girlyidek

And it’s about riddle!reader who like grew up with the Maurerders but everyone hated and abused her, she eventually gets framed for some crime, goes to Azkaban where she’s abused more, but eventually she’s proven innocent and falls in love with Bill

summary: art is quick to take patrick's advice when you get mad at him for something he thinks is silly, but it doesn't seem to be doing the trick. wc: 1.4k+ cw: silly argument but they're not really arguing, art tries flattery, stubborn!reader, kissing, suggestive

Art isn’t ever this touchy with you, which is unfortunate given how angry you are with him. You huff unhappily, squirming when he doesn’t remove his hands from your waist. Art takes another step closer to you, pressing his chest to your back, his arms caressing your sides. He ducks his face down, pressing a kiss to your neck. He hears your dissatisfied sigh, and you step away from your boyfriend, turning to look at him with an unhappy furrow between your brow. Art swallows thickly, ready to stop bothering you and accept that you’re going to need your space before he can try apologising again. He exhales, fingers twitching at your side, but when he glances up across the room, he catches Patrick’s eyes.

“Man, she just needs to know that you love her and that you won’t give up on her. She’s going to fold like nothing else if you just show her how much you want her - give her a few kisses.”

So instead, Art moves his hands on your waist to spin you around so you're facing him, then intertwines his fingers with yours, tugging you towards him. You sigh, and Art softens his eyes in that way he knows you’re weak for. “Come on baby,” He begins, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. He feels you stiffen, but presses another kiss to your face before continuing “let’s just have a good time tonight, and if you really want to, you can go back to being mad at me later.”

When you don’t respond, Art trails his hands back up to your waist, wrapping his arms around you. “I know what you’re doing, Art.” You say, and your boyfriend’s breath hitches nervously as his body goes still. “Just because other people are around, doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being mad at you. There’s consequences to your actions, you know?”

Art nods, and it’s in that moment that he decides to abandon his suave manners. “Okay, come on, I think we need to talk, baby.” You scoff at Art’s words, but you let him pull you outside by the hand. At least with less people around, you can make more of a scene. You lean your back against the wall of the backyard, crossing your arms over your chest. “Okay, talk.”

“Look, I don’t just want you to stop being mad at me because people are around, I want you to stop being mad at me because I’m sorry! I’m sorry, and I apologised, and I genuinely mean it, so I don’t understand why you won’t accept my apology” Art brings his hands up to rest on your biceps, eyebrows furrowed. “I won’t accept your apology because I’m still mad! You can apologise, but it doesn’t change how I feel and it’s not fair if I just accept your apology and still ignore you for the rest of the night!”

Art’s chest deflates in a horrible feeling of guilt, but he still steps closer to you. “You’re not gonna let me kiss that anger away?” He asks, and you stubbornly shake your head.

Patrick made this sound way easier than it is, Art thinks, but he supposes Patrick has had more women angry at him for even sillier things.

He didn’t realise that speaking to some girls at the training centre would make you angry just because his shirt was off. But apparently you thought they were ‘ogling’ and Art shouldn’t be around other women at all, let alone in his sweaty, shirtless state.

Art lowers his face down, nudging the side of your nose with his. “You just wanna stay mad, don’t you?” He mumbles, smiling when you shake your head again. “So you won’t mind if I kiss you?” He asks, angling his lips towards yours when you don’t answer. You don’t move to connect your lips, so he takes liberty of doing so himself. He feels your stiff posture begin to loosen, but your lips are unmoving against his, so he pulls back, muttering “Don’t be like that. You know I only have eyes for my future wife.”

Again, Art doesn’t get a response from you, so instead he just reconnects his lips to yours. He can’t help but smile a little into the kiss when you completely melt against him this time, uncrossing your arms so you can place your hands on your boyfriend’s chest. Art hums into the kiss when you move your lips against his, one hand coming up to play with his hair. Art presses you harder against the wall, a groan leaving his chest when a small noise of pleasure leaves you. You don’t like fighting with Art, even if he’s the one in the wrong, but you need him to prove that he’ll fight for you.

Your lips separate when Art pulls away to see the expression on your face. He can’t make out what you’re feeling, so he cups your face in one of his large hands, thumb swiping up to wipe saliva off the bottom of your lip. He watches as your eyes flicker down to his hand, then back up to meet his gaze. “You gonna tell me what’s going through your head?”

“Don’t take Patrick’s advice again.” You order, and Art’s face goes bright red. “You’re smart enough to figure things out yourself.”

Art swallows thickly, subconsciously glancing into the house despite the windows being reflective, so he can only see the way you’ve both pressed up against each other by the wall. “Did - how do you know?”

“Tashi told me.” You tell him, playing with his hair. Art nods. Of course Tashi told you because of course she was secretly listening to the conversation he was having with Patrick when she pretended to be busy and uninterested. “I won’t listen to him.” He reassures you, gasping quietly when you slip a hand under his shirt, resting it on his abdomen. “And you’ll take me back to yours after this, right?” Art nods early, pecking your lips quickly and whispering against them “I can take you back to mine right now.”

The little giggle that leaves you surprises Art, who straightens up to look down at you properly. You bring both your hands to his chest, leaving his hair a mess so you can softly push him away from you. His wide eyes amuse you, and he desperately grasps one of your hands in his when you begin leading him back into the house party, telling him “I think we still deserve to have fun before I spend the rest of the night staring at your abs.”

You let go of Art’s hand the second you’re back in the house, already finding Tashi across the room, and leaving him to drag his feet to where Patrick stands alone with a beer. He can only think about what you mean when you say you’re going to spend the night staring at his abs, and he feels his trousers uncomfortably tighten at the thought of you perched on his lap as he lays back shirtless on his bed, your hands on his abdomen as you trace the lines on his chest. He can vividly imagine the smile on your face as you lean down, pressing kisses to his neck, then down his chest and tummy before finally hooking your fingers in the band of his boxers and pulling them down.

Art shudders as he reaches Patrick, and his friend slaps a hand onto his shoulder, gripping him there and shaking him. Art groans, uncomfortably shifting. He shouldn’t have let his mind wander because now the rest of the party is going to feel like hell.

“She kiss you a little too good out there?” Patrick asks, and Art nods, leaning against the table next to him. “Tashi told her, by the way.” He adds, letting his eyes blink shut momentarily.

“Oh yeah, I was counting on it.” Art’s eyes snap open and he turns to look at his best friend with a look of utter confusion. Patrick waves his hand in dismissal, nodding his head in a direction for Art to follow. Art frowns when it just leads to you across the room, talking animatedly to Tashi. Fuck, he didn’t even realise you looked so good tonight when he was fighting for his life.

“Okay, have fun.” Art tells Patrick, beelining in your direction with no other explanation. Patrick watches as Art immediately strings an arm around your waist, tugging you away from Tashi, who raises her eyebrows at him. He doesn’t say much to her — only what looks like an apology — before quickly dragging you out of the house. Yeah, he could really spend a night of you staring his abs. At when that’s over, he’ll worship you for an eternity.

peace and love to everyone but that did nawt happen BUT I’m in exams now and very willing to have a reason to procrastinate

Pairing - Poly!Moonwater x reader

This if my first ever poly piece so let me know if you like it. Requested by @alittlechaotics-blog so I hope you enjoy! ☺️

Your boys are so pathetically in love with you.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Rem, you can’t even see me!”

A long sigh followed the accusation, as well as a, “which is currently a big issue for me,” and then a trail of giggles from you.

For a month the three of you had been dying to get some one on one time, some quiet time, a break from it all. It had been weeks since you’d all shared a bed together for a full night or even eaten dinner as a group. And it wasn’t for lack of trying either. Multiple times there had been dates in the diaries, heels on feet and at the last minutes something, anything, had popped up.

First it was missions. Hundreds of them. Day and night. Too many really. By the time any of you had gotten back from a mission, the idea of getting dressed up and going out again sounded frankly disgusting. If anything, they seemed to drain the intimacy out of a person, too grossed out by whatever horrors they’d just seen.

Then it was Regulus’s ‘bloody brother’. Since escaping the hell hole that housed the screaming matriarch of the Black family, both brothers had become increasingly close. Which seemed, for your relationship, both a blessing and a curse. Whilst it did mean Regulus had become much more affectionate, it also meant that there were other things to organise. Namely, Sirius. By his orders, the two of them had to spend at least one night together a week. No cancellations (or else). On numerous occasions it had been pointed out that that was more time than both you and Remus got with Regulus. Combined. This objection was merely shrugged off with a “well, I guess that’s a you problem,”.

So now, as you took a final glance in the mirror, you really couldn’t blame Remus for being quite so desperate to get the evening started. You could see that to him, once the night started it could not, would not, be stopped. Frankly, you agreed. That hadn’t stopped you however, from taking the extra few minutes to make sure neither of the boys had seen you get ready. Which really was quite cruel of you, seeing as that part of the night had often been described as their ‘absolute favourite’.

But now, you thought, it should have been worth it. You stood in front of the floor length mirror dressed in the same dress you had worn on your first ever date with them. Although it had obviously become slightly snug at the hips (nothing a quick charm won’t fix), it still held the same charm, the same romance. It held memories of that night, although definitely not perfect, still wonderful, still yours.

You could shuffles coming from behind the door, as well as some overly dramatic sighs, before a new pair of footsteps made their way to the hallway with a groan.

“Would you quit huffing and puffing and just open the door?” came the disgruntled drone of your more impatient boyfriend.

“She might be changing, Reg. I don’t want to interrupt the process!”

A brief pause echoed between them, followed by a sigh and the words, “You’ve seen her less than naked more than a million times, Remus. Now is not the time to get shy.”.

Then a light knock sounded at the door and searching grey eyes found their way to your delicate frame. The question of ‘Are you nearly ready?’ seemed to just die on his lips as they parted to take in your figure. A rush of air flooded from his mouth, soon breathing in your ethereal beauty, your winning smile.

He was soon pushed aside by your honey coloured boyfriend, desperate to get a glimpse of the show. Golden eyes drooping in comfort as he took you in. Honestly, it was all quite pathetic and that’s why you loved it.

No words were spoken for a few seconds, and then Remus took a step forward, rested his hands upon your face and breathed out, ‘I knew you’d be pretty.’.

Inspired by a lot of such *chalk pastel tattoos on paper* images from Pinterest. I have always wanted to create something similar and use it for my Blog theme but the ideas didn't hit this hard earlier, *SIGH*...maybe Next theme😮‍💨🤞🏻 So, finally some dividers with the same chalky-pastel-galactic designs 😌💕

I, me, myself am in love with how these turned out 😭🤞🏻

Feedback is appreciated always🫶🏻

IMPORTANT : If you use these dividers please tag @uzmacchiato for credit in the post you use it.

➡️ 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ✨

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THEMED LINES :

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Please don't use without providing credit to the account mentioned above.

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In honour of me getting back into writing (or merely to get back into writing) let’s have some fun!

Here’s a list of characters:

Sirius Black

James Potter

Remus Lupin

Marlene McKinnon

Regulus Black

Barty Crouch Jr

Evan Rosier

Lily Evans

Fred/George Weasley

Ron Weasley

Harry Potter

Ginny Weasley

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

And here’s a link to a list of gorgeous tropes:

blossoming romance tropes

All you have to do is pick one from each list and send them into me or leave them in the comments! I’ll write you a hopefully cute and satisfactory 500 word blurb for them 🥰🥰🍓

If you don’t feel like joining in but you are up for a read through then have a little look at the #girlysgametime and you can read all the fics from these games!

Pairing - Poly!Moonwater x reader

This if my first ever poly piece so let me know if you like it. Requested by @alittlechaotics-blog so I hope you enjoy! ☺️

Your boys are so pathetically in love with you.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Rem, you can’t even see me!”

A long sigh followed the accusation, as well as a, “which is currently a big issue for me,” and then a trail of giggles from you.

For a month the three of you had been dying to get some one on one time, some quiet time, a break from it all. It had been weeks since you’d all shared a bed together for a full night or even eaten dinner as a group. And it wasn’t for lack of trying either. Multiple times there had been dates in the diaries, heels on feet and at the last minutes something, anything, had popped up.

First it was missions. Hundreds of them. Day and night. Too many really. By the time any of you had gotten back from a mission, the idea of getting dressed up and going out again sounded frankly disgusting. If anything, they seemed to drain the intimacy out of a person, too grossed out by whatever horrors they’d just seen.

Then it was Regulus’s ‘bloody brother’. Since escaping the hell hole that housed the screaming matriarch of the Black family, both brothers had become increasingly close. Which seemed, for your relationship, both a blessing and a curse. Whilst it did mean Regulus had become much more affectionate, it also meant that there were other things to organise. Namely, Sirius. By his orders, the two of them had to spend at least one night together a week. No cancellations (or else). On numerous occasions it had been pointed out that that was more time than both you and Remus got with Regulus. Combined. This objection was merely shrugged off with a “well, I guess that’s a you problem,”.

So now, as you took a final glance in the mirror, you really couldn’t blame Remus for being quite so desperate to get the evening started. You could see that to him, once the night started it could not, would not, be stopped. Frankly, you agreed. That hadn’t stopped you however, from taking the extra few minutes to make sure neither of the boys had seen you get ready. Which really was quite cruel of you, seeing as that part of the night had often been described as their ‘absolute favourite’.

But now, you thought, it should have been worth it. You stood in front of the floor length mirror dressed in the same dress you had worn on your first ever date with them. Although it had obviously become slightly snug at the hips (nothing a quick charm won’t fix), it still held the same charm, the same romance. It held memories of that night, although definitely not perfect, still wonderful, still yours.

You could shuffles coming from behind the door, as well as some overly dramatic sighs, before a new pair of footsteps made their way to the hallway with a groan.

“Would you quit huffing and puffing and just open the door?” came the disgruntled drone of your more impatient boyfriend.

“She might be changing, Reg. I don’t want to interrupt the process!”

A brief pause echoed between them, followed by a sigh and the words, “You’ve seen her less than naked more than a million times, Remus. Now is not the time to get shy.”.

Then a light knock sounded at the door and searching grey eyes found their way to your delicate frame. The question of ‘Are you nearly ready?’ seemed to just die on his lips as they parted to take in your figure. A rush of air flooded from his mouth, soon breathing in your ethereal beauty, your winning smile.

He was soon pushed aside by your honey coloured boyfriend, desperate to get a glimpse of the show. Golden eyes drooping in comfort as he took you in. Honestly, it was all quite pathetic and that’s why you loved it.

No words were spoken for a few seconds, and then Remus took a step forward, rested his hands upon your face and breathed out, ‘I knew you’d be pretty.’.

I am a writer. Not a content-producing machine. I am a writer. Not a content-producing machine. I am a writer. Not a content-producing machine.

It’s okay if I don’t have time to write. It’s okay if a chapter is delayed. It’s okay if my words come out messy. It’s okay if I need to take a break. It’s okay if I don’t update every week, every month, or even every year.

My value as a writer is not measured by how fast I post. My worth is not defined by kudos, bookmarks, or comments.

I am allowed to be slow. I am allowed to rest. I am allowed to write for joy, not for an algorithm.

I am a writer. Not a content-producing machine.