#and infuse it with my love 🤍🤍🤍🤍

[00nutritionalvalue]

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[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x girlfriend fem!reader

Summary: You want to help your boyfriend with his prank but it goes horribly wrong (happy ending)

Prompt: angst - "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done."

thank you for requesting @doting-dov3 🤍! this did indeed help with writers block ;)

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

James takes his pranks very seriously. 

You know this, his best friends know this, hell all of Hogwarts knows this. Usually, he keeps you separate from his pranks because he knows you aren't into them that much anyway, and that's never bothered you because him and the other Marauders have been doing their pranks longer than you've been dating him. 

But, around James's seventeenth birthday, you had wanted to join in on a prank. You wanted to show your loving boyfriend that you liked the silly, sometimes reckless, side of him as much as the charming maturity he'd grown into.

So, you wanted to surprise him and you asked Sirius if you could add your flair to his enchanted fireworks. Sirius had warned you that it wasn't a good idea and that you shouldn't do this, but you dismissed his worries.

Your idea was funny.  

However, when the charm you had enchanted into the fireworks, sent them into a frenzy that countered the original spell James had used and changed their direction from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor one, coincidentally landing over James and his friends, the pink powder you'd infused the fireworks with suddenly wasn't so funny anymore.   

The Marauders and a few other students jump from their seats and everyone in the Great Hall erupts into laughter. You stand as well, your eyes wide, proving your involvement in the mess.

You rush over as Sirius and Remus pat their robes and James shakes out his hair, his cheeks tainted almost as pink as the powder on his skin. 

"I told you not to touch that," Sirius hisses, glaring at you as he points at the fireworks, "Now look what you've done!" 

You flinch, feeling helpless as James's head turns to you, and his voice is strained when he asks, "You did this? You messed with the prank?" When you nod, he narrows his eyes and grabs your hand, practically dragging you out of the Great Hall and into one of the bathrooms. 

"James," you spin around, desperately pointing your wand at him to clean him up. 

Your boyfriend's eyes round and he snatches the wand from your hand. "Woah, haven't you done enough!?" he snaps, clearly furious as he turns to look in the mirror. He touches the now, weirdly gooey pink substance on his cheeks. "What the fuck is this, Y/n?"

"It turns into glue," you whisper, ashamed, "It wasn't for you, obviously! I enchanted the powder in the fireworks and it must have changed the trajectory. I didn't mean to mess up the direction, I promise. I just wanted to help!"

"Help!?" James grits, glaring at you, and then turns back to the mirror as he removes more glue and shakes it from his hands and into the sink. "You wanted to help? This isn't helping! You know almost better than anyone I don't like when people mess with my pranks and look what you did!" 

You hold in your tears. He's making you feel stupid but you refuse to cry because of this. "I was trying to do something good. To help you," you plead and walk to him, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to upset you, I promise."

"You humiliated me and my friends." James pulls his hand away and looks at you again. "In front of everyone." 

Your lip trembles. "I'm really sorry."

James pauses and he stares at himself in the mirror for a minute. Finally, he lets out a tense sigh and nods towards your wand. He'd put it on the edge of the sink and you move closer, taking it in your hand.

Your eyes are shiny with tears as you wave your wand in front of him and clean him up. James is silent and he feels better once he feels clean.

"You wanted to help?" he whispers, needing more of an explanation.

"Well, it was sort of an early birthday present because I wanted to show you I like your pranks a-and I support them most of the time," you add in a whisper, your cheeks feeling warmer, "so I wanted to surprise you and join in. I didn't know I was gonna mess everything up," you ramble as some tears escape from your eyes, your hands shaking. 

James's facial expression softens now and he holds his hands over yours so they don't shake. He feels like a prick now, realizing your intentions had been nothing but good and kind, just like you.

"Hey, I'm sorry I shouted at you," he says and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "It's okay. I understand you didn't mean any harm."

You nod and he leans in, kissing under your eye, halting your tear on its descent. "Dry those tears, dove, everything's all right. Next time, just ask. If you wanna join me in doing some pranks, all you have to do is ask, okay, my sweet girl?"

James nuzzles into your cheek and kisses under your other eye as he adds with a smile, "Didn't think you liked the pranks, my love. I thought you found them mean."

You sniffle. "Sometimes they are."

James laughs against your hair as he kisses the top of your head. "Adding pink goo to the fireworks doesn't count as mean then? How saintly of you," he teases. 

You scrunch your nose and look away, your cheeks all warm. "Um, no? It wasn't meant to be mean, it's just funny."

James grins and leans in to kiss your lips this time. "My baby can mean," he ignores your desperate attempts to convince him it hadn't been slightly messed up to want to pour some pink guck on a group of Slytherins, no matter how horrible they were themselves.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you how to prank properly," he whispers in a promise, "It takes time and practice and you have to plan it all out and—" James begins to ramble back to the Common Room and you can't help but smile at his hearing his explanations.  

James does take his pranks very seriously, but he also takes you seriously and if you want to help him with some pranks from now on, that's what you'll do.

tag: @mischievousmoony, @longlivedelusion, @sayitlikethecheese, @fangirl-swagg

[guiltyasdave]

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up. 

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality. 

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move. 

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine. 

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff. 

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.” 

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?” 

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking. 

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?” 

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking. 

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.” 

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal. 

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance. 

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising. 

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach. 

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake. 

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize. 

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast. 

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all. 

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?” 

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile. 

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers. 

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?” 

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?” 

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.” 

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move. 

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.” 

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back. 

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding. 

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again” 

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you. 

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts. 

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait. 

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.” 

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.” 

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her. 

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him. 

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story. 

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom. 

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies. 

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well. 

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?” 

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity. 

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?” 

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective. 

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask. 

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table. 

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something. 

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?” 

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction. 

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze. 

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more. 

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast. 

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?” 

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red. 

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night. 

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story. 

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile. 

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs. 

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[paigebueckersloverr]

Three's A Crowd

This is a multiple part story. This chapter does not have smut. But the next one does, so stay tuned and feel free to critique. I am always open to suggestions and overall thoughts. Thank you.

Stream of the Day: Novacane 🤍

Contents: Paige And The Reader Attend Paige's After-Game Homecoming Party. Where Reader Finally Meets The Infamous Laliah A Former Flame And Now Friend Of Paige's. Which puts both the reader and paige on edge as laliah makes no mistake in letting paige know she still thinks of her.

THINGS TO KNOW: The Reader Is Black As I Am A Black Girl.

Although, Paige Takes On More Of A Switch Role? Sorry, Yall She's Not Getting Dicked Down...For Now.....

Warnings: Kissing, Fingering, Swearing, Vibrating Strap, Breeding, Degration, Praise, Groping, Possesive Reader, Suggestive Language, Possesive Paige, Jealous Reader, Jealous Paige,* I can't think of anything else right now. * COMING SOON!!!

Word Count - 1.6k MEN And MINORS DNI

☆ Salem's Thoughts ☆

This Story is purely fictional I have no personal relation to anyone mentiond. And I have no malicious or weird intent when writing. These fanfictions are purely for enjoyment and obsessed girls like me.

☆ Salem's Final Thoughts ☆

Please be mindful I'm a little rusty at writing as I haven't Written serious fanfiction. Since my wattpad days, I'm Also dyslexic so read at your own risk.

Paige’s after-game homecoming party was in full swing, the living room pulsating with laughter and music, but all the sound seemed to fade as I laid eyes on Laliah. She was standing by the kitchen counter, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulders as she leaned in close to Paige, their shared history palpable in the way they moved. As I walked closer, I could see the flicker of recognition in Paige’s eyes, a mix of nostalgia and unease. Laliah's smile was warm yet carried an edge, her gaze lingering on Paige longer than necessary, making it unmistakably clear that old flames still flickered in her heart.

Earlier That Day....

I sighed as I finally turned off the alarm set for 8:15 AM, groaning softly as I pushed myself out of bed. The morning light filtered through the curtains of our hotel room in Minnesota, where Paige was born and bred, her dream of becoming a UConn Husky now a reality. Her family had moved away a year and some change after she left for Storrs, but Minnesota still held a special place in her heart. I moved quietly around the room, gathering Paige’s bags for practice and the upcoming game.

The city was buzzing with excitement, the air thick with anticipation for the game. Paige and Laliah, once formidable teammates at Hopkins, were now playing on different teams, and their reunion on the court was the talk of the town. This trip was a homecoming of sorts, and the shared history between Paige and Laliah added an extra layer of intrigue to the event. Little did they know paige and laliah shared more than a court together.

Later that day, after the game, the real test would come at the after-game party, where I knew I’d finally meet the infamous Laliah, a former flame and now friend of Paige’s. The thought of Laliah’s presence set me on edge, knowing she still harbored feelings for Paige. With a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on getting everything ready for Paige’s big day.

Paige stirred in bed, her eyes fluttering open as she sensed my movement. She stretched and then sat up, her expression a mix of excitement and anxiety. "I'm nervous about the game," she admitted softly, running a hand through her hair. "It’s been a while since I’ve played in front of a hometown crowd, and with Laliah on the other team..."

I walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "You’ve got this, my love. You’ve trained so hard, and everyone here knows what an amazing player you are." I smiled, trying to infuse my voice with confidence. "Plus, it’s just another game. You’ve faced tougher challenges."

She smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thanks. I just...I want to make everyone proud."

"You will," I assured her, then hesitated before continuing. "And about meeting your former teammates tonight...I’m a little nervous too. Especially about Laliah."

Paige's smile faded slightly, and she nodded. "I know. It’s complicated, but you’re the one I’m with now. She’s just a friend."

"I trust you, my love," I replied, squeezing her shoulder gently and running my fingers through her hair. "But it’s still a bit intimidating, you know? Meeting people who’ve known you for so long and finally seeing Laliah after everything..."

"We’ll get through it together," Paige said, her voice steadier now. She leaned in, giving me a soft kiss. "Just focus on the game for now. We’ll deal with the rest later."

After reassuring Paige, we finished getting ready and headed to the arena. The drive was filled with quiet moments of hand-holding and exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and underlying nerves. As we pulled up, the bustling energy of the city was evident, fans already gathering in anticipation of the game.

Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was electric, teammates greeting Paige with enthusiasm. I found a spot in the stands, the sea of familiar faces reminding me of just how significant this game was. The crowd erupted in cheers as the teams took to the court, and I spotted Laliah warming up on the other side, her presence a stark reminder of the evening to come.

As I scanned the crowd from my seat in the stands, my eyes eventually landed on Laliah. She stood out effortlessly, her presence commanding attention without even trying. Her dark curls framed her face in a cascade of effortless elegance, and her smile, though warm, held a hint of mystery. Dressed in her vibrant mustard yellow and worn leather red uniform , she exuded confidence and grace.

Beside me, Paige's family chatted excitedly, her mom waving enthusiastically at every point Paige scored. Her dad and stepmother watched intently, their pride evident in every cheer and applause. Paige's two little brothers were bouncing in their seats, their energy contagious, while her little sister sat quietly, eyes fixed on the game with a thoughtful expression.

The game was intense, both teams playing with unmatched vigor. Paige moved with a grace and determination that made my heart swell with pride. Each basket, each defensive move, showcased her dedication and skill. But it was impossible to ignore Laliah's equally impressive performance, the chemistry between them on full display even as opponents.

Amidst the excitement, I couldn't help but steal glances at Laliah, her interactions with the crowd and the game itself a fascinating study. Despite the history between her and Paige, there was an air of familiarity and respect in the way she engaged with everyone around her.

Paige's family, oblivious to the significance of Laliah's presence, continued to cheer and celebrate each play with infectious enthusiasm. As the final buzzer sounded and uconn emerged victorious, the crowd erupted in cheers, and I quickly rushed down to meet her. She wrapped me in a tight hug, her face glowing with the thrill of victory.

"We did it," she whispered, her voice breathless.

"You were amazing, my love," I said, kissing her cheek. "Absolutely amazing." She said as she spun us around and cheered. In the locker room, amidst the jubilant cheers and high-fives, Paige and i shared a quiet moment of celebration, her arms wrapped tightly around me as we basked in the euphoria of victory.

After the locker room celebrations, Paige and I retreated to our hotel room to get ready for the party. As Paige changed into her usual attire—a black button-down shirt paired with loose trousers—I opted for a more toned-down look, slipping into a sleek yet understated dress that accentuated my curves in all the right places.

As I smoothed down the fabric of my dress, Paige sauntered over, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "You know, I think I prefer you in less clothing," she teased, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind.

I chuckled, leaning back into her embrace. "Oh really? And here I thought you were all about the mystery."

She nuzzled into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone. "I like a little mystery, but I also like knowing what's underneath," she murmured, her voice low and suggestive.

A shiver ran down my spine at her words, the familiar heat of desire igniting between us. "Well, lucky for you, you've already unwrapped this package," I replied, turning to face her with a playful grin.

Paige chuckled, her eyes darkening with desire as she pulled me closer. "And what a delightful surprise it was," she murmured, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

As we finally made our way to the party, the playful banter between Paige and me took on a tense edge, each teasing remark and stolen glance fueling the simmering jealousy between us. The air crackled with unspoken tension, our insecurities festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to heal.

As we mingled amidst the crowd, Paige's gaze lingered on Laliah for a moment too long, and a surge of Jealousy with a hint of anger ignited within me. "Can we talk?" I hissed through gritted teeth, pulling her aside with a firm grip on her arm.

Paige's eyes flashed with frustration, her own insecurities about the night finally bubbling to the surface. "What now?" she snapped, her tone sharp and defensive.

"It's about her, isn't it?" I accused, my voice trembling with anger and hurt. "You can't deny that there's something between you and Laliah."

Paige's jaw tensed, her expression defensive. "She's just a friend, damn it!" she spat, her voice laced with frustration. "Why can't you trust me?"

But trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the lingering stares and whispered conversations that passed between them. "Because it feels like I'm competing with her for your attention!" I shot back, my voice rising in desperation.

As our argument escalated, the tension between us reached a boiling point, our words a painful reminder of the growing rift between us. And amidst the chaos, Laliah approached, her presence casting a shadow over our already strained relationship.

We soon put the argument to rest, realizing that no one would come out happier than when we entered. In Paige's attempt to reassure me, she gently guided me over to Laliah, attempting to make introductions. Despite the lingering tension, Paige's gesture was a small but significant step towards easing the palpable unease that hung in the air. As we approached Laliah, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me, unsure of how the encounter would unfold. Nevertheless, I squared my shoulders and forced a polite smile, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

"Laliah, this is..." Paige began, her voice trailing off as she glanced uncertainly at me, her hand still clenched in mine.

"Y/N, her girlfriend and secretary on occasion. I interrupted, my tone cool and clipped. As I smiled softly and reached out for a handshake, which she returned steadfastly, "I've heard a lot about you."

Laliah's lips curled into a knowing smirk, her gaze flickering between Paige and me with a hint of amusement. "Likewise," she replied, her voice smooth as silk. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you both."

[flowercitti]

Hi, I read your one Astarion story "wanted to kiss your skin and your everything." First I would like to say it was so good it kinda made me wanna cry it was so sweet it's definitely one of my favorites I've read. :) But I saw at the bottom you said about a request so I was wondering if you would be willing to write a fic about Astarion and Asexual Tav/Reader. I honestly don't have any other specifics, but I haven't seen a lot of Ace content with BG3 which I understand but I would really love to see more. Please don't feel pressured or anything, thank you in the least. Have a great day or night :)

Wahh thank u sm I’m so glad you enjoyed that fic! 🤍☺️ and thank you sm for sending a request, I really love this idea! 🫶 here’s a little Drabble 🫶.

Fluff/Gender Neutral Reader/Ace Reader

🌸

You can’t say you’re surprised when Astarion propositions you. He’s open and flirtatious and he seems to now exactly what he’s doing, as well as being so wholly aware of the affect he has on people. He may not be able to see himself, but he’s learned well enough from the reactions his pretty face garners.

You agree with that assessment, he is rather beautiful, but when it comes to sex—

“What?” Astarion seems nearly speechless, his silver tongue gone heavy in his mouth as he blinks, coming damn close to outright stuttering, “I—I mean, surely you—I’ve seen how you look at me!” He huffs, looking frustrated and confused and completely thrown off.

It’s almost endearing, to see him grow so flustered, his suave persona melting through his shock. You can’t help but smile, “I’m just not really interested in sex. That’s all.” You shrug, and Astarion looks at you as if that tadpole in your head has finally started to transform you.

“You’re still very pretty and utterly charming, don’t worry.” You inform him, and Astarion chuckles, if only out of disbelief.

“Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.” He sniffs delicately, looking away from you, his full lips pursed in a slight pout.

You watch him shift from foot to foot nervously, ruby eyes regarding you warily, brows pinched as he seems to wager whether you’re lying to him or not.

“You don’t want me, then?” He says carefully, a faux sort of lightness infused in his tone. You see through it immediately. His eyes always give him away, glittering in the moonlight and fanned by dark lashes.

“I didn’t say that.” You manage a step closer, chewing on the inside of your lip, “It’s just the sex I don’t want. Everything else—I’m interested.”

“What else could you possibly want from me, then?” He seems to blurt, his mouth twisting out of confusion rather than anger, his gaze flickering away anxiously.

Something in your chest pangs, a painful churn behind your ribs. He looks like he believes it, like he thinks you’re teasing him or leading him on. You frown softly, holding your hand out between the two of you, leaving it open for him to take should he choose.

“I could show you, if you’d like.”

He stares at your hand like it’s a live trap, like it’s fit to spring its spikes into him the moment he reaches out. There’s a strange flicker of emotion that shifts across his face—relief, consideration, fear. His mouth parts, a quiet breath pressing past his lips as he considers you, seeming not to notice the long seconds that pass by. But he keeps his eyes steadily on you as he slowly slips his fingers over yours. His skin is unnaturally cool, perfectly smooth and untouched by calluses. You can nearly see him shudder from the simple contact, his face twitching in surprise, crimson eyes like pools of shining blood.

“I don’t see the point of this, surely there’s more I could do for you—”

You shush him, delighting in the scandalized look he rewards you with, “No. I like this more.” And you think he does to, more than he lets on, more than the sex he had been tempting you with.

His eyes are strangely glassy even as he huffs, looking down at your joined hands.

“You have better not be playing me.” He mutters, but he sounds nearly breathless as you thumb gently over his wrist. Your other hand comes up to hold his between both of yours, as if you could press heat into his lifeless flesh.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, then.” You say playfully, but your fingers are delicate as they trace the bones of his knuckles, finding the lines of his veins. You’re closer now than you were before, Astarion’s eyes just slightly widened as they regard you. His fingers shift in your hold, his thumb pressing experimentally into your palm.

He looks as if he’s never done this before, surprise and awe dancing over his face despite how hard he attempts to hide it.

“I suppose that I will.” He rasps, his head tilting to the side in wonder, and you meet him with small smile.

🌸

Astarion-flavored Requests are still open 🫶🤍 thank u sm for reading.

[whateverisbeautiful]

Thank you to Andy & Danai

For playing the iconic roles of Rick Grimes and Michonne Grimes to perfection all these years. For giving my beautiful and beloved fav characters a profound amount of depth, chemistry, humanity, presence, and heart. ♥️

For coming back to us after years away to give Richonne a fitting and beautiful conclusion. For putting your all into crafting these six eps of TOWL both on screen and behind the scenes. For letting Rick and Michonne’s love be the undeniable thrust of every single scene (+ kisses in every ep, amen 😋). For infusing passion into every part of your performance from your intro in TWD, to the moment Richonne laid eyes on each other at the prison fence, to embracing their babies at the end of TOWL. 🥹

For genuinely understanding and valuing Richonne’s soulmatism and all the details that makes their love a love supreme. For EPISODE 4. For a wedding ring. For landing their love story with a gorgeous Grimes family reunion. 👏🏽

For giving Rick and Michonne the happy ending they so deserve together after everything they’ve been through. For inspiringly depicting the power of resilience, of grown healthy romance between equals who make the other feel safe, seen, and alive, and most importantly depicting the way love prevails. 👑

For being the ultimate captains that love and care for Richonne like we do. For fully capturing our hearts. For slaying in all ways - lines, looks, walkers, and more. For prompting me to make a blog and write thousands of words studying and celebrating Richonne’s captivating journey and engaging with so many great Richonne fans whose insights are so lovely and thoughtful. 🫶🏽

For taking Richonne’s love story to new heights and allowing it to reach its fullest potential. For giving us this abundant gift we’ll always treasure. Thank you to Danai & Andy for everything. Thank you for you. 💐

Andrew Lincoln, Danai Gurira, Scott Gimple, and everyone who helped craft this love story really did it. 🥲 They delivered. Andy & Danai gave us everything and more on this incredible journey. They are legendary talents and deserve so many flowers and appreciation. ‘Thank you’ is the biggest thing on my heart after witnessing this love story from the beginning to now, with their heartwarming happy ending.

Richonne started strong and finished strong. I’m forever grateful. I’ll miss them so much. I’ll love them always. 😌🤍

[hunkystephaudio]

we are made up of 75% water. our bodies need water just like our lungs need air. if you're struggling with maintaining perfect levels of hydration, this little subliminal is going to give you that INNER GLOW we all crave. that feeling of vitality, energy and beauty that comes from proper hydration.

use it with caution, it's very powerful & made with my own voice as usual. you might feel the need to drink while listening, so grab a jug of water and start sippin'! enjoy!!!

🤍B E N E F I T S: 🤍

- always be perfectly hydrated

- your optimal hydration levels show in your skin, hair, eyes, scalp, lips, bones, organs and muscles

🤍 ULTRA-HEALTH BOOSTER 🤍

- your organs work perfectly

- your cells work perfectly

- your health is always perfect and ideal

- always manifest all your wishes, desires and visualizations every time you drink water

- your water is always infused with the energy of health, love, beauty, wealth, youth, abundance, happiness, bliss, ecstasy, divine protection and perfect fulfillment

[russellsppttemplates]

Cam you write where Lance is the one that gets hurt and Y/N is there for him.

Note: I have this big piece that is along the lines of that too if you're feeling like it!

Tw: sickness, taking medication

"Are you not feeling better?", you croaked out, walking to the ensuite where your boyfriend, by the sound of it, has just emptied his stomach, "I feel better that I don't have anything in my stomach now, its a relief", he gasped out, holding his hand out so you could help him up. Washing his mouth in the sink, you both got back to bed as you checked his temperature, "you're feverish, Lance", you announced, noticing his struggle with the covers on his skin, "I'll be right back".

Thanking your past self for having the idea, you took the frozen water bottles from the freezer along with a kitchen towell, walking back upstairs and offering them to Lance, "this way you don't have to worry about the melted ice water, the bottles are closed down properly and this way you can feel a little bit cooler", you adjusted the bottles, the relief on his features soothing your worries, "let's try and sleep", he mumbled, "wake me up if you need anything, okay, handsome? Good night", you said, smooching a big kiss on his forehead.

"It's my throat", Lance coughed, alarming your senses as it didn't sound that great, "I thought I was getting better so yesterday we went on a run, but I don't think it helped at all", he pouted as the thermometer beeped, "yes, you're feverish still, love. Get some rest and I'll make you some tea and soup, okay?", you said as you kissed his hands.

In the kitchen, the kettle rattled as you boiled water for the chicken soup and the herbal infusion your mother swore would ward off any colds. When you brought the tea to Lance in the bedroom, he was already asleep, mouth agape so he could breathe properly. Kissing his forehead, you left the mug and the medication on the nightstand, hoping he would take it in case he woke up and you weren't there.

The soup was coming along nicely as you rolled the dough balls, popping them in the hot liquid as they cooked and made the soup filling and nutritious.

"Do I really have to take these?", Lance said as he looked at the medicine, not enjoying the fact that it wasn't a pill and rather a liquid, "That's the only one they had in the pharmacy, so it will have to do", you reasoned, measuring out the quantity and giving it to him, giggling at his face as he swallowed it, "is that soup? I can't really smell it", he looked at the bowl.

After he ate it, claiming it was the best meal he had in a long time (especially after not being able to keep anything in his stomach for long), you grabbed the Vicks Vaporub, spreading it on his chest to help his breathing, "this was just an excuse to feel me up, I see, woman", he winked miserably as you closed the lid, laying next to him and pushing him to lie on your chest, "you know it, Lance", you brushed his hair away from his forehead with your fingers, "I just want you to get better, handsome, I just want you to feel better".

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

[fourthleafluckart]

T4T mermaid/selkie my beloveds

As a trans person, I often find myself in awe of the way other trans people do gender, and I wanted to do a piece that reflected that love and wonderment. I tried to infuse this with all my adoration for the mutual love between people who are transitioning in sort of opposite directions.

Seeing trans people play with femininity in a way that makes them happy allows the ghost of the little girl I never was to sleep more soundly in my chest. How could I not fall in love with the rightful carers of a gender I was a steward for in my childhood? To see the way trans femmes make feminininty their own is such a unique and potent joy.

Anyways, thank you trans people for making the world more beautiful and full of color and life. I love you I love you I love you 💙🩷🤍🩷💙

[sitp-recs]

hey there! wondering if you know of any good fics that are demi (or ace)? I read so many amazing fics but sometimes everything being super sexualised is a bit much (no hate !!! just looking for something a bit different atm) really struggling to see myself represented in mainstream media and just life in general rn so was hoping there’s be something out there! thanks <3

Sending love your way dear anon 🤍🖤💜 I’m not ace myself but totally agree and would love to see broader representation in fic. I do have some recs for you, you’re probably already familiar with Little Deaths but I’m including it because it’s one of my favorite fics and a must read imo. I also have a reclist for non-sexual intimacy in case you’re interested :)

Cake is Ace by @bafflinghaze (G, 2.6k)

As part of a dare, Harry and Draco get locked in a cupboard together. Harry swears that it isn’t what it looks like!

Let Me Count the Ways by @thebooktopus (E, 3.5k)

Intimacy comes in many forms. Draco wants to explore them all with Harry.

Ferrety Little Mouths and How to Snog with Them by @fluxweeed (M, 5k)

“I don’t think the size of your mouth has much to do with how good at kissing you are. People with ferrety little mouths can be good snoggers too.” “You’re clearly an expert. You’ll have to teach me.”

Cake, Please by leontina (T, 9k)

Harry is struggling with mental health issues, and Draco is struggling with his sexuality. They both feel alone and broken, until Harry hires Draco as a portrait painter.

Glowing by @cavendishbutterfly (T, 10k)

Harry's lived alone and vampiric in his cottage for ages, until a long-lived Draco Malfoy suddenly shows up to answer an advertisement Harry had practically forgotten he'd put in the Prophet. Cue soft blood drinking, quiet nights of reading and crocheting, and Harry thinking that maybe--just maybe--he might not be so alone anymore.

Infuse With Affection, Enchant With Love by @bafflinghaze (T, 16k)

It starts with Draco making protective pendants for himself, his parents, and his friends, after the war. Something that would watch their backs—and their fronts—as people spat on them in the streets and hexed them in the alleyways. Draco gets better at it, does a course on it, and takes enough commissions for charmed jewellery that he eventually opens his own shop.

Be It Sunny Days Or Stormy Nights by @bafflinghaze (T, 16k)

Harry and Draco are good friends: Harry annoys Draco and Draco insults him back. But slowly, Harry starts to realise just how important Draco is in his life and discovers that relationships need not follow strict lines.

Passion Cake by @icmezzo (T, 19k)

It’s all about desire. (Harry orders a magically enhanced cake from a chic London bakery, and from there it all goes to hell in a cake tin. Also, will someone please tell Harry what Passion Cake is?)

Cake co. by toutcequonveut (T, 21k)

Draco is the ace of cakes! Or: the story of how Draco Malfoy goes from war criminal to baker incredible, makes some unexpected friendships, and learns more about himself along the way. A journey of growth told through cake.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose and dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

[magickkate]

🍲✨ Stirring Up Some Kitchen Magic! ✨🍲

Hey there, witches! Did you know that your kitchen can be a magical playground for spellcasting? That's right—whether you're brewing up a batch of soup or baking a loaf of bread, you can infuse your cooking with intention and energy to manifest your desires. Here's a beginner-friendly recipe to get you started:

🌿 Magical Herb-infused Soup 🌿

🥣 Ingredients:

1 onion, diced

2 cloves of garlic, minced

2 carrots, sliced

2 stalks of celery, chopped

4 cups of vegetable broth

1 can of diced tomatoes

1 cup of cooked beans (your choice) - i really enjoy pinto or white beans in soups

A handful of your favorite herbs (such as rosemary, thyme, or basil) - i love basil and thyme (i use the Italian Seasoning blend and just focus my intent on that because college budget)

Salt and pepper to taste

🔮 Instructions:

Heat a bit of olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the diced onion and minced garlic, stirring occasionally until they're soft and fragrant.

Toss in the sliced carrots and chopped celery, letting them cook for a few minutes until they start to soften.

Pour in the vegetable broth and diced tomatoes, bringing the mixture to a gentle boil. Reduce the heat and let it simmer for about 20 minutes, allowing the flavors to meld together.

Add the cooked beans and your chosen herbs to the pot, stirring gently to combine. Let the soup simmer for another 10 minutes or so, until everything is heated through and flavorful.

Season with salt and pepper to taste, adjusting as needed to suit your preferences.

As you stir the soup, focus on your intentions—whether it's promoting health and vitality, attracting abundance, or fostering love and connection. Visualize your desired outcome coming to fruition with each swirl of the spoon.

Once your soup is ready, serve it up with a sprinkle of magic and a side of gratitude. Take a moment to appreciate the nourishment it provides for your body and soul.

As always, the most important ingredient in any magical recipe is your intention. So get creative, experiment with different flavors and ingredients, and have fun infusing your kitchen creations with a little dash of witchy charm! 🥄🔥

if you make this recipe, post it and tag me in it with #magickkate so I can see it! 🤍

[soob1nn]

LOVE INTEREST - FORMULA 1 DR

REMINDER! I haven’t shifted yet, so all these is just my imagination 🤍

masterlist - main masterlist

Ah, the person who holds my heart's key – my love interest. They're the protagonist of the captivating story that is my life. Every time our eyes meet, it's as if the pages of a romantic novel come to life, painting my world with vivid emotions, suspense, and a hint of enchantment. Waiting for their messages is like unwrapping a sweet surprise, and their mere presence infuses my world with the comforting warmth of affection. They're the composer of the symphony that makes my heart dance to the joyful rhythm of love.

CARLOS SAINZ

Let me take a moment to tell you about Carlos – he's not just any F1 driver; he's the shining star on the Ferrari F1 team. What's even more thrilling is that he's not just a racing legend; he's my remarkable boyfriend. When you see him in that iconic red Ferrari car, his serious and determined look might make him seem all business, but once that helmet is off, you discover a completely different side of him.

Behind the wheel, he's a force to be reckoned with, but off the track, he's the most endearing dork you'll ever meet. It's those moments where he lets his guard down and showcases his playful, charming side that truly make my heart do backflips. His love language is a beautiful combination of physical touch and words of affection, and when he expresses his feelings, it's like a sweet serenade that sweeps me off my feet.

And let's not forget how his Spanish just adds another layer of intrigue. The way he speaks the language is not only incredibly alluring but also intensely passionate, like poetry in motion. It's impossible not to be drawn in by the magnetism of his words.

Now, when he's not conquering the racetrack or stealing hearts with his language, he's cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Trust me when I say his morning pancakes are nothing short of magic, and his hamburgers? Well, they're legendary in their own right.

But what truly sets Carlos apart is his deep admiration for his dad. He looks up to him, striving to make him proud in everything he does. That kind of determination and love for family is something I find not only admirable but also incredibly endearing.

Carlos Sainz, the F1 superstar, the dorky charmer, the culinary genius, and the family-oriented heartthrob – he's the complete package, and he's got my heart revving at full throttle.

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

what are some of your fave Sonic games? ✨

Well, I'm actually not much of a gamer, (and also don't own a console 🥲) though I've played like halfway through Sonic Unleashed and partway through Sonic CD. (I've been stuck at a daytime level in Holoska for over a year 🥲) I did play all the way through Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, though. BUT. If you're talking story-wise, I can answer a lot more easily! These answers will be based on the story, not the gameplay. 😁

Sonic Frontiers is definitely one of my top favorites. It legit made me CRY. 😭 I felt each and every one of the characters, and they felt so so ALIVE. Sonic's different dynamics with each of his friends stuck out to me, especially with Tails. 🥹 Not to mention Sage's introduction and her entire arc. 😭❤️ Frontiers came out shortly after I joined the fandom, so it's extra special to me. It was a lovely introduction to the core of the game versions of these characters. 🤩

I also love Sonic Unleashed! Sure, it may be hard for me to play lol, but the story is so dang good. I love how it explored who Sonic is, as a person, once stripped of his signature speed. And he didn't disappoint. 💙 He's still so caring, so selfless, as he decides to start looking after some random little guy who'd lost his memories. Right after getting electrocuted, infused with dark energy, and shot out through space to smash into the planet, no less. He always wants to help, and in this case it just so happened that his general kindness and selflessness got him a friendship with a deity. 😂💙

I love the classic story of Sonic Adventure 1 & 2! Shadow as a character is SOOOOO amazing, and I always love to see him. I love certain elements of Sonic 06, such as Team Dark's dynamic and portrayal, and Silver and Blaze's close relationship. 🤍💜 I love Sonic & the Secret Rings, with Sonic's kindness (and snarkiness, and silliness) on full display in his friendship with Shahra. I love Sonic & the Black Knight for its AU feel and spectacular medieval setting and beautiful writing. I love elements of Sonic Colors, especially Sonic and Tails's bond. I love the Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog for its slice of life feel, everyday life characterization, and dynamics. I love Sonic Dream Team for it's beautiful animation, fascinating and entertaining story, and the introduction of Ariem. 💙

I just love the vast majority of the content there is. 😅 I got a little carried away, didn't I? 🤣

Thank you for the ask! 💙

[wolfstargazer]

No 3. Sleeping with ghosts sounds intriguing 🤍

This is the fic that resolves the slow burn and sexual tension that took 150k+ words and 17 narrative years to build.

This fic is split into two parts. The first part focuses on the last time Remus and Sirius see each other before the murders of the Potters. The second part is set post-GOF and is my take on "Lie Low at Lupin's". It alternates between Sirius' and Remus' POV.

It includes dark and mature themes but is full of love.

Rating: M/E (I'm not entirely sure yet but defo 18+)

Pairings: Wolfstar

Genre: Drama/Angst. Romance. Violence. Hurt/Comfort. Sex. Mature themes. Reconciliation. Healing.

Title: taken from and inspired by Sleeping with Ghosts by Placebo.

Synopsis: After years of tension, suspicion and betrayal two old friends come to realise that they've wasted too much time.

Snippet 1:

"You can't hurt me anymore, Sirius," Remus said, his voice breathless and bloodied. Sirius was livid, his eyes wide, his lip trembling as he applied, even more pressure, to Remus' chest. "There's nothing you can do to cause me anymore pain…" Yet as he had said this Remus' voice had suddenly caught in his throat; restricted by the lack of air and by something he had read in Sirius' eyes. All words of further warning failed him . He blinked and Sirius was still there, stationary, his mind processing the thought that Remus had glimpsed; his eyes unfathomable, his face now becoming unreadable as all was shrouded in emotion and dark. Eventually, Remus found his words returning; knowing that if he didn't speak now than it would be his last chance to try and stop what was about to happen. Yet the voice that broke the uneasy silence seemed like it was not his own, the words he spoke were clearly uncertain and infused with fear as he said, shaking "If you kiss me now, Sirius, I shall never forgive you."

Snippet 2:

If he had gotten up, if Sirius had not stopped him, by now the kettle on the stove would be whistling. They would both be dressed and discussing what they were to do in the fight against Voldemort. Only now that didn't seem to matter. For now, it seemed as if the whole world could wait. Sirius guided Remus' hand, and Remus found himself pushing away the hair to cup the warm curve of Sirius' neck. Had he imagined it, Remus wondered, perhaps a little too late, unable to stop they way his fingertips sought out the downy hairs at the back of Sirius' neck. Had he always wondered what this would be like, to be here, like this, with him? "You're thinking why," Sirius said, his voice a barely audible whisper. Outside Remus could hear that more cars were starting as the Muggles left for work. "Am I?" Remus asked, his voice no-way near as certain sounding as Sirius'. Sirius nodded. "Why here? Why now? Why like this?" Remus said nothing, clinging to the coolness of control, hoping it would be enough to help him see things clearly. To not make this a mistake. But Sirius smiled and Remus felt his stomach fall away. After remaining motionless for a long time Sirius moved and placed a hand gently on Remus' cheek. It was so different to touch than to be touched and Remus started at the heat of it, the intimacy of it, as he felt Sirius' rough hand caress his face. Remus fought the urge to incline towards Sirius' palm. But it was impossible. Sirius moved his fingers slowly, softly, tracing a scar that cut close to Remus' mouth. Remus couldn't think, only feel. All that mattered was the feeling of Sirius' hand, and the way his body was responding to Sirius' touch. "I once told you that some scars weren't on the outside," Sirius said. Remus remembered that conversation well. He felt Sirius' eyes searching, taking in every scar, every blemish, every line on Remus' face before Sirius lent a little closer and said, "I think we both understand that now."

[chilly-me-softly]

Can you do something with Ben White, he is in Doha for the word Cup but the two of you have argued and you love him a lot. Y/n and Ben have a newborn son and he has a cold and you are worried.. thank you in advance 🤍 (sorry for my English)

Wrote this before he withdrew from the squad

-

Having a baby change everything from the way you think to your priorities; everything begins to be planned with them in mind in order to make them feel good. Or so you thought...

You were happy about Ben's call-up to the world cup, you still are. Yet there were days when bickering was not missing in your house, leading you to be nervous and consequently causing your barely one-month-old baby to be more nervous than usual. Exhausted didn't fully express how you felt.

"I don't understand" and yet Ben misses no opportunity to resume the same conversation that has been going on within those walls for days now.

"Again?" you sigh dejectedly, the only thing you want is to take advantage of the fact that the baby is finally resting so that you can do the same if only for a little while. But he doesn't understand that.

"Yes, again. And do you know why? Because it's not fucking fair"

"Ben I warn you, change that attitude or don't start at all"

"Everyone will be there, everyone. What am I supposed to say when they notice I'll be the only one alone?"

"The truth. That the baby is still too young to travel"

"Because you don't want to"

"You really think you have it all figured out? - your voice drops a tone, defeated and bitter at yet another failed communication between the two of you since the baby's birth - have you ever stopped to think about what it might mean for me, for us, to move with a newborn? I feel like I've just found some stability since he was born and just the thought of having to do it all over again alone in a place I don't know surrounded by strangers scares me... but you don't care anyway. You only think about yourself, about showing your family around five minutes after the game while I'm the one who has to take care of everything else!"

The baby's crying is the only thing in the background after your outburst while he looks at you without saying anything. So you take the opportunity to walk away, to put some space between the two of you as you go to quiet the baby.

-

The days before departure are the strangest. Some go by as if you were a normal family that has just had a baby, enjoying every moment ahead of his departure; others as if you were strangers under the same roof, shifty glances and unspoken thoughts.

And that is how he leaves, after a small party with friends and family to wish him luck, to join his teammates almost a week before the start of the world cup. Every evening or whenever he has free time he calls you to see you both; there is always a smile on his face, the focus on the boy, but still on facetime is always easier to hide things.

When he calls you on the third day he can sense that something is wrong just by seeing you. He had just finished dinner with some of the boys but had wandered off looking for a quiet place so you could talk freely.

"He didn't sleep at all last night. He's so fussy. And I think he has some sort of flu"

"Did you call my mum or yours?"

"Yeah, I spoke to them just now. I also called the paediatrician but he wasn't available" the desperation is clear in your voice as you huff trying to push back the tears that are trying to come out.

"Babe - Ben sighs, looking for the best way to infuse you with his closeness - breathe, you've got this under control..."

"He's so little, I don't know what to do"

"Okay now listen to me, ask your mother or sister to stay with you tonight. Just so you're calmer and you can try to get some rest too"

"Ugh I should have listened to you and taken him somewhere warmer" you sigh and really the distance right now doesn't help.

"That could have happened here too. And you're right, probably in a foreign place you would have gone even crazier"

"I'm not going crazy - you reply promptly snatching a laugh from him - I'm just worried about my baby"

"I know" a hysterical cry breaks free in the air just then and you step away for a moment only to go and retrieve the baby leaving Ben waiting. When you return he can actually notice the slightly flushed cheeks typical of a few lines of fever.

"How is he?"

"He doesn't seem any warmer than before" you murmur, resting your lips on his forehead for a moment. "Oh the paediatrician is calling me back. Talk later?"

"Yeah, let me know as soon as you're done" the call disconnects soon after leaving him bitter at what he meant to say, staring at your profile picture picturing you and the baby in one of the many photos he took of you during that period.

Part 2

[sweetiebarnes]

Finally found a username that I love.

Later today I’ll be changing my username to vellicore. 🤍

It’s a play on the word vellichor.

vellichor -

n. the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with thousands of old books you’ll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured.