Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit to whoever made it
A/n: i haven’t written oliver since 2017 and this is only my second time so be prepared for him being ooc 😂 but otherwise enjoy!
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“You ready to lose on Saturday, L/n?”
You span on your heel, a glare already set on your features as your eyes landed on the Gryffindor captain, his own eyes narrowed, a snarl set on his lips as he stared back at you. Your hands tightened around your broom, knuckles turning white, “In your dreams, Wood. Slytherin are going to wipe the floor with you. Good luck out there - you’re gonna need it.”
Without waiting for a response, you marched off towards the Slytherin changing rooms, grumbling under your breath. Oliver Wood was nothing if not annoying. It was possibly his life’s goal to annoy you as much as possible, particularly before games. And if Slytherin lost? You never heard the end of it.
Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit goes to whoever made it
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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3
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“Y/n watch out!”
You looked up at the last second, barely having time to register what was going on before you caught sight of the Quaffle flying towards your face. Automatically, you raised your arms and somehow managed to catch it easily, making the whole thing look effortless, even though you could have sworn you had no hand-eye coordination.
Without batting an eyelid, you threw it back to James, who was hovering on his broom in front of your place in the crowd, eyes widened a little and his jaw open in a slack ‘o’, as he couldn’t believe you’d caught it (which, if you were being honest, you couldn’t believe either).
The sound of the commentator yelling sent James straight back into the match, however as you turned your head, you saw a familiar black haired boy staring at you in awe from his place beside you. You raised an eyebrow, “Everything okay there, Black?”
He nodded, his mouth turning up into a half smirk, “That was kinda hot.”
Your heart felt like it skipped a beat, and you could feel yourself becoming flustered, but you forced yourself to shrug nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal.
“What can I say?” You dramatically brushed your hair off your shoulder in mock smugness, “I’m a woman of many talents.”
“I’d like to discover some of those talents if you’re willing. Particularly your talents in kissing, I should say,” he grinned.
“Oh yeah?” you playfully raised your eyebrows at him, “Maybe after the match I’ll show you, if you’re lucky.”
He seemed a little surprised at your agreement, but nevertheless he smiled wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief,
Hii! Can you do maybe a sick female reader, and Sokka takes care of them? A short blurb is good, and pretty much the rest is up to you!!
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!
- ✌ anon
FEVER PITCH // sokka
WC: 1k
WARNINGS: illness ig
A/N: thanks for the request! just some short cute fluffy stuff for ya. i was sick for like all of october and had the flu for like ten days and i wish i had a sokka to bring me some soup
TO: sokka <3, 7:31 PM
i think i’m sick i feel awful
TO: sokka <3, 7:31 PM
this sucks i have like 3 exams this week
TO: sokka <3, 7:56 PM
pls answer i am your gf i am ill i want attention
TO: sokka <3, 8:15 PM
sokkaaaaaaaaaaaa :’(
FROM: sokka <3, 8:17 PM
i’m here!! i’m sorry i was studying i had my phone turned off
FROM: sokka <3, 8:18 PM
my poor baby :(( how are you feeling?
TO: sokka <3, 8:18 PM
terrible!!
TO: sokka <3, 8:20 PM
i have a headache and i’m all hot but also freezing and i’m coughing and nauseous
FROM: sokka <3, 8:21 PM
that sounds miserable, do you want me to bring you soup or something? i can go to the jasmine dragon and get you some tea
TO: sokka <3, 8:21 PM
both pls 🥺
FROM: sokka <3, 8:23 PM
alrighty princess i’ll be over soon
TO: sokka <3, 8:24 PM
thank u i love u very much ur the best boyfriend ever <3333
hot take: the relationship between Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader and Sheev Palpatine is one of the most hideously abusive relationships ever realized in fiction, and the effect Palpatine’s abuse had on Anakin/Darth Vader is criminally overlooked in 99% of Star Wars critical analyses.
becky hiii oki i am now following you here too! tbh i didn’t know this was you until i read your comment and then i was like ‘oh. well that makes so much sense’ 😂
anyway hi i’m here and ily ♥️♥️
shayna hiiiii but yeah ahah I’m trying to use my side more now and ilyt <3
“It doesn’t matter what they think. I love you, and that’s what matters.”
Written for @johnmurphyisbisexual’s writing challenge!
Special thanks to @the-moon-and-the-book for both beta reading and coming up with the title!
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The heavy door to your private chambers creaked open to reveal the room’s other occupant; your husband, Remus Lupin. He carried an enormous stack of tests to grade in one hand, two cups of coffee in the other, and he held a newspaper clenched between his teeth. He shut the door the same way he opened it; with his foot.
You leapt forward to help him, taking some of the items from where they balanced precariously in his hold, constantly on the verge of falling. He breathed a sigh of thanks, pressing a kiss to your temple as you made your way to the bed.
Upon closer inspection, you realized half the papers he had brought in were actually yours. You taught Herbology and had recently assigned an essay. You hummed in gratitude when Remus handed you a pastry and a couple of colored muggle pens. You knew the older members of the faculty preferred quill and ink, but you chose pens. They were easier to use and much less tedious to maintain.
He smiled softly, humming in acknowledgement as you both sat down to mark papers. The room lapsed into silence, the only sound being the clicking of pens and the occasional mutters of disapproval when either of you saw something you didn’t particularly like.
A tapping on the window broke you out of your concentration. You spun around, eyes searching for the source of the sound when you spotted a small brown owl perched on the windowsill, rapping its beak against the glass.
A messenger owl.
You jumped up, hurrying over to fling open the window and welcome the creature inside. The poor thing was soaked through; it was pouring outside.
“Rem, will you get me a towel for the owl?”
“Sure thing, love.” He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and emerged moments later with a navy blue towel.
You gently wrapped the owl up in the cloth, hoping it would help the animal get warm and dry.
There was a small cylindrical vessel strapped to the owl’s back, colored a deep red, like the darkest red visible during a sunset. You undid the clasps holding it in place, popping off the cap and peering inside. The case held a sheet of paper, rolled up tightly in order to make it fit.
“Who’s it from?” Remus’s gentle voice inquired.
You didn’t reply immediately, unfurling the note and letting your eyes fly over the words first.
“My parents,” you finally answered. “They want to have us over for dinner tomorrow evening.”
“That’ll be a welcome distraction from marking papers,” he remarked.
Remus was on relatively good terms with your family. They were somewhat sceptical of his background at first, but decided they would be happy as long as you were. Your father gave a very nervous and jittery Remus his blessing shortly before he proposed, and you had been happily married ever since.
You laughed. “Definitely.”
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When you awoke the next morning, your hand searched the bed for Remus, for his warmth. You found nothing. Only when your fingers reached the edge of the bed, the precipice between the sheets and the floor, did you open your eyes.
You blinked blearily, letting your eyes get accustomed to the light entering through the small gap between the curtains. Remus was nowhere to be seen.
Throwing on your robes, you shuffled over to the bathroom and peered inside. Where was he? He was indeed a morning person, but there was no reason for him to be up this early in the weekend.
Your incessant internal questions were soon answered when you heard the telltale creak of the heavy wooden door. Remus entered; you could tell from his hunched shoulders he was deep in thought. The dark circles under his eyes told you he had probably not slept much the past few hours.
“Rem? Remus, is everything all right?” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
He wouldn’t meet your eyes, simply holding up a newspaper and muttering, “See for yourself.”
So you took the paper from him, sitting on the bed as you turned the pages in an attempt to find out what exactly was troubling him so. The sound of the paper crackling under your fingers which usually held so much satisfaction for you, gave you no pleasure this time.
“Oh no.”
You now knew what it was, you knew what had upset him. The fifth page of the paper held a picture of him; it depicted him perfectly, there was no chance of anyone not recognize him. And on the off chance someone didn’t connect the dots, his name was printed right below it. The article revealed his true nature, his lycanthropy, informing everyone who didn’t yet know that Hogwarts’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a werewolf.
You glanced up. Remus stood at the open window, both hands leaning on the windowsill as he looked out over the school grounds. You could tell from his posture he was incredibly worried, and he had every right to be. No one would hire a werewolf, much less send their child to a school which had one employed as a teacher.
“Remus?”
“How could this happen?” His voice cracked and you knew he was trying his very best to keep control of his emotions. “We were so careful, how is this possible?”
“I don’t know,” you murmured. “But we’ll handle this the way we always do; together.”
“There’s nothing left to handle.”
“Remus, my love, don’t give up hope. There’s always something. Perhaps my family can help; they have a well-respected name.”
He didn’t reply immediately, instead gazing out over the field where students were playing, studying, or just hanging out.
“They don’t know yet, do they?” It was not a question, more like a statement, as you both knew it to be true.
“They don’t- they didn’t,” you sighed. “But my family knows you. We’re married, for Merlin’s sake. They’re not going to shun you.”
“We shall see about that,” he muttered, straightening up nevertheless. “In the meantime, I should probably have a talk with Minnie. I’ll see you later for lunch?”
You nodded. “As always.”
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Fastening your hairpin, you gave yourself a final once over in the mirror. You were dressed to the nines, and yet you wouldn’t classify your attire as too fancy for the occasion. Satisfied with your appearance, you exited the bathroom adjoining your shared bedroom to go look for Remus.
“Rem?” you called. “You ready to go?
You opened the door separating your bedroom from the hallway with its incredibly high ceilings, as could be expected from any old building. Your husband stood outside, leaning against the wall as he waited.
He hummed in confirmation, a soft smile spreading over his face at the sight of you. He reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours as he twirled you around slowly, admiration plain in his eyes. Pulling you close, he pressed his lips to yours, gingerly, as though you were the most precious treasure one could possibly imagine.
“Rem!” you laughed, “We have to go! You know my mother hates when we’re late!”
“As my lady wishes.”
With that, he waved his wand and you disapparated, reapparating right outside your parents’ large house. Walking up the cold stone steps, you felt Remus stiffen slightly, and you squeezed his hand. A comforting gesture, one he immediately returned.
The doorbell sounded loudly, chiming once, twice, three times before falling silent. You waited as quick, light footsteps approached, flinging open the door.
“Auntie (y/n)!” the young girl cried, jumping up and down in excitement. It was your young niece Ada, dressed in a pretty pink skirt and with her hair coiffed in cute, bouncy curls. “It’s auntie (y/n)!”
Another set of footsteps approached, slower and calmer than Ada’s. Your mother appeared in the doorway, smiling and greeting you and Remus as she ushered you inside.
“Dinner’s not ready yet,” she remarked casually as she returned to the kitchen, presumably to continue preparing the meal.
Little Ada remained by your side, dragging you by your hand to come look at her latest drawing. Remus still stood in the hall, but the young girl kept you so occupied you could do little more than glance at him every few minutes.
Your father and your brother soon entered, laughing loudly at what must have been an incredibly funny joke.
“Ah, (y/n)!” your father exclaimed when he spotted you sitting in a corner with Ada on your lap and a children’s book in your hand. “I see Ada’s gotten to you already.”
“Yes, she has. I didn’t remember her having this much energy the last time,” you joked, but Ada tugged on your arm to remind you you were supposed to be reading her fairytales.
“Ah, and Remus.” You couldn’t help but notice how much less enthusiastic your father’s greeting was when it was addressed to your husband.
“How’s Edward doing?” your brother cut in. “Not causing too much trouble, I hope?”
Edward was your brother’s eldest child, older than Ava by six years. He started his first year at Hogwarts that year, and your brother was rather anxious about his progress.
“He’s doing very well in his classes,” Remus replied. “Naturally, he’s pulled a couple of pranks here and there, but that is to be expected from such an energetic young lad like him.”
“I see. And no issues with… supernatural creatures?”
Your head snapped up at that. Ada whined for you to continue reading, but you simply told her to wait a moment. You were certain there was a venomous serpent hiding somewhere in your brother’s words, and when it would jump out to ambush you, someone was sure to get hurt.
Remus remained perfectly calm. “None that I am aware of. The boy’s a very talented wizard; he has proven himself very capable of defeating any creature we presented him with.”
Your brother’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and as if struck by a lightning bolt of insight, you know this was heading downhill. It was only a matter of moments before he’d attack Remus about his lycanthropy.
You were right.
“Lupin, you’re a danger to the children! It’s not safe for them to be around you.”
“He is not!” you burst out. You stood up and stalked over to them, the fairytale long forgotten.
“He’s a werewolf.” Your brother spoke in the same tone you’d heard him use when explaining things to Ada; things that one would expect to be obvious.
“He’s also a professor, and has been for years. Nothing’s happened.”
“Maybe not yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”
Your mother emerged from the kitchen, clearly wondering what on earth was going on. Rather than engage herself in the argument, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe.
Remus’s hand searched for yours, entwining his fingers with yours as soon as he found it. You noticed your brother’s gaze fly towards the gesture, as if he feared a more nefarious action. But Remus was simply holding your hand, squeezing gently as if to say, ‘calm down, love.’
“(y/n), get away from him.” Your brother’s order hung in the air like a sword dangling above both your heads, waiting to see who would give in first. Your parents seemed to want to intervene, but you could tell they didn’t know what to do.
“No.”
“Excuse me?!”
“No, I won’t.” You felt like a defiant child arguing with a parent, but that didn’t matter to you. “He’s my husband and I love him. Werewolf or not.”
“It’s okay, darling,” Remus whispered to you, tone low enough that no one else could catch his words.
“What, are you threatening her now?” Your brother was clearly beyond seeing reason, too angry to think logically.
Remus was caught off guard by that accusation, and unfortunately for him, his split second’s hesitation was plain to see. “I merely told her it was okay, that she doesn’t need to fight for my honor.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I am not in the habit of lying. I am an honest man and am telling the truth.” There was a stark contrast between your brother’s wild accusations and Remus’s calm demeanor. You only hoped it would not simply pour more oil onto the fire.
“You’re a monster,” he finally spat, as if the words themselves were pure poison. “How do we know it’s not only a matter of time before you hurt (y/n)?”
That was a low blow and you all knew it. Your mother gasped, hand flying to her mouth in shock.
“I would never hurt her.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t, but what about the wolf?”
Neither of you could answer that, both fully aware he didn’t have that much control over his other half.
“Please excuse me,” Remus muttered, glancing at your parents before grabbing his coat and leaving the building.
“There. Look what you’ve done. That was low and we all know it,” you seethed.
“(y/n), he’s dangerous! He could kill you!”
“So what? So could any other wizard. So could you, or mom. So could Ada, if she were determined enough.” You crossed your arms as you reached deep inside yourself, attempting to maintain your composure.
“But you can trust we won’t.”
“What? I can trust the same of him. He wouldn’t hurt me, I trust him.”
“So you would trust a wolf not to attack?” Your brother took two steps forward, as if his subconscious wanted to intimidate you into losing the argument. Nice try. You weren’t easily intimidated.
“He’s not a wolf! He’s Remus. My husband.”
You saw the surprise on his face when you emphasized your relationship with Remus, and you took that opportunity to continue.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” With that, you stalked out as well, waiting until you disappeared behind the hedge outside to run after Remus.
He probably heard you coming, because you found him standing around the corner, as if he were waiting. The look in his eyes told you he had probably fought with himself to decide whether or not to wait for you to catch up.
“Rem, please ignore what he said. I know it’s hard, but he’s spewing nonsense.”
“Love, are you scared of me?”
“No. Never.” He had barely gotten his words out before you replied, without a moment’s hesitation.
“Your family seems to think you should be.”
“Remus, it doesn’t matter what they think. I love you, and that’s what matters.”
His eyes glistened with unshed tears. He stepped closer to you, cradling your cheek gently, as if he were afraid you’d shatter like glass if he was just slightly too rough with you.
Leaning in slowly, he captured your lips with his in a sweet kiss. And that alone conveyed all he needed to say.
In which Azula finally confronts you about something she’s been meaning to get off her chest.
word count: 950+
A/n: wrote this on a whim but I hope you guys like it!
Prompt: “I know what you want.” “Stop.” “It’s me, isn’t it? Go on, sweetheart. Say it.” “Stop.” “Denying doesn’t help your case much. I can see it in how you look at me.”
