#Quidd

[daily-fnaf-variants]

Day 315

Shadow Toy Freddy from Funko

Y'know of all the possible "shadow" versions of characters, this variant of Toy Freddy and Freddy was not one that I expected to exist. The appearance on the other hand isn't nearly as surprising. It's a quidd variant that means exactly what you'd expect. As for how it compares to fan designs? Of the few that do exist, most are pretty different, usually mimicking Shadow Freddy's design rather than Shadow Bonnie's. Sure it's mildly more creepy, but I doubt that's intentional

[quiddityg]

Save me white boy

White boy save me

Save me

[cleverrpgnamehere]

god I hope Aabria is on candela obscura season 3

[oldmanffucker]

"Remind me your influences here. Because I'm getting….Thelonious Monk and the sound a trash compactor makes when you crawl inside."

[dorstadt]

Wolfenbütteler Schaufenster vom 26. Mai 2024, Ausgabe Wolfenbüttel (Gesamtausgabe), Seite 10

#Wolfenbüttel #Dorstadt #Schladen #Oderwald #KSV #Kreisschützenverband #Kreisdelegiertenversammlung #Schützenverein #Schießsport #Schaufenster #Keye #Grabenhorst #Quidde #Matzuga

[quiddityg]

Also when he visits Georgie and Melanie and while Georgie is scolding Jon for trying to involve Melanie again, the admiral is heard purring and (how I imagine the scene) jon picks up the admiral who's all over him. And when Georgie takes the admiral back, The Admiral is clearly not happy about it. And at that point, jon really wasnt human anymore, and was fully taken by the eye.

I thought that scene was so bitter-sweet, cause like, Georgie is very mad at Jon, and is basically yelling at him to leave her and Melanie alone, and when the eye tells Jon that both Georgie and Melanie are dating, Jon says "I'm sorry, I-, you didn't tell me you two were dating" only for Georgie to say "Yeah, cause it was none of your business!" Meanwhile, Melanie comes by with the admiral sounding drowsy, and surprised by Jon's arrival, and shes clearly sympathetic for Jon, but knows she cant help him in the way hes expecting. And Jon is being defensive and is so bloody desperate for an ally, as everyone in his life are either distant, passed away, or actively making him starve himself.

But the Admiral doesnt understand what's going on, he just saw that his dad came back for a visit and he misses him. And I'm certain the admiral knows Jon isnt human anymore. I mean, cats senses are very heightened, but at the same time, I dont think he cares, cause he knows his dad, and knows his intentions arent harmful.

But yeah, I do think about this a lot lol.

(I also love how in said scene, Georgie and Melanie's usual personalities are almost swapped, where Georgie is usually the level headed and calm person, while Melanie is a lot more violent and angry, but in this scene, we can tell they're still the same, but they've like, rubbed off on eachother, and I think it gives a really cool dimension to the scene and the characters)

remember that time the admiral crawled into Jon's lap, shoved his furry butt in his face, and started purring up a storm because of how much he loved him. and then Jon said "yes, yes, I love you too" and started giving him belly rubs. y'all remember that.

do y'all also remember the horror trope of animals being sensitive to the supernatural and how they would growl/hiss at monsters and inhuman impersonators and whatnot. and how, in a season during which Jon is starting to really struggle with whether he's human or not, the admiral shows him just as much love and demands just as much affection from him as he likely would if jon wasn't getting eye-ified. he's not entirely human anymore but the admiral still demands belly rubs. y'all ever think about that.

[dantelovesvirgil]

Comunque i reel tarocchi e "tu e la tua crush inizierete una relazione alla fine di luglio" NONE AMO THE SHIP IS SAILED IL DADO È TRATTO LA PASTA É SALATA M NE VOC A CAS MO C AVISS PNZAT PRIM ORA É HOT GIRL SUMMER

[nottswitch]

— if you’ve been naughty, you get…

──────────────── 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩. ──

summary: quidditch is a sport that demands strength and stamina, resulting in physical exertion. exertion equals releasing disproportionate amounts of warmth, which, as it turns out, feels better shared.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

cw: 18+ smut, enemies to lovers, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, spanking, choking, degrading, hair grabbing, cursing

wc: 3.1k

a/n: the first fic of the naughty side of the list, so buckle up for the filth!! hope you enjoy <3

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; mattheo m.list ; kinkmas 2024

────────────────────────

The entirety of the Quidditch stadium roared as Harry Potter hovered proudly in the air, the Golden Snitch snug between his fingers. The ultimate rivalry between the houses never ceased to exist, be it on the school grounds or on the pitch, the students from other houses having chosen a side long ago and now discreetly passing galleons to each other in the stands. You craned your neck a bit, your loosely tied scarf sliding off as you watched the players descend onto the ground, the green and silver side clearly trying to get off the pitch as hastily as possible.

Mattheo was, for all intents and purposes, pissed. His nostrils were flared, his breath coming out short and ragged, the exertion from the long-winded game straining his aching muscles. His bat was clutched tightly in his hand, his knuckles almost translucent as he fought the urge to swing it at the annoyingly smug Gryffindors who seemed to be very purposeful with the loudness of their celebrations. A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth – the opportunity was too golden, no pun intended, to have a go at the guy, even though you knew that now, of all times, he wouldn’t dream of holding back. It was a constant push and pull between the two of you, a burning need to kick the other while they were down, and a loss of a very important game was a chance presenting itself on a silver platter.

"Hey, Riddle!"

The sound of your voice made Mattheo grit his teeth, the vibration echoing in his already ringing ears. His eyes briefly darted to you descending the stairs from the top of the stands, the look in them as close to murderous as it can possibly get.

"Don’t," he muttered, continuing to stride across the field, towards the tunnel, where the other players from the Slytherin team had already disappeared.

"Don’t what?"

Your voice was clearly taunting as you approached him, your arms crossing on your chest as you fixed him with a smirk. Unconsciously, your gaze slid down his body, taking in the sight of his Quidditch jersey clinging to him, damp with sweat and accentuating the ridges of his toned abs. You licked your lips, the action coming out of your subconsciousness that craved to feel those abs underneath your palms, although you had yet to admit it.

"Don’t fucking try me right now," Mattheo retorted without sparing you a glance. He was already more than a little aggravated, and the last thing he needed was your teasing and endless quips, combined with the effortless allure you always held despite being an insufferable little cunt. His uniform suddenly felt too tight, which prompted him to take off the green jersey, harshly tugging it over his head with one hand.

Your lips parted ever so slightly as you watched his torso opening up to you in all its firm, built glory. But the muscles weren’t the first thing that you noticed – as much as the view was enticing, it was also not completely new. No, the thing that made your breath hitch was the fact that he was literally steaming, as if he had just left a sauna. Translucent whirls were emanating from his heated body, his skin breaking out in goosebumps in the chilly December air. Mattheo didn’t even shiver, throwing the piece of clothing over his shoulder and flicking the bat from one hand to the other. His pace was firm and purposeful, leaving no doubts about his intentions to leave the Quidditch pitch as quickly as possible.

You had entirely different plans for him, though.

Without thinking much, you followed him into the tunnel leading out of the stadium, barely able to match his long steps.

“Or what?” you called out defiantly, finally reaching him at the price of your breath getting shallow and your heart beating faster than normal. You weren’t one hundred percent sure it was just the effect of walking quickly.

Mattheo stopped in his tracks, nearly making you stumble into his broad back. His eyes closed shut for a moment, his chest heaving as he took a deep breath, feeling his already nonexistent control slipping away with every single sound of yours he heard behind him.

“You will regret it,” he muttered through gritted teeth, not making a move to turn around to look at you – he knew that if he did, he could say goodbye to any traces of restraint still left in him.

“Oh, really?”

You knew you were walking a dangerous line by taunting him like that, but at this point, you couldn’t stop. Was it a sudden surge of bravery, was it recklessness or something else, deeper and yet uncharted, you couldn’t tell. You just knew that if you stopped right now – that was what you’d regret for a long, long time, possibly for the rest of your life. You stepped closer, your chest almost pressing against his back, feeling his muscles tense as your proximity registered in his mind and sent signals through his whole body.

That step was all it took for him to finally snap. In a split second, his hand was wrapped around your throat, pressing you against the wall of the tunnel. A strangled gasp escaped your parted lips, your pulse fluttering wildly as his fingers pressed right on the point, curling around your neck as if he was ready to snap it in half. He probably could, if he wanted to.

“Say another word and find out,” Mattheo hissed, the warm air of his breath brushing against your flushed face. His already dark chocolate eyes darkened further – you swore you could see his pupils dilating in real time, the dimness inside the tunnel failing to hide the mixture of anger and lust swirling in their depths.

“I’m not scared of you,” you whispered, your voice quiet but filled with a strange type of determination. Whatever was happening was something completely new in your dynamic, yet it felt like it had been building up the whole time you spent bickering and trying to get to each other using the power of biting words.

Mattheo’s hold grew tighter around your throat, almost cutting off the stream of much needed air flowing into your lungs.

“You should be.”

A loud thud echoed through the tunnel as his bat hit the floor, thrown away and immediately forgotten about. His newly freed hand gripped your waist, pressing you harder into the wall, the coldness of the surface seeping through the fabric of your winter robes. Mattheo’s body was flush against your front, creating a sharp contrast between the chill of the air surrounding you and his fired up skin, dampening your shirt with small rivulets of sweat dripping off him.

You swallowed thickly, unable to tear your gaze off his face, his dangerously handsome features tense and barely moving. You had no idea what to do with your hands, so they ended up on his bare chest without any real input from your mind, which, you could tell, was slowly turning off anyway. A hiss coming from him once your skin touched his was a surprise, but you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy his reaction. For some reason, you found yourself bold enough to try exploring this newfound knowledge, sliding your hand down his chest, along the firm planes and ridges. Two things happened at the same time: Mattheo’s fingers dug deeper into the sides of your throat, causing a strangled sound to escape your lips, while his other hand left your waist to grab your traveling wrist.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re doing right now,” Mattheo muttered, and you swore you could hear his teeth grinding against each other. “I’ll show you, though. I’ll fucking show you.”

Next thing you knew, you were lifted off the ground, stuck in the iron bars of his embrace. The instinct in you that still tried to persuade you that this whole thing was wrong made your dangling feet try to hit Mattheo’s knee. This weak attempt at defiance was quickly stopped by his arm moving down and tightly locking around your thighs, stopping your legs from moving altogether.

“Asshole.” You did hear the treacherous breathlessness of your voice, but also didn’t have it in you to care. The heat between your legs was rapidly intensifying, the friction created by your pressed up thighs only making you more desperate for something real, something substantial to quench your undeniable thirst.

A dark smirk appeared on Mattheo’s face, the one that did nothing to soften his expression – it only made him look more like the devil he appeared to be. A second later, his foot was pushing a door you didn’t even know was there, doing the same from the other side once he walked into a dark room that smelled like wood and broom polish. You didn’t have time to think or formulate a snarky response to his actions before you were getting turned around and bent over, Mattheo’s hand pressing insistently on the back of your neck. You barely had time to stabilize yourself against the cold wooden bench that stood at the wall, your scarf sliding off completely and falling to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, although it was more of a formality, since you made no actual attempt to get up from the new position. Mattheo, of course, took notice of that, his smirk widening a bit.

“This the only thing you can think of?” His voice was cold and mocking at the same time, not failing to send a shiver down your spine – it was huskier than usual, an undertone of desire obvious even to untrained ears. Mattheo effortlessly lifted up the hem of your robes, the rumpled fabric of your skirt splayed across your ass in a way he found sinful. “Where’s the smartass attitude, hm?”

A sharp smack landed on your ass, stinging even through several layers of clothing. Your body jolted forward, a yelp breaking out of your throat both at the unexpectedness of it and a wave of pleasure the smack sent straight between your legs. Mattheo found himself enjoying your reaction, his hand coming up to rest on your hip, fingers curling and pressing into the flesh.

“Fuck y-,” you started to mutter, glancing at him over your shoulder, but another smack shut you up pretty quickly. You could feel the sting, only intensified when his strong hand grabbed a handful of your ass, roughly kneading and squeezing.

“Much better from this angle,” Mattheo murmured, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek as his eyes shamelessly roamed your body up and down. His free hand slid up your back, pushing you to lean further down against the bench until he reached your hair. His fingers threaded through your locks in an almost tender gesture, one so uncharacteristic of Mattheo Riddle, before he yanked your head back, making you hiss from the harshness of the pull.

The warmth of his body enveloped you whole as Mattheo bent over, his flaming chest covering the entirety of your back. A fleeting thought flickered in your mind, that even the warmest robes couldn’t hold a candle to the human heater that was Mattheo after a Quidditch game. As his mouth neared your ear, his hand never stilled on your ass, lifting your skirt up to bunch up at your waist and running over the fabric of your tights.

“Really?” he asked, mockingly, making you want to strangle him and kiss the hell out of him at the same time. Your lips parted when you felt his sneaky fingers pressing between your legs, causing your thighs to clench. “D’you know I can feel you getting wet?” he cooed, brushing his lips against your ear, you were sure, very deliberately. You closed your eyes, unwanted embarrassment making its way to your cheeks, and you just knew the bastard was smirking again. You couldn’t control your body’s reaction to him, though, and your wetness seeping through your tights fully gave you away.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought your smartass mouth could handle better than that.”

Mattheo gave your hair another tug before his hand slipped down, curling around your throat again. His grip was tight, not allowing even a single millimeter of movement, a strangled gasp escaping you once you felt his hips pressing to your ass from the back. His hard-on was firmly planted between your cheeks, straining against his Quidditch trousers, as if he was trying to break through the layers of your clothing.

“But when I’m next to you,” Mattheo continued murmuring into your ear, a malicious smirk giving his words a dangerous hint, “you’re just a bitch in heat.”

“Fuck. You.”

You somehow managed to find words, the ones you couldn’t bring yourself to say before. Mattheo chuckled darkly, feeling your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his thumb – you really weren’t the best in hiding your deepest emotions, though your face still tried to keep its defiant stance.

“That’s the plan,” he answered, as his fingers moved against your covered pussy, the sound of it, though muffled, still embarrassingly wet. Once his torturous movements stopped, you nearly whined, biting your bottom lip in order to save yourself from further humiliation. Your teeth sunken into your lip didn’t go unnoticed – Mattheo licked his own, his hand on your throat lifting you up just a bit, his body heat a fire burning your back.

“Didn’t know having you speechless would be so…” Another smack on your ass interrupted his words, a squeal caused by the mixture of pain and pleasure sounding through the dark room. “…so fucking hot.”

You gained the courage to push your hips back, a satisfied hum rolling out of your mouth as you felt his cock twitch at the friction.

“So damn impatient,” Mattheo whispered into your ear. His own hips bucked forward, forcefully, enough to make your body jerk again. “But you’re lucky, because…”

He suddenly straightened up, roughly pulling down your tights and baring your skin to the chilly air. It was already stinging from the previous slaps, the sensation now stronger as the frost of early winter bit at the sensitive flesh.

“…me too.”

You didn’t notice the moment Mattheo’s trousers pooled at his feet, but they definitely did, along with his boxers. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head when his warm, slicked up cock slid through your folds, making you feel every inch of him, providing the friction you desperately craved. Your entrance clenched, as if trying to suck him in but failing. His tip prodded at your hole, your whole body backing against him in an attempt to finally let him inside.

You didn’t have to wait – a single deep thrust, and he was splitting you open in the best, most mind blowing way possible. Your high-pitched moan was so loud it could be easily heard outside, but you didn’t care – you couldn’t care. Mattheo’s groan matched up in volume, his hands gripping your hips with brushing strength.

“If I knew you’d be so fucking tight…”

He pulled out only to thrust right back in, making you moan so loudly you could feel the air shake around you.

“…I’d shut you up like that every. Single. Time.”

Each word was accompanied by another thrust, each one deeper than the last, even though it was physically impossible – at least you felt like he discovered new depths within you every time. The squelching sounds of your pussy roughly meeting his dick echoed through the narrow space you were squished into, the slapping of your bodies surely making its way into the tunnel behind the door. It was something you’d never felt before – the passion, the lust filling your very essence, consuming and turning your brain into mush.

Mattheo’s palm connected with your asscheek again, making it bounce and ripple. Immediately after, he squeezed the round mound, and you hissed, another sting shooting through your body. His pace was unforgiving, but you didn’t want to be forgiven – if that was punishment, you’d rather be guilty for life. The stretch of your walls around his cock felt like it was tearing you apart and gathering you back in one piece right after, and at that moment you were sure that no one else could fuck you like that.

His hand ended up in your hair again as he tugged you up, making your back press against his chest again. Somehow, it was still just as hot as before, causing you to break out in sweat from the exertion and his body heat seeping through your skin and bones. If the room had windows, they would certainly be fogged up. However, the only foggy thing was your mind, getting more and more dazed as your peak approached.

“You wanna cum, huh?” Mattheo growled, his laboured breath prickling at the sensitive skin of your neck. “Wanna cum on my cock, like the slut you are?”

As much as you hated yourself for admitting that, cumming around him was the only thing swirling in your head. You tried to nod, but his grip on your hair didn’t allow it.

“Words,” he muttered, his teeth clenching as he tried to hold his own orgasm back, determined to make you fall apart first. “The only time I want you to use your fucking words.”

“I wanna– Fuck! Wanna cum on your cock,” you managed to mumble, your cheeks heating up at the fact that you had just given in, had given him control over the pleasure you yearned for.

“Do it, then.”

With another rough slap on your ass, you came, wave after wave making your body tremble and shake. Mattheo was quick to finish right after, his growl bordering on animalistic as he spilled deep inside of you. The warmth of his cum felt like it was etched into your very soul, hot and sticky, your clenching hole squeezing some out to trickle down your thighs. Mattheo could get hard all over again just from the sight alone, but he resisted, pulling your skirt down to cover the delicious view.

For a few moments, you could only try catching your breath, leaning on the bench still somehow holding up in front of you.

“Next time you lose, you know where to find me.” Your voice was shaking, yet already filled with the cockiness of knowing that you, in some way, made Mattheo Riddle lose control.

“Next time I win, you won’t be able to walk for days,” he retorted, his tone bearing something akin to a threat. Or a promise.

[daily-fnaf-variants]

Day 304

Shadow Springtrap from Funko

While there is still some variety, I'm almost surprised at how similar a lot of fanmade stuff is to this variation of Springtrap and Bonnie. Aside from the occasional purple shadow version, Funko hit the mark(or at least got fairly close for once) this time on quidd. Hell, the only issue I have is just the shadow set as a whole. But I suppose this consistency comes with the nature of Springtrap. The only other variants he has are either too small to be a viable alternative(Plushtrap) or started existing when these kind of fanmade variants started dying down(Scraptrap and Burntrap)

I suppose there's Spring Bonnie, but that one isn't going to get lumped in with Springtrap the way- say, a Shadow Nightmare Foxy would just get called Shadow Foxy

[quiddityg]

No cause it enrages me when people use that as an argument for AI generated art. PLEASE BRO, BAD ART IS BETTER THAN AI ART!!!

My old cringy furry ocs I made when I was 10 hold better water than big titty woman who have 32 fingers on one hand and no soul.

Art has forever been a staple of humanity, and to assume artificial intelligence can withhold the human experience of artistic expression is beyond bullshit, and discredits us as a species. Sure it's a scientific revaluation, but THAT DOESNT MEAN YOU CAN FUCKIN DISCREDIT ARTISTS USING IT!?!? AUGH!!!

And if I dont onky mean digital artists, but also writers, and musicians, yk, artists.

Anyway, fuck ai art right in the ass.

"ai is making it so everyone can make art" Everyone can make art dipshit it came free with your fucking humanity

[quiddityg]

Being a fan of tf2 when your gay and trans is evil cause i look at these mfs and I'm like why do I want/want to be all of these mfs??!??

[cleverrpgnamehere]

gonna need @quiddie and Brennan to play a madly in love battle couple next time they're both players at a table because their energy is 💯

[urauntiefaye]

slytherin!quidditch player!leehan when you mocked him for losing the match against gryffindor

Slytherin!Leehan Oneshot🧙🏻‍♂️🌸

WC: 1142

TW: Kissing, Enemies to lovers, Didn't say readers house I don't think, but low-key implied to be Hufflepuff?. Not proof Read, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ngl the ending got a little sloppy and rushed because I just didn't know how to end this.

You weren’t even a Gryffindor yourself, in fact you found most Gryffindors annoying with how they always howled out loud in the hallways and in the dinner hall. Always running around acting like their hot shit. So you cheering for Gryffindor during this quidditch match didn’t even really make sense. Honestly you being at the Quidditch match didn’t make sense in the first place considering this was a Slytherin vs Gryffindor match. Quite literally the only reason you’re here is because your best friend has a fat ass crush on the Gryffindor boy Jaehyun.

On the contrary though, no matter how much you didn’t like Gryffindor, it didn’t nearly match the burning hatred you had for a very certain Slytherin named Leehan. You typically didn’t have any issues with Slytherins, always kind of just co-existed with each other. But it seemed that the universe had other plans for you.

It all started in potions class, professor Slughorn had all of you form into groups of three to prepare the Draught of Peace potion. What Slughorn hadn’t taken into consideration was that two students would conveniently be left out. Both you and Leehan not having a group to join were forced to partner up together. Which you originally had no problem with, until Leehan decided to make you do all of the work while he napped and when it came to the show n’ tell part he took all of the credit.

Yes, you could’ve let this go, you really could’ve. But the stupid fucking look on his face pissed you off, he looked so calm and neutral during the whole thing. As if it was no big deal!?, the sheer audacity this man had.

But you held your tongue and decided to calmly confront Leehan about the situation, hell maybe it was just a misunderstanding?...It was not, when you approached Leehan in the dining hall and asked him about it, he just stared at you and asked why it mattered, you both got the credit anyways. He acted as if he didn’t care, and that’s what upset you the most about him. He never showed much emotion, always having a bored expression. Which was the complete opposite of you, you always felt every emotion to its fullest, you were practically built to have the inability to just not care unlike Leehan.

However, Leehan despite his cool exterior he had found an interest in you. He was intrigued with how much you expressed yourself, always showcasing what you felt. Leehan had grown up in a family where showing any sign of emotion was for the weak. His father told him at a young age “never let others know how you feel, they will use it to control you”. So he often found himself purposely doing things to you to invoke any kind of reaction; from making you do his homework, stealing your food, and even pulling harmless pranks on you was worth it. What made him even more enthralled was that you never really yelled at him, only lectured him. But even your lecturing was nothing compared to what he’s used to from his family. It was odd to say the least, but what got his blood really pumping was when he just so happened to stumble across you helping the bowtruckles cross over the lake without being washed away. The way the sun shined on you, causing a halo like effect surrounding you, the way your lips formed in the most beautiful enchanting smile he’s ever seen. Not to mention how gently you spoke and praised them, your voice sounding the way honey coated around sweet almonds with each “good job” and “you’re doing amazing”. He didn’t know what it was or even why, but he had to hear you speak to him like that, he needed you too.

When he overheard that you would be attending the quidditch match he was overjoyed. He beamed at the thought of you being there as it was an opportunity to hear you applaud him and tell him that he was amazing and did an excellent job. Leehan however failed to take into consideration the possibility of his team losing. He was embarrassed, it wasn’t even a close match, a ten-fifty score. What didn’t help was when he looked at you after the announcement that Gryffindor had won he saw you laughing. You were happy that he lost? You found joy through his failure. Leehan was pissed, not being able to take the image of you jumping up and down with your friend as you both smiled with such an elated expression.

Practically knocking over some of his own teammates as he didn’t even bother going to the locker rooms to get change. Instead making a B-line directly to you, his face unreadable as you looked up at him with confusion wondering what he wanted. Not even thinking he would grab your wrist and drag you away from your friends. Putting up a fight you would try to pry his hand off your wrist which to no avail did nothing. Eventually giving up you stopped your little antics, coming to the realization that he wasn’t going to let you go. Opting to just follow him in silence as he leads you to the astronomy tower. It was only then when you arrived that he let your wrist go, however not giving you much time he pushed you against the nearest wall. His face is only centimeters from you. “Enjoy your fun?” He'd ask in a low voice, send shivers throughout your body. “Wh-what do you mean?” Asking him nervously, your eyes looking anywhere but his face. Locking them on his collar bones thinking it was the safest option. His hand wrapped around your jaw, slightly squeezing as he made you look at him. “Don't act dumb, I saw you laughing with your stupid friend”, gulping at his actions but also the fact that he saw you. Not knowing how to respond, you just stood there. He won't let you go, his stare so intense but with something you never saw before. Next thing you knew his lips were in yours. They were cold from the nip air, and a little wet. Your eyes widened as you didn't expect him to kiss you. But something else is telling you to kiss him back. Your lips molding into his, resting your hands on his chest. Pulling ever so slightly, lips still grazing against your as he spoke. “Don't ever cheer for Gryffindor again” not giving you time to respond he'd pull you by the back of your neck into a kiss again. This time passionate, his tongue even slipping past your lips gliding against your wet muscle.

It was at this moment, this night, that you never cheered for Gryffindor or laughed at him ever again.

[quiddityg]

Well the fascists have the outfits

And we dont care for the outfits

What we care about is the music

Well the communists have the music...

transphobic music fans be listening to he or she might be giants

[lulublack90]

Prompt 7 - The Quidditch Locker Room

@wolfstarmicrofic November 7, word count 428

CW- Blood, Open Wounds

Previous part First part

Sirius’s breath flew out of him in a flurry of bubbles as he screamed in shock as he was pulled into the pool. He felt Remus’s massive body beside him and tried to grab him with his free hand, but Remus had the same idea. His claws bit into Sirius’s arms as he cut deep furrows into his skin. As soon as Remus realised what he was doing, he stopped, and Sirius grabbed him. 

He felt himself drifting. He was unsure if it was a lack of oxygen or blood, but he felt like if they didn’t stop soon, he wasn’t going to make it.

They broke the surface, and Sirius was flung high into the air. He landed on a solid surface. He coughed, and water spilt out of his mouth, he rolled over and let the water spill from his lips. 

“Remus?” He croaked. “Remus?” A weak whine let him know the Grim had landed with him. 

He tried to get to his feet and slipped on the slick tiles. He tried again, this time more carefully, and looked around the bright white room. 

Remus lay in a heap to his left and beside him was a large drain with its cover blown off. “Eww, did we really come out of the drain?” He grimaced. That’s when the pain hit. He looked down at the tattered coat Hagrid had given him and saw the damage Remus’s razor-sharp claws had done. He lifted his right hand and slowly moved it along his left forearm. It took a lot of power, but slowly the wounds began to close. He copied the movement on the other arm, feeling better once he’d healed himself, and went to help Remus. 

He managed to get the giant beast on his feet and looked around the room again. The bright white light had dimmed some, and now he could make out benches and cubbies. A locker room, he thought. He had no idea why they’d been left here. He highly doubted it was the place Remus was going to change back. 

He moved to check the cubbies just in case, but all he found was a few bits of graffiti. Someone had scratched Quidd into the base of one. Sirius shook his head at the incorrect spelling, and someone else had written itch beside it. This locker room clearly had deep thinkers using it. 

There was a door on the wall behind him. It opened when he pulled it. “Come on, let's see where this leads," and they left the ‘Quidditch Locker Room’.  

Next part

[itsalmostavengers]

Thepartyresponsible nanasekei Quidd you will Always be famous