#because NONE OF THE MAPS FUCKING LOOK THE SAME

[ivy-and-ivory]

Hey :) So the next time you hear me start to say :) hmmmm :) maybe I should set this fic in a highly specific real-world location :) that might be kind of fun :) the next time I say that :) please :) for the love of god :) somebody :) fucking :) stop :) me :)

[inkskinned]

in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).

you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.

you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.

you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.

the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.

you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.

but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.

all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.

the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.

and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.

after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.

[wonysugar]

fuck you stupid | ning yizhuo

synopsis : you thought you’d seen it all with her, but no, she somehow managed to surprise you even further.

pairing : bimbo!ningning x fem!reader

genre : bffs to... fwb?? idk they just fuck,, so obviously smut too! xx

tags : yall got lost help, fingering, degradation, belittling, dumbification, car sex, she's so stupid but she fucks you good so it's okay, very slight cunnilingus, she slaps you like once so impact play!

warnings : none!

word count : 1.6k

you, y/n l/n, weren’t exactly smart, but you also weren’t exactly stupid. like yeah, you weren’t a genius per se, but it’s not like you were brain dead either. average was the term you always used to describe your intelligence.

you unfortunately couldn’t say the same about ning yizhuo, your best friend. 

you loved her, like that’s your bitch, of course you love her! however, you’d be lying if you said that she was intellectually capable, because she just wasn’t. god, she was just so, so painfully stupid?? clumsy??? careless???? all of the above applied when it came to this woman. not even to be mean or anything of the sorts, just, yknow… natural selection at its finest.

she was aware of that, though, and even thrived in being the self proclaimed bimbo everyone knew and loved. (to which you wholeheartedly agree with, by the way) and honestly? you just couldn’t stop teasing her about it whenever you two hung out. things similar to “stupid hoe” and “dumbass” always escaping your mouth as you two laughed, probably moments after she bumped onto something on the sidewalk whilst spilling all the tea to you. 

in summary, she’s done stupid shit before, but nothing, nothing could ever top what she had done that day.

the day she got the both of you lost in some random parking lot at like, 2 am.

“ning, we’re fucking lost.” you told her, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you watched her giggle nervously.

she grabbed her cellphone and hovered her finger over the power button, “oh come on y/n don’t be like that, i can just go on google maps and we’ll be out of here in no ti-“

a black screen.

she cleared her throat hesitantly, sighed, then pressed the button again.

nothing.

she kept doing that, giving longer presses to the side of her phone in hopes of a miracle . your patience was running thin and you were quite frankly not far from panicking.

after the 27th-ish try, you finally snapped at her.

“fucking hell ning do you not charge your damn phone??” 

“sorry that i forgot to?” 

oh she had to be joking. 

“girl oh my god what the fuck?? we’ll stay stuck here for only god knows how long and it’s all gonna be because ‘ning yizhuo forgot to charge her phone beforehand’ for fuck’s sake.” you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation. trying to calm down, you ignored ning’s gaze.

her stupid annoying yapping wasn’t helping at all. like, at all.

“oh so we’re once again blaming me, got it. y/n you didn’t even bring your own phone, how do you have the audacity to put the blame on me.” she said back, her eyebrow raised up as she threw her phone down on her skirt, sighing exasperatedly. 

“because someone told me it was her turn to get the aux.”

“where in that sentence did i ever tell you not to bring your phone??”

“god, ning just- just stay quiet. okay? just- please shut up, i’m trying to think. we can’t rely on you for anything.” you told her, exasperated.

in response, she scoffed, “no?? no i won’t, actually. you’re always putting the blame on me and it’s seriously starting to piss me the fuck off. yeah i’m a bimbo, whatever, but does that mean that you have to talk to me like i only have two barely functioning brain cells??” 

“oh please, saying you have two functioning brain cells would be wayy too generous. you’re always doing the stupidest shit out of the two of us. i mean fuck, you literally drove us here, in the middle of nowhere. you’re not a bimbo, you’re just fucking dumb, ning.”

when you looked back at her, she seemed hurt. like, 

a wave of guilt quickly washed over you upon seeing her pained, pained expression. she looked into your eyes, frustration and sadness clearly showing into her own. yeah, she looked pissed. you wanted to apologize almost immediately, and you were going to, 

if she didn’t suddenly press her lips onto yours before you could even get a word out. 

-

how do best friends make up after a fight?

usually, they talk it out, they go out, hug it out then get milkshakes or whatever, hell, sometimes they just go a day or two without talking then eventually forget about it.

this? this was none of that.

since she planted a kiss on your lips, you, instead of doing anything stated above, were fucking.

like, yeahh you were still lost, but at least you were getting your pussy ravaged. the situation could be handled later; when you weren’t drenched.

throwing your head back as you moaned out ning’s name, you were straddling her in the backseat of her car, feeling her two fingers deep inside you and stretching you out. she looked up at you with lustfully hooded eyes as she kissed and left very visible marks all over your neck, all the way down to your collarbone, her free hand fondling your tits, lazily playing with the nipple. 

“f-fuck ning keep going i’m sososo close- fuckfuckfuck..” feeling yourself getting pushed closer to the edge by the friction you felt, you bucked your hips faster onto her digits. the knot tying in your stomach felt like it would’ve snapped any second now, that is,

until she stopped moving her fingers altogether.

frustrated, you whined loudly, “ninggg please let me cum pleaseplease-” 

“oh yeah? so now you wanna rely on me for something, and it’s to make you cum?” she laughed. “fucking slut. i’ll make you cum whenever i want to, got it, bitch?” she added, pressing her thumb on your swollen throbbing clit, smirking condescendingly and watching how pretty you looked when pleasure contorted your face.

you unintentionally clenched at her words, nodding shamefully. it was embarrassing enough having your best friend knuckles deep inside of you, having her call you names and whatnot, but the real embarrassing part? 

enjoying it thoroughly.

she knew this, she knew she had you wrapped around her finger at that moment and oh was it such a power trip for her. seeing you be so needy for her touch, you almost started riding her fingers yourself, too. she was always the one being treated like a dumb bitch, it was nice being on the other side of things, for a change. 

she kept twisting and pulling on your nipple with her free hand as she slowly started to slide her fingers up and down your walls again, giggling and paying close attention to how your body shook and twitched at each and every one of her slow movements. what a sight to see. 

“you like being fucked stupid hm?”

and that’s what she did,

seconds,

minutes,

what felt likes hours,

you were sloppily bouncing and grinding on her fingers, speed ranging from a painful slowness to an overwhelming rapidity. 

you gripped her arms tightly, as if you would fall into some sort of void if you didn’t hold onto her for dear life. resting your head on her shoulder, you whined, losing yourself onto her. her fingers were still pumping in and out of you at that moment, faster than they were before, by the way, so it took you all of your body strength to not just cum right then and there, but you managed to hold back. for her, you held back and took all of it. every minute passing, every single motion feeling like it was threatening to make you go insane. 

“ning pleaseplease let me cum i wanna cum so badly fuck- pleasepleasepleasepleaseee-” you begged, looking down at her with pleading teary eyes.

“fuck, look at you. calling me a dumb bitch all the time, yet here you are, acting oh so stupid for my fingers. such a brainless needy little whore for me, hm? does my idiotic, pretty girl wanna cum?” 

you nodded eagerly as you whined, tears actively running down both of your cheeks, so desperate for release that you quite honestly didn’t care for how ridiculous you looked to her at that moment. you just wanted to cum, so, so, so badly, and you were ready to give up your dignity for it.

the sound of her hand slapping your cheek resonated in the car.

“say it. you know damn well i don’t accept pathetic sounds for an answer.”

“fuck— your idiotic pretty girl wants to cum pleaseee let her–”

she hummed, smirking at your response. incredibly amused by your behavior, she took her fingers out of you, picked you up by placing her hands on your thighs, then gently put you on the empty seat that was next to the one she occupied. upon seeing you sat comfortably, she proceeded to kneel down on the empty space between the front seats and the backseats. y’know,

the ones a grown woman couldn’t possibly fit in?

it’s okay though, like, yeah she would most definitely complain about back pain later, but right now?

she needed to feel you cum all over her tongue.

and that’s exactly what she worked towards, her tongue driven by the scent of your arousal to roam all over your folds and clit, kissing and sucking on every inch of your core as she attentively listened to all the sweet noises that came out of you. it really did not take long before your moans reached octaves you didn’t even know you could achieve before, an overwhelming wave of relief hitting you like a truck. you were 100% sure you would pass out afterwards.

at the end of the day, yeah, you both were still stranded in the middle of some unknown parking lot, but at least, the stress of it all evaporated in the air.

while you were trying to catch your breath, you made a mental note;

never underestimate ning’s intelligence when she was in a bad mood! or, do. depending on if you wanna get fucked stupid that day or not.

[puck-luck]

forced proximity with jack even though you guys are enemies… so you guys say 👀

lucky lift | jack hughes

warnings: elevator sex, enemies to FWB, secret pining on jack’s side, hj, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing/general dirty talk (aka i just like writing dialogue) pairing: jack hughes x reader summary: the one when you hook up with your work enemy on a whim wc: 1468

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” You hiss. “You know I don’t like this any more than you do.”

To top off a shitty day, in which you had woken up late, spilled coffee on the shirt that you had been waiting to wear all week, and tripped up the stairs in full view of everyone in the office, you were now stuck– nay, you were trapped, cornered, imprisoned– in the elevator with none other than Jack Hughes.

You and Jack had been working at this company for the same amount of time, both of you hired in the same week, trained by the same people, and working on the same projects. You hated each other. You supposed you hated Jack first, but it was only because he made everything so competitive. He claimed he couldn’t help it when your work bestie brought it up to him (much to your chagrin), “because he was an athlete when he was younger.”

In an ideal world, this “athlete” could pry open the doors of the elevator so you could make an escape. Instead, he’s staring at you with an amused smirk on his face while you do all the work.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Jack scoffs. 

“Maybe I do hate it more than you,” You bite back. “You seem awfully content over there to watch me do all the work.”

“I called for help,” Jack reminds you. “They said two hours. To me. I don’t remember you offering to call.”

“I didn’t have service,” You say through gritted teeth. 

“Get a better provider,” Jack says in the same tone. 

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

“I think you’re really easy to piss off.” Jack’s smile pulls at the sides of his lips in a way that’s almost endearing, but you also want to wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze.

“I think you–”

“I also think the stain on your shirt from your coffee has gotten worse with the sweat from all your efforts to escape,” Jack interrupts. “Maybe you should take it off.”

The initial surprise that came with his statement turns to anger at his arrogance. “Excuse me?” You exclaim, stalking over to him and whacking his arm. “You’re coming onto me? As if you couldn’t make this situation any worse?”

“We might as well have fun with it,” Jack says with a shrug, shying away from your violent slaps. 

“I don’t even like you,” You point out. “You don’t even like me.”

Jack reaches a hand up and cups your cheek, silencing you. “Does it matter?” 

The weight of his hand against your face and the pure honesty of his tone causes your stomach to turn. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of him like that before, but it was rare. It was during the monthly meetings Jack led, when he had to wear more business professional clothing, and he always decided to roll up his sleeves post-meeting and lose the jacket. You usually caught him in the break room brewing his own coffee, focused and straight-faced like he was about to reenter the meeting rather than celebrate its end. 

“No,” You decide. 

You allow him to pull you in, pressing your lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss. You never thought Jack was the kind to savor something, but here you were. He’s slow with his movements, his fingers trailing over your curves and ridges like he’s trying to map your body. 

“You’re going too slow,” You complain, palming the front of his dress pants. You fit your hand on his bulge, rubbing over it until he lets out a moan. “Let’s speed things up.”

“I want to enjoy this,” Jack mumbles and you can barely hear him.

“You will,” You tell him, unzipping his pants and reaching into his boxers. You circle your hand around his dick, pumping him from base to tip, using his precum to make the glide smoother. 

“No,” Jack groans and tilts his head back. “I want to enjoy this.”

You pause your movements. “What do you mean?”

“I–” Jack bucks his hips up into your hand, your grip loose around him while you wait for him to explain. “You’re just so pretty when you’re mad at me.”

“Oh,” You breathe out. 

“And you’re mad at me all the time,” Jack whines. He pushes you against the wall of the elevator, leaning in to leave kisses along your neck. He sucks at the underside of your jaw, leaving a cool circle of saliva when he trails his lips lower. “Wanted to fuck you for so long now, Y/N.”

He presses his hips into your body, your hand still trapped in his pants. You remove it as his hands cover the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, you immediately circling your legs around his waist. He uses one hand to push his pants down, his belt clinking against the floor as the fabric pools around his feet. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth and causing him to groan. Jack pulls your skirt up and moves your panties to the side, movements quick now that he admitted his secret to you.

He presses himself inside of you, feeding his cock into your tight, wet cunt. 

“Feels so good,” Jack whispers. “So tight, baby. So wet.”

“Fuck me, Jack,” You tell him, voice strong. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Gonna,” Jack agrees with a moan, rolling his hips sensually. 

Jack steps forward until he can hold you up against the wall and push one leg so your ankle rests on his shoulder. He turns and gives your ankle a kiss, then bows his head to watch himself enter you to a rhythm that only he knows. Jack moves like he’s drunk on the feeling of you, soft noises falling from his lips like he’s trying not to be too loud. You can almost feel the elevator shaking with his movements.

“Not gonna last,” Jack chokes out, clutching at your waist. 

“Gonna come in me?” You tease, nipping at Jack’s earlobe.

Jack lets out a high keen, his mouth falling open and his eyelids fluttering shut as your entrance flutters around him, causing him to come undone inside of you. His breaths come out as stuttered as his thrusts do, his come warm inside you and leaking out when he draws himself out of you. 

Jack keeps you pressed against the wall of the elevator, but lowers himself to his knees.

“Gonna clean you up,” Jack promises. Your thighs rest on his shoulders, your ankles crossed behind his back. His hands pull at your ass cheeks, kneading them. 

“J,” You whimper when Jack attaches his lips to your entrance. He moans against your hole, flicking his tongue against your hole like a dog drinking from a bowl of water. He nuzzles his face into your cunt and brings a hand around to rub your clit in quick circles.

“Y’look so good,” Jack praises, his eyes so big and blue from where they look up at you. “You gonna come? Gonna mix us together, give me something to really enjoy?”

“Oh,” You exclaim, your fingers lacing into Jack’s hair. Your hips buck against his face and he slips a finger into your hole, pushing it in and out of you and curling it as he laps at your clit. “Fuck, Jack, just like that.”

Miraculously, he listens to you and only intensifies his actions, pumping a second finger into you.

You choke on a wail as you come on his fingers, the climax causing your head to fall back against the wall of the elevator with force. Jack stifles a laugh, but continues to lick at your come (and his own) until you’re removing your hands from his hair and trying to get your feet back on solid ground.

“You know, I like you like this,” Jack teases, fixing your panties for you and moving your skirt back to its original position. He pulls his own pants up when he rises, tucking himself away and buckling his belt with his very talented fingers. “All fucked out.”

“If anything, I’m the one who fucked you,” You bite back. “You came first and you ate your own come out of me."

“Mmm, next time I’ll leave it inside of you,” Jack says with a short kiss to your neck, adjusting the collar of your blouse. His hand ghosts over your neck and he feels the way your breath hitches. “Maybe we should get to the office early one day and I’ll bend you over my desk. You’ll have to walk around all day, feeling my come drip out of you. You’ll be begging me to clean you up then.”

note: ugh office enemies is a trope that i need in my life. if i'm going to be a slave to the work force i am going to fuck my hot enemy jack hughes whenever i can!

[ddejavvu]

hi hi, I loveee your animagus collection!! I was wondering if you could do one where reader appears all scratched up and injured cuz she got in a fight with another cat in her animagus form. thanks!!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

--

Sirius knows to expect your presence from your spot on the map that's moving hurriedly towards his dorm, a powerful stride from how you're blowing past other names quicker than they can step out of your way. He's glad that none of them seem to stop you or confront your seemingly abrasive speed, and he's equal parts curious and petrified when you finally burst through the door.

Most of it melts away though, heated and liquified and dripping into his stomach by a burning panic that seals itself around his heart and lungs instead.

Your face is scratched, lines of blood-red crust slowly darkening the more you expose them to the air. He's sure they'd dried and scabbed quickly as you'd stormed through the castle to find him, and he's worried they're contaminated before he's had the chance to clean them out.

"Darling," He stands abruptly, noticing similar scratches across the rest of you, and even a bite mark, pinpricks of violence and spit laid into your arm like twin red flags, "What- what happened to you?"

"I got in a fight," You grumble, and for all of the enthusiasm you'd had storming into the room, you stand there now, letting it leak out of you like air from a balloon that had once been close to popping.

"With who?" Sirius's brain does not register the conflicting statements; how a punch to the eye could result in fang prints in your forearm.

"Muffy," You spit the cat's name like a dirty word, emphasizing it's dull stuffiness, "She came and sat in my sunspot, and I was gonna let her share it, too, but then she started bitching at me to move!"

Sirius's limbs loosen from where they'd been locked tightly in place, and he remains standing where he has been all this time, watching you explain your tussle with astonished curiosity written on his face.

"I didn't, but then she started batting at me," You recall with bitter disdain on your tongue, the same sting that you'd felt when the other cat's claws had sunk into your fur, "Before I knew it, she was just going at me, like- like some fucking animal! Well- like- like some other kind of animal."

Sirius steps forwards to take your arm in his own, and inspect the only bite mark he can see. It's angry and vicious, though it doesn't look like there's blood seeping from it anymore, and he makes a mental note to disinfect all of your abrasions in case Muffy had indulged in something unsanitary for breakfast.

"I'm sorry, darling." Sirius says, both because he means it and because he doesn't know what else to say. It's teetering on the edge of absurdity that you managed to scrap with a cat and come away looking like you'd lost, and he wonders if you'd fled the scene on four paws, or two legs. Both would be comical to him if you weren't hurt, so he pushes the thoughts out of his head and steers you into the bathroom by what he hopes is an uninjured shoulder.

He sits you on the counter with ease, and from the hiss that you let out, the cool marble bites at the scrapes on the backs of your thighs. But they seem to mellow into a soothing effect, and you relax into them, your flesh flattening out as Sirius rummages through the cabinet below.

"Muffy's quite vicious," Sirius muses, rubbing disinfectant on a cut along your cheek, "This one might scar."

You groan, the sound nearly gruff enough to be a growl, "Oh, get her back for me Sirius, would you?"

"Get her back-?" His raven-black brows furrow, and he glances away from the cut up a few inches to your eyes, "What do you mean, darling?"

"I mean you're a big scary guard dog," You push pleadingly at his shoulder, "Just- snap your jaws at her, or something! Please?"

"I'm not sure Prewett would like it very much if I traumatized her cat," Sirius muses guiltily, but he's persuaded when you let loose the most devastatingly gut-wrenching pair of puppy eyes that he's ever seen, far more powerful than anything even his canine form could produce.

"Oh, fine," He sighs, his lips finding purchase at the bridge of your nose, in an awkward crevice between your brow-split and your eye, "Darling, you know I love you, but next time, please tussle with a cat that isn't so terrifying?"

[sxcret-garden]

Mingi ღ NSFW Alphabet [M]

ღ Ateez - NSFW Alphabets ღ Ateez Mingi x gn!reader ღ words: ~3.1k ღ genre: smut ღ warnings: none

A = Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

Will do his best to do aftercare for you, but I think it’ll usually be you taking care of him afterwards. He tends to really wear himself out, especially when you’re going at it for a longer time. However, he’ll also usually be in a very cuddly mood afterwards, so after you’ve gotten yourselves some water and cleaned yourselves up, he will welcome you into his arms and hold you tight. Places soft kisses in any spots where he might’ve been rough with you, and will let his fingertips draw mindless patterns all over you. To be honest he could stay like this for hours, but eventually he will either allow the two of you to drift off to sleep, or let yourselves get on with your days.

B = Body part (his favorite body part of his partner)

The little details! He strikes me as someone who will be fascinated by your shape and definitely takes his time to worship you too, so in general he makes sure you can feel how much he loves your body overall. But he will pay especially much attention to moles, birthmarks, scars, and the likes. Likes to study the placement of each as his hands and lips are mapping out your body, and eventually he will remember their exact spots even when you’re fully dressed.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

Really doesn’t mind much where he cums, and strikes me as the type where things might get a little messy. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a favourite place to cum. Loves it when you suck him off and let him cum in your mouth, will visibly gulp at the sight if you swallow. Idk what it is, but he just can’t look away from the image of you taking his load at once - especially if there’s some stains on your lips or chin afterwards.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret or secret desire of his)

A secret desire that keeps popping up in his head is the thought of you sucking him off with his or your friends in the other room. Something about having to keep quiet and at the same time having to hurry so you won’t get caught is just very hot to him, but this is probably something that’s more of a fantasy he has, and not something he absolutely wants to turn into a reality. If it happens - great! If not - also fine by him.

E = Experience (how experienced is he?)

This is a tough one because the answer could literally be anything. What I think is that he’s slow at gathering experience first, and probably the type to exclusively sleep with a partner, because he really needs a certain level of trust to have sex with someone. But I also think he’s actually pretty dirty deep down, and so once he starts getting some experience, he’ll quickly gain some more. So I’d say he has his fair share of experience!

F = Favorite position 

You on top of him! Strikes me as an ass-enjoyer, so depending on his mood he wants you simply riding him while facing him, or facing away in reverse cowgirl. Loves it when you’re on top of him and you set the pace while he can marvel at the sight in front of him and let his hands wander your body. What he also likes about this position is that it’s easy for him to control how much power you have, and if he feels like it he’ll simply grab onto your hips to guide you into the rhythm he wants.

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous?)

Shy during his first sexual encounters with a new partner, so he will feel thankful if they’re a light-hearted person and don’t take things too seriously. If you laugh, he will laugh along! But after getting familiar with each other his burning passion will take over and there often won’t be much time to laugh in between fucking each other real good.

H = Headspace (how much does he think about it/you during the day? how elaborate are his fantasies?)

Whether he wants it or not, sexual thoughts will randomly pop up in his head throughout the day. Usually it really is just a thought that floats by and is soon forgotten, but especially when he’s just started getting intimate with someone these thoughts can be rather distracting. Has pretty elaborate fantasies when he gets off by himself, but otherwise keeps it at a level that won’t give him a visible boner in public dksjfklasdjfa

I = Intimacy (how passionate or romantic is he?)

He can be very romantic!! He’s definitely the type of person to want to just make sweet love to his partner every now and then, and though he can be a bit clumsy, the way he touches you and talks to you during will make your heart soar. He’s so sweet and will take his time with you, exploring your body as if it was the first time, and watching as he has his breath taken away by how beautiful he thinks you are makes you fall in love with him all over again. However, I’m convinced there’s also a not so soft side to him, and when that comes out his touches feel like fire burning your skin. He’s full of need at times like these, in a way where he manages to sweep you off your feet effortlessly.

J = Jack off (how does he masturbate and how often?)

Likes to deliberately take time out of his days to get off. Like he will pick a day and then plan for a few hours of “me-time” in the evening and get really into the mood as he lets his hands wander and take care of himself. Might turn on some music and let his mind get to work, might watch porn to get him going, but his favourite thing to accompany his masturbation sessions are voice mails by his partner. Loves simply hearing your voice moaning into his ears as you’re getting off yourself, but he’d also be very curious to try guided masturbation if you’re open to that!

K = Kink (one of his kinks)

I’m gonna go nice and simple with this and say biting! He undoubtedly has a bit of a thing for pain (or maybe more than a bit, who knows…) and so you sinking your teeth into his skin just gets him going. Loves the feeling of the pain mixing in with the pleasure and goes absolutely crazy if you bite down real hard as your own pleasure is overwhelming you. He will let out a pained noise, but don’t be mistaken - he’s totally into this and he could cum from that alone. Will wear your bite marks like a medal and as proof of just how good he can make you feel, but at the same time they serve as a reminder of how good you can make him feel too. He’s more than happy to return the favour if you’re into that too, though he tends to be more careful with his partner than the other way around.

L = Location (favorite places to do it)

The comfort of his or your home is still his nr 1 spot to do it. It’s just where he feels safest to be completely himself and to lose himself in the act, but if the situation is dire he’ll also opt for a less private space. Semi-public is totally okay for him sometimes, and especially when he’s really horny he doesn’t worry about being caught too much. But overall I’d say at home, in the comfort of your or his bedroom is his best choice.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

He’s so easily turned on (and has also become pretty good at hiding it if the time or place aren’t appropriate) that at times it’s enough for him to catch a glimpse of you and his mind will already spew ideas at him about what he wants to do with you. While having sex what especially motivates him to keep going are definitely your moans, but aside from what I wrote about biting earlier, it’s also the way you cling to him desperately, let your nails run down his bare back, etcetc. But it’s also your praises, when you tell him what a good boy he is for you, and sometimes also your teasing, prompting him to do more, to impress you, to earn your touch.

N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Stuff like humiliation and degradation are a bit difficult for him. Being on the receiving end is okay for him, so long as his partner doesn’t take it too far. Will definitely get off on you degrading him a bit at the right time, but if you do it too much this will quickly make him actually feel bad. However, he would never do that to you, he just can’t bring himself to. He can tease you sometimes, that much is fine, but he can’t bring himself to humiliate or degrade his partner. Maybe if you’re super into it he’ll eventually give it a try, but it’s still not his favourite thing to do to you ever.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both, but prefers receiving head over giving. Definitely the type to grab your hair (if possible) and to control the pace as he fucks your mouth and gets really into it to the point you might feel the need to slow him down a bit. He likes it when things get messy, so if you give him permission he will sometimes pull out just in time to cum all over your face.

Though he prefers receiving, he certainly gets very into it when it’s his turn to do oral on you. Once he gets a literal taste of you he could spend hours just giving you head, and you bet that even if he wasn’t so skilled at first, he’ll know just how to sweep you off your feet in no time.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He definitely has his slow and sensual moments where he’s having sex with you less as a way to chase pleasure, and more as a means to make you feel just how much he loves you. However, I think usually when he’s the one setting the pace he’d be impatient and his desire for you would translate into touches on the rougher side. Whether that’s manhandling you a bit and grabbing you with a bit too much force, or if it’s him deliberately sinking his nails into your flesh, he’s INTENSE to say the least. Will fuck you especially rough in the chase of his own orgasm, and if you let him know it’s something that you enjoy as well, he’ll definitely stop holding back completely.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies?)

Quickies are way too short for him, but that doesn’t mean he can resist the temptation. Especially when you two are out somewhere and you keep teasing each other and riling each other up, unnoticed by everyone else in the room, it’s very likely that he will eventually grab you by the wrist and drag you out of there and into a room where you can be by yourselves. The need and the urgency behind the way he gets your clothes out of the way just enough for him to slip inside you is already driving you crazy, and with how desperately he’s racing towards his release while doing everything he can think of to have you reach your high just as fast, there’s really no way either of you is going to last long.

R = Risk (does he like to experiment or take risks?)

He’s a bit hesitant with introducing new things to the bedroom, both from his side and if his partner brings up something that they want to try, especially if it’s something he’s not super familiar with. However, after talking it through he’s very likely to be willing to at least try, and a lot of the time when you have an idea on what you could both like, he ends up very much enjoying it. 

He definitely is a risk-taker as in… not always thinking of wearing a condom. He might sulk a bit if you tell him you’re definitely not having unprotected sex with him, but he’ll understand jfkdsfjlajksflsa but also the sight of his cum dripping out of you is just too damn hot to him, and he may or may not feel the need to give you yet another orgasm as your and his taste are mixing on his tongue…

S = Stamina (how long does he last?)

When he really gets into it, he cums fairly quickly, but he recovers just as fast. Will definitely be able to manage his energies to last several rounds, the problem is just that he tends to forget to manage anything when he’s balls deep inside you and you’re both chasing your high jasdkfljsas. But with a bit of assistance and some reminders by you, this guy can definitely keep going for A WHILE.

T = Toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

Pretty sure he has toys to use on himself for when he’s masturbating, and he also won’t be opposed to sometimes using toys with a partner. Will be all for using vibrators or dildos on you, and might actually get you one he finds pretty and then watches you getting off with it. He also likes seeing you wearing stuff like anal plugs, and goes absolutely crazy if you have piercings down there.

U = Unfair (how much he likes to tease)

He’s very straightforward with what he wants and certainly not a big tease about it. Though sometimes it can be fun to push your buttons a little, he enjoys it more if he’s on the receiving end of the teasing. He’ll play along so well if you keep giving him just the bare minimum, and at the same time he will let you know just how frustrated it’s making him. And this can go two ways - either he becomes really whiny and lets you do to him whatever you want, or his patience will eventually run out and he’s going to take matters into his own hands. Depending on how much teasing he’s endured prior, he tends to get very rough with you, and he knows that, so he’ll make sure to talk this through with you beforehand to make sure he doesn’t do anything you don’t want.

V = Volume (how loud or vocal is he? what does he sound like?)

Very vocal and very loud. Though he will die of embarrassment if it turns out anyone heard you two, he couldn’t care less in the moment. Will tell you exactly what he’s thinking at any given point, including praises, what he wishes you would do to him, or what he wants to do to you. And this ranges from begging for you and making the most shameless noises as you’re on top of him, having your way with him, to growling in your ear how much he needs you and how good it feels to be inside of you when he’s taking the lead.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

Mingi lets out a desperate groan as he finally releases inside of you, filling you up with his seed. His motions come to a halt, there’s a drop of sweat making its way down his forehead, and his eyes are squeezed shut as he’s trying to catch his breath. You reach out to comb your fingers through his hair, and then eventually he begins to move on top of you. He pulls out as he sits up, spreading your legs that have been wrapped around his waist apart to get a good look at how his cum is dripping out of you slowly. You can hear him mouth a curse word, before he leans in, but then stops himself.

“Can I?” he asks, his face hovering above your core, his hot breath grazing your skin causing shivers to run down your spine. You merely nod, even though you only half expected him to bury his face between your legs, tongue immediately reaching deep into your hole. You cry out at the sensation, and your legs begin to tremble as he hums at the way your taste mixes with his own in his mouth, as he works you right towards your next orgasm. 

X = (X) as a mark (does he like marking you/being marked? where?)

Likes to leave his mark on you anywhere he can reach when he’s in the heat of the moment. Might even forget about being careful around spots where it might be hard to cover, but will move on to a different spot right away if you tell him to. Marking you as his is just something he needs to do every now and then - while he might not be super possessive he does like showing you just who you belong to, and vice versa as well. Will moan instantly when your teeth graze his skin, and the sensation of you marking him is just gonna make him need you even more.

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

High. Very high actually, but he’s very much content to take care of it himself from time to time too if your sex drive doesn’t match his. I’m convinced that not only is he a very sexual person deep inside, but he’s also pretty dirty-minded, and so it’s only natural that the need for sex would arise quite often - especially when he’s dating someone and he just can’t keep his thoughts about you safe for work. And while this does result in some pretty amazing sex due to the fact that you’re gonna learn about each other’s turn ons very quickly, he’ll also be understanding if you don’t want to have sex quite as often as he does.

Z = Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

Seems like he’d fall asleep fast but unless he’s super tired to begin with I don’t think so. Quite the opposite actually - you might end up staying up for another hour or two because of him, just talking about whatever comes to mind. In moments like these, after you’ve been intimate, he feels very strongly that he can talk to you even about the things he usually keeps hidden deep inside, so a heartfelt talk afterwards is something that does happen with him from time to time.

[tinkerbelle05]

Hii! I saw your requests for opla are open and wanted to ask if you would maybe do something really sweet and wholesome and fluffy, like cuddles or hugs, for being in an established relationship with luffy, please ^^ If you do thank you so much! but you don't have to if it's a problem

His Love Language

Characters: Luffy x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: (Requested) Thanks for the reqs 🏴‍☠️

Warning: none :)

-

Luffy was a really affectionate person. Anyone who’s had a conversation with him for more than 10 minutes can tell that he’s the physical type. It was how he showed his love to people. To you.

He wasn’t the best at declarations of love or stuff like that, so he showed it in ways that he knew best. After a long, hard day of work, he’ll give you a hug and rub your head to ease the headache.

He’d massage your shoulders and carried you places because your feet were screaming in pain.

Physical affection with acts of service.

Luffy was always touching you, no matter the time or place, he just always was. It was a constant, predictable as the sun coming up each morning.

You’d wake up yo him peppering your face with soft kisses, and throughout the day he’d be holding your hand. Depending on how crowded whatever area you two are in, his grip is loose or tight. But regardless it's always there.

Luffy, while being oblivious to most things, understood how you felt about PDA and did his absolute best not to be too touchy with you around other people. Knowing how uncomfortable it could be for you.

But he still insisted on touching the small of your back when you both are walking or running his hand through your hair when you two are laying down.

One day, you were sitting on the bed, going over some maps Nami asked you to look over. You heard the bedroom door opening and before you knew it Luffy was laying on top of you. His head fitted in the crock of your shoulder.

You weren’t even surprised at this.

“Can you shift a bit over so I can continue reading my maps?” You asked.

“Nope!” Luffy responded, popping the p. “I need to recharge and you need to break. I left in the morning and came back near evening and you are still reading those maps.”

He’s always doing this too. Deciding to just lay on you when you overworked too much. He flipped your bodies so he was laying on his back and you were on his chest. He’ll hold you close to him and just laid there for a while, in peaceful silence.

Eventually, you’d fall asleep and Luffy was always right behind you.

It’s the same for him too. Giving him compliments and doing stuff for him was fine, but you watched as he melted right into your hold when you opened your arms to him.

If you two weren’t doing anything, he’d take your hand and placed it on his head. The question, though silent, was clear. You began to absentmindedly rub his head. Dragging your fingers along his scalp.

He loved when you’d touch his face too. In the beginning you were fascinated with his stretching ability. You never stretched his cheeks that far even though he insisted that it doesn’t hurt. He loved it when you’ll trace your fingers over the palm of his hands.

His loving language was physical affection, and it was yours too.

-

Tags: @louissolovely, @randomhoex, @marceesworld, @dragonqueenfk, @puff-hugs, @childofhecate108, @nightingale2124, @foxflamewarrior, @abree234, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @purplepirateadventures, @the-skys-musical-echo, @thatgothic-nerd, @lovebunnys-world, @0picels0, @charliepoopyfart, @saturnwitheclipwze, @rotin0, @nikolaevna-art, @multifandomgirl2018, @cielitoot7, @tayharrper, @simpingmyassoff, @villainsmygods, @cherrysandmatcha, @borkbarnes, @villainouspotential, @ramielll, @fujinnn, @fuck-you-im-gae, @poketrainer2270, @tayharrper, @dazaisfavgf, @smolracoon25, @hopester08, @don-tuna, @rotin0, @avatarkanemi, @dimplewonie, @fandomsunited, @synchronised-beat, @flowerslds-blog

Taglist & Masterlist & Reqs Info

[samkerrworshipper]

Hi how have you been?💗 Would you maybe consider writing some angst for Alexia/Barcelona x reader where like maps and Ingrid start start to notice reader getting thinner and eating less but Alexia is so wrapped up in media and stuff that she doesn’t notice until reader faints at training. Then Mapi shouts at alexia and there’s some angst but it has a softer ending? ❤️

i remember everything.

alexia putellas x reader

warnings: eating disorders, pain n angst with a softer ending.

“Ale we’re losing her.”

Alexia hated a lot of things, winter, bad drivers, the colour orange, the Spanish federation, France, patchy makeup and cherry flavoured candy. The thing at the very top of her list though, was people telling her what to do. Alexia was the best player in the world, she was a force to be reckoned with, she did not need people telling her what to do with her life or relationships.

“Maria, she’s my fucking fiance, I would know if something was wrong with her, this is none of your business.”

Alexia was typing furiously at her phone, something that she seemed to always be doing lately. If you were lucky enough to catch her time for a few minutes, chances were her attention would end up being caught by replying to some email or text from her agent and manager. It was never ending, and anybody who had been a part of Alexia’s life before and after her had seen just how much her life had changed in the past two years. In this instance, Mapi and Alexia were out for drinks, trying to catch up but it was proving to be impossible with most of Alexia’s attention on whatever it was she was replying to this time.

“This is what I’m talking about, you don’t have enough time to talk face to face with your best friend, how does that prove to me that you have enough time to look out for your girlfriend?”

Alexia’s eyes rose from her phone, her fingers pausing.

“Maps, I know my fiance, I’d know if she had a eating disorder, I’d know if she was struggling, I lie in bed with her every night, I wake up with her every morning, I train with her everyday, I know her.”

Mapi’s eyebrow rose up at her forehead, it was weird for Alexia to meet her gaze, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“When was the last time she was sick? When was the last time she burnt something in your kitchen? When was the last time your dog ran away? You wouldn’t know because every time those things have happened in the last few months she’s called me, because you’ve been out of town. You're busy, we all understand it, not everybody can be La Reina, not everyone is you, but not everybody is your fiance. Her smile that normally lights up the room, it’s not there anymore, nothing about her is the same anymore, and I’ll be damned if she dies on your watch because you are being too insolent to acknowledge it.”

Mapi stood up from her seat at the bar, downing the rest of her dirty martini and giving Alexia a final parting frown.

“Go home to your fiance and actually look at her, eye to eye, lover to lover, and try and tell yourself that she is fine.”

Mapi exited the bar, disgruntled by her failed attempt at an intervention with Alexia, the slightly older woman simply didn’t want to listen to her and what was Mapi supposed to do about that? Alexia was stubborn and bullheaded, but she was like Mapi’s sister, she was Mapi’s blood, more than anybody else. Mapi had no idea where she’d be without Alexia, possibly dead in a ditch somewhere. Alexia had been the fristr person to haul her out of bed on a bad day, drag her out of clubs when she was so drunk she couldn’t see straight, Alexia was tough love, she forced Mapi to live until Mapi herself wanted to live. Mapi was more than grateful, but she also wasn’t going to let the love of Alexia’s life slowly kill herself because Alexia was too consumed with her own career to even realise.

The drive home for Alexia was slow and stressful in a way she’d never experienced. Alexia in her heart wanted to believe Mapi was wrong, because how could she be right? Alexia saw you everyday, she knew you better than anybody else, and she hadn’t noticed any of the things that Mapi had been talking about.

When Alexia does get home it’s to a silent house with no lights on, something thats fairly regular for her, considering the abnormal hours she normally egts home at. She leaves her keys and coat at the front door, reaches down to pet Nala who she must have woken up because the fluff ball has major bedhead. Alexia pours herself a glass of water from the tap before cautiously making her way into your bedroom. When she does finally make it to the door it’s hanging open, you sat on the bed, the lamp being the only source of lighting whilst you read from underneath it. You look so peaceful, so perfect, that Alexia considers leaving, sleeping on the couch. But she’s too angry, too consumed with her feelings, too emotional to take into account how much her actions affect you. She figures that in the last few months she’s probably drifted from you more than she's come close, which is probably concerning considering that the months leading up to a wedding you are supposed to be in premarital bliss.

“You didn’t have to wait up.”

Alexia’s voice is even, she moves into your shared wardrobe, pulling off her slacks and crop top and searching for a pair of her pyjamas.

“How was your day?”

You sound so hopeful, so curious. This is the only time of day msot weeks that you get to talk to Alexia and when it’s not too late you try your hardest to stay awake, hopeful tat maybe this time Alexia will return your eagerness.

“Fine.”

Alexia finally finds her pyjama shirt and shorts and changes into them quickly before moving back inot the bedroom.

“O-kay, how are you, how was Mapi?”

There’s so much hope in your voice, something that Alexia hates. She lets her eyes roam your body quickly, discreetly, not in a way that would make you think she was trying to start anything. She doesn’t see anything different. She doesn’t notice the fact that you no longer wear short sleeves or cropped shirts anymore. She doesn’t notice that your ribs now jut out from your skin, instead of being covered by a healthy amount of skin and fat, how could she? She doesn’t notice the patches across your scalp that are now missing hair, she doesn’t know that you no longer get your period, she doesn’t notice that your nails are now brittle and crusty, something that you’ve come to hate about yourself, just another dot point on the list of things that you detest about your body.

“Good.”

Alexia’s one word answer hurt your soul, more than Alexia ever had.

“If you don’t want to talk you can just say that.”

Alexia doesn’t slip under the covers like she’d planned to, instead her jaw clenches and hardens, a defence mechanism of hers that you’d never manage to crack.

“What are you talking about, we’re talking, I’m just tired.”

Your face falls at her snap, your eyes falling back to your book and marking your page before dropping it down on your bedside table, a little huff leaving your lips as your eyes drift upwards to meet Alexias.

“Alright, you must be absolutely exhausted every single time we talk then.”

It’s bold, especially considering that Alexia seems to be in a completely rotten mood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, because this is all she does and your becoming sick of it.

“Oh my god, I don’t come home every night just for you to make it seem like I’m a shitty girlfriend.”

It’s so Alexia, so Alexia to always somehow make herself the victim, somehow make it you who is the one in the wrong.

“Are you joking? You didn’t agree to come home to our house?”

Alexia moves herself further away from the bed, to the very edge, her eyes and jaw just as stubborn as each other.

“What do you want me to say? I’m tired, I want to sleep, not listen to you whine about whatever your fucking whining about, I’ve been in interviews all day and all I wanted to do was come home and sleep.”

Alexia was always in interviews, always doing something that was your fault, it wasn’t your responsibility to sort out her calendar, or to make her less of a good football player, it just happened to be the way the cookie crumbled.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I just had a really fucking bad qweek and I wanted to talk to you about it, because your supposed to be the fucking person I can talk to, but it’s fine, we can talk tomorrow, or next week, or next year, whenever your not tired.”

Alexia exhales, Mapi’s voice plays through her head, this is her in, this is her opportunity to not be such a fucking jackass.

“No, tell me about it.”

Anything you wanted to say, you swallow, it’s a hard job, but your suddenly so scared of Alexia, so scared that she’ll see you the same way you do, she’s never around to reassure you that you’re enough for her, and you honestly don’t feel like you are anymore.

“It’s fine, honestly sleep.”

You peel back the covers beside you, but Alexia stays still on the other end of the bed, just looking at you.

“You obviously want me to ask about it or you never would have brought it up.”

Alexia knows that it’s a dickhead move, but she’s at her wits end, she’s tired and your beginning to piss her off.

“Why do you make it seem like talking to me is a chore?”

Alexia has a schedule, and she figures sometimes talking with you is a chore, because Alexia doesn’t have time, some days talking to you is just another box for her to tick.

“How many times do I have to say that I’m fucking tired before you udnerstand?”

Alexia’s tone is so harsh, so angry, a tone she long ago promised herself she’d never use with you, ever. But right now every single rule she has for herself is being broken and when tears spring to the corners of your eyes she can’t help but feel guilty.

“If you’re so tired, go to sleep, I’ve told you that already, you’re starting an argument for no reason.”

Alexia cocks her head, trying to absorb what you’ve just said to her.

“Yeah, okay, whatever, I don’t want you fucking talking to me for the rest of the night though.”

Alexia never used to swear around you, or at you, but the part of her that was once so sweet and gentle with you is now gone, long forgotten under the facade that has become La Reina.

“Okay, I love you.”

It’s Alexia’s last chance, her last opportunity for redemption. You give her a few seconds, and when you get nothing in return your heart shatters.

“Please say it back Ale.”

Alexia’s face is emotionless, absolutely devoid of anything that made Alexia, Alexia. It reminds you as to why you are so scared to let people in, because of the damage they can do and the damage they can find. Alexia no longer seems concerned about any of those things, only concerned about herself.

“Alexia.”

She slips under the covers beside you, but her body and face is stock still, so stubborn, so hurt, so fucked up. It’s the final straw for you.

You pull the sheets away from your body, wrenching yourself up and out of the covers, tears streaming down your face as you rush into your wardrobe, pulling out whatever clothes are within arms reach and stuffing them into a bag.

When you emerge Alexia is looking equal parts concerned and shocked.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

In the moment, all you want is to be loved, feel loved, and it’s clear Alexia isn’t prepared to do any of those things.

“You need rest, I don't think either of us are going to get it whilst the other is in the house, I’m going to stay with Mapi for a few nights. When your ready to love me I’ll be there.”

With that you leave the bedroom, pick up your keys and drive into the darkness of the middle of the night, tears flowing freely down your face as the bleary night lights of Barcelona pass by.

It took every single bit of energy left in you to make it up the stairs of Mapi and Ingrid’s house, your knuckles pounding against their door until it swung open, to reveal Mapi and Ingrid, both looking like they’d just crawled out of bed and equally as shocked as each other.

It was then that you broke down, fat, big tears streaming down your face and sobs falling easily from your lips.

“I love her.”

There’s a silence so loud between the three of us as Mapi pulls you into a hug, Ingrid closing the door behind you and the two of them helping you into their house, pulling you into their bed and bringing you into a big hug. All you can do is focus on your breathing, in out, in out. Your hands tears at the broken skin and nails, you can’t manage to meet either of the womens eyes as you cry in their arms, they don’t seem to mind, they only tighten their grip on you.

“It’s okay hermosa, we’ve got you, we won't let go.”

You can’t do much more than cry, you're grieving your life, grieving your lover, grieving everything that you’d just lost in a matter of minutes. Your hearts torn to shreds, undecided about whether or not to let Alexia hold onto a breaking thread and risk the plummet. She’s given you absolutely nothing, no hope, no faith, no love and yet there she goes. She’s let you go. You're only feeling some of it, you know that there is going to be a day, not far away, where you're going to have to see her at training, laughing and smiling with your teammates, people who she’s loving through everything. You're losing her. You lost a version of her that was once so caring, who gave the warmest hugs. You’ve lost your 2 am conversations and your forever and always. You lost the person you’d promised you’d stay around till the very end with, if she hadn’t pushed you away, if she hadn't just loved you none of it would have happened. Alexia Putellas Segura was never yours to have though it seemed, she was for everyone else, the fans, the club, the country. Alexia Putellas was a thought, not a person.

There was a reason why you didn’t eat anymore, you’d become obsessed with trying to be perfect for Alexia, she hung out with models and super stars on the weekends, and yet you were just you. You were so unworthy of her love and attention that you couldn’t really blame her for falling out of love with you.

“She doesn’t love me, she never has.”

Maria hates it when those words leave your mouth, because it couldn’t be further from the truth, Alexia is just shit at showing you it. She knows that her bestfriend loves you more than anybody else in the world, that she would give up everything to be there for you, she just hasn’t noticed that you’ve needed that.

You sniffle into Ingrid’s chest, your fingers tapping against her thigh and your legs shaking from underneath you. You’ve never felt heartbroken before, Alexia has been your day one, and now it feels like you're just done, like everything the two of you have ever worked for together is just completely done.

“She loves you more than you know hermana, but she doesn’t deserve you if she’s going to continue to hurt you.”

Now that Mapi has you in her arms, she can feel just how much smaller you are, how much you’ve shrunken and how emaciated you are. She internally curses Alexia and her stubbornness, the world is so loud that Alexia Putellas has become deaf to your needs, to your happiness. Sometimes her best friend is one of the most impressive people she’s ever met and sometimes she’s just stupid, stupid for letting the love of her life feel so worthless and stupid for letting you walk out the door, something that could be the stupidest decision of her life.

You're positively exhausted, and it doesn’t take much of Ingrid’s back rubs and comforting Norwegian words that you don’t understand for you to be lulled into a painful sleep.

As soon as the two are certain your asleep the move you into the middle of the bed, Mapi looking over the top of you concernedly at Ingrid.

“She needs helps.”

Ingrid can’t find any part of her brain that disagrees with her other half.

“She needs Alexia to take her foot out of her ass and be present.”

Mapi nods her head, her eyes falling to your own face, even in your sleep you lok disturbed, your eyebrows knitted across your skin and a deep frown on your lips.

“Si, well if Alexia won’t then we have to, she needs to know she’s loved. She’s lost so much weight elksling, she hasn’t been eating or looking after herself.”

Ingrid nods, equally worried as her girlfriend about the health of their bestfriend.

“Get some sleep, we’ll figure it out in the morning.

When the two women wake to find you missing from their bed, it takes a search of their apartment to find you deep asleep in their spare room, neither of them question it. They make you breakfast, you don’t eat it, insisting that you're feeling nauseous. When they try to talk about Alexia you shut them down, you’ve created a mental fortress, one that Alexia and your health and emotions aren’t apart of. They invite you to stay with them for the foreseeable future, and you can’t find any reason to say no.

The following days leading up to the first pre-season training are all the same, you hardly sleep every night, sitting up late out on their porch and waking up at the crack of dawn. Mapi knows that your health is teetering dangerously, you hardly eat, you only leave the house to workout, you are a skeleton of a human being. Mapi doesn’t know what to do, you don’t care about anything anymore, or maybe you care so much that it’s all being numbed out.

It’s the first training session when everything turns to shit. She’d found you balling your eyes out in a change room cubicle beforehand, as soon as you’d spotted Mapi you’d pulled yourself together, terrified of being vulnerable in front of her. It only got worse though when you stepped out of the tunnel and onto the field, to be faced with Alexia, standing casually on the field, chatting with a few of your teammates. Your heart plummeted at the sight of her, the woman that you’d made so tired, so unhappy, laughing and messing about with your teammates. You pushed Mapi away when she tried to comfort you, walking straight to the sideline of the pitch to start your warm up. You made it through half of it, your body hurt though, in a way that it never had before. You only made it through one of your sprints before you were face planting into the turf, your whole body completely done. Your bones sunk into the grass, your body just giving up.

It was Mapi who made it to you first, flipping you over, her eyes searching your unconscious face. She knew this was going to happen, knew it was only so long before your body stopped letting you overwork it.

“Alexia.”

Mapi screamed at the top of her lungs, desperate to draw anyone's attention, specifically your fiance, or ex fiance. Everyone turned to face the two of you, Mapi knelt down on the turf, rocking your body back and forth as she tried her very hardest to awaken you, a task that was proving to be unsuccessful. The whole team rushed forward, Alexia at the front of the pack, collapsing beside Mapi on the ruf, taking your head in her hands and shaking it furiously.

“Someone get a medic, y/n, come on, wake up for me, get up.”

There was more emotion in Alexia’s voice than Mapi had heard in months. Mapi hated that it took you passing out for Alexia to care, and suddenly her protective older sister instinct kicked in, pushing Alexia away from you, taking her hands and distaching them from your unconscious body.

“Get the fuck away from her? She has to be unconscious for you to give a fuck? This is your fault, you let it get this bad, if you actually loved her you would have realised ages ago, but you don’t do you? You don’t love her like she deserves, you only love her when it’s convenient for you?”

The words bring tears to Alexia’s eyes, Mapi’s words awaken something in her, a realisation that she’s right, Alexia has given a blind eye to you and now you were seriously hurt because of it. She scrambled away from your body, suddenly overly aware of just how much she’d hurt you. She pushed herself out from the group, running away from all of them, running away from you, running away from her problems, running away from her life that she’d fucked up so badly.

One of the girls had called 112, clawing Mapi away from your unresponsive body as the medics tended to you, plastering a oxygen mask on your face that was far too big, sitting wrongly on your bony face. They loaded you up onto a stretcher, your cold body attached to more cords than you had extremities.

Mapi managed to fit herself into the ambulance with you, clutching your hand the whole drive to the hospital, praying to herself to let you be okay, to let everything work itself out.

When you woke up it was painful. Your eyes blinked furiously as they tried to focus on anything besides the infuriating white light that was clouding your vision. It took a few seconds for your senses to kick in, but once they did it only hurt more. The sound of constant beeping, movement and noise pollution crowding you ears. It was then that you spotted Mapi and Ingrid at your bedside, your eyes darting furiously between the two as the blood rushed to your ears to protect you from the overstimulating noise that was crowding your brain.

Mapi stood up, her hand intertwining with yours. She was trying to speak to you, but you couldn’t hear anything, your ears making you practically deaf. Mapi held your hand and it seemed to be enough, enough to tell you that everything was okay, or as okay as it could be. Slowly your anxiety slipped out from under you, and your hearing came back, allowing you to focus on what Mapi was saying to you.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s all okay, your okay, take some deep breaths for me.”

Your eyes darted to the IV’s and cords that were connected to you, the feeding tube that went through your nose and down your throat, the oxygen cannula that also rested on your nose, the countless IV’s that were connected to your arm, making it far harder to move your arm at all.

“What happened?”

Your words were choken, your throat dry from lack of liquids. Mapi solved this problem, reaching to your bedside and lifting a glass of water to your lips, you took tentative sips, the water soothing your dry throat.

“You passed at training, malnutrition and dehydration. The doctors think that you’ve been struggling with anorexia for a little while, that you haven’t been eating properly.”

Suddenly everything stopped for you, the words leaving Maria’s mouth making you gulp on nothingness. It felt like you were being choked, big imaginary hands wrapping around your throat, preventing you from saying anything in your defence. It felt like your organs were all eating each other up in your stomach, a uneven discomfort spreading across your torso.

“Nobody is judging you, you’ve been through a really tough time, what matters most now is getting you back to being healthy and happy. Barca is in full support of what you want to do, you have lots of options, inpatient, out patient, moving in with Ingrid and I fully.”

You didn’t want any of those things, you wanted Alexia and it hurt for you to admit that.

“I want Ale.”

Maria frowned at your words, she was still furious with Alexia.

“I don’t think that's a good idea, you deserve better then her hermosa.”

It hurt you to hear Mapi regard Alexia so lowly, when a few weeks ago Alexia had been her best friend in the entire world.

“I want to see Alexia, I know she’s here, let me see her.”

Ingrid stood up, walking out the door of your room and out into the waiting room, retrieving a particularly heart broken blonde from the room and dragging her into your room.

The way your face lit up when you saw Alexia made Mapi feel sick, she wasn’t going to let Alexia hurt you again like she had.

Alexia’s cheeks were tearstained, her eyes distant as they met yours. It hurt her in ways she could never explain, seeing you looking so lifeless in a hospital bed, you were conscious, but all life had been drained from your body, you truly looked like a skeleton.

“Mapi, give me and Alexia a minute will you?”

Mapi looked like she was about to argue, but Ingrid’s hand on her wrist, tugging her out of the room was enough of a distraction, the Norwegian woman closing the door behind the two of them.

“I’m so sorry, I was such a bad girlfriend-.”

You stopped Alexia grovelling by lifting your hand.

“You fucked up, you hurt me more than I’ve ever been hurt before. It fucking sucked Alexia, never seeing you and when I did see you, you were always on the phone or tired or not in the mood. I understand that you are very busy, and that you can’t control your schedule, I’m not having a go at you for that, you are allowed to be tired. I’m pissed off because I was struggling, really fucking struggling and all you gave a shit about was yourself, you don’t understand how stressful it is to explain what’s going on in your head when you don’t even understand it yourself. You are supposed to be my person, the person I can ask and tell anything and you didn’t want to be that and I detested you for that. I can’t do it anymore, I can’t spend everyday hating you, because this is what it does to me. I can’t live without you, but I also can’t live beside a version of you that doesn’t love me like I deserve. I want to try us, I want to try again, because if I stand even a chance at keeping myself alive and being happy whilst doing it, it’s going to be in your arms, but I need you to understand that, I need you to understand that you need to be here for me, regardless of what’s going on in your life. You know I’m proud of you, I’m your biggest supporter, so right now I need you to be that for me.”

Alexia nodded like a goldfish at you, more tears flowing freely down her face.

“How bad is it?”

You bit down on your lip, everything that made Alexia, La Reina was gone, all of her barrier broken down, so that the only person standing in front of you was your Ale, the Ale you loved so very much.

“It’s not good, I haven’t been looking after myself in a long while, Anorexia they say. They want me to go into outpatient or inpatient, or move in with Mapi. I don’t want to do any of those things, I just want to be with you, happy with you, with you there to look out for me, I just need you to commit to that for me.”

Alexia nodded quickly, her head shaking furiously as her blonde hair swished back and forth beside her head.

“Please, if you’ll have me. I’ll take time off, whatever you need, I’m here for it all, I’ll spend everyday for the rest of our lives making it up to you, I promise, please just let me love you.”

You patted down on the space beside you on the bed and Alexia hesitantly sat down on the space, hovering on the bed, making sure she wasn’t touching you, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You were starved though, starved of everything that you’d been missing the last few weeks, you reached out for her, pulling her to sit beside you on the bed, your head coming to rest against her stiff form. It took a few seconds to get her to relax, but when she did she lifted her hands up to your thin hair, carding her fingers gentle through it, trying her hardest not to notice the amount of hair that was falling out as a result of your health problems.

“I love you Ale.”

Alexia was so focused on you, that she didn’t even really hear the words.

“Ale, say it back.”

Your stern tone seemed to awaken her, she pointed her head down to yours, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and murmuring,

“I love you mi amor, more than you will ever know,”

It calmed your soul, a part of your heart that you didn’t know existed finally resting, enough to let you slowly drift off on Alexia’s chest, allowing you to sleep better than you had in months. Alexia found herself following you, the sight of you finally relaxed making her so much more content.

That was how Mapi and Ingrid found the two of you, sound asleep on your hospital bed. Mapi was a little bit annoyed at how easily you’d forgiven Alexia, but she couldn’t find it to be mad at the Catalan for very long, approving of how happy you looked at rest in her arms.

[melancholyshadow]

Undressed

pairing: simon riley x afab!reader

word count: 1.2k

content warning: creeper!ghost, she/her pronouns, reader gets undressed while simon is in the room and she doesn't know he's there, mention of male masturbation, body descriptions, no actual smut but MDNI.

an: more cod stuff, whose surprised? i saw a tik tok, and i came up with this. so i hope you enjoy. let me know if i should write some more stuff, even send me some ideas! not proofread!

Weirdly enough, Ghost enjoyed safehouses. 

Maybe it was the quietness that fell over the house when everyone was way too tired to be loud.

Or the secludedness of the house, away from all the political bullshit. 

Even if most of them were in shitty condition. 

Or the size of a one bedroom flat. 

Which both of those statements could be said about the one the five of you were currently in now. It was dark and dingy, none of the overhead lighting worked, so everyone was guided only by the few table lamps scattered across the house. Most of them being used by Gaz and Price who were using them to light their maps, trying to figure out the best way to get to their next location. But Simon had stolen one to read, cooped up in the only bedroom in the entire house. 

It was an old novel, one he found on the dusty bookshelves out in the living room. Even for its age, it was quite interesting. Almost interesting enough for him to miss the commotion coming from the small kitchenette that was located right outside the closed door. It sounded like a loud frustrated groan, and the shattering of glass. 

That’s when the bedroom door flung open, and you walked inside. Ghost only briefly looked up from the book resting in his large hands. You were mumbling something under your breath, and that’s when he noticed a large red stain on the white-beater you were wearing, and even on your jeans. “God, fucking damn it.” You muttered, picking up your rucksack from its place on the ground, and throwing it on the bed which was accompanied by a large creaking noise under its weight.

You began rummaging around in your pack, pulling out what looked like another tank top and a pair of issued-thermals. He was almost positive you hadn’t noticed him sitting in the corner, because you began unbuckling your belt, more mumbled curse words flying out of your mouth, and something to do with Soap, who he assumed was the cause of your frustrations. Once your belt was undone, you began fiddling with the empty thigh holster you still wore. 

Your small fingers fumbled with the small multiple small buckles, shaking with anger. Ghost looked back down at his book, figuring you were about to change into a new set of clothes that weren’t so saturated with whatever that red substance was. His eyes started on the first sentence on the new page he had flipped to right before you barged into the room. But his brain couldn’t concentrate on the tiny-printed words, reading the same sentence three times. 

When he glanced back up at you over the top of the book, you had finished fumbling with the holster buckles, and it was discarded on the floor. Now ripping your belt from the belt loops of your pants, discarding it in the same place. You had the same issue with the button and zipper of your pants, unsteady hands trying to fiddle with something so small. He glanced back down to try reading again, trying to give you the privacy you deserved. He could just stand up and walk out, but he could have startled you, or made you even more mad for not announcing his presence in the first place. 

So, he sat as still as possible, trying to just keep his eyes off you. But that didn’t last for very long, after trying to comprehend the same sentence for the fourth time, his eyes glided back to you, almost unintentionally. You were now shimmying out of your jeans, struggling as they clung to you in their wet state. “Fuck you, Soap.” More muttering under your breath. Ghost’s eyes trailed over the newly exposed skin of your legs, noticing your calves, defined from the years of training. Your thighs, also toned, but more malleable, a slight jiggle when you move. He imagined himself leaving bruises on the insides of them, bite marks even.

He admired the white cotton panties that covered the apex between your thighs, and hugged the fullness of your ass. He couldn’t help but notice the small bow that decorated the front of them. Definitely not in regulation, but he couldn’t care less at this moment. His mind was running wild with thoughts of you. He would be lying if he hadn’t thought about you in this exact situation. Except usually, it was him undressing you instead. 

Ghost had been attracted to you since the moment he laid eyes on you, almost three years ago. But he was not the type to act on it, or even hint at it, unlike Soap and Gaz. It was no secret that most of the team, excluding Price, who had taken on almost a fatherly role to you. The remaining three had some sort of interest in you. It seemed only natural when you were the only female in an all male group, but everyone was respectful about the situation. Gaz and Soap would joke about certain topics with you, but at the end of the day they would take a bullet for you without any question. Ghost would too, obviously. 

Ghost shook his head almost cartoonishly, trying to free his mind of the thoughts plaguing him. He shouldn’t think about you this way, you were his comrade, and these thoughts were too distracting to have while on a mission. At least, he thought that until you pulled the soaked tank-top over your head, exposing your bra-clad chest. The bra was nude, perfectly matching your skin tone. It was also stained red, so in one quick motion, reaching behind your back, you let the bra fall to the floor along with your other clothing. 

Ghost only had a side-view of you, but your breasts were perfectly sculpted for your chest, everything he had dreamed of while cumming into his fist after a long day of pretending you had no effect on him. Ghost had completely forgotten the book in his hands, the cover falling closed. He was completely gawking at you, no shame, well, maybe a little. But that was the last thing he was thinking about at that moment. He was disappointed, as he watched you latch another bra around your chest, covering your breast once again. 

Next was a white tank top, similar to the one you had on earlier. His eyes wandered down to your ass, taking it in for the last couple moments. Who knew when, or if, he would ever see it again. You struggled with the thermals, swaying your hips back and forth, trying to get the tight-fitting garment up your legs. They fit you snug, not leaving much to the imagination, the other men would surely get a kick out of them, but Ghost was the lucky bastard who got to see you without any of it on. With one last huff and shimmy, you turned and walked back towards the door, ripping it open again. 

“Soap, I’m still gonna kill your stupid ass!” You exclaimed, slamming the door shut in one smooth motion before disappearing back into the kitchenette. Leaving Simon there, the book still shut and completely breathless. And not to mention a raging hard on.

[panda-writes-kpop]

two's company, but three's a crowd?

a/n: happy birthday to my lovely friend across the pond @foolish-sparrow!!! hope you have the loveliest day ever because you deserve your love. also, happy pride month everyone! I have a special fic that's been rotting in my brain that I want to release for pride month, but I also want to work on requests this month, so we'll just have to see what happens :)

tw: 'madre' is used once because it's my nickname for Sparrow but the fic is gender-neutral otherwise, Paladin! Reader that reads like a self-insert character, reader gets wasted as do the love interests, hangover symptoms including nausea, this author hates love triangles so your love interests are love interests and we all live happily ever after in a poly relationship <3

related fics: gimme all your lovin' (all your hugs and kisses too!), look at me! look at me!, sorry for party rockin'!, we're never getting back together (like ever?)

summary: You wake up in a random hotel room with no idea where Yunjin or Kazuha are. Last night's memories are blurry, but with the help of those two girls, you manage to put the pieces back together of what exactly happened at that party.

♡ Masterlist ♡

On a scale from “crystal-clear” to “holy fuck how much did I drink”, you’d rate your memory of last night as a slightly blurry highlight reel of the best parts.

This, of course, couldn’t explain why you woke up in a strange hotel room with little to your name beside your phone and the clothes on your body.

Your phone. You should check that, maybe someone’s searching for you?

Not a single phone call. Were your friends not even slightly concerned about you?

A single text pops up on your phone.

Katie: Text me when you’re headed home! I’ll save some breakfast for you. <3

Well, at least the youngest Paladin cares for you. Considering that she’s sweet to anything that breathes, maybe you shouldn’t take it as too much of a compliment.

Your phone pings again.

Katie: Love you lots, mi madre! Hope you had fun with Yunjin and Kazuha last night after you left the party.

You certainly weren’t in the apartment that Yunjin and Kazuha shared with three other girls, and hell, you weren’t sure if you were in the same city that you started the night in.

Your phone has a mapping system of sorts, right? Maybe you can turn on the WiFi and get a signal to your phone.

You’re thoroughly disappointed, albeit not surprised at this point, that this hotel doesn’t have WiFi or any signal for your phone. It’s almost as if the world doesn’t want you to figure out where you’re going… 

The only tool you have is your memory at this point. It can’t hurt to go over everything, right?

~

“Yunjin, we have a guest!” Kazuha loudly announces as you knock on the door. “Can you get it? I’m busy putting on make-up.”

“Why do I always have to get the door?” Yunjin whines before opening the door. “Hey, you came over! Glad to see you here.”

Yunjin lets you in before closing the door. 

“None of the other girls are in right now. Sakura and Chaewon are having a girl’s night, and Eunchae mentioned something about a study date.” Yunjin laughs to herself. “Kids, they grow up so fast.”

“Tell me about it,” You laugh along with Yunjin, “Katie’s the one organizing the party. Luckily, since Ryujin invited everyone and their mother, I slipped an invitation in for you and Kazuha.”

“Katie won’t be mad?” 

“Not at all, since the party is a cover to get a few of her friends together with their crushes.” You roll your eyes at Katie’s schemes, which will unfortunately work because it’s Katie.

“Sounds like Katie, alright.” Yunjin lightly grabs your arm before leading you to the kitchen. “C’mon, I made some drinks for us.”

“Already? We’re not even at the party yet-” You try to protest, but Kazuha gasps when she spots the three red solo cups.

“I’m down for a couple drinks if you are.” Kazuha enters the room and slides to your left as Yunjin expectantly stares at you.

So much for your whole lecture towards Katie about avoiding peer pressure when it came to alcohol and other substances.

“As long as we get an Uber to the party, we can have a couple of drinks.” You say as the two girls happily cheer.

~

You didn’t get too drunk at their apartment, but you definitely weren’t comfortable driving. After calling a ride, nothing of note happened - except for the fact that you were squished between Yunjin and Kazuha in the backseat of the car. You were trying to hide your nervousness from the both of them, but neither of them could resist the urge to tease you a bit.

“Do we both make you nervous, or is it just one of us?” Yunjin smiles before scooting closer to you. “Come on, you can tell me~”

“Yunjin, knock it off, you’re making them nervous!” Kazuha reaches over and lightly slaps Yunjin.

Yunjin rubs her arm in pain as Kazuha’s hand returns to her, but not before lightly grazing your knee. 

When you look at Kazuha, she winks at you before softly laughing. 

You’re sure that your nerves are more apart than ever - maybe spontaneous combustion wasn’t such a bad fate, after all?

Speaking of, Kazuha enters the hotel room, causing you to sigh in relief.

“Kazuha, you have no idea how happy I am to see you-”

“-Where are we?” Kazuha looks at you in confusion. “I thought you’d know, but apparently you don’t.”

“What gave it away? The fact that I reek of booze?” You joke as she walks over and peeks out of the other side of the room. “Have you seen Yunjin?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.” Kazuha slides into the single office chair in the middle of the room as you lay on the single king bed in the room. “What happened last night?”

“I’ve got bits and pieces from last night - maybe we can compare and see what we remember?”

~

Getting to the party was eventful, but the party itself was nothing to scoff at. You had arrived a bit late, something that Katie would normally scold you for, but the party seemed to be roaring out of control. 

To your left was the kitchen, where you see a nervous Katie running around with dishes and ingredients in her hands. Dami dutifully stands to the side, occasionally holding a dish and stirring something, while watching Katie work her magic. 

You can hear King and Neon talking with a group of friends in the living room - perhaps it was time for a Boomer reunion? Yet again, you’d probably start an argument with one of the boomers, which would probably put Katie more on edge than before. 

You couldn’t chat with Mala, who was currently studying at home with Tzuyu. Katie had invited them over, but you weren’t sure that they would make an appearance tonight.

“Hey, I’m going to grab something to eat. Are you guys hungry?” Yunjin asks as the three of you head towards the kitchen.

“I could eat.” You shrug as Kazuha nods. 

“Hey, Katie-” You call out as Katie rushes past you.

“Everything you can eat is on the kitchen island. Grab a plate and feel free to eat.” Katie says before mumbling to herself, “Chili powder, lemon juice, tomatoes, avocados-”

“Is she going to be okay?” Kazuha asks as Dami hands the three of you plates, silverware, and glasses. 

“I think so, but this may be her breaking point.” Dami looks over to the counter that is stacked with half-full and empty liquor bottles. “I still haven’t told her that Ryujin and her friends have finished off most of the bottled and canned drinks.”

“Have Neon and Siyeon find the drinks. I’m too stressed to do any sort of matchmaking, so that’ll work for now.” Katie rushes back towards the sink to grab a spoon. “Oh, and I’m not ignoring you three, I promise. I’m just a little bit out of it, and I hope you can understand why.”

“At least she’s honest about it.” Yunjin mutters as Kazuha rolls her eyes.

“Be nice to the girl, she’s obviously trying her best. Thank you for the food, Katie, I appreciate your efforts.” Kazuha compliments Katie, who instantly lights up.

“Really? Thank you!” She quickly side-hugs Kazuha before continuing to organize the kitchen and mix dishes together.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles before looking over to you and Yunjin, who look ready to devour her if she doesn’t move out of the way. “We should grab some food and get to the party.”

~

“Katie’s really something, huh?” Kazuha laughs to herself for a moment. “She’s a sweetheart - no wonder everyone gets along with her.”

“Yeah, she’s something, alright.” You smile softly. “But after that, we sat down and had food until Neon and Siyeon came back with drinks.”

“I’m surprised you remember that. You and King got into a bit of a drinking competition, and well… both of you were losers in the end.” Kazuha explains.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“You couldn’t answer a basic multiplication question.”

“Okay, maybe I was that drunk. What happened next? My memory’s kind of blurry-”

“We played a few party games, in which you got mad at King and then chased him outside. He fell into SuA’s flower garden, and you claimed your victory over him. Then there was the whole Spin the Bottle incident-”

“Spin the Bottle incident?” You tilt your head at Kazuha.

“-I think Mala’s the person to talk to about that.” Kazuha scoots her chair closer to you. “Your friends all had a pretty good night when it came to romance.”

You groan as a wave of nausea hits you - damn hangovers and their horrible timing!

“What about me?” You ask out of plain curiosity. 

“What about you…” Kazuha trails off with a playful look on her face.

~

You were chased outside by Katie… well, some of you were. Others were too drunk to function, so rides had to be arranged, and some were growing tired as the moon continued to rise into the sky. 

Yunjin and Kazuha were still there… among others, but none were as notable as them. 

In the moonlight, Kazuha’s skin glistened as someone set up a speaker in the backyard. Like a moon to its planet, you’re pulled into her orbit as you dance together to a song you can’t quite name. Your bodies flow together as if the cosmos deemed for you two to be together.

And, of course, nothing ends a perfect first dance like a perfect first kiss. Your lips move against hers in perfect harmony as you stop swaying to the music. 

You part from her, with both you and her shyly looking away from each other, when Yunjin pulls you close to her.

“You two can’t have all of the fun~” She teases before lightly kissing your cheek. 

You don’t have time to process what happened with Kazuha when Yunjin dances with you to a much faster-paced song. You find time to tease each other, to carefully expose your feelings without being too over-the-top. It’s a delicate dance, a high-intensity card game where you both wait to play your aces.

You play yours first - pulling her flush to you as the song comes to a close.

She plays her ace after yours - her hands pull your face close to hers, and her lips devour yours with a hunger that you’ve never known before.

Another partygoer has to pull the two of you away from each other, wanting you to “not cause a scene”. As if you haven’t done enough of that tonight.

You’re stuck between two worlds, a fork in the road that leads to two different good endings.

What do you do now?

~

“Then Yunjin and I ended up kissing, and we tried to call a ride back to the apartment. I don’t think the driver knew where we were going, since we ended up here.” Kazuha shows you a flier that she found on the desk - the hotel has a similar name to their apartment building, so the mix-up suddenly makes a lot more sense.

“I think we all drank too much,” You groan as you lay down on the bed. “But I don’t regret kissing you or Yunjin, not one bit.”

“So you remembered?” A hopeful glint appears in Kazuha’s eyes.

“I told you that I remembered bits and pieces, but as you were telling me what happened, it all started to click and my memories… sorted themselves out, I guess.” You place a hand over your eyes to prevent any sunlight or artificial light from entering your eyes. “Still doesn’t explain where Yunjin is though.”

The hotel door room is slammed open as someone stumbles into the room.

“Yunjin!” Kazuha explains as you carefully sit up and remove your hand from your eyes.

Yunjin’s hair is an absolute mess, sticking up in all sorts of directions and curling in places that it didn’t curl before.

“My head is killing me.” She grumbles before face planting on the bed. “The breakfast here sucks, by the way. Why don’t we go back home?”

“Do you remember much from last night?” You look over at Yunjin, who lifts her head and smirks at you.

“Which part - the party, the kissing, or the hotel room shenanigans?” 

Your eyes widen as you look over at Kazuha - she’s just as flabbergasted as you.

“I’ll tell you all when we’re not hungover, preferably over coffee.” She says before laying her head back on the bed.

“It sounds like you’re asking us on a date, Yunjin.” You tease as Yunjin sighs.

“I wanna sleep, can we talk about this later?”

“We’ll talk later. Goodnight, Yunjin-” Kazuha says before she hears soft snoring from the other bed. “That was fast.”

“Do you want to rest, or would you rather clean up and get ready?” You ask.

“I could use a nap. Once I was semi-sober, I was looking up and down the hotel for Yunjin. I wonder where she went…” Kazuha shrugs as you slide off of the bed. “You aren’t tired?”

“I have to let the other Paladins know where I’m at.” You check the clock - 8:35 a.m.

Neon and King are probably still hungover, so Katie and Mala are the only people you should call right now. You don’t really want anyone to call you since you’re hungover, so you’ll offer the other boomers that basic respect.

“Kazuha, is it okay if I-” You pause as you watch Kazuha’s chest rise and fall - she’s dead asleep, too.

You look over to Yunjin, then back to Kazuha, and then to your phone.

You’d figure everything out, over coffee and other hangover cures. And you had one hell of a story to tell the other Paladins when you got home.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.7 K Warnings: None. Prompt: It's a night to talk This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 27: Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Remus didn’t need to see your flushed cheeks nor did he need to hear your now slightly hoarse voice to realise what had happened behind the curtains. No, he would’ve noticed the moment you dipped back inside the cloak, you smelled divine, it was that combination of scents he just couldn’t get out of his head. 

Unfortunately, he had realised earlier, not because he was trying to pry, but because he had a really keen sense of hearing, sometimes the perks of being a monster weren’t all that convenient. He had leaned into the wall as he heard Sirius kiss you. He had seen him do it so many times, he thought he should already be immune to it. But fuck did he wish he was you at that moment. Which made him feel like shit, yet again. 

And then you came out, looking a little dizzy, trying to hide your stupid lovesick smile and he almost broke, how ever could he wish to take your place, when you looked so pretty like that? Sirius was lucky, you were lucky, and he was fucking miserable. 

And then you turned to him, a mischievous smile on your face as you placed every single ounce of your attention on him and he almost forgot why he was feeling so luckless. “I believe you have a certain thing to show me…” 

Remus, who was still a little fazed from all the emotions he had gone through in such a short period of time, had absolutely no idea what you were talking about “I do?” he asked. 

You arched your eyebrows, tilting your head down just a little, Remus swallowed, how was it possible he had been so close to having a heart attack from Sirius earlier and now that he was looking at you, staring at him like that, he felt completely and utterly enamoured by you instead? He must have had some serious issues if his mind could switch just like that in a matter of minutes.  

At the lack of response, you leaned towards him just a little, the same smile still playing on your lips, and you whispered “Something about a certain map I could finally see?” 

Remus seemed to finally know what you were talking about “Ah, the map!” he said with a smile and pulled a piece of parchment, the same one he had tucked in while Sirius pulled you between them that night. He handed it to you, a rather satisfied smile as you looked at it, moving it around and unbending the pieces of parchment glued on top of each other to try and find the map, but it was empty. 

You heard the boy chuckle and you narrowed your eyes at him, pulling your wand and placing it on top of the parchment “Revelio,” you whispered. Nothing happened. The boy chuckled again. You looked at him, mouth shut tight as he stared at you, clearly diverted. “Did you just hand me a blank piece of parchment to wind me up?” 

He shook his head, his lips pressed tightly as he tried to suppress a smile. He took a step towards you, closing the already short distance the cloak allowed the two of you to keep, and he leaned down a little, “Wand on the parchment,” he said. You gave him another look but followed his instructions, “bit more in the centre,” he said as he grabbed your hand to place it where it should be. 

You looked up at him, he was too focused on getting your hand in the right place to notice you were staring. He looked so pretty in the low light of the castle at night, his skin looking a little more golden and softer, the gilded specks in his eyes shining a bit more than normal. Britain really had gotten its hands on all the handsome bachelors of the century, there weren’t boys this pretty in your older school. You wondered if Alice knew how freaking lucky she was. 

Remus leaned in just a little bit more, close enough for his mouth to brush on your ear as he whispered something, the whole thing sent a shiver down your spine, you were not expecting his slightly rough voice to sip into your brain like it did. 

You gulped and nodded, he pulled back, and then you smiled, whispering “I solemnly swear, I’m up to no good.” Ink started appearing on the map, from the centre of your wand to all around it, you marvelled at the intricate details and letters drawn over the map. 

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP”

You looked at the drawing of the Whomping Willow and awed at the details of text written on every branch, aside from being a map, it was a piece of art, worthy of display. You looked up at him, the astonishment evident in your eyes, he smiled proudly, he knew for a fact you’d be fascinated by it, and you hadn’t even seen the entire thing. “Open it,” he prompted. 

You did as told, inside it was a detailed map of Hogwarts, from passageways to names of classrooms, to a way more elaborate version of the map Remus had drawn you a while back so you could feed your fireworms. You instantly recognized it and brushed your fingers over it, giving him a questioning look. He nodded, “There’s many more of them, the map has all the ones we’ve discovered.” 

Then you noticed, the small star was moving in one of the passageways, there was a deer and a rat in the common room and there was a moon right where you stood. You took out the moon charm Remus had given you earlier, it had exactly the same shape. You smiled “You’ve tagged each other, that’s how you found me!” 

He nodded, “Peter’s working on making one of you,” he said with a smile, “he’s using the charm of the necklace Sirius’ swiped from you a couple days ago.” 

“But… that’s silver,” you added alarmed, “I thought he was taking it away because he knew it’d hurt you, like he did with the ring that day. I was going to get rid of it.”

Remus smiled, “He’s transfiguring it into aluminium, it’s too pretty for you to throw it away just because it hurts me.”

“Nothing will ever be ‘too pretty’ not to throw away if it hurts you, Remus.” 

He cleared his throat after that, really trying to ignore the butterflies your words had made him feel. You thought of him as a friend, you were such a freaking incredible friend, why did he have to go and fall for you. 

“The makeout room Richie showed me should be somewhere over here,” you said pointing at a section of the map. 

Remus almost choked “The what?!”

“Oh… right, that’s what Richie used to use it for, and for keeping his illegal books I guess,” you said casually as you tried to figure out the details of the map, “What’s that?” you asked when you noticed there was a moving symbol with an “AF” written on top. It was walking a couple of passages away from you. There were other symbols with letters like that in different sections. 

“That’s Filch,” he said as he grabbed your arm and started pulling you towards the other side. 

“You tagged Filch?!” you asked surprised. 

“We started playing with a small little trinket until he confiscated it. We knew he’d keep it around, and now we know where he is all the time.”

You looked at him with a mix of admiration and shock, you already knew your friends were clever, only clever people could plan something like what you were about to do, but they weren’t just clever, they were also resourceful, imaginative, strategic and analytical. They were freaking geniuses. 

You followed behind him, both walking towards the dungeons and to the potions’ classroom. Once you arrived he pulled his wand out, but you shook your head, pulling out a copy of the keys. 

“How did you?” he asked as he saw you slide it in and heard the pins adjust into place. He was staring at you in awe. 

“He gave it to Lily to get some things earlier in the morning,” you explained “I got Alex Wood to teach me how to use Gemino a couple of weeks ago, and used it to make our very own copy.” 

He was sure he couldn’t be more in love with you than he was, until you said that. “Our”, the word lingered on his brain, he’d have to tell Sirius how goddamned sneaky his girlfriend was, he was sure to get a kick out of it. 

The two of you walked together, he waved his wand over the door of the ingredients room “No alarm spells,” he told you. You smiled and used the key to open it, there were rows and rows of ingredients in the small potion room. You had already gotten most of them, but you still needed some key things for the potion. 

Remus handed the book over to you and you went straight to the page with the ingredient list and marked what you already had in hand, and the two of you started to work together seamlessly, you’d say the name of the ingredient and he’d pull it from the shelf and put it on his bag. 

“Is that the last one?” he whispered as he saw you mark the paper with a pencil. 

You nodded, but then shook your head “No wait!” you said “Spider venom essence, grab some spider venom essence.” He turned to you,  an eyebrow arched: that wasn’t on the book, he knew. “Richie recommended it, he also said he might have some other useful ingredients on the hideout.”

Remus nodded at your explanation and leaned down to take the spider venom essence from the bottom shelf, along with  another small bottle and placed them on his shoulder bag “Now we’ve got everything.” 

You looked through the list and went over everything you had already gotten. “Indeed we do,” you said after a couple of seconds of concentration. He smiled at how cute you looked, from the angle where he was crouching in. 

“Let’s go to your makeout room then,” he said as he finally stood up. 

“We really need to find a better name for it,” you said as you rolled your eyes. You left the small ingredient closet and Remus placed the cloak around the two of you again. He took the book from your hands and placed it on the bag as you took the map again “Looks like the way’s empty, we just have to be a bit more careful with the prefects, in case any of them is patrolling somewhere.” You said as the two of you started to walk away. Both stopped for you to close the door, and once it was done you handed him the keys, “here,” you said as you placed them over his hands.

He looked at you puzzled “Why?” 

“You’ll come with the boys more often than me,” you said simply “And you’re way more responsible than any of them, if anyone should have the keys, it should be dear Moony.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile at the way you used his nickname, he found he liked you calling him Moony almost as much as he liked it when you said Rem. But he liked Rem better because that one had been entirely yours.  

The two of you walked towards the make-out room side by side, at some point Remus had placed his hand near the back of your neck and he pretty much guided you through the halls as you stared at the map, making sure you weren’t getting close to Filch or any of the other prefects that had already been tagged by the boys.

“Have you considered doing something to tag absolutely every single person in the castle?” You asked as you walked through a particularly quiet hallway. 

He smiled, great minds think alike, he thought. “We’ve been trying to figure out how to do it for a while.” He told you “We can’t exactly give a charm to every single student.” 

“You need to charm the school instead,” you said as you pulled your head from the map and leaned over to check on the passage you’d go through afterwards “I’m not saying it will be easy but there must be a way to tap into Hogwarts’ magic,” you said then “That or you charm the Hogwarts Express, since everyone goes through the Hogwarts Express at least once.” 

Remus turned to you with his eyes wide open “That’s actually brilliant!” 

You turned to him with a small proud smile “Thank you,” and shot him a small wink. By then, the two of you were already reaching the small statue. “All right, at the count of three, you placed your hand on the frog and rub, deal?” you asked, looking at him with a smile. 

He looked at you incredulously “you want me to rub the frog?“

You nodded “I know, It’s weird, I thought that too, but trust me,” you said with a smile, and how could he not?  He placed his hand on the frog “I’m gonna place my hand on top,” you warned before gently sitting your hand over his, he almost melted right then and there. “Go ahead then–“ 

He rubbed the frog, and it swallowed the two of you this time, you tried to land on your feet like you had done on your way out earlier that day, but you didn’t think how much more complicated it would be to do it with someone else also being inside the passage so instead you tripped over Remus’ long legs and the invisibility cloak. By the time you were falling over the small room, he was the first one on the ground, you fell on top closely behind, gravity and the force of the frog having your lips crashing against the corner of his. 

“Ugh sorry,” you said as you used your good arm to prompt yourself up and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of your sweater, you were certain some of your saliva had ended up rubbing all over the poor boy’s face, even if you couldn’t see shit. Remus was thankful the place was so dark because if you had actually seen how red he’d gotten, you probably would’ve started to realise that something was off. 

“It’s fine,” he said, grabbing your arm gently to stop it from rubbing into his face, he licked his lips, you still tasted exactly like you had at Marlene’s party. He felt bIood start to rush down, and coughed, moving his face to the side “Would you mind getting off, though?” 

“Sorry,” you repeated, lifting yourself and standing all together. You extended your hand for him to grab as soon as you were up. You still barely made the figure of him on the floor, but you were sure he saw a lot better, since only seconds later he grabbed your hand, and started to stand as well. 

“Your shoulder ok?”

You rolled it over “Yeah, fell on my chest,” you said. Yeah, I noticed, he thought, but didn’t say a thing “And you broke most of the fall. Are you okay?” 

He nodded, then remembered you probably couldn’t see it, “Yeah, totally.” 

You pulled your wand from your pocket then using a very controlled version of incendio to turn on the kerosene lantern in the corner, but when you did, several other candles, one by one, started to turn on all over the room, and then out of a small phonograph started playing soft, sexy music. You looked around, taking the whole place in, and when you realised what was going on, you broke into a laugh. 

Remus started laughing right afterwards, the whole situation was so hilarious to you that you straight up bent down, placing a hand on the table to keep yourself standing. You felt Remus place his hand over your upper back as he too tried to hold himself up “Wouldn’t have assumed Richie to be such a romantic,” you said as you tried to regain your breath.

“What?! But he had a whole love triangle going on,” Remus told you, he was also trying to regain his breath “He was a total heartbreaker at his time.”

You gasped “Wait really?” 

“Yeah, heard some other ghosts talking about him.” 

“You really do learn something new every day,” you said, finally standing up straight, and pointing at the old phonograph, it stopped playing instantly. Good riddance, whatever version of spicy 1800s sexy music Richie was into, wasn’t vibing with you.

Remus was relieved that the laughing had made you just as red as him, you were as flushed as each other now, just for different reasons. You took a few more deep breaths and stood in front of the table, casually walking over to him and pulling the book from his bag, still panting a little.  You had done it with such a naturality, such confidence as you invaded his personal space that he almost thought you were Sirius for a second. 

You opened the book on the table and started looking for the potion you’d be brewing, taking out some of the ingredients from your backpack as he busied himself pulling the stuff from his own shoulder bag. Once you had all the stuff you’d brought on the table you walked over to the small potions cupboard Richie had left in the corner of the small room. 

“You think this place is soundproof?” he asked. 

“Well, if it really was Richie’s make-out room, and if he even had a phonograph, I’d say it’d make sense for it to be soundproof,” you said diverted “Why, wanna bring Alice over?” you added with a cheeky smile. 

Who?!, he almost asked, before remembering what an ass he was for even thinking it, “It’s your secret spot, I’d never.” 

“Technically It’s Richie’s,” you said with a shrug. “But I’d let you.” 

“I still wouldn’t want to,” he said then, almost too quickly, “It’s ours,” he mumbled almost to himself, you’d taken him there, he was not going to take any other girl, or boy for that matter. Either way, the only boy he’d want to take there would be Sirius, and you’d probably take him there eventually either way. 

“Oh, he has some good stuff here,” you said as you continued checking, distracting yourself with some of the vials and flasks in the corner of the room “You think these can expire?” 

He turned to you “Uhm… Haven’t they been here since the 1800s…” 

“Mid 1800s,” you corrected “Like… 150 years ago.”

“Right…” Remus said, “I mean I guess the dried stuff wouldn’t actually expire,” he shrugged, “Pass me the small cauldron, would you?” he asked. You grabbed it from the corner, using both hands when you realised it was heavier than you expected “BIoody hell what did they make them with back then?” 

“Cast Iron,” he said as he walked towards you and pulled it from your grasp with one hand, carefully sitting it on top of the table. You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly jealous of his werewolf strength. “You brought the measuring cups, yeah?” 

You nodded and pulled them out of your bag before handing them over to him, and turning back to the section with the vials “We’ve also got this,” you said as you pulled a small weight scale from the cupboard “They’re meant to be more accurate.” 

“They are,” he agreed as he extended his hand to take it from yours. You kept exploring the ingredients on the cupboard as he measured. You found a few interesting things, along with Richie’s very own pot of Spider Venom’s Essence. Except this one had evaporated with time and was a way thicker liquid –like molasses- pooling at the bottom of the vase, while the one you’d gotten from Slughorn’s was syrupy, like a serum. You unclogged the corkscrew at the top and leaned it towards your nose. 

“Wait, hold up!” Remus said, but it had been too late, you had already gotten a whiff, and then you felt it, thousands of tiny feet crawling all over your skin, you shivered, closing your eyes shut as you hoped for the feeling to go away. You knew it was because of what you had done, so you didn’t panic, but your knowledge did not make the experience any less excruciating. You were sure you were flinching every couple of seconds as you felt Remus approach. 

He placed his hand over your good shoulder and you flinched again, “Here, drink this,” he said. You did as told, slowly the crawling started to go away. Remus still had his hand on your shoulder and was looking at you with a concentrated expression “Better?”

You nodded “Almost gone,” you said as you shivered one last time. “I was so not expecting that,” you said “What did I drink?” 

“Water and a bit of Webbane,” he said. “Yook it when you told me to grab the essence, I thought it could be useful…” 

You looked at him bemused “That was a brilliant call,” you said as you rolled your good shoulder to try and get the last bit of the crawling to go away, he finally pulled his hand away, just after he felt the way your muscles shifted underneath his hand.“How did you know?” 

“We were gonna use it once for a different prank, Peter did the exact same thing you just did, and he was whining about the crawling for like 2 hours. We investigated how to contrarrestar it afterwards.” 

You gasped “You’re telling me I would have gone through two hours of that if it hadn’t been for you?!?”

He shrugged, “Probably more, that thing looks really freaking potent.” 

You shivered just at the idea “Thank you, my saviour,” you said, he chuckled at your nickname. 

“You’re welcome,” he said with a little proud smile “Come on, let’s get back to work, we don’t have much time.” 

“We’ve got all night,” you said as you walked next to him and picked one of the ingredients at the bottom of the list to measure from bottom to top while he did the opposite. It’s something you had done many times before in classes. You had developed it to be faster in the measuring process and get on with the potion-making before most of the other teams. Your speed and precision always got you and Remus praises from Slughorn. 

“I’d rather get some sleep, tomorrow we’ll actually stay up all night setting everything up.” 

“I’m sure we won’t take too long,” you said. 

Unfortunately, the potion had a lot of rather precise steps and worse of all, long waiting times in between ingredients. You had laid your head down on the table, toying with a tiny little crystal globe that you had picked from one of the shelves, rolling back and forth, over your fingers and then side to side. Remus, who was actually sitting on a small stool you’d found and decided to take turns to use, leaned over his arms on the table, looking ahead at some of the books, and checking his wristwatch every couple of minutes. 

“How much longer till the Puffskein puff dust?” you asked with a yawn. 

“10 more minutes,” he responded, “then another 15 ‘till we can add the hairs from a nervous niffler,” he said, checking his clock one last time. And then looked at you, you were still rolling the little globe in your hands, carefully brushing your fingers around the small ball, with rather elegant hand movements, he stared straight at your hands. He was thinking of how delicate they looked, small and adorable, especially compared to his own, coated with scars.Remus suddenly felt a little self-conscious and shifted in his seat, pulling his hands under the table, you turned to him at the sudden movement, your eyes focusing on his “Do you want to play with it?” you asked as you picked the globe up and turned it in your hand. 

He shook his head in response “I was just looking at the way you were moving your hands,” he admitted “It was rather effortlessly elegant.” 

You shot your eyebrows up “You think?” you asked “I really liked going to the ballet when I was younger, maybe some of their movements stuck,” you said with a shrug, perhaps that was another reason you had been so drawn to Nighshade at the beginning, she moved like the dancers you so enjoyed looking at. 

He leaned his head on his hand again, turning to look at you instead “Did you ever do ballet?” 

You shook your head “Dad wouldn’t let me, said it was too much of a fairy thing to try out.” 

“And he doesn’t like fairies because…?” 

“My grandma’s half-fairy,” you said casually, “tho my parents have been trying to hide that from everyone since like forever.” 

“So you’re not actually a pure-bIood?” He asked, trying to hide his surprise. 

You shook your head with a tight-lipped smile “Never have been. But since Dad wanted to secure his place in the ministry and all those political things, he decided to keep the fact that he married someone that wasn’t actually pure bIood a secret.” 

“But that– Oh…” he said as if something dawned on him. “That’s why you’re so freaking charming and pretty, you’re part Fairy!” he said, not quite thinking before speaking. You looked at him with a surprised, slightly teasing expression “I didn’t- I mean…” 

You smiled a little wider at his sudden bashfulness and then burst into a laugh, “I too think you’re pretty Remus,” you said in between chuckles. 

He looked at you half surprised, and then shook his head sheepishly “‘m not.” 

“Well, I think you are and you cannot change my mind,” you said with a shrug, “catch this one,” you said as you rolled the crystal globe towards him, he caught it with ease.

She thinks I’m pretty. 

“What does it feel like to be part fairy?” he asked. 

“Normal,” you said with a shrug “What does it feel to be a werewolf?” 

“Take a guess,” he told you with an arched eyebrow and a very sarcastic tone.

“I mean… yeah, full moon’s shit. But in other times,” you said, “I’ve seen you, you have really good senses, you see better in the dark, you’re a lot stronger, you heal faster…” 

“Seems like you’ve been paying waaay too much attention to me,” he teased. 

“You’re my best friend, of course I would,” you said simply. Then the last drop of sand fell on the hourglass and it emitted a soft chiming sound. 

You stood straight and walked towards the small cauldron next to the boy. Placing the Puffskein puff dust on it and carefully mixing the ingredients clockwise, when you were done you flipped the hourglass again and walked back around the chair and the boy, sitting on the table this time, letting your feet dangle like you had done when you talked to Richie. 

“If you want the stool I can–” he said as he shuffled in his seat.

You shook your head “-Nah I’m fine,” you said as you looked at the ceiling and let yourself fall on the table, slowly so you wouldn’t disturb the potion, your skirt rode up a little and Remus forced himself to look at your face, but the way your hair had sprawled all over as you laid in the table wasn’t helping him either. You then dipped your hand in your pockets and took out a bar of chocolate.

“Want some?” you said as you broke the bar in half and extended your hands towards him. 

He smiled “Of course,” he said and grabbed the piece, his hand brushing over yours just slightly. He did it on purpose, he wanted to feel your hands, the way you moved the globe had been tempting enough. “You know I’d never refuse a chocolate.” 

You smiled “Even less if it’s Honyduke’s,” you said with a smile, he just chuckled in response. 

That night Remus and you talked about nothing and everything all at once, he told you about his parents, about his father being against werewolves and how the retaliation of that had ended up in his furry little problem. You told him about your old school, about your family, about the time you met Sirius. Although he had already heard the story, he was interested to hear it from your point of view instead of Sirius’. All the while you’d carefully measure and add the ingredients on the potion. You talked about school and classes and he told you some of the pranks they had done before, all the different ways they’d gotten caught, just for you to be careful tomorrow night. 

“You think we can use this one instead?” you asked as you grabbed the thicker and older version of Spider venom essence.

He had his head turned towards the caldron and looked at you through his lashes, yeah there was no question about it, Remus John Lupin was pretty. “You think it’s a good idea?” 

You shrugged “Could make it a bit more potent?” 

Remus laughed, “If you want to do it, we’ll do it.” 

You shook your head “I don’t want to actually hurt them, though.” 

“SVE is not poisonous, can’t actually hurt anyone unless it’s combined with something else. It will make you feel miserable for a couple of hours depending on the portion thought.” 

“You think it’s a good idea?” 

“This is your revenge plan sweetheart, your call.” You had a brief flashback to Richie calling you that, it didn’t sound the same way as it did from Remus’ lips. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that when Remus said it, it… sounded right. “So…?” 

You looked at the vial in your hands and then turned to him, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips “Let’s do it.” 

It must have been like three a.m. when the potion was finally ready. You had to retrace your steps, going back to Slughorn’s to return all the ingredient bottles and cover your own tracks. Both you and Remus were careful enough to wipe all the bottles clean since you had talked about detective novels and fingerprints earlier that night. Finally, you went back to your rooms, he walked you all the way to your door and gave you one of the potions you’d brewed, the one that you’d have to use the next morning. He kept the ones you’d be using at night. 

“See you tomorrow,” you whispered, leaning onto him so that it would be barely audible and then sneaked inside of your room. 

When the door slowly and silently closed behind you, Remus sighed, letting out a long breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding so far. Then he shut his eyes and crouched on the floor, taking deep breaths as he tried to process everything that had gone through his mind that night. He was sure he was going crazy, must have been consumed by greed. How was it possible for him to fall in love with not one but two of his best friends? At once?!?!  

Friday, November 26th, 1976

Later that morning you’d been the first one to wake, and because of the prank, there was no way either of you skipped your morning rides since you all wanted to appear as natural as possible. Regardless of the fact that you had actually gone, James had developed a couple of tactics so that it only looked like you were practising really hard, by screaming and telling you to do laps while the three of you hid behind one of the towers or something. You basically made a huge show of it. And when you went back to the castle you were all laughing. You took the quickest shower of your life and walked straight downstairs. 

This was going to be one of the most crucial parts of the mission, and they had trusted you with it. You took a deep breath and used your wand to rub the pear at the entrance of the kitchens. “Have you seen Nimbletwist?” you asked one of the elves who shook his head in response. You sighed and continued asking around the elves frantically, but neither of them knew where Nimbletwist was. Which was logical since you knew she had been commissioned to the Owlery all week. 

But as you continued walking around the kitchen frantically, you started to lay small portions of the liquid you had hidden in your left sleeve onto every single one of the water, juice and even wine vases available. It was a relaxing potion, similar to the one Remus drank, but with a longer release time, which meant, every single person in the castle would have a very swell and relaxing day. And –and this is where the catch was– they would also sleep like a log. 

The best part is that this particular potion was untraceable since there was no smell nor taste to it, and no one in the castle would be affected by it, at least no more than accidentally falling asleep in a class because they drank too much orange juice in the morning. Once you were sure you’d placed drops of the potion all over the drinks, you hid a smile that was tempting to creep up your face and turned to yet another elf, one that you knew hung out with Nimbletwist often. 

“Haven’t you seen her?” You asked the small elf with an innocent tone.

“Her? You mean Nimbletwist master?” he asked in a squeaky voice. You nodded, and he shook his head in response “Pebblier hasn't been spotting Nimbletwist because she isn't in the kitchens anymore. Nimbletwist has been labouring in another location all week.” 

“She has?” you asked with a bit of a frown and a gasp, selling damn well your false surprise “And here I was making trouble all over the kitchen while looking for her…” you added with a small pout and a slightly dejected look.

“You hasn’t been making any ruckus master,” Pebblier said “We house elves enjoy yer company, in the kitchens. You’s a very kind witch.” 

You swallowed, feeling a little bad for having tricked them all to get the prank going, but it really was a harmless thing, so even if you had tricked them, you were sure they wouldn’t find trouble because of it. So you managed to smile awkwardly, trying to think of ways in which you’d make it up to them. “Thank you Pebblier, you’re very kind yourself.” 

The small house elf smiled and gave you a thumbs up, walking alongside you towards the exit as he told you about the lemon pie recipe he had been working on the past week. He said it’d be available the next day as a special little treat. He also asked where exactly on the table you sat so he could send one up right where you were and you could make sure to size a slice. Nimbletwist had told him how much you liked pie at some point, and he was rather eager to have you try it.

You wondered how it was possible that Hogwarts house-elves were so nice in comparison to the one in your house, or the one in Sirius’, whom he had told you about. 

Once out of the kitchen you walked straight upstairs and sat alongside the girls “No conspiratory plotting in the morning,” you had advised them, which is why James suggested that you sit with the girls instead of them, so even if something went wrong in the end, you had an alibi. And you all had already prepared your alibis for the night too. Remus had told everyone he’d be studying late in the library, and everyone knew when he studied late, he often found a small little nook somewhere where he wouldn’t be bothered by anybody. Sometimes people even thought they saw him in the library even if he hadn’t been there from how often he did it, so it was perfect. 

You and Sirius had planned a “date”, you’d told everyone you’d be walking together by the lake that evening, and you’d even convinced Tom, who you knew was going to be practising apparitions on the grounds, to tell people he had seen you there. Tom, being Tom, had just given you a cheeky smile, a suggestive look and said “I’ve got you covered,” with a rather exaggerated wink. 

James and Peter would hang out in the Gryffindor common room for a while and then head up to their room with the excuse that James wanted to be well-rested since he had to start preparing his mind and body for the game against Gryffindor that Sunday. They’d planned to make a very loud exit and make sure that at least ten people saw them leave. Once they were in their room, they would use Sirius’ record player to play some snoring and their own voices filmed in between. That way if anyone passed by when it was still early, it would sound like they really were in the room, even if by then, they would have already put on the cloak and left. 

Once in your place at the table, you turned in the direction of the boys, looking at each of them straight in the eye and raising your goblet filled with water. Sirius smiled, you winked at him. And after smiling back at the girls, you placed the goblet back onto the table, without drinking a drop. That was the signal the boys were waiting for, they too gave a small toast in between themselves,  empty goblets in hand clashing against each other. 

Later that night on divination you were sitting next to James when you realised one of the Ravenclaw girls, who normally paid attention, was falling asleep as the Professor went on and on about the qualities of reading divination balls. Others were so dazed as they stared at their crystal balls, that they might as well have been asleep altogether. 

You snickered as you pointed at Quentin Finchley, a Ravenclaw boy who was practically snoring in the back. 

James rolled his eyes and whispered, “Look at what you did Vixen, you’ve plummeted the GPA of the Ravenclaws for your little vendetta.” 

“Shut it Prongs, it’s not as if this part of the plan hadn’t been your idea.” 

He just shrugged “Might have been. But remind me again who went around the kitchen tricking all the poor elves?” 

You elbowed him playfully on the side, ready to continue your little quarrell when you noticed Spellman turning to you with a heavy stare. You gulped and stood straighter, prompting James to look at the crystal ball, as if that had been the thing you had been talking about from the very beginning. 

After divination, you had Magical Theory, where you both worked on your glasses until they were ready. You still had to work on the presentation and on the written section of the design, but the teacher had been so impressed with how fast you’d managed to make your item work that he prompted you to also work on another of your ideas.  He said he’d give you an extra mark on your grades for the second part of the school year if you did. 

All thought both you and James had whined about it when he was gone –since you’d had much more work to do– you were pretty excited about the fact that you’d get to work on one of the other ideas, especially some of those long-distance communication items inspired by muggle technology, you thought they could be extra useful for the break, to keep in contact with each other. 

After class was over, the plan finally went into motion. You had decided you’d all meet inside some of the passageways. That way you could each use your own little entrance and reduce the risk of being found out. After dinner, you went straight to the entrance that Remus had shown you on your first day since it was the closest to the Dining Hall and the path you knew best. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Happy New Year!!! Some of you must already be in 2024, some of us are still in 2023, so this is definitely an interesting time to post. And while some of you might be enjoying dinner with family or partying out with friends, I decided to give a little something to those who are home alone and in need of some friends. I love you guys, you have made my 2023 so much better just by commenting and existing and being there, may 2024 bring you all the joy and love in the world. Lilly xxx

Raead more Marauders Fiction

[jolapeno]

this year's love.

simon ghost riley x f!reader

wc: 5.5k warnings: angst. fluff. smut. feelings. usual jo things. summary: And then you begin calling him Riley. It’s more flirtatious—more meaningful. Simon is when you’re soft, thanking him, when others are close and can hear you. Riley is when you’re leaning over the bar, staring into his soul and smirking so deviously it takes a lot to not kiss it off your lips. an: from the drabble where ghost 'dates' a non-militant he meets in a pub. this is dedicated to @yeyinde for reminding me why British pubs are adorable, and also to @guyfieriii because she hates my angst, but loves my fluff, and makes me want to write better.

simon ghost riley masterlist

He suspects he should stay away. 

As soon as he began to crave the sight of you. Ignoring the fact he’s heard This Year's Love by David Gray three times already—and he has only been here an hour. The condensation beads from his glass pools on the picked-at-bar mat, drenching his fingers and wrist. 

Not that he cares. 

Ghost—

Simon knows it’s all part of the charm. 

It has been since the day he turned eighteen and his boss at the butchers took him for his first pint. 

The place hasn’t changed since. Everything from the same ten to twelve songs which crackle through the worn and tired speakers. The smokey air, and discoloured, yellowing wallpaper. 

Things don’t get replaced either, the chipped glass ashtrays are the same as the ones he remembers. The same chipped mahogany tables with the ill-matching chairs and stools that are wobbly.

The scent in the place is familiar, a mix between festering ale and Mr Sheen, working men and cheap perfume, fust and smoke—both from the crackling winter fire and cigarettes—even if one hasn’t been smoked inside of it for years. 

The place, to outsiders, would look like any stone-walled pub on the corner of two streets they’ll never remember. Then they’ll step in, their eyes glancing over the peeling wallpaper, moth-eaten curtains (that never close) and the once-white nets in the windows, before questioning what they’ve walked into. That’s before they’ve noticed the white ball on the pool table is in fact another black ball and that the dart board triple 20 has been chipped out after Bald-Andy lost his rag. 

The pub has been a real gem to those who know what real diamonds are for as long as Simon can remember. None of the regulars care that the bar stools have burns from cigarettes being stubbed out, they don’t care that the musty smell doesn’t vanish even with Febreze and sheer will. It’s expected, just like how the bar is always sticky and the energy always feels right. 

Here, he can relax. 

When he’s home, he feels purposeless. A man with a map but no direction. But, he can unfurl his shoulders from his ears, even let his hood slide to the back of his neck. 

Because in this place, strangers aren’t welcome. It’s a local pub, for local folk. Those who wander in, thinking the pub on the corner of quaint and quintessential will provide them with a typical British evening, normally leaving before Freddie Mercury has reached the bridge of whatever song is on rotation. 

But, Simon isn’t just here for the bourbon or the ale, he’s not here because the wooden fire licks every wall of the place. He’s not here because it feels more like home than his actual home. 

He’s here because there’s one thing that has changed, and it’s you. 

You with a rosy, sweet laugh that usually accompanies a smile which makes his heart gallop. It calms whatever storm rages inside of him when you look at him—when you bore your pretty, fucking eyes into him before you lean over, hand on the beer pump as you call him Simon. 

Simon. 

His name has never sounded more serene than when it falls from your lips. The way you say it makes it seem less than ordinary, almost unique. Humour sways in your eyes, a glint he knows there’s more too—and wants nothing more than to explore. 

You’re a vibrant surprise in the middle of my mundane, and it took him all of five minutes to discern you’re both difficult and charming all rolled into one. 

And then you begin calling him Riley. 

It’s more flirtatious—more meaningful. 

Simon is when you’re soft, thanking him, when others are close and can hear you. Riley is when you’re leaning over the bar, staring into his soul and smirking so deviously it takes a lot to not kiss it off your lips.

Women haven’t tended to last here—except Tracy. Tracy, who like the urinal cakes, has been here since Simon’s first pint. Her lines had deepened in her skin over time, but her hair has remained that putrid blonde she tries to claim is natural. 

You, on the other hand, are far younger—kind, soft, unless someone gets lairy and then there’s a ferociousness to you that’s packed into something so small. He suspects you know what the men at the bar look at when your eyes aren’t looking, and it’s not the way you command the small space stuffed with offerings and glasses. 

He’d paid no mind initially. Tried not to, anyway. He’d decided it would be for the best. Then you’d bite back at Dave that you may be too young to remember a song,  but you could still get down on her knees without them creaking. 

He had smirked at that. 

Deciding his new seat at the bar, on the rickety bar stool was his new favourite seat. 

To this day, you always smell floral, but the accompanying scent with it changes. Sometimes you’re sultry, sometimes you’re just sweet. Each time he is able to return ‘home’ he’s never sure which one he’ll get—but it burns a place in his nose all the same. 

Hard to shift, difficult to smother, not that he wishes to do either. 

Their first exchanges were simple. Contractual. Another? Yes. Your usual? Yes. Then you had placed a deck of cards in front of him, a teasing smile on your face in the quietness of a Wednesday evening. 

Keep me company. 

It was difficult for him to grasp how soft your eyes were, how it made his mind blank and his heart both hammer and stutter all at once. 

Now, it’s normal. 

He’s used to it, fucking welcomes the way they land on him. He thinks about them on the plane ride home, how Alan—the chef who’ll serve anything off-menu for a packet of fags—makes a mean all-day breakfast sandwich. But mostly, it’s you. 

“You back for long, Riley?” 

“No.”

“Never are.” 

“You sound disappointed, sweetheart.” 

You always smile the same when he calls you that. Always half-roll your eyes before shaking your head, as though flirting with you is oh so wrong. 

Especially when you start it first. 

“What would you do if I was?” 

That’s new. 

His fingers pick up a crisp, watching you lean on the pump in front of you. The star earrings hanging from your ears, catch the bar spotlights, making it seem as though you’re literally glowing. 

But then, you are—to him at least. 

Someone calls for you, pint raised in hand—saving him from answering. You wink, and mumble you’ll be right back, the words lingering in the space you once stood. 

You’re too good for him. 

Too normal. Too unscarred and untouched. He suspects a bad thing has never happened to you. You’ve not plunged a knife into someone’s throat, not shot a moving target with a precision that most try to replicate on their controllers and headsets. 

For that reason, and that reason alone, he knows he should stay on this side of the bar. Even when it takes all of his self-restraint to do so. 

It’s hard though. 

More so when you give him that look—that one which makes his cock twitch and his thoughts turn feral. 

Because the nice girl from the pub may have a sweet, soft voice, but fuck he knows you’re anything but. 

You’re all red lips and righteousness, a siren and enchantress who chooses floral perfume to try and disguise the way your eyes undress him. 

Not that he complains. 

He’s done the same. 

Fucked his own fist to the thought of the noises you’d make and how you’d feel enveloped around his cock. 

Tonight he’d likely do the same. 

Winter is in full effect when he next returns. 

Snow was thick on the streets, the roads a horrid mix of ice, slush and asphalt. 

You’re behind the bar, Bald-Andy and his wife in the corner near the fire, and the crackling, gruff voice of Oasis is playing. You look up, lips smirking, eyes glistening. 

“The usual?” 

He considers it. Sweet, caramel and vanilla notes hit his tongue in memory. But he shakes his head, pulling out a stool, and sitting opposite you as your perfume greets him. 

“Surprise me, sweetheart.” 

You stand fully, hair falling around your face, making his heart lurch and his stomach burn. 

“Living dangerously, I see,” you say, turning your back to him as you pull at spirit bottles.

If only you knew. 

He suspects something sweet when you place the glass in front of him. The sound of it meeting the worn wood so loud, not that the other two patrons look over. As though it’s just the two of you. No one else. His eyes lift, hooking themselves into yours—unwilling to let you tear them from him as he tries to bury the aches of war and fighting. 

It’s caramel coloured, darker at the bottom of the glass than the top. Ice. So much ice. 

“Go on, try it, Simon.” 

And he does. 

It’s sweet, and zingy. It’s mellow but spicy, and he tastes the hints of ginger and rum as the cold hits his teeth. 

“What y’made me?” 

“You like it?” 

Yes. 

The tip of your tongue swiping across your bottom lip, watching you lean smugly. “Dark and stormy… the epitome of you.”

A groan leaving his lips, your laugh tasting of sunshine and happier days. 

A long moment stretches between the two of you, one that makes the air thrum and him having to shift his jeans. A continuous voice in his head, telling him no, telling him to put a stop to this now. 

He drinks it. He even orders it again. 

Time ticks fast—too fast. He wants it to slow. Ever since their first flirtation, if you’ve finished when he’s there—he walks you to your car. 

You drive something small, your entire backseat is always covered in coats, shoes and books. Something normal, and so typically you. 

He does the same tonight, hands in his jacket pockets, periodically scanning the area as you lock the big wooden doors of the pub. You shake them, ensuring you have, pocketing the keys before turning to nudge him. 

Simple. Soft. Each gesture in the short walk is always seemingly effortless. You don’t worry he’ll take offence, that he’ll shatter or snap. 

Not that he would. 

His arm lifting, letting your small hand slide around it for stability as the snow falls thick and fast. It paints the streets in a blanket that crunches under their boots. And there’s something about the snow landing in your hair, on the tip of your nose, even on your lower lip. 

He wants to brush it from your mouth, and trace the bow of your upper lip with his thumb. 

Because it’s all a contradiction. Snow makes you look innocent, something close to a character from a movie or a Disney film. And, you’re not any of those things. 

You’re snarky, huffed whispers and quick retorts when drunkards try to hit on you; you’re witty, funny and boldly brilliant.

So much so, he’s never sure why you work there. He knows you’re studying, knows you’re trying to better yourself. You’ve told him as much over a Pepsi Max in your hand and something stronger in his. 

He knows it’s odd to keep staring at you. Your eyes staring up, making your eyes seem wider and bigger than they actually are—pretty sure the flurries of snow, stars and moon are shining in them. But it’s his treat—his reward. The thing he thinks about when he’s knee-deep in mud or covered in blood, sweat and bruises. 

Your feet stop at your car, unlocking it—the beep and flash of your headlights casting light across the car park. 

“You back for long?” 

“No.”

Smiling, you lean against the rear window. “Never are.” 

It’s a pattern, a habit. An exchange that has become the norm for the two of you as much as hello and goodbye. 

Then, you sigh.

Something you rarely do, not to him—not with him. His brows knitting, tightening, heart thundering in his throat as you drag your eyes up his chest, and neck and land on his face. 

“Do you know how perfect it would be, if you grew a pair and kissed me in the snow, Riley?” 

Your hand slides into the handle, opening it as your smirk turns into a grin. One which is brighter than your headlights, the moon—hell, the fucking sun. 

“Guess I’ll have to wait for a shooting star, instead.” 

And, you laugh, leaning your back against the car—expression blended with vulnerability and searing heat that should melt the settling ice on your face. 

“Y’seem like the sorta woman to make me work for it.” 

“Oh yes, because eighteen months of will-they-won’t-they hasn’t been tedious enough.” 

He grabs your elbow, roughly pulling but finds you fall into him with far too much ease. The snow continues to fall, leaving soft cold kisses on his face, but he doesn’t feel cold. 

How could he? You’re staring up at him with the searing heat of the sun. 

“Y’want me to kiss you, Sweetheart?” 

“More than I want to go home and sleep, Riley.” 

His hand cups your cheek, warm meeting cold as he pulls your lips to his. Cold, soft lips slide against his, and he tastes the orange from your cordial swirling with his bourbon-covered tongue. Your car groans when he presses you against it, your hand clutching him with the same desperation as he’s flush with your body. 

Your cheeks are warm against his hands, eyelashes fluttering open as the two of you break apart. 

“You… you want to come back to mine?”

Yes. Fuck yes. 

But—

“Next time.” 

“Yeah?” 

His fingers brush down your cheek, and he nods. 

He got your number. 

For convenience. You tell him he didn’t need to come in and drink one of your piss-poor beer pulls just to get in your knickers. 

So he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t text when he first lands. He gives himself a day—a moment to shed the Ghost and become Simon. When you do you don’t reply with anything witty, just straight-laced—just like he likes it. 

A time. An address. 

He expects you to size him up at your front door, even bracing for a changed mind. You don’t do either. You let the door open, standing two steps inwards dressed in something lace and rippable. 

Fuckin’ fuck. 

It’s the only thought he has before he slams your door behind him, striding towards you and practically throwing you over his shoulder. 

You don’t taste like what he expects—it’s better. 

His tongue flattens against you, two fingers inside your warm cunt as you whimper. You reluctantly still clutching to the promise you’d made earlier. The one where you informed him it’ll take more than a few fingers and a skilled tongue to make you scream. 

So he sucks. Bites. Nips. 

He finds that squishy part, stroking it as your thighs twitch by his ears. 

It’s then he grants himself the chance to look at you, finding your lipstick spread in a way which seems deliberately chaotic—even if he knows it isn’t. Your lashes wet, eyes clamped shut as you try and try not to give in. 

So fuckin’ stubborn. 

Your hands, all smooth and soft, clutching your breasts, the pink of a nipple poking out between your index and thumb as your chest rises and falls as you fight calling out his name. 

He likes that you have convictions—it gives him something to break. 

His tongue swirling, knowing already what he needs to do to undo you. 

And then—

Simon—fuc-k, Simon.

It’s better than classical, better than whatever is number one on the fuckin’ charts. The sound of you coming hard, and fast, trying to bury it in a whisper than the scream you actually want to release. All of it is a better sound than his knife plunging into some unsuspecting op—because he will make you scream. 

He laps up every ounce you give him, your pleading whimpers and nails in his hair making him groan against your cunt until you almost snap his neck—or try to. 

“Take them off. Now.”

He doesn’t like orders.

He fucking detests them. He gives them. Normally loud and booming. But your voice, all sweet and high-pitched, trying to give stern eyes when your lashes are coated in tears he’s caused…

Your eyes widen when he stands naked. And he knows he’s big. 

He’s very fucking aware of it. He’s seen plenty of evidence to support the fact in the wild, surprised eyes of those who he’s dropped his trousers for. 

You now being one of them. 

But fuck, he fits in you perfectly. So much so, he wants to mould your insides to match him, to ruin you for every other person who thinks they stand a chance with you.

Because they don’t. 

But then neither does he. 

Not that he’ll squander a moment to fuck with heaven—to hear the cadence shift when he hooks your leg over his hip as he drives his cock into you all the way to the hilt. 

He coaxes another out of you, your tight cunt like a vice around him as your manicured nails leave scratches on his back. His tongue swipes across your jaw, before haphazardly capturing your mouth. 

You taste like mint polos and sex—a taste he is already sure he’ll crave. 

And he wonders to himself if you know how fucking perfect you are. If you have any idea of how stunning you truly are. 

Especially like this. Your body shimmering with sweat, each thrust making your breasts bounce as your fingers tease his hair at the nape of his neck. 

And then he wonders about something else. 

Something far from coating your walls in his come.

Would you fit in his life? 

Would you fit as well in it, as he does inside your cunt?

And then you’re clenching, hips lazily trying to meet his as you whimper, moan—

And then you scream. 

Not Riley.

But Simon.

Mission accomplished. 

It has become a habit. 

You have become a habit. 

He lands. He waits a day. He fucks you until you are raw, sore and breathless. His lips are on yours, hands still on your hips as he hears how hoarse your voice is. 

“You back for long?”

“No.”

But this no is different.

It’s tinged with half a teaspoon of regret and sadness. 

You hide your face when he answers now. Sometimes by slinging your arm to shield him from your eyes or by turning from him. It’s like you know he likes them. Likes being able to see each infliction of emotion in them—shimmering, dancing, storming across in front of him. 

Somehow, you’ve fit into his life too well—cutting yourself a hole, forcing your way in, and making it seem as though you were always there. 

Simon lets you be, too. 

You have one of his t-shirts, baggy, black and covered in your perfume. He finds he has one of your hair ties around his wrist, not even realising until he slides on a pair of gloves. Flicking it against his wrist as he thinks of you, something he only allows himself to do briefly.

Things have changed. Shifted. 

But the Earth hasn’t fallen off its axis and he’s not fucked up a mission. So he counts his blessings. He doesn’t know if he believes good things can happen to him, but he could be persuaded that he can have nice things. A belief he even starts to accept. A reality he begins to wish for, rather than keep at arm's length. 

You’ve left the pub. You hadn’t been working every night for a while. Your studies had ended—receiving a photo of a cap and gown without your face when he was in the middle of a desert. 

Now you’re working a better job, one you deserve more—it’s creative, more you. You make the world brighter, and better while he’s getting dirty and riding the world of darkness. You text him once, the day you got paid, that you bought him something nice.

Something he ripped with his teeth when he landed—much to your annoyance. 

You’re no longer the girl in the pub. You’re perfectly applied make-up he fucks off your face. You’re high heels and pencil skirts—and sometimes fitted trousers that hug your arse so beautifully, he’s almost a bit jealous. You’re the pink sky at night, laughter that warms his chest, and a smile he thinks about as he falls asleep. 

“What would my alias be?” 

Your hand slides over a plate to him. Cheese on toast. Nothing big, nothing major, but he stares at it all the same. Because you’ve made him something. 

You’ve been doing it for a while, and each time is as perplexing as the last. His brain is unable to figure out how, why and what he’s done to deserve it. Even if it’s toast, a sandwich, or a fucking meal. 

Because it’s something outside of sex. It’s outside of holding the back of your head as he fucks your throat; outside of him pinning you against the dark alleyway of the pub he first saw you in, making you both cold and warm all at once. 

Even if he knows—constantly turns it over and over in his mind—that this isn’t just sex. He’s not entirely sure what this is. Except…nice?

You take a bite of your own, the crunch filling the air, crumbs littering your top—his top. “My call sign.” 

Simon isn’t sure why he told you about what he did. You were in his arms, warm, smelling of sex, flowers and something sharp. And, it fell out of him. Still drunk off your cunt, lost in the tenderness of your fingers on his chest, playing it a pattern with your nails. 

Not everything. Fuck, he couldn’t tell you everything—wouldn’t. But you know enough. 

Enough for him to know you’re not running, that you still want him knocking on your door whenever he lands—whether it's morning, noon or night. 

Now, you’re making him food. Legs long, his black t-shirt skimming your thighs—all his. Looking ever so inviting, making it hard not to push you up on the counter and give your neighbours something to talk about.

“Egg.”

You snort, sharp and light. “Egg?! You’re fuckin’ rude, Riley. Egg? No, that’s shit, give me a better one.” 

“But, true. You’d shatter, you’re more yolk than shell, you.”

“C’mon, be serious.” 

He gives you a look, finding the one you’re giving him sultry, teasing—demanding. 

“Snow.” 

You stare for several seconds before you hum, crunching the corner of your food with your teeth. “Lemme guess because I’m oh-so-delicate?”

No—

It’s because you’re fucking perfect. 

Because you’re his favourite season and favourite moment.

On some deeper level, he suspects it’s because you’re pure. That you’re unruined. Untainted. Your body has no scars—except the one from chicken pox and one on your hand from a glass bottle shattering. But, that’s it. He’s kissed every inch of you to know, to be 100% sure. 

You’re Snow because each time he sees it, he thinks of you. Those red lips, all that fucking audacity and the way you kissed him, tasting as warm as bourbon and as sweet as sugar. 

“Yeh, ‘cause you’re all pure and innocent, Sweetheart.”

You laugh, richly. Head thrown back, perfect thin neck exposed to the air—to him. 

And he wants to kiss you. 

He wants to taste your laugh and smile, let his hands run around the back of your thighs and feel you against every inch of him. 

That’s when your eyes land on him again—all full of questions and spice. Your tongue drags across your plush bottom lip, wiping up the grease from the cheese as he swallows. 

His throat suddenly dry. 

Because the girl he met in the pub—the one standing before him—is standing in his t-shirt. Looking every bit delicious, good enough to eat and never come up for air. 

And he thinks—

Realises, he actually, might—probably—miss you when he goes back to Price. 

It’s stretched on for months. A year. 

He lands, uses the key you gave him and stamps the snow from his boots, half smiling to himself as he does. Whenever he gets here, he doesn’t wait, he finds his way to whatever room you’re in.

Sometimes he doesn’t get far, your body colliding with his. All curves in his hands and arms around his neck, and he’s not sure what the fuck this is, but he likes it. 

Loves it. 

It’s something like a song about falling in love and a peaceful Sunday morning; it’s those moments you see in movies that make your eyes swell with tears as he stares at you, wondering how on earth you’re so goddamn amazing. 

It’s familiar, and yet he has no idea what is happening next or why. 

Mostly, though, Simon knows it’s something because he said your name to Johnny. 

Not because he was dying, not because he was hurt. But in the middle of a normal conversation, one exchanged on some dark rooftop, stars twinkling, and eyes fixated on a building down a scope. 

Normally, he wouldn’t have answered. Would have ignored him. 

If y’could be anywhere, right now, Lt. Where’d y’pick?

He didn’t need to think. 

He didn’t say home. Because home wasn’t his place, the pub or even the fuckin’ city he’s always ever known. It’s wherever you are. It’s where your heart beats and your bed is placed; it’s where your annoying, shitty music taste is blaring and that sleepy smile is when he wakes up next to you. 

So, Simon said your name. 

Simple. Easy. 

Except it wasn’t simple or fucking easy. It was messy, and complicated. Because Johnny tilted his head, in that obnoxious way he does, demanding more information than he is ever prepared to ever share. 

‘Fuck off, Johnny, before I punt y’off the rooftop and tell Price you’d been a cunt.’

Because you are locked away when he’s here. You are chained inside his chest, the deepest fucking secret—one no one will ever fucking take no matter how much they dig, how much they push him too. 

You are his.

Something only he gets to enjoy—gets to see, hear and taste. 

He’s done all of that for the last hour. Getting some sick satisfaction from edging you until you’re pleading with him, begging him with every breath you have to let you come as you wriggle and wiggle, urging him to lift your legs—just like he likes it, how you like it, and make you see fucking stars.

Now, you’re barefoot. 

A different t-shirt of his hiding the welts he’s left, the growing bruises from the way he’d needed to hold you in place. Watching, observing—admiring—the oddness to your steps as you flick on the kettle. He’s always close—looming in the sun’s shadows across the kitchen he knows better than his own. 

He has to be. Wants to be.

You’ve not just carved a place in your life, but in his chest—his heart. You’ve seeped into his skin, into his soul, merging and bringing to life something he thought had wilted and died. He doesn’t care that he’s vulnerable, that he’s not jagged edges and sharp stares. 

“You wanna go out with me? Tonight?” 

You pause, tea bag in hand, looking over your shoulder at him as if he’d asked you to slaughter a pig, a child, a whole bloody family. 

The moment is tender, almost fragile. 

It trembles under the weight of his question and the silence of your thoughts. 

Then it stills—

“You don’t… you don’t have to do that…” 

“What?” 

Dashing the tea bag into the cup, you turn. Hips leaning against the counter, sigh falling from your swollen, pink lips as your arms fold. The air scented with that familiar smell your home always has—jasmine and pineapple, the sun kissing your toes and legs as your face shows thunder and rain. 

The air shifts, changing. It’s speckled in ice with a cold breeze punctuated by you suddenly not able to meet his eyes. 

“Date me. Change… this. I know that you… I know you don’t have time for that.” 

Except he doesn’t hear that, he hears me. 

He suspects you don’t say it to hurt him. 

But it does. 

It wounds—

It fucking burns. It’s on par with a bullet or a rusty knife, twisting and twisting until it’s hitting nerves and making muscles quake. 

It worsens when the kettle clicks, ready—waiting. It blows steam under your cupboards, billowing out around the edges before it rushes to the ceiling. Twisting, turning, desperate to escape the uncomfortable space between the two of you. 

But, he just wants to pull you close—impossibly close. He wants to cradle and fucking hug you, even if he never hugs anyone. Simon wants to tell you that he hasn’t been doing this with anyone else. That it’s been over a year of this, and even he knows it’s something. 

Admittedly, yeah, he didn’t think he’d have fucking time for someone, and then you came in and blew that all to shit. But, on some level inside of him, he knows they aren’t the words he should be saying. So silence fills the space instead. 

Doubling. Tripling. Expanding like foam and smoothing over crevices as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. 

And he knows he should just ask again. 

Softer. Maybe with a bit more emotion. Counting in his head. One. Two, fucking Three. 

Your body turning, holding out a mug you got him—big, black with tiny ghosts on it. Because you’d pestered and pestered to know what he was called. What his alias is when he shoots people. The mug made you grin when you handed it to him last time—tired of him taking your favourite. The one with a quote from a television show you keep promising to show him. Sarcastic. Almost makes his teeth show when he smiles. He almost does the same when he takes the mug, and you turn away from him. 

Now when he takes it, your eyes drop to the floor. To the space between the two of you.

The one which feels vast, and far larger than the bar ever felt.  

All Simon wonders is why there’s a pit opening inside of him—why it is filling him with a feeling he wants to cut out of himself. It’s not light or nice, it’s dark and twisty. 

Because he’s the same person who goes on stupid solo missions where the percentage of survival is low, and still fucking comes back to base with whatever was asked of him. He’s Ghost—a man who many fear. Who is often coated in more of other people’s blood than he is dirt. 

And yet this—

You.

Terrify the living fuck out of him. Not that he’s showing that. He knows he’s stood with a stiff back, and a face devoid of any emotions. 

“You said it when we first… Just… I know your job is important. I know you can’t commit and I respect—”

“Sweetheart.”

Your eyes meet his. Teeth biting your lip, arms crossing over your chest.  

And shit, he hopes to never see this face ever again. This nervous, unsure face that he’s put there. One which complicates everything and pulls on every string inside of him. 

You are an enigma, and he’s not even sure you know it. 

You’re something he never deserves, something he never thought he’d have, get, or keep. 

Yet, here you are. 

Someone who has seen every inch of him. Knows what he does. Where he goes. You even know brief moments of his past, the parts of him that he’d rather take to the grave. 

You are important. You matter. 

He’s falling—free-falling, in fact—and has been for a while, he didn’t even acknowledge it. Pushing it down, letting it sit with all the other things he doesn’t want to deal with. 

“Do’ya wanna go out with me tonight?” 

Each word hits you, strokes you. He watches as each syllable lands, your eyes reading him. 

“You back for long, Simon?”

His lips twitch. “Little bit.”

And then you smile. All devious and cunning, lips twisting as you unfold your arms and adjust your stance. “I think I’d prefer a takeaway. Keep you to myself, while I 'ave you.” 

Standing, crossing the small space of your kitchen as he cages you in. Your hand clutching his cheek, soft, gentle, and more than he fucking deserves. 

His head lowers, lips close to your ear as you curl your body into him as he whispers, all gruff and quiet so only you—and not a fly or spirit could hear—says, “I’ve always been just yours, sweetheart.”

Simon doesn't expect a response. More a kiss. Maybe even a roll of your hips.

It's why he doesn't expect the words, "I'd hoped so", or the way they make him feel like he's walking on air.

[messrmoonyy]

Road trip

Tess Servopoulos x Reader

Request- hear me out messr please. Reader along for the ride with Tess Joel and Ellie looking for fireflies. One night they’re holed up in some random house somewhere and Tess and reader need so relief. And they get busyyyyyyy but have to be quiet because Joel and Ellie might hear them. Tess with her hand on your mouth and fucking you and trapping her moans in your mouth🤤🤤 PLEASE

A/n- ngl. I’ve rewritten it twice. And I still don’t particularly like it allll that much. But I promised you guys these smutober posts and now it’s November so I’m v v sorry. But here’s the last smutober post. Enjoy. Smuts on the shorter side but it felt fitting for the scene!

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: 18+ | smut- fingering ( r receiving)

Navigation | AO3 | Tess masterlist

“ I’m starving “ Ellie complained for what felt like the millionth time, dragging out her words and dramatically slumping over as she walked with a groan. It made a smile tug at your lips as you watched her in amusement, a glance over at Tess showing she had the same look on her face.

That only made you smile more. Tess had grown an incredibly soft spot for the kid over the months. In fact she’d had a soft spot for her from the very beginning. If it hadn’t have been for her none of you would even be stood where you were now.

Wherever there was.

“ where even are we? “ Ellie asked, hanging back from Joel a little to then look up at you and Tess. As if reading your mind.

“ oh somewhere in Iowa I think. Joel? “

“ Iowa “ he confirmed from the front of the group “ keep up “ Jackson felt forever away, you were all putting in long long days of walking. Taking longer routes to avoid big cities, traipsing through back roads and woodland. You had suggested trying to find a car. Joel hadn’t even given you an answer to that, just one of his looks that said ‘ are you fucking with me right now? ‘

You knew it’d be damn near impossible to find one that still worked but you’d suggest anything to get a break from all that damn walking.

“ you ever been to Iowa? “ Ellie asked, kicking a rock along the ground as she walked beside you. The poor kid looked exhausted. Sometimes you forgot how young she was.

“ no. I never really did any travelling until the world ended. And if I had I don’t think Iowa would’ve been at the top of my list “ you said with a laugh and she nodded, but yawned before she could say anything else. You sighed and placed a gentle hand to her shoulder “ you wanna stop kid? “ she glanced over at where Joel had stopped walking and tried to straighten her self out a little more.

“ I’m not even tired “ you sighed again and rolled your eyes. She seemed hell bent on impressing Joel. Like she had some need to prove to him that she was much stronger than she looked, that she could handle herself. She seemed to forget she was just a kid. And an entire day of walking, plus the fact that she was hungry? It was time to stop.

“ Joel lemme see that map “ Tess piped up, beckoning for it with her fingers before just taking the map from him before he could even agree to it.

“ we still got at least another hour of light we should keep- “

“ I’m tired too “ you interrupted. In truth you thought maybe you could hack another hour or so before you dropped. You were exhausted but you could keep going if you had to. But Ellie couldn’t and two voices were better than one. Ellie needed to sleep. Even if she refused to admit it to Joel herself. Tess glanced over at you, a slight warm look in her eyes as she realised why you had said it.

You were seeing that warmth a little more the longer she was around Ellie. A warmth she’d buried for so long, that only you got to really see, finally being pulled up to the surface.

Some deep rooted motherly instinct to protect this scrappy little kid that was now in your care. Ellie was making her soft. And maybe you too.

“ there’s a small town about a mile that way “ she said and nodded in the direction of the town “ I doubt there’d be any infected we’re in the middle of fuckin nowhere. And it’s so small it’s barely even a town… head into one of the neighbourhoods on the outskirts. Bunk down in one of the houses for the night. Set off early again tomorrow morning “ Joel gave a small sigh before glancing at Ellie and nodding.

“ alright. Let’s go “ you pretended not to catch the look of relief that flashed across Ellie’s face as you ushered her to walk in front of you. Joel led the way and Tess fell into position next to you at the back. She looked tired too. Everyone was fucking tired, you’d like to bet Joel was too. He was just stubborn as fuck about… well everything. But then again, so was Tess. Trying to get either of them to rest for the entire journey had been a mission in itself.

“ this means we can eat soon right? “ you chuckled and nodded

“ we have some of those tins of ravioli you like. Oh and I have some rabbit left over, you can have mine if you want “ she looked quite pleased with that knowledge and seemed to walk a little faster.

“ did you eat today? “ Tess said quietly by your side as Ellie caught up with Joel, ready to hit him with a million and one questions now “ I didn’t see you have anything this mornin and you’re giving Ellie the meat… “ you shrugged and rubbed at your temples lightly, a headache settling itself in. You were tired and tense and hungry. And now the thought of stopping for the day was fully in your mind, you were realising just how tense every single muscle in your body was. Maybe you couldn’t have made it another hour or two.

“ I’ll eat when we stop “ you said and gave her a soft smile as if that would make her believe you more.

In truth your hunger wasn’t the worst thing. It was the fact that you were getting a little homesick.

That shitty Boston apartment and your equally as shitty bed. It was barely big enough to fit the two of you in, was propped up on one side with bricks, but you kinda liked that because it meant you had to sleep wrapped up in Tess’ arms each night. The QZ wasn’t exactly stress free but it was a lot less taxing than traipsing across the country with a kid.

You’d deal with FEDRA fucks and wannabe smugglers over hunters and slavers any day. You missed walking around the QZ with some air of power with Tess, then going back home and spending the evening de stressing from the day with her. The comfortable silence as you counted cards, getting her to lift the two floorboards in the back corner behind the couch to stash your pills. Letting her ease your aching body after particularly stressful days, easing away the ache of bruises with her lips and her fingers.

It had been weeks since you’d had any form of… de stressing with Tess. Of any kind. But particularly the latter.

And the last time hadn’t exactly been anything to shout about either. Needing to have it over and done with as fast as possible before Joel wondered why you’d both been out hunting so long. You’d only just about lost the bruises on your back from where she’d pushed you up against the closest tree the second she deemed you both far enough away from Joel and Ellie’s earshot.

It wasn’t exactly special or even particularly comfortable. It had felt dirty and obscene, to have her fucking you out in the open like that. But you’d gladly take the opportunity again. The things you would do to be back there again, her hand down the front of your jeans and her lips on your neck. Or better yet back in Boston and your shitty apartment, to feel her hands on you. Or her mouth. Or both.

Yeah. Both.

That would definitely ease your achy muscles.

“ sweetheart? “ you glanced over at her and she chuckled at the clearly evident look of confusion on your face

“ huh? “

“ you okay? We’re almost there you need to focus, yeah? “

“ yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I’m focussed. Sorry “ you pushed away the thoughts of your girlfriends skilful hands and mouth, and grabbed your gun from where it was strapped to your thigh.

You could see the small neighbourhood you were heading into at the bottom of the hill, it looked empty. But you could never be too sure In the current climate.

You felt the air shift between your group, everyone preparing for the worst in case there were people lurking in the town. Sticking close to the tree line and keeping your eyes on the windows. The high spots. Looking for any sign of a face or a gun.

“ stay close Ellie “ Tess said in a low voice, the girl instantly moving behind you. You, Joel and Tess were a well oiled machine by that point. It was only natural after so many years as a team. You could anticipate each others moves and thoughts, silently communicate with simple looks. It worked well.

The town seemed abandoned. Most of the buildings collapsing in on themselves, windows smashed and the roof tiles missing. There were one or two in the close vicinity that seemed a little more structurally stable. Joel headed for the one closest pointing for you and Tess to take the back whilst he went for the front.

Ellie stuck close to Tess as you made your way towards the back door, trying the handle to find it unlocked. That was a good sign. You opened it and stepped inside, no noise traps. No actual traps. All good signs.

You cleared the downstairs pretty quickly, finding no one there. In fact it seemed as though no one had been there for years. Thick layers of dust only now disturbed by your boots, the feeling of just… emptiness.

Joel returned from clearing the upstairs and gave a small nod.

“ clear “

You all made your way into the garage, silently agreeing that it was the safest spot to sleep. One door into the house and the garage door that nobody could possibly open silently enough not to alarm anyone.

Joel and Tess found one mattress upstairs that wasn’t completely rotten, placing it in the middle for Ellie. You, Tess and Joel opted for the floor. Using the thin blankets you’d taken from Henry and Sams packs back in Pittsburgh. You were almost used to laying on the hard ground now. So you didn’t really even mind. And Tess’ body warmth was enough to chase the chill away.

Ellie devoured the rabbit and her tin of ravioli, scraping out every last drop of sauce she could and still not looking entirely satisfied. You attempted to offer her the rest of yours but Tess stopped you before you could even say the first word in your sentence, placing her hand on yours to keep you in place. And then offering the kid her own.

“ Ellie. Here “

“ it’s okay I’m- “

“ take it. It’s fine “ she took it sheepishly and whispered a thank you before devouring that too. You placed yours into her hands then “ you need- “

“ we can share “ Tess was stubborn but so were you. And Tess sighed with a nod, taking the fork from you and having a bite. Passing the fork back and forth until the tin was empty. You still weren’t particularly full. But you were used to that too.

Ellie passed out ridiculously fast, making you smile at how at ease she looked even in the current circumstances. Joel disappeared briefly back into the house, sounds of broken glass scattering on the floor before returning. He barricaded the door leading back into the house before turning his back to you all, laying down facing the door with a grumbled goodnight.

You chose a spot in the opposite corner of the room to sleep, always feeling safer when no one could sneak up behind you. You felt safer than you had for the majority of the journey, the singular door out blocked. The windows on the garage door too small to fit anyone through. You could all hopefully get some decent sleep.

You settled under the blanket as Tess unlaced her boots slightly. She never took them off now, in case you needed to make a quick escape. Just loosened the laces. You looked over at Ellie fast asleep on the mattress and silently wished there had been another one to use, the concrete of the floor not exactly comfortable. But still, you were all safe as could be. That was all that mattered really.

Tess scooted down behind you, pulling you back against her chest and sliding her arms around you. So she could keep you close and warm, a deep sigh leaving her and tickling the back of your neck. She’d bundled up her jacket to use as some kind of pillow for you, but she also nudged her arm under your head to keep you off the concrete as much as possible.

“ you doing okay? “ she asked quietly, pressing her face to the back of your neck

“ I’m okay “

“ really? you’re so tense “ Tess said quietly, her fingers tracing up and down your side lightly “ you have been all day “

“ my muscles hurt “ you confessed in a whisper as not to wake up Joel or Ellie “ my whole body hurts “

“ oh sweetheart “ she sighed, kissing the back of your neck softly “ you need to relax “ she murmured against your ear, her lips brushing against your skin and her warm breath making goosebumps rise “ I can help you relax “

Her fingers pressed harder, pushing at your aching muscles through your clothes in a way that actually did offer a small amount of relief.

“ good? “ you hummed an answer, pretty sure you could fall asleep like that. Close your eyes and think hard enough to pretend you were back in Boston, that she was easing the pain after a long day on one of the food depot shifts. Lifting and hauling boxes all day, always going home after that assignment feeling like you’d been hit by a truck.

More often than not it ended with her wandering hands making you come over and over again, because according to her it was the best cure for aching muscles. You didn’t know if you entirely believed her logic, but you weren’t exactly going to complain about it.

Her fingers slipped under your sweater and you shivered at the coldness of her touch, but soon let out a soft sigh as she moved upwards. She unashamedly groped at your chest through the material of your bra, a small involuntary whimper escaping your lips.

“ maybe helping me to relax at the same time “ she mumbled, making a smile tug at your lips. You felt her let out a steady sigh, the warm air tickling your neck. Joel shuffled slightly in his sleep and your froze but Tess didn’t stop “ s’okay he’s still asleep “

You wondered just how desperate she was for you to the fact that she had so little fear at being caught. It made your face flush with heat and your back arch involuntarily against her. Her hand immediately left its position under your sweater and flew to your hip, pulling you back against her and squeezing.

“ I wish you could fuck me “ you whispered in practically one breath, horniness starting to cloud your better judgement

“ yeah? “ her voice was that low, sultry tone that felt like warm caramel. Slow and drawn out, warmth flowing over your despite the cold “ missing mommy’s cock baby? “ a whimper slipped past your lips without your permission again, your eyes darting to Ellie and Joel in fear you’d been too loud. Of course you hadn’t. And both of them remained fast asleep

“ Tess- “ you cut yourself off as her hand danced along the waist band of your jeans, pressing soft kisses to your neck. You felt your skin prickle, immediately knowing what she wanted to do. The cold of the concrete no longer affecting you. And as much as you wanted it, you knew you couldn’t. Not there.

“ we can’t “

“ we can. Just be quiet “ you could hear the smile in her voice, feel it against your skin as she wasted no time and carefully undid the button of your jeans, one handed and skilful in a way you hadn’t quite mastered yet, still pressing those soft wet kisses to your neck.

“ Tess… “

“ stay quiet yeah? “ she whispered as she pressed the palm of her hand against your underwear, making your breath hitch at the pressure. Her finger traced along your slit through the materiel. You felt her smile against your neck as she slipped her way past the cotton restraints, noting that as much as she clearly wanted to do it she also didn’t want to waste any time.

So she was quick with moving her finger between your folds, breath stuttering as you tried to remain quiet and calm. As much as you’d said only a second ago that you couldn’t do it, you found yourself moving your leg to let her have better access. It only made her smile more “ thought you said we can’t do it?” She murmured softly, some mixture of smugness and amusement in her tone.

“ shut up “ honestly though it was you that needed to shut up, gasping a little too loudly when her fingers applied a little more pressure.

Maybe it was a good thing that she clearly needed it over with quickly, because you weren’t confident in your ability to be silent. At all. In fact it was a running joke with her and Joel that you were notoriously bad at being quiet. Joel had complained so many times that he could hear you through the walls. Mostly that just encouraged Tess to make you be ten times louder though.

But thankfully for you- and probably Joel too- you were both in no situation to be loud or draw things out tonight. And she knew your body better than you, so as much as she was able to draw it out for hours. She could also have it over in minutes.

You gasped when her fingers circled your clit, slightly embarrassed by how wet her fingers felt after barely a minute of touching you. You got turned in ridiculously fast “ shh shhh be a good girl nice and quiet. Nice and quiet for me “ she urged, voice still silky and soft.

“ I’ve been thinking about this for so long “ you whispered, eyes falling closed as you focussed on the skilful movement of her fingers. Working at you expertly even within the tricky confides of your unbuttoned jeans.

“ is that where you keep going when you zone out? “ she asked with a small laugh. Maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought you were. At least no one knew what you were actually thinking. The last thing you needed was someone in your head seeing all the filthy things you daydreamed about Tess doing to you…

“ maybe “ she laughed again, but it soon fell into a slightly frustrated sigh.

“ the second we reach Jackson we are finding a bed “ she mumbled, shifting around behind you and seemingly trying to reposition her hand to be more comfortable “ or. Anywhere that I can actually get your fuckin naked “

“ hmm that’d be nic- Tess “ you gasped her name as finally seemed to get her hand into a position that she could get into the perfect spot. The perfect rhythm.

“ there we go “ she picked up the speed, lips attacking your neck at the same time in a utterly dizzying combination. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth to try stifle any sound that wanted to escape. You were hyper sensitive to every sound. Like somehow your heavy breaths would wake Joel and Ellie , or rustle of the blanket. As if he wasn’t half deaf and Ellie slept like a log.

But somehow that element of fear was twisting into something different, some burning hot type of adrenaline pricking over your skin. Paired with the way Tess was working at your desperate, throbbing clit? You were a goner, already feeling the pressure building and it had barely been a few minutes.

“ you know what else I can’t wait for in Jackson? Hm? I cant wait to hear your pretty sounds again “ you whimpered at the thought. Remembering every filthy word Tess liked to say to you to make you moan, how she would have the smuggest look on her face with every whimper and whine. Showering you in praise for every little noise that passed your lips “ you always sound so pretty for me don’t you baby? “

Your mind replayed as many memories of those times in your head as it could, memories of her words. Her body. God you wanted to see her body again. Wanted to touch her and feel her skin pressing against your own in as many spots as humanly possible. You wanted to bury your face between her legs and never ever leave, make up for lost time and have her make it right back up to you too.

The thought of that, paired with her fingers and lips nipping at your neck, was enough to topple you over the edge.

You trapped her hand between your legs, focusing on trying to stay quiet, shuddering breaths hidden by the thin blanket pulled up to your mouth. You were never more thankful for Joel’s busted ear.

You turned your head, looping your arm around to pull her lips onto yours, not so confident in your ability to remain quiet as you finished. And even with Joel’s shitty hearing and the blanket.

She had the worlds smuggest smile as you moaned softly into her mouth, keeping her hand between your legs as your orgasm washed over you in a draining wave.

It zapped every single last drop of energy you had left in your body, muscles like jelly as you let her go. And in her defence. You were certainly less tense than you had been before.

“ thank you “ you mumbled, eyelids heavy as you tried to not immediately give in to sleep. Tess chuckled slightly and kissed your cheek, withdrawing her hand from your jeans.

“ thanking me for sex now? You really are tired “ you hummed some attempt at an answer and she laughed again, holding you tightly against her “ go to sleep “

“ I owe you one “ Tess smiled and pressed another kiss to your cheek

“ you sure do “

[fdelopera]

Exposing an Antisemitic Conspiracy Theory from TikTok

If I see one more Jew-hating idiot with TikTok brainrot saying shit like, "the Palestinians are descended from the ancient Philistines from the Bible lolol"...

You Jew-haters are exhaustingly stupid. And in this post, I'm going to show you why.

As I said in my post yesterday, there are some really bad actors (both in the conspiracy sense, and in the literal "drama" sense) on TikTok who are trying to erase Jewish history by spreading conspiracy theories that somehow Philistines and Palestinians are "the same".

These idiots are doing this so they can claim that "Jesus was a Palestinian/Philistine."

It gives me a headache even to write something as stupid as that.

No, ya dumb-dumbs. Jesus was not a Philistine. Jesus was a Judaean Jew. He was from Bethlehem. In Judaea.

You know, Judaea. The place where the Jews are from.

It is actually really offensive to a lot of Christians to claim that "Jesus was a Philistine" like this. If you've never read the Bible (and I'm guessing none of these TikTokers have), calling someone a "Philistine" is an insult. In common use, it means an uncultured or crass person.

In Hebrew, the word for Philistine is "Peleshet (Plishtim, plural)". It is related to the Hebrew word, "Polesh". Polesh in Hebrew means "invader".

So by calling Jesus a Philistine, you're calling him an uncultured invader.

And I am here, as a Jew, telling you to stop insulting Jesus like this!

.

Now, saying "Jesus was the same as modern day Palestinians" is also unhistorical.

The region was called Judaea when Jesus was alive. So he was a Judaean Jew.

It would be just as unhistorical to say, "Jesus was a modern-day Israeli".

.

So, why are antisemites spouting this bullshit?

Unfortunately, these Jew-haters think they're "protecting" the Arab Palestinians by spreading conspiracy theories and lies about Jewish history.

They think they're making a "case" for Arab Palestinian indigeneity in Judea by telling these lies.

Because Arabs aren't indigenous to Judea.

And let me tell you, Tumblrinies who went to the Tumblr school of world history are even trying to rewrite Arab history! Some of them have even tried to tell me, "but Canaanites were Arabs lolol!"

Do you want me to show you a map?? No, dumb-dumbs. Canaanites were NOT Arabs. Canaanites are the ancestors of the Jewish People. Not the ancestors of Arabs.

Arabs come from the Arabian Peninsula.

OMG do you guys not even study geography anymore??

These Jew-hating idiots are literally willing to try to rewrite the history of the Arabian Peninsula just so they can fuck with Jewish people. You antisemites are absolutely unhinged!!

.

Okay, deep breath.

.

Here's the other thing. Our educational system is broken. And people don't study history (clearly).

Because if they did study history, they would realize that attaching Jesus to the Philistines doesn't confer ANY indigeneity to the Palestinian people.

(G-d, you conspiracy theory idiots are so dumb!!)

Because, you see, the Philistines were GREEK!!

They weren't indigenous to the Levant AT ALL!!

So in claiming that the Palestinians are the "same as" the Philistines, you have actually WEAKENED the case for Palestinian indigeneity!

And none of this matters!

YES, the Jewish people ARE indigenous to Judea.

And NO the Palestinian Arabs are NOT.

BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER.

IT DOESN'T MATTER THAT ARABS ARE NOT INDIGENOUS TO JUDEA.

BECAUSE THE PALESTINIAN PEOPLE DESERVE HUMAN RIGHTS AND SELF-DETERMINATION NO MATTER WHAT!!!

Do you see what spreading conspiracy theories and lies about Jewish history does? All it does is make you look like FOOLS, and it HURTS the Palestinian people!!!

And YES, these conspiracy theories mainly hurt Jews. But I know y'all don't give a single SHIT about Jews. You've proven to us just how antisemitic you are.

So PLEASE for the LOVE OF G-D, STOP spreading these fucking LIES, BECAUSE THEY HURT PALESTINIANS TOO!!

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Okay. Deep breath. Some history.

The Philistines were ancient Bronze Age Mycenaeans, aka they were Greeks. The Torah is consistent with this. It records them as being from Crete, which during the Late Bronze Age was under Mycenaean control. They also had some genetic admixture from Southern Italy. We know this both from DNA evidence from their skeletons, and also from their pottery, which looks similar to Mycenaean Bronze Age pottery.

And regardless, Israel and Jerusalem are both in the archeological record, and in Egyptian records, LONG BEFORE the Greek Philistine people appeared in Egyptian records. The ancestors of the Jewish people were there long before the Philistines arrived.

And you would know all this if you STUDY JEWISH HISTORY! Here's my Jewish history masterpost. I recommend that everyone read it.

The Philistines were invaders in Canaan, and they clashed often with the native Canaanites, which are the people that Jewish people are descended from. Jews ARE Canaanites. Read my post here on Jewish origins.

The cultural memory of these clashes is recorded in the story of David and Goliath in the Bible. The Israelite David felled the much larger Philistine Goliath with a slingshot, and then chopped off Goliath's head with his own iron sword.

The Greek Philistines were a small people group living in Judea. The last of the Philistines in Judea were slaughtered in 604 BCE by the army of Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar II when he besieged Jerusalem. This is the same siege that resulted in the Babylonian Exile of the Jewish people. Nebuchadnezzar dragged many of the Judeans (the Jewish population) as captives to Babylon (modern day Iraq). Then in 586 BCE, Nebuchadnezzar destroyed the First Jewish Temple and dragged many more of the Jews into captivity in Babylon.

In 539 BCE, the Persian King Cyrus the Great defeated the Babylonians in battle, and in 538 BCE, the Persians allowed the Jews to return to Judea. The Jews came back to Jerusalem to build the Second Temple on the site where the First Temple had stood, which they completed in 515 BCE. But when the Jews returned, they found that the Greek Philistine community had been decimated by the Babylonians.

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So, where did the Philistines come from?

As I stated above, the name "Philistine" is a Greek version of the Hebrew word Peleshet, and the Peleshet were likely the same as the Mycenaean Greek Peleset tribe known to Egypt. The Greek Peleset tribe were part of a people group that are today called the "Sea Peoples."

At the end of the Bronze Age (aka the Late Bronze Age Collapse), the known world was going through a period of terrible drought, famine, and earthquakes. Various people groups from areas that are now part of Italy and Greece, including the Greek Peleset tribe, formed a rough confederation and went around to various cities, sacking and plundering the cities for resources. In 1175 BCE, the Sea Peoples invaded Egypt, and King Ramesses III defeated them in battle. He commemorated their defeat on a wall of his mortuary temple at Medinet Habu.

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So why is Palestine called Palestine, a name that does derive from the name Philistine?

To find out, you have to fast forward from around 604 BCE (when the Babylonians wiped out the last of the Greek Philistine people) to around 135 CE to get to the next time that the name of the "Philistines" becomes important.

That's a span of around 740 YEARS!

At that point, the Second Temple in Jerusalem had already been destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE. The Romans were doing ethnic cleansing on the Jews in Judaea, after the Jews tried to get Jerusalem back from Roman control in the Bar Kochba revolt (132 - 135 CE).

After the Roman Empire defeated the Jews in Judaea and squashed the Bar Kochba Revolt in 135 CE, the Romans RENAMED the region Syria-Palaestina. It was a vain attempt to remove the Jewish presence in the region. The Romans literally tried to wipe the Jews "off the map."

Guess what, motherfuckers! It didn't work. Jews came back to the region not long after.

The Romans named the region after the GREEK Peleshet/Philistines (who, again, by then were LONG GONE).

So the name "Syria-Palaestina" is basically the Romans trying to erase Jewish identity. Which again, DIDN'T WORK.

WE JEWS ARE STILL HERE.

So tl;dr "Palestine" is NOT the same as the Greek Philistines/Peleshet.

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The Romans just went through the Hebrew Bible and looked for a name they could call the region that would be painful to the Jewish people. So they named the region after one of the Jewish people's Biblical rivals.

Philistia was also a name that was in use in the Greek world because, again, the Philistines were ancient Greeks.

But there's no actual connection between the region called "Syria-Palaestina" and the Greek people group called the Philistines.

This is why (let's say it all together kids) you need to LEARN JEWISH HISTORY!

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And here's the worst part of this conspiracy theory.

Again, I know why Jew-haters tell this lie. And by now, so do you.

Jew-haters say this shit in a completely misguided attempt to "protect" the Palestinian people.

But, let's say it all together, the Palestinian people don't need to be backed by LIES in order to defend their human rights and their right to self-determination!

The Palestinian people DESERVE PROTECTION. THEY DESERVE TO HAVE FULL HUMAN RIGHTS.

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THIS IS NOT A ZERO-SUM GAME, with one "winner" and one "loser."

YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL LIES ABOUT JEWISH HISTORY TO DEFEND THE PALESTINIAN PEOPLE.

Jews and Palestinians are not "pawns" for you Jew-haters to use in your pretend game of war. You're acting like you're in some sort of video game fantasy.

JEWS AND PALESTINIANS ARE NOT YOUR PLAYTHINGS!

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If you tell lies about Jewish history in a stupid attempt to "defend" the Palestinian people, you're not helping them at all. You're just being an antisemitic bigot steeped in Jew-hatred.

And taken to its extreme, the real conclusion of your antisemitic LIE is actually a really weird, unhinged blasphemy against the Prophet Muhammad!!

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So if you ACTUALLY want to HELP the Palestinian people, and not just be a Jew-hating bigot, I would recommend that you put your money where your mouth is.

Stop telling easily disprovable LIES about Jewish history, and start donating to organizations and charities that are helping Palestinians. The organizations that I recommend are:

ANERA

Palestine Children's Relief Fund

Doctors Without Borders

Standing Together

[felassan]

Some DA facts collected together, from recent tweets -

GhilDirthalen: "the frostbite engine didn’t do ending slides, so the slides you see in DAI are actually paintings that quickly spawn in your bed room. You can zoom out during the end with fly cam" John Epler: "i remember when we were trying to do these and we're like 'hey can we display still images' and the answer was 'uhh it's a lot more complicated than you think' so this was the solution. i set up all the cameras, and I THINK level design handled all the scripting logic" JE: "anyways videogames are basically held together by magic and hope and it's a legitimate miracle anytime one gets finished"

JE: "When you 'sprint' on a horse in DAI it doesn't really do much because frostbite couldn't stream in levels fast enough, so we just added speed lines and changed the camera so it felt faster. JE: "i've carried the guilt of this for years. guilt is an ocean, and i'm tired of drowning." "feels like I just murdered Santa Claus in front of many of you" [source], "feels like i just declassified Area 51" [source]. "i'm just glad the truth is finally out there" [source] Seb Hanlon: "ME1 did it first" JE: "just to be SUPER clear, riding a horse is faster than being on-foot, but the difference between normal horse run and horse 'sprint' is non-existent except for making it look faster". "the base horse speed is faster than unhorsed run speed, but horse sprint doesn’t move you faster than normal horse speed" [source] JE: "there were three days on that project where my entire job was ‘try to make horse sprint feel faster’" User: "I swear to god John I knew it, I fucking knew it, none of the mounts have different speeds, either?" JE: "i actually don't know the answer to that one, i just set up the gameplay cameras and did what what i was told." Seb: "but they have different sounds /screams in Red Hart" JE: "no one believed that's what a Red Hart really sounds like but they are fucked up animals."

Seb: "The save system in DAI loads with all doors in the area closed. This is a problem if there’s a door between you and a party member when the save happens, because they can’t open doors. If they can’t path to you, they get teleported to join you before the fade-up from black." Seb: "This “system” was rigged entirely in Frostbite Schematic logic quite late in development once we realized it was a problem." JE: "i vaguely remember that the first time we really saw this problem was when we were putting together the Redcliffe demo for... whatever event we showed Redcliffe at." Seb: "Yeah I think that was the map I tested the teleport-fallback in. Dorian was there in those saves for sure?" JE: "yeah 100%. it was when you first end up in the future and you're fighting your way to the locked-up followers. i think we were playing it in Hanged Man or Neverwinter and we discovered 'oh shit our followers can't get to you'"

Seb: "Zither’s first-pass ability icons originally echoed a broad swath of iconic album art. The UI art team made me so happy. Why didn’t it ship? Ain’t nobody chasing down those IP clearances for an April Fools DLC."

JE: "in DA2 Mark of the Assassin, if you let Baron Arlange live after the first encounter with him, he shows up very deep in the background of several scenes, creeping on Hawke and the party around stalagmites and around corners." "no one asked for this but i put it in as a little treat because i thought it was very funny. i still do. oh the scene where you get captured in the vault by Prosper and his guards, that's the same 5 (6?) guards just cycled through multiple times." [source, two]

JE: "i've told this story before but the reason Iron Bull's romance scene takes place in a separate tower is because the mocap for everyone walking in on you assumed that there was a doorway, and the player's bedroom ended up having stairs. so we moved the scene to the Sex Tower"

Seb: "DAI: To enable party followers’ AI to use their defensive abilities (dodge/block/parries), enemies spawn a “telegraph volume” as part of their ability wind-ups. This tells the party AI what kind of reaction it can use to counter (if it’s not on cooldown and it can branch in time)." "“Parry” telegraphs are the ‘weakest’ (can activate block, dodge, or parry abilities); “dodge” telegraphs are the ‘strongest’ (dodge or get fucked). There’s an all-abilities AI cooldown on these responses; before this was added, I saw Cass perfect block for minutes at a time." [source]

Seb: "the Qunari Ashaad in Trespasser is the only combat creature I personally implemented; and the only one intentionally plays both ranged and melee. and it was great fun watching play-testers climb a ladder to close and shut down his range attack—and get kicked off by the sweep"

Seb: "I’m still personally pleased that the Red Templar faction in DAI has such a strong overarching principle: “power corrupts”. The more elite the creature, the less human they are."

Seb: "Both the Children in DAO Awakening and the Harvester in DAO hide their extra body parts *inside* their torso mesh before they appear."

Seb: "Varric in DA2 is the most specialest snowflake; he’s not like any other dwarf because his rig includes all the Bianca animation bones."

Seb: "DAI’s Emerald Graves was the map where we hammered out the conceptual balance of using abilities based on the enemy composition and position."

Seb: "There’s an animation-driven movement mode in DAI that’s only used by a handful of large creatures; the dragon and the Red Templar Behemoth are the ones I remember."

Seb: "“making two combat creatures at melee range face, and not slide past, each other when they’re playing attack animations” took a surprising amount of problem solving on DAI; most of the basic-attack animations have both moving and standing variations for this reason."

Seb: "30 seconds of good combat gameplay takes more-or-less the same development effort as 10 minutes of good combat gameplay. Which is more than you’d think. IYKYK."

Seb: "The original concept for the Grand Fear Demon at the end of DAI’s Fade was a “level boss” - instead of a single big combat creature (like a dragon), the idea was it was so big it would attack out of the darkness with “limbs” (creatures) that shared a health pool. Cut for scope."

Seb: "The core combat ability animation/effects/branching system in DAI is called “CSM”, for “combat state machine”. It’s the third generation spiritual successor to the first system called CSM that I worked on, built for a project called Revolver…"

Seb: "The “impassable” purple fire zones in Trespasser were a tremendous pain in the ass, because both: - making them do enough damage fast enough to be a lock-and-key for invincibility powers as intended - keeping party members from following you in and getting bug-zappered" User: "I hate to tell you this but my first time through, I was determined to get through and I did not know that invincibility powers were literally down the stairs so I spent 10 minutes and eventually managed to get through with some mage shenanigans" Seb: "by the time we got to trespasser there were so many abilities you MIGHT have that MIGHT JUST get you through that we gave it our best shot and said “good enough”" User: "I died at that thing SO MANY TIMES until I realized there was an invincibility boost, lol" Seb: "clearly signaling “THIS IS A THING YOU WILL DO LATER” without saying it, especially if it’s a mechanical systems thing, can be surprisingly difficult"

Seb: "during development on DAI someone made a staff that, when used (hit the ground with the butt animation) spawned a bunch of nugs that ran off in all directions. for checking pathmesh bounds, obvs"

[sycamorality]

a collection of all the weird things that have happened to me in my life, since one of my friends said i should make one

one of my ex-friends [they cut me off bc i rightfully called out how sus it was that they went from 0 rares to a blue headdress and multiple long collars in a day] just up and vanished one day. i knew them from animal jam. they had a youtube channel and were semi-popular. i was in one of their videos, one of those animal jam adventures we played together. there were rumours they died to some illness but nothing concrete ever came out of that, but two months after that everything of their online presence disappeared. one of my friends made a video on them and their passing out of respect, but that video is gone too despite them never deleting it. we both know they existed, but none of us can find anything on them. everyone else's videos are gone too. everything about them is just gone as if they never existed

this isn't the only friend this has happened to. i've had four other friends just suddenly disappear, every trace of them existing just completely gone. typically every trace of them just disappears after 2 weeks, 2 months, or 2 weeks and 2 months. one friend was mid 2018, another friend in 2017, one in november 2019, another somewhere in early 2021, and another aj friend early 2017

this isnt as weird as everything else but we once took a picture and i saw a shiny object on it and reached down to pick it up just moments after the picture was taken but it was gone. there was only an imprint of it and it was nowhere. nobody had reached down to pick it up before me, and nobody else was around. this isnt the only object this has happened to either.

i found a human pelvis on a beach once. i am the only one that remembers this happened despite me showing both of my parents. they have no recollection of this

this didnt happen to me but it is regarding me. my mom once heard me calling for her in my room - she's in the living room sitting by the computer desk, my room is right behind the wall the computer desk is by. she answers and i don't answer back. one thing is for certain though - this was not an audiotory hallucination. she then realized that i was not home because i was in kindergarten. rightfully she was freaked the fuck out and didn't move for an hour or two

here's another story from my mom because i think its fun to include: she once heard the sounds of my dad coming home. opening the door, stepping inside, putting his shoes on the shoerrack, walking slightly into the hallway, and then all the sounds stopped. she's confused and checks the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom because those are the only three rooms he could've walked into. he's in neither of them. she's weirded out but brushes it off for a while until he comes home and makes the exact same sounds that she heard earlier that day. how interesting!

we used to have teaspoons that had two lines at the end of the spoon. one day it changed to the lines being by the front of the spoon. i asked my mom about this when i was 7 and she said "we've always had those spoons?" looking at me as if i was talking nonsense to her. we also used to have a bunch of colorful spoons! but they're also completely gone now despite us never throwing them away. i know we used to have them because i broke a blue one by biting down on it too hard once. oops.

artistic rendition of the spoons:

could also swear we used to have yellow plates matching our other colored plates [as well as cups and forks, because we bought them in a set. The Spoons Included] but we. do not have any yellow plates. my parents have said we have never had yellow plates

i could swear by my entire life that korea, thailand, china, australia and many other countries are not where they're supposed to be. this is not because of different projections. none of the projections match up to the map i know.

we used to have an orange cat named charlie, he was a stray we took in. he had no interest in going back outside and he was a cuddlebug, enjoying the safety of being inside with people that love and care for him. one day when we came home, he was completely gone as if we never had him. we asked everyone nearby if they'd seen him, but everyone said no. we only have two pictures of him [despite us taking many more of him]. here's one of them!

there were two twins that lived across our house. they were pale, had black long hair, and usually wore white - or matching dresses. sounds like a horror movie description, i know, but they actually looked like that. one day during winter after snow had fallen we found out that, when we werent home, they stood in front of our backdoor [which was honestly better described as a big window door] and windows and just stared, because their footprints were there. terrifying!

there was this one time where- apparently an alternate universe or something kinda. overlapped. or swapped? me with an alternate me. my friend rain witnessed this and apparently i called it rainai and wasn't much of an artist from what i can gather, and didn't have the same ocs as i do here. that me was also more shy and definently not the same as i was at the time. this happened in 2019

our cats teleport. i once saw one of our cats, who i will call little shit, inside, eating from the food bowls. sounds and everything from her crunching on it when i got home. i went upstairs to set up my pc and then back downstairs to say hi to her and she was nowhere to be seen. i looked around everywhere and couldn't find her, so i dmed my dad and asked if she was inside and he resopnded that she was outside. i open the door and call for her an lo and behold guess who comes running and meowing. it was not our other cat, mama cat. i can tell their shapes apart so easily

my mom and i saw a witch flying on a broom with their cat once! a shadow silhouette unmistakable for a broom, with a human on the front and cat on the end. we both looked at eachother like "you just saw that right" and just nodded

i saw a big black thing flying by my window twice the size of a raven last yeah. i'm pretty sure that was dragon shaped. four limbs and then wings. i mentioned this once in a friend group server but the chatlogs of that are just completely gone(???)

my mom once showed me an article on how they confirmed alternate universes exist. it was genuine. apparently this exact article does not exist and i am the only person i know [save for my mom] that knows alternate universes were confirmed to exist. nobody else has ever heard anything about this

there was a red pencil sharpener i checked the kitchen counter for 7 times. it was not there. it very much was not there. nobody put it there. when i asked my mom after she walked into the kitche and infront of the counter it was suddenly there after she pointed towards it for me

i will update this with a reblog if i ever remember more because my memory is very selective for some reason