#anyone wants to play with me? 👀

[1pcii]

my fave alabasta shipping dynamics is pre-established zolu playing matchmaker (how successful they are? eehhhh) for pining namivivi

[good--merits-accumulated]

sometimes the brain worms get you and you start writing a secret life of walter mitty anderperry au

[playbarbies]

𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦-𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞!!

★ bill cipher, gravity falls ( an au-ish take where cult of bill members craft him a human form and revive him after the events of season three ) fc: cody fern

★ stanlee pines, gravity falls. fc: matthew lillard

★ scary godmother, scary godmother. fc: kim whalen

★ matilda walker . aka: mother, trail to oregon musical. fc: rachael soglin

★ adelaide walker . aka: daughter, trail to oregon musical. fc:  jamie lyn beatty

★ hardy ackerman, fandomless original character. fc: joey richter

[naughtydogg]

replaying dbh has reminded me why I used to have a major fucking crush on clancy brown

[magicalgirl6]

I'm sure it's been talked about to death, but I just finished yuki yuna season 1 and wanted to talk about it. To be clear, this is fully my own thoughts and opinions. I think it's fully valid if other people feel differently. Also, I don't have the same disabilities as any of the characters, so I can't speak on representation of anything specific.

There were things I liked about the ending for sure. Yuna and Tougou had some very sweet moments, and I liked the emphasis on Yuna recovering through her own willpower rather than the gods' influence

But man I cannot overlook their disabilities being cured…

I understand, from a narrative perspective, that if a major part of the conflict is the gods taking away functionality in parts of your body as offerings, than the solution is taking it back from the gods. I understand that, if they didn't, it might feel like they lost. But they could still fight to break out of / change the system without all their losses being undone in the end!

I don't like disabilities being cured at the end of a story because it sends the message that you can't be disabled and have a happy ending. Like, being cured is the only happy ending. And I know the show wasn't trying to send this message, or at least I don't think it was, because Tougou had plenty of happy moments throughout the series. She was well-written as a wheelchair user, at least as far as I can tell as someone who doesn't use one. I think they did really well with her. But the ending still leaves a bad taste in my mouth because it does still imply that this was the only solution for them.

And I don't think there's anything wrong with the characters being upset after becoming disabled, or it messing with their self worth. Disability can be scary, especially when it's new, and in cases like Itsuki's it can mess with people's aspirations and drastically change the trajectory of people's lives. I think that that's accurate and real. I think they're allowed to be angry and upset for having so much taken from them. But I don't think them getting it back sends the best message to the audience. (And I feel like some of the stuff the characters said about Sonoko seemed kind of offensive? But idk if that was just the translation in the version of the subtitles I had)

I don't think I'll ever recover from my disability. It drastically messes with my life, it makes many things way more difficult, but I know it's not going away. I'm not mad about it anymore. I'm okay. I can still be happy and have a good life. So a story where the characters fully recover doesn't feel inspirational or motivating to me, it feels uncomfortable. I know disabilities can sometimes be recovered from, and I'm not trying to dismiss anyone's experiences, but as someone who won't recover, I'd find it much better to see characters thrive AND stay disabled.

It would still be a victory for them if they didn't have to fight and sacrifice anymore. It would still be a victory for them to keep on living after everything. They don't need a full recovery to be heroes.

[easypeasylindyvesey]

Lavi: The problem is *spins wheel* Trou— no wait, I had him traded. The problem is *spins wheel* Jimmy! (Jimmy side eyes him from the locker room, still very much in his suit) uhh 😥

this is exactly how i can imagine this happening

jim shows up at optional practice this morning. he’s skating freely, living his best life, excited to play under the garden lights.

that is until he ends up skating alone with jonny brodzinski, and lavi breaks the news. he’s like “guys, it’s not you, it’s me. oh, no no no! it’s not that you don’t have the talent, because you do!

“it’s just…well, i need to switch the lines up a bit, you know? i gotta see with what’s working well with the rest of the team. but trust me when i say that it’s nothing you did wrong. i just gotta cross my fingers and hope we win without both of you. so yeah, don’t forget to show up tonight, and you both can just hang out in the press box, or in the locker room. up to you!”

he stops & turns to look at jim. “listen man, i know it was supposed to be your 599th NHL game tonight so that you could hit that milestone on wednesday while we’re in buffalo, but i want to delay it again. you’re gonna have to wait until saturday. but again, it’s not you.”

so jim shows up to the arena, emotional support water bottle in hand, phone in the other, drowning out the voices in his head. “lavi secretly thinks you’re shit,” “berard’s back so that’s why he scratched you,” “is being scratched two games in the past four a sign of something bad?”, “i wish i could be better,” “i can’t help but think it’s my fault”

until he walks in the locker room and notices a huge spin-the-wheel. it’s labeled “what is the problem today?”

the spinner lands on the one name he didn’t want.

his own.

he holds his head down low, elicits a soft exhale, perhaps combined with frustration & acceptance. “i’ve been scratched before. it’s not a big deal.”

oh, but to the fans who appreciate the bottom sixers, it so IS a big deal.

i would rather have him play 7, 8 minutes a night than sit away somewhere in MSG, not being able to fix the situation at hand. of course it’s not a one man job, but you know what i mean.

i would rather have him play those low minutes if it meant i got to see an ounce of contribution and effort that is more promising & noticeable compared to the other lines right now (yes, that’s a fact. someone’s gotta take accountability).

i would rather see him sitting on that bench in the third period, staring up into space with that disassociated look on his face, praying he gets a chance to even hit the ice for more than one shift, hoping he’s done enough to earn another.

so yes, jimmy might think it’s his own fault (and as i say this, i really hope he knows that it is NOT and NEVER WILL BE).

but to tell you the truth, it’s the undervalued players that are always paying the consequences for the overhyped, currently overpaid ones that don’t do a damn thing, thus diminishing their talent and their chances to prove themselves.

because how is he supposed to prove himself if he is not given an opportunity to play.

and how is he supposed to view this as a “learning experience” when he’s just sitting around and watching his team perform horribly, and he can’t do anything about it.

————-

you wait for him to drive home from the rink, sitting on the couch, postgame show blaring through your apartment, condo, whatever your heart desires.

that familiar knock reverberates through your space, and you bolt up to unlock the door to be met with his sad puppy dog face, those long eyelashes extending as far as they go.

all you feel like you can do is pull him into a hug, which he doesn’t automatically accept, but since he knows this situation is frustrating for you too, he reciprocates as you feel his hands, still full of unreleased tension, not even fully grip the back of your shirt, because he’s afraid the tension will seep through it somehow.

all you can do is pull back and hold onto his forearms that are covered by his coat, and utter those three words.

“you are enough.”

and he sometimes has the courage to respond:

“apparently not to them.”

but oh jimmy, you will always be enough. to all of us.

*anyway, long story short: jimmy vesey, my baby man, my precious angel, i’m sorry that lavi would believe your absence in the lineup would benefit this team.*

**and if he DARE do it a third time, we are going to have major, major problems**

[theflyingfeeling]

fic talk in the tags 💝

[elkkiel]

if you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to seven blogs, anon or not! (no pressure to keep it going of course) <3

Tonee!!!! I have had this sitting here for a while but tysm for sending this in, ilysm!!!! happy timezone my little sunset 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

I was born like 6 hours before Halloween bc my mom didn't want a Halloween baby (not in a legit /srs way but like #justchristianthings)

my first real fandom was creepypasta in tandem with marblehornets. in 2012/2013. I love when people write polyvessels living in a big manor together bc it reminds me of old ass creepypasta fics where everyone lived in slenderman's mansion in the woods loool

I'm a pretty good shot in paintball; I lean waaay stealthy as opposed to offensive when playing, so I have time to line up good headshots (I shot my brother in the side of the head once and it was the most satisfying oldest sibling moment of my life. Did it probably hurt bad bc I hit him where the mask didn't cover? Yes, but also get fucked idiot loooooooooool!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

[xbuster]

My biggest problem with Four Swords Adventure was that honestly... it looked like shit. It has a mix of Four Swords/ A Link to the Past styled sprites which I actually don't hate, but the sprites were rendered at such a low resolution and then upscaled (I imagine) bilinearly, making them ugly blurry messes with really ugly outlines that clashed with the properly rendered particle effects. It looks even worse when played at a higher resolution than native.

A while ago I tried to find some HD texture packs that remedied this and found two. One put a smoothing filter on everything (ew) and the other tried to properly upscale the sprite work. The second looked much better, but wasn't perfect. Some things didn't upscale properly and looked off.

I tried searching for another today and to my surprise, a new texture pack was released two months ago! And it's exactly what I was looking for!!!!

Original game upscaled at 1080p:

Game upscaled at 1080p with HD texture pack:

It looks gorgeous!

If this interests anyone, download the HD texture pack here.

[aimfor-theheart]

no one warns you that when you start playing bg3 you’ll want to write about your tav and all their dynamics with the other characters

[synthshenanigans]

if anyone sees a Soul in splatoon 3 no you didnt

[rosicheeks]

https://open.spotify.com/track/6yl8Es1tCYD9WdSkeVLFw4?si=m2Nz_oTzQs-BXbqSCukHWA

Fucking CLASSIC 🎸🎸 another really good sex song hehe

[funsizedcrow]

since i succesfully manifested playable zelda into existence im going to put all of my thought into imagining another four swords game

[cheemken]

To add more lore to the Rebellion AU (ig we’re calling it that?) and to just talk about the Battle Bond Ability, what if Iris died in that AU because she and Haxorus couldn’t unlock the ability

Like we couldn’t decide on what caused the AU to split, so why not have it as that? Imagine just, Iris survived and got away from Team Plasmas capture because that was the moment Haxorus and Iris became one and used the Bond Phenomenon for the very first time. Overpowering all the Team Plasma Members and escaping with their lives

But in the Rebellion AU, Iris and Haxorus just, never clicked like they were supposed to. So they got defeated and captured, and no matter how much Iris cried for Haxorus to get up or for any of her Pokémon to continue fighting, she was eventually restrained and taken to the Castle. And we know what happens from here

Ough just imagine in the future, when all the commotion dies down and they’re trying to figure out how to send Iris back to her own Universe, she tries to start a conversation with Bianca; asking her if she still studies the Bond Phenomenon or if she’s to busy to do that now. But you know, Bianca is just real fucking confused about what Iris is talking about. Because she’s never heard or seen anything like that

Your honour that got me feeling like

OUGHFHFJCBCNXHXKD PLS THATS SO FUCKED UP😭😭😭

Wait cause cjdnndndb imagine yeah like you said they're now trying to figure out how to get this Iris back to her own universe, and even Iris is like, updating the other Champions too, so all of them can go home together. But like chdmdb your honour pls Iris and Bianca w each other talking and it got to the point Iris asks her abt her studies and Bianca, for once getting some sort of closure at the normalcy of their conversation, shared her studies with her, "I've been researching more about the origins of pokemon, just like Professor Juniper," she said, tho there's doubt in her eyes, "I hope she's proud at the progress I'm making.."

Ough your honour pls smth soft, Iris taking Bianca's hand and going "I'm sure she's proud of you!" Then ofc, smth in her clicked, thinking abt what Bianca said, then she asks, "but.. you study origins now? I thought you'd be studying about the Bond Phenomena here too."

But then Bianca gives a look, both confused and intrigued, "the.. Bond Phenomena? What's that?"

"huh.. you don't know..?"

"no.. I've never heard anything about that, does a thing like that even exist?"

And Iris ends up explaining to her what it is, how the deep bond she has with Haxorus made him surpass evolution, something akin to Mega Evolution, Bianca had noted, but Iris said it's also a bit different than that. Then she demonstrated y'know, calling out Haxorus, the two reaching out to activate the Bond Phenomena, and Haxorus' appearance changed, how he now has similar features to Iris. And ough. OUGH CBDMBDMD your honour fucking imagine chdnxn

Imagine Bianca staring at them in awe, then there's this sudden flash, sudden shift of scenery, in a better timeline, in a better universe, she's there watching Iris train with Hilbert, Hilbert's Emboar also looked different, also having similar features like its trainer; they were laughing, having fun as they trained, and then her visions blurred, she blinked, and when she looked up again, Iris is there looking at her worried, wiping away her tears, and god Bianca just broke man; Iris was so soft, and so gentle, and so caring and this is what could've been if her— their Iris was still around but she's not anymore.

So Bianca's there trying to wipe her own tears, trying to stop herself from crying, trying to tell Iris that she's okay, she's fine, she... She wrapped her arms around Iris, sobbing on her chest, pulling her impossibly closer, afraid she's going to disappear again. And oughfhf your honour pls, Iris trying to comfort Bianca, but hcndbd Bianca just whispering through her sobs, "please don't go.. don't leave me again.." and it broke Iris too your honour pls nsbdnd

[kolsmikaelson]

AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…

NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me

WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!

REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post

None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch. 

You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. 

“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground. 

Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out. 

“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”

For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there. 

“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. 

“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again. 

Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine. 

“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger. 

“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.

At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it. 

He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before. 

I want him to join.

You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment. 

“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question. 

Almost. 

“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more. 

“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him. 

Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat. 

The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good. 

Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay. 

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said. 

“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear. 

“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him. 

“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly. 

Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod. 

“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”

The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art. 

They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 

At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock. 

Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak. 

“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing. 

“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art. 

“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again. 

“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence. 

“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’

[luveline]

hiiii if you’re still looking for remus centered requests, i rly liked your best friend steve giving reader a hickey and couldn’t help but think of Remus too! like him helping a shy reader not feel insecure about being the ‘inexperienced’ one of their friend group… by giving her some experience 👀💞? love ya lots!

love u thank u for requesting<3

—Remus gives you your first kiss, and then a little more than that. You know, between friends. fem, 1.2k

“Will anyone kiss me tonight, or shall I go unkissed, like some leper?” 

You laugh at Sirius’ drama. “It’s not so terrible,” you say, coming up the hallway behind him and James, your face bitten by the cold. 

“I know, my lovely little blueberry muffin,” Sirius croons, leaning back and prodding at your cheeks, the smell of cider stuck to him like a cloud, “how you remain unkissed is a mystery to me. Shall we fix that now?” 

Sirius is your friend, he doesn’t poke fun, but you flush nervously at his question. James grabs Sirius by the shoulders and yanks him away from you toward the kitchen, “Stop teasing!” 

“I’m not teasing! I would love to kiss you, sweetheart, just as soon as I can figure out which one of you is the real one,” Sirius says. 

Remus laughs and closes the front door, the last one in. He wraps his hand around your shoulders. “He’d be so lucky,” he says loudly, sending a sulking, pouting Sirius in the opposite direction, James on his tail in giggles promising to feed him some unbuttered toast if he doesn’t chill out. 

Remus’ arm falls behind your back. “Why does he act like that? Four drinks and he’s in love with everyone. He gets so urgent.” 

You confess slowly, “I can’t say I blame him. Sometimes… I wish someone would kiss me quite urgently, and I don’t even need to get drunk.”

“You do?” 

“Just because I’ve never had one doesn’t mean I don’t want one,” you say, “it’s really weird being the only one who doesn’t– who isn’t dating anyone.” You fluster at your confession, worried it’s too much to share, even while his thumb rubs affectionately into your shoulder. 

“I’m not dating anyone,” Remus says. 

“No, but, going for hookups and stuff–”

You falter as he laughs. “You want one night stands?” 

“No,” you say honestly, “but still. You’ve all done that stuff and I’m like, a twenty something loser.” 

“You listen to Sirius too much. You have an entire life to find someone to kiss you.” 

“I sort of want it now, though,” you say meekly. 

Remus laughs again, his arm wrapping tightly behind your back. You’ve both had a drink too, not tipsy like Sirius but the buzz of it perhaps the cause of your loosened tongue, and his easy touching, his teasing. He smiles down at you kindly, “You want a kiss, is that it?” he asks, “Sirius has upset you and a kiss will make it better?” 

You find you love the feeling of his chest pressed to yours, “I don’t know. It would be nice to have one just so he can stop talking about it.” 

He pulls you right into him and angles his face against yours like he’s going to kiss you, his laughing a soft warmth on the tip of your nose. “You want it right now?” he asks, his hand rubbing sweetly into your back. Layers of fabric feel useless; it’s like he’s caressing naked skin. 

“You can’t kiss me,” you say. 

“Why not?” 

“We’re friends.” 

“What’s a good kiss between friends?” He’s following your eyes, he knows all your tones, Remus wouldn’t play with you like this if he thought it wasn’t what you wanted.

“I won’t know how to do it,” you warn in a whisper, your reluctance clearly fading.  

“Well, you’re very pretty, so any bad kissing cancels out.” 

You bend into him as his arm pulls you up, your noses nearly touching, closing your eyes as he leans in. 

“You sure?” he asks. 

“Mm,” you hum, though he doesn’t kiss you until you nod. 

Your noses press together most of all, the strongest sensation, but then there’s heat as his lips part so slightly and press into yours. He kisses upward and you have the sense to keep pressing down, letting his soft kisses move you with him, like an ebbing wave. You take an instinctive step back and he pauses, until you attempt to kiss him again and prompt him into movement —he takes the lead. His hands grasp at your back like you’re water slipping through his fingers, letting a sound of pleasure filter from his lips into yours. 

It’s so peculiar. It’s like fireworks, like all the books and movies say, but it’s more. It’s so warm, and his lips are soft even as his kissing turns rougher, as he tilts his head to the side and his lips come apart against yours. Your hand climbs hesitantly against his side, then up, then stuck at the place just above his ribs. 

“Touch me,” he says gently, breaking the kiss as your breath comes fast, “wrap your arm around me, it’s alright.” 

“Am I hopeless?” you ask, placing your arm behind his shoulder and tipping back to see his face. 

He shakes his head, frowning, why is he frowning? “Hopeless?” he repeats. His hand comes up to your face, and that’s almost as bad as the kiss, the heat of his palm on your face and his thumb stroking over the slope of your cheek. He uses that movement to turn your head, and when he ducks in for another kiss, he murmurs, “No, I wouldn’t say hopeless,” the end of it lost on your lips. 

This kiss is rougher again. Your heart beats so loudly you can hear the thump of it in your ears as your eyes close and you attempt to fit a hundred wanted kisses into one. He just squeezes you close and returns your enthusiasm, until you can’t breathe, forced to hang your head over his shoulder as you pant for air. 

Remus kisses your neck. It’s a shock: you squirm at the sensation but let your head fall to the side as he does it again, not nearly as insistent as his lips had been on yours but something unsaid in the trail of his nose as it runs back up your neck and he kisses the skin below your ear. He slows, and slows, until he’s pulling away to stare at you. 

You lift yourself up, nonplussed. “I didn’t know it felt like that.” 

Remus shifts his hand from the side of your neck to the front, wiping at the marks of his kissing with his thumb where it wets your skin. “It doesn’t always.” He smiles at you with just a hint of smugness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you want to know what a love bite feels like?” 

“Oi!” James calls from the kitchen. “What are you two doing?” 

You pull apart slowly from one another. You think he might’ve forgotten where you were, as did you. 

James catches the fall of Remus’ hand where it had been on your cheek and squints suspiciously. “What are you guys doing? I made toast.” 

You can’t look at him. Remus saves the day. “We’re looking for her earring.” 

“You won’t find it with the lights off.” He glares again with suspicion before turning back to the kitchen. “I didn’t even know she wore earrings,” he mutters. 

Remus gives you a sideways look. “Maybe I can show you what it feels like after?” he suggests, voice measured. 

“Between friends?” you ask. 

“No.” He puts his hand to the small of your back and gives you a gentle nudge down the hallway. “Not between friends.”