this had deterred Dean however, who’d bounded forward with a smile, successfully startling the other boy, whose blue eyes had widened in surprise.

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I don’t know if the requests are still open , but if they are could you do an imagine where YN and Blaise prank Draco ( YN’S boyfriend). Also your blog is awesome and I love your aesthetics.have an nice day

a/n: thank you, love! I hope you don’t mind, but the relationship is slightly altered. it’s a bit more…dramatic? oh well, comme est la vie.

To befriend Blaise Zabini, one must have a certain edge. They have to embody Salazar’s dream, while remaining interesting, confident, and remarkably intelligent. It was no wonder when he began sitting next to Y/n L/n during meals. 
They had met in Transfiguration. Neither could remain interested, and both would rather fight the Whomping Willow than hear another lecture on the power behind accenting certain syllables. As his moon-like eyes wandered around the room, they paused on a girl attempting to morph a feather into the past night’s homework. She stared with determination at Hermione Granger’s scrolls, not bothering to watch her own quill morph into a near replica. Zabini was astounded, and exceedingly intrigued. They’ve been best friends ever since.
It wasn’t unusual to see the two lounging under a tree, casting pebbles into the Black Lake. When Y/n needed the sun, and Blaise needed fresh air, the two would find their way to a tall oak, casually discussing life, sinister plans, but specifically, the past week. 
‘And I swear, if that oaf, Weasley, thinks I’m just going to let him ruin our project, I’ll positively pass out from internal combustion. If we get paired up again, I think I’ll accidentally crucio him.’ A smirk of realization made its way to Blaise’s lips. Of course! How had he never thought of this before…

Y/n and Draco!

It was a perfect match! The way they talked, the way they acted, it was like a pair made in heaven. 
‘Oh, Y/n, dear, have you ever thought about dating anyone at this barmy school?’ She narrowed her eyes, flicking his hand with a small smile. ‘Now, Blaise, you know I love you, but-’ ‘Not me, dimwit. I’m just wondering if you ever thought about, perhaps, going on a blind date?’ Her nose scrunched in thoughts, a gentle breeze kissing their cheeks. ‘I suppose, after that horrendous afternoon with Oliver Wood, I wouldn’t mind being courted.’ He jumped up, already marching towards the common room. ‘Then it’s settled. Puddifoot’s, half past five, dress nicely!’ Y/n chuckled to herself while staring off at the branches. Maybe the mystery boy wouldn’t be all that bad.
‘No.’ It was preposterous. Feigning a look of astonishment, Blaise gasped, plopping himself onto one of the common room’s multiple armchairs. ‘And when have I ever steered you wrong?’ Draco looked up from his novel, milky tendrils falling onto his forehead. ‘Last month, I had to sit quietly while Daphne Greengrass complained about magical nail polish for three hours. Two weeks ago, you set me up with Bullstrode at Honeydukes. Have you ever seen a Bullstrode at a sweets shop? It’s like watching a starved warthog chomp on cake.’ Heaving an exhale, Zabini strolled towards the fire, a shallow smirk gracing his lips. ‘I guess I’ll have to find someone else to quench L/n’s loneliness.’ As expected, Draco looked up, his eyes wide with astonishment. ‘Y-You mean…L/n said yes…to a date with me?’ Blaise couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at the childlike wonder in his best mate’s eyes. ‘Course she did. But, since you’ve no interest-’ ‘I-I’ll make time.’ He looked down to the blonde, watching as he picked at a fingernail. It was as easy as taking candy from an elf.
As the breeze tickled down his back, his nervous breath floated with the current, eyes everywhere at once. She said yes. Y/n L/n actually wanted to have dinner with him! For years, he’d watched, wondered, craved. Zabini always had a knack for collecting the most marvelous things for his collection. He had a cufflink once belonging to Merlin, a hairbrush used by a young Grindelwald, but most importantly, he had the most exquisite being in Britain swayed with ambitious alliance. No one could ever even touch an item in his possession, and here Draco was, standing outside Puddifoot’s, anxiously waiting the arrival of Zabini’s pride and joy. ‘Don’t tell me you got all dressed up for little, ol’ me?’ He spun, quickly, inches away from deep, e/c eyes. Pronounced speechless, Y/n curtsied, offering her hand. ‘Y/n L/n. I believe you’re my date.’ They entered the quaint shop, diving into interesting discussion. You must understand, Draco didn’t do anything like this. He’d been on dates, sure. He’d conversed with some of London’s finest. Yet, none grabbed his attention. No witch could ever light that spark behind his eyes, and here she was, igniting an inferno. Y/n, on the other hand, never did anything like this. She never dated, never conversed. To say she was a recluse would be like calling Dumbledore ‘aged.’ When she won Zabini’s care, she had been playful, spunky, and snide. What she hadn’t thought of was the side-effects, resulting in a mean-streak, harmfulness, and ultimately, cruelty. She watched as Draco’s expression turned from joy to horror as he looked in his tea. A live cockroach climbed out of the cup, fluttering onto his pant leg.
Most people didn’t have the luxury of knowing Malfoy as a child. He was optimistic, but spoiled, yet curious. During a trip to South America, the young boy promised himself to try new and exotic foods. What he hadn’t expected was the lack of cleanliness in the kitchen to affect his meal. He bit into a crunchy, odd tasting soup, finding half a bug left in the substance. He had to be immediately apparated back to his room in England, where his mother cradled him for a week.
Y/n did not have the luxury of knowing Malfoy as a child. 
He stood, quickly, his body shaking violently as the roach clung harder to the fabric of his pants. He began pulling at his hair, while Y/n became actively worried about the state of his mentality. She, hastily, pulled out her wand, zapping the creature out of existence. Looking around in fear, Draco met the eye of every patron, their stare forcing him to run from the shop. Y/n flicked a galleon onto the table, before following him into a darkened alley. She found him in a ball on the floor, his head resting between his knees as his hands scratched his leg where the insect had resided. She kneeled next to him, brushing a strand of his hair. ‘A-Are you-’ ‘Why did you do it?’ Her mouth gaped while his shut quickly. Through clenched teeth, he hissed. ‘Puddifoot’s is clean, and c-clean places don’t have roa-’ He had to stop himself. She fiddled with her dress, looking anywhere but his trembling figure. ‘I didn’t think it’d be that bad. I-I’m sorry. I’m not good with dates, a-and I thought it might be funny. I didn’t think-’ ‘No, you didn’t.’ She sat next to him, looking at his scrunched nose and boiling cheeks. ‘Will you come with me to one more place before our date ends?’ Although he was shaken and certainly unsure, he had never been more curious.
Poofing out of thin air, the pair found themselves a few miles outside Hogwarts, feet pooling into a crystal clear pond. A faded waterfall poured misty water into the lagoon, the forest cocooning them into a peaceful frame of mind. ‘It’s called the Cleansing Pool. Legend says if you bathe in the water, you’ll be rid of all sorrow.’ He looked at her, his hard exterior melting light a candle. ‘I really messed this date up, but if you’ll let me, I’d really like to swim with you.’ He grimaced, his gaze following the ripples. ‘I’ve brought no swim trunks.’ She smiled, meeting his eyes which matched the lake. ‘Lucky for you, I’m excellent with transfiguration.’