the-blue-marshmallow - Tumblr blog

[the-blue-marshmallow]

Like. Autism doesn't come with an automatic love of hearing anyone infodump about anything they love. In fact sometimes it comes with the opposite. Sometimes restricted interests are in fact restrictive enough to make anything else boring. Sometimes it's just hard to process that much speech. Doesn't mean we get to be unkind about it either but yeah. This fantasy people push of autistics having endless energy and appreciation for each other's special interests is just not realistic.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

[the-blue-marshmallow]

You can’t win as a woman in fiction. Be too positive, you become a Mary Sue, have flaws and those flaws are why almost nobody likes you. Be moderate, you have wet-cabbage personality, be exuberant, you are an unrealistic example. Have strong morals, and you’re badly developed, be morally corrupt and you’re hated with such vigour fans will send hate mail to the actress who plays the character. Be kind and soft and in love, you’re a representation of sexism, be cruel, harsh and cold and you’re just a bitch. Be a complex, realistic, ambiguous character, and either your flaws or your positive traits will be ignored or blown out of proportion and into oblivion. There is no winning for female characters.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

[the-blue-marshmallow]

[the-blue-marshmallow]

I am back on my bullshit! As a lovely person put it:

I see so many monsterfucker fics, this is the representation us monsterfluff supporters need.

So… come get your monsterfluff!!!!

~Corr

[the-blue-marshmallow]

Soap: Si! I found this really cool app that helping me with my impulse control issues and helps me to manage routines and all!

Ghost: that's nice. Is it for free?

Soap: there's a free version but it had a 50 percent off the full version deal for people just downloading the app so I bought it!

Ghost: and this app, it's to help you with impulse control, yes?

Soap: yes!

Soap, waking up in the middle of the night: wait a damn second--

~Moss

[the-blue-marshmallow]

New allies or new enemies (fools, all of them) assume when interacting with the 141 that Ghost is the unit’s attack dog. And those that get close enough to start reading into their team dynamic often assume that one Soap MacTavish must hold the leash, despite their difference in rank. After all, the Sergeant is the only one who seems to ever get close to the hulking Ghost, more monster than man. They assume this because they think someone has to. After all, a beast can’t keep himself on the lead.

But what they could never anticipate with their little pea brains is this - Ghost is in complete control. Sure, he postures, and he wears his mask, meant to ward off anyone who would even think of getting close. But the mask is as much of a target as it is a tool for his isolation. For every 10 men who steer clear, there’s one who picks a fight just cause he’s the biggest, scariest guy they’ve ever seen. And so he honestly has learned to keep his cool. To turn the other cheek. To know when it’s important to fight, and when it’s better to just let posturing idiots be posturing idiots.

Soap, however.

He’s young, and he’s strong, and he has a painfully endearing golden-retriever sense of justice. He has no idea how to back down when the fight isn't worth it, to him it's always worth it.

And the only one who he'll listen to, the only person on the planet who can call off his bite is Ghost. When Soap bristles at some rando bothering a girl in a bar, ready to start swinging, it's Ghost that steps in with a cool word instead, stopping the fight before it starts. It’s Ghost who puts a hand on Soap’s back when he can feel him tense, teeth barred, it’s Ghost who calls Soap back to the present with a quiet hey, not now. And miraculously, Soap listens.

He holds the lead. He always has.

And when people underestimate them, when they’re unprepared for Ghost’s patience and even less prepared for Soap’s bite, they feel the wrath of Ghost’s attack dog, let loose.

Ghost likes that he can call Johnny back in, but he likes letting him free even more.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

How a certain scot made Ghost be Simon for once.

Enjoy geography thoughts (cuz who needs to learn about terrorism right?(certainly not me))

Simon Riley, better known to the living world as Ghost, enjoys his personal space very much. it is his, one of the first and only things in life that are safe from anyone else, thst will never be taken away from him. 

Ghost is protective of his personal space.

 The mask, the gloves, the dark clothes that cover every inch of pale, scarred skin protect him from gazes. Because his personal space isn’t just half a meter of air around him. No. it is Simon, it is his insides, the part of personality he closes off and protects even from glances in fear the wrong pair of hands will harm it. Stain it. Make it not his anymore.

Closed doors, chairs leaned against walls and tactical positions near the doorways are the things that protect Ghost physically. Keeping him safe from people behind him, in front of him, next to him, everywhere. Those are the things that keep him from suffocating just because some unsuspecting rookie is making tea next to him in the kitchen, standing just a little too close for comfort.

So you can probably understand, dear reader, the fear and confusion that wiggles straight through his soul and rips out of hus chest with a choked back laugh. A fear of his own reactions.

Because, damnit, he should noit be letting that damn scot so damn close. He shold not be letting the man stamd behind him, bounce around as the younger man explains some new explosive he made with shampoo and damn toothpaste, sneak into Ghost’s room with a warm cup of tea.

He shouldn’t be letting Soap wiggle into his heart, into his damn soul and mind, occupying every free space in his thoughts and then making room to occupy more. He shouldn't be concerned on missions if the damn walking bomb is okay, if he’s even alive. He shouldn’t be thinking in the evenings if maybe Soap is still in the common area, if he could pull the man outside for a smoke just to escape his insomnia and nightmares.

But here he was, chatting with Soap over comms as the man finished up some solo intel mission. An easy one, of course, but Ghost still needed to hear the man, still needed to reassure himself he was okay.

“What has two legs and bleeds?” Ghost says into the mic and twirls a nail Soap had given him on one of their missions together.

“Ay swear Lt, I’m scared to be scared.” Soap’s voice comes over the headphones Ghost was wearing, sounding exasperated and completely okay.

“Half a dog.”

“Welp, I was right. Tell, Lt, you still got that tea with what was it… Blueberries?”

“Raspberries.”

“There it is. Raspberries. it’s pissin’ it doon ‘ere, i swer. I’ll need some tea or I’ll be sick.”

“Heavens help us, sick Johnny? Sounds like hell.”

Johnny’s raspy laugh came through the comms, sounding more like he was choking.

Simon stands up with a fond little smile, the expression hidden behind his balaclava only for his heart to know about. The man walks to the kitchen by the communal area to reach into one of the cupboards and take out his meticulously hoarded tea.

As the tea brewed and Johnny babbled on and on about chemicals while the helicopter brought him back, Ghost let himself feel a little warm. A little tingly, fuzzy feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He didn’t think Ghost was able to love. Not with all the layers and layers of clothes and protections keeping his insides safe.

But Johnny had a talent for wiggling into spaces he shouldn’t wiggle into. He would find a space, find a crack, and if he couldn’t, he’d make his own with loud jokes and little touches. He’d push his way into Ghost’s soul, through his armour, and make a little nook for himself right next to Simon.

He would remind Ghost to let himself be Simon from time to time. Unlike Ghost, Simon still knew how to love. He knew how to love Johnny, because he already did.

It already was as easy as breathing, even with all the armour constricting his lungs. Because Johnny took the restrictions apart and finally let him *breathe*.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

RB for the largest sample size this site has ever seen. it's time to put an end to this.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

Soap not telling his family anything about ghost because his existence is classified.

Ghost finally retiring and getting a new identity

(Simon Mctavish)

And Soap finally bringing him to the giant family Christmas reunion like his husband hasn’t been a secret for *years*

*gaslighting ensues*

“John, who is this?”

“Mom, what? This is Simon? My husband? Stop pulling ma leg.”

Ghost brought the marriage paperwork to prove that they have been married for 5+ years. Then he goes. “You guys do this every year,”

LIKE HES MET THEM BEFORE.

And he used his skills to profile everyone there before so he can now act like he HAS met them before.

And everyone is like, John???

And soapghost just go ‘ha ha funny bit Simon doesn’t exist’ ‘will you guys ever drop that one?’

This is a stupid idea. I shouldn’t post it but. I’m going to anyway. I’m sorry I’m just avoiding doing my uni work I’ll delete it later.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

Wolfstar hand kisses

Here I am again with the worms. Enjoy this thing, whatever this is.

Also, a little competition(?). There is a certain typo in the text that is very much intentiomal and is a result of me and bestie being sleep deprived at like three in the morning. Those, who will find it and comment, get my eternal love (and a cookie).

Remus Lupin would like to call himself a reasonable man. He would also say he had immaculate control of himself, considering his many years spent dealing with his unfortunate lycanthropy. Remus rarely got distracted from his goals, he also wasn't too quick to anger. The teen was usually the brains of their pranks, quick to make up lies to cover their mischief. But so help him god almighty, he would lose his mind tonight.

Sirius Black, the inarguably most desired man of their year, was currently laying on Remus’s bed and twirling his wand between his long and thin fingers. He was reading his herbology book, probably studying for the upcoming test that loomed over the Marauders’ heads.

-Hey, Remy? - his voice was an innocent sing song as the teen pulled Remus’ attention to him. The taller man hummed in response. - Did you know that Asphodel is part of the lily family?

of course he knew. He was already done studying for their test, so it would be obvious to him. That, however, didn’t mean Sirius needed to know that.

-Oh, really? That’s interesting. - Ouch. He sounded tired, more than usually. It was only a few days after the last full moon and his voice was still hoarse.

-Yeah, I know. We should give Lily Asphodels for her next birthday. Maybe she could dry them and use them in her potions. - Sirius’ eyes twinkled prettily in the warm light of their room and for a moment Remus forgot how to make air move into his lungs.

Remus smiled at his dear boyfriend with a gentle look in his eyes.

-Why not. Just remember to order them a couple days before so we won't have to steal them from the greenhouse, okay? 

Sirius only nodded with that wide grin he got when he was excited about something and went back to his textbook. He started twirling his wand between his long fingers again. A shiny ring that Remus has never seen before catches his attention.

-Is this one new? - he wrapped his fingers around Sirius’ own and pulled his hand closer. Sirius dropped the wand on the bed and scooted closer, resting his chin in his palm.

-Yup. Pandora made it. She found the rock last Saturday when we went to the lake for a picnic, remember? - Sirius sounded awfully proud of the shiny ring. That wasn't an unusual thing for him. He loved showing off the things his friends made for him or gave him. Sometimes he reminded Remus of a bird, making a little nest on his bed. He would pile all of the shiny things in a very specific spot that would be the same without fail every time it was stocktaking time. He would pull Remus next to the bed and show him every single rock, ring, piece of glass or can tab. Sirius was very fond of stealing the tabs on the cans his friends had. Sometimes he would be so quick with it they wouldn't even notice when he took them. 

-Mhm, i do.

Remus gently took the ring off and looked it over, observing every detail. He put it on the bed with the most gentle move he could muster through the shaking of his hands. 

He slowly removed every ring from Sirius’ pretty fingers and put them in that spot. He rubbed the spots they revealed. Sirius’ skin was so much softer than his. Where Sirius was all soft lines and thin skin that was awfully smooth (probably from the cherry hand cream he was fond of so much), Remus was rough skin and scars. His hands were bigger, sturdier, more square. Remus’ skin was covered in tiny scratches and scars almost constantly. Sirius would say it was his anemia, Remus would every time try to convince him it was actually just bad luck. Sirius’ fingernails were perfectly manicured almonds with trimmed cuticles and sometimes even a shimmering nail polish. Remus’ nails were more square and rarely kept in a state that maybe stood next to presentable (it was usually when Sirius insisted on doing his nails with him. Remus liked it very much. He would disappear you quicker than James catches a snitch if you ever told anyone that.). 

When all the rings from Sirius’ fingers were securely laying in their little spot on his bed (why Sirius always demanded to do the showcasing on Remus’ bed was lost to him (he learned a long time ago to not think about Sirius’ life decisions)) he pulled his hand closer to his face.

-Your hands are really pretty.

Remus’ voice was a soft rumble as he turned his hand this and that way, observing his skin. Sirius smiled and his expression melted instantly. Damn that observant bastard. Maybe Sirius played dumb most of his life to get people to do things for him, but he was far from stupid. He had two perfectly working (and looking) eyes and he knew how to use them. Right now those eyes told him that the cold of the early autumn night got to Remus and his bones were aching. He would probably have to take out his cane soon.

-Are they? - Sirius cooed at him softly. He let Remus have this moment and enjoyed the rare softness his dear boyfriend was showing him right now. 

Remus rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

-Yes, they are.

He pressed the softest kiss imaginable to Sirius’ wrist, holding his hand gently in his own trembling grip. He moved up, pressing little kisses higher and higher, over his wrist and palm. He stopped at the spot where his fingers started and turned Sirius’ hand over. He kissed his prettily pink knuckles and moved down. Around his thumb, on the back of his hand, over that one vein that always seemed to be there, nicely protruding from under his thin skin, his lips made their journey already engraved in his soul.

He tried fixing his grip on Sirius’ hand but hissed and let go completely.

-Remy? Are you okay? - Sirius’ awfully sweet voice hit his ears. There were suddenly thin fingers gripping his own in a gentle touch that made him want to weep.

-Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little achy from the cold.

They both knew it wasn't fine. The aching always started in his knuckles and then spread to his wrists, elbows and everywhere. Sirius decided one winter to knit him gloves and then have Lily, the lovely woman that she was, enchant them permanently with a warming spell. Although Remus’ hands got too big for them and the charm faded, he still always kept them in his trunk, safely tucked among his treasures.

-Well, if you say you’re fine, then you’re fine.

Remus knew Sirius wouldn’t drop it. He never did. He would find some sneaky way to make him feel better, just like he always found a way to get Remus to tell him he loved him.

-I think your hands are pretty, too. They’re the prettiest necklaces.

Sirius had a serious (no pun intended) look on his face but broke after only a second under Remus’ gaze and started giggling wildly. The sound tugged on Remus’ heart painfully. Call him a masochist, but he was happy for this pain.

-Okay, okay. But seriously, they are pretty. Because they’re yours.

Sirius started rubbing his knuckles in a completely not suspicious way. He picked up his wand, not suspicious, muttered something, also not suspicious, and tucked the wand into his bun. Remus felt heat spread over his fingers, Sirius’ rubbing only making the heat rise and melt deeper into his aching fingers.

He huffed out a breath but let Sirius do his thing, knowing how important this little ritual was to his dear boyfriend. And okay, maybe having the absolute prettiest person on the planet rubbing his aching knuckles gently while rambling about which crystals were the prettiest wasn't so bad after all. But you wouldn't catch him saying it.

And then, unfortunately for Remus’ poor heart, Sirius leaned down, held his trembling hands in his own and started pressing gentle kisses to every single knuckle on all ten of his fingers. Remus grumbled and tried pulling his hands away.

-No, Remy. Please let me. I wanna do this for you. - Sirius looked at him with the prettiest eyes in the universe and something in Remus crumbled. - If not for you, let me do it for me. I like to keep my jewelry in good shape.

He slowly relaxed his hands and let Sirius do his thing. His touch was gentle, like any pressure would cause him pain (which was actually probable, just not now. It got worse the colder it was, and during winter even holding a pen or squeezing his fingers together was just too much). The warmth seeped into his bones and spread through his body. The stress of the fool moon, annoyance over his slowly slowing down bones and anger over the whole world really, because why were there so many things that annoyed his dear boyfriend and why couldn't he fix them right now, slowly seeped away. His head started dropping and it was hard to keep his attention on Sirius.

-Hey, Remy? Let’s go to sleep. We can shower in the morning.

Remus quickly gathered Sirius into his arms and laid them both under the blankets, securely pushing Sirius’ lean body into his chest and wrapping his own long limbs around him. Right before and right after the fool moon the wolf in him would get possessive of Sirius and the only way Remus could sleep was with his painfully familiar body held in his arms. 

He sighed happily into Sirius’ lavender smelling hair (because of course Sirius would give up his painstakingly crafted hair care routine just to use the shampoo that least irritated Remus’ sensitive nose around the full moon) and squeezed him tighter. The warmth of Sirius’ body pressed into his own seemed to soothe his perpetually cold and aching limbs and slowly lulled him to a deep sleep, uninterrupted by pain or nightmares.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

Imagine Miles telling Hobie about Noir and how he's so funny and harmless and silly and stuff

Then Hobie goes on a mission with Noir and is like heh I guess Miles was right

Until Noir pulls out a gun and starts bustin shots at the enemy like it's normal. Like that's what Spidermen do

Green Goblin start flying and Noirs like 'Ive got this one fellas' Hobie turns around and my mans standing there with a tommy gun like

[the-blue-marshmallow]

Corr i just wrote the thing in the morning while threatening my education (not really) don't give me more ideas, please. I have to live

hi hello welcome!

Enjoy this thing i have just made in class. I'm not sure if it's a good thing, but it's certainly a thing.

Obviously, go show @unhingedpolycule my beloveds some love and appreciation. They're the brains that created this scrumptious AU.

I'll stop rambling now, so enjoy.

The night was warm, which pulled the students from the nearby university onto the streets. They were chattering, yelling and drinking, enjoying the last few years of their freedom.

Soap sat on the loveseat on his balcony with his beloved wraith laying on his lap like a big, snuggly cat.

“So these humans pay money to acquire knowledge?” the void that was Ghost, shed of his usual mask, echoed out. He was bewildered, absolutely not comprehending how colleges work. Soap had been trying to explain it for the past half an hour.

“Well, yeah. And if you don’t learn everything fast enough, they can kick you out and you’ll have to pay again.”

Soap gently threads his fingers through the smoke under Ghost’s hood, eliciting a pleasant, rumbling purr.

“Outrageous!” Ghost bellows, accidently awakening the eldritch being napping next to them. Ghost sat up, pressed a tender kiss to the spot where Konig’s forehead could potentially be under that hood he wore and settled the other demon back in the other loveseat.

“How can this even work? Taking someone’s right to knowledge away?” he repeated, this time more quietly, settling his head back on Soap’s plush thighs.

“Okay, to be completely honest, no one is taking anyone’s rights away. Or at least not in this case. The whole thing is really transactional, but that’s just because being able to teach so many people is really time consuming.”

Sopa rambled on and on, absentmindedly rubbing Ghost’s semi-material skin.

“The professors spend their whole life getting certificates and learning so they can teach other people. They have to be paid too. Capitalism, darling.”

And maybe Ghost’s unmoving heart gave a small, strained squeeze at that word. Even if it did, that would be only for Ghost to know. And maybe Konig, because Ghost was convinced the bastard was listening in.

“I suppose that’s somewhat reasonable.” Ghost grumbled unhappily and nuzzled into Soap tighter. “But I want to see this ‘college’ you speak of. I want to see what this place of knowledge looks like.”

Soap laughed, a hoarse laugh Ghost could probably hear and recognise even from hell.

“Fine, fine. I’ll find us a fun seminar with an open audience, how about that?”

Ghost only nodded, the promise hanging in the air heavy, along with all the different things Soap promised his two demon companions they’d try together.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

Jegulus + neck kisses

It is now one shot dump time! Say thank you to Corr who gave me enough serotonin to do this stuff and actually show the world my writing.

Regulus lazily strolled through Hogwarts’ corridors, his outer robe left in his dormitory after lunch. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, showing a carefully manufactured image of a self-assured heir to the Black family.

It was a warm day. Most of the students were outside during the long free time after lunch. They all desperately grasped the moments of free time. Oh well. He was free until Pandora or Barty would decide that he needed his annual dose of sunlight.

He strolled down the corridor, his bag hanging from his shoulder. He still had to finish his essay for Potions and read two chapters for DADA. Right, and Transfi-

He was suddenly yanked into one of the classrooms he walked beside. His body was thrown against one of the desks. Two strong arms, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing perfect brown skin, caged him against the desk. He looked up at the person, slightly scared, because you didn’t get manhandled into an empty classroom everyday. His fear turned into annoyance when his eyes finally landed on the person’s face.

-Jamie.

His voice was snarky and annoyed, reflectring the feelings probably seen in his eyes. James Potter was standing in front of him, with his infuriating glasses and his infuriating fluffy hair and those bottomless eyes that reflected his pale face.

-Hello, lovely. -James’ voice was not its usual cheerful tone that made Regulus’ muscles twitch (his face muscles. Specifically the ones around his lips. Jamie called it a smile.). The other man’s voice was weirdly calm and collected. reserved.

-You are not your usual annoying self today. - it wasn’t a question, more like a statement. - Why?

Jamie’s eyes darkened dangerously (no, Regulus did not like that look. Absolutely not.) and he tilted his head to the side. He was much taller than Regulus and he had to bend over slightly to look him in the eyes.

-That Ravenclaw boy was awfully friendly with you at breakfast.

Oh.

Oh.

So this was it. James Potter, sunshine of Hogwarts, the happiest man Regulus knew, was jealous. Oh boy.

In this moment Regulus realized he played a little too close to the fire. His innocent playing of the Ravenclaw boy to get him to help with his Herbology project might have gotten him into trouble.

You have to understand, dear reader, James Potter was not a jealous man. He did not get angry with Regulus. He did not get jealous of Regulus. He was not possessive of Regulus.

He knew, no matter who Regulus flirted with to get something he wanted, that James Potter in the end was the one who Regulus came back to. He was the brotherfucker, a title earned through tears, sweat and even a little bit of blood. He was the man Regulus trusted the most beside his beloved brother. He was the man his heart yearned for. He was the man who infuriated Regulus to no end but still pulled him back over and over again.

So when James Potter gets jealous because some Ravenclaw boy (who in the end had an ugly personality and Regulus would not consider him even if James never existed) tried getting cozy with him, it surprised the younger Black brother. Not a lot of things surprised Regulus Black.

-Are you jealous, Jamie? - he coos in a mockingly sweet tone and tilts his head.

And then, much to Regulus’ dread, James growls and grabs his jaw roughly. For just a second a jolt of fear washes through Regulus and his breath hitches. James seems to realize in what position exactly his long fingers were. The rough look in his eyes dims a bit and he moves his grip lover, instead resting his hand on Regulus’ long and thin neck.

His thumb brushes over Regulus’ pulse and his head leans closer.

-I am. I really, really am.

James’ hand wasn’t restraining his breathing or his blood flow whatsoever, more just holding him. Showing him exactly what this situation was.

Regulus cast his gray eyes down and sighed.

-I’m sorry, Jamie. I wasn’t flirting with him, y’know. At least not more than normally. - his voice was gentle and apologetic.- He was kinda… pushy.

James slowly shakes his head. He keeps his eyes on Regulus, like he was trying to look into his soul.

-I know. I’m not mad.- James’ voice was gentle but it held a certain dangerous edge to it. That edge, unfortunately, made the little hairs on Regulus’ nape stand up.

-Then why did you manhandle me into the classroom, if you’re not mad?

-I don’t need to be mad at you to want to mark you as my own.- His voice was a low growl. Oh good lord.

James leaned in and pressed his nose to Regulus’ soft skin. He inhaled deeply and sneaked his hand around to the back of Regulus’ head. He threaded his long fingers into his soft hair and tugged gently.

Regulus took a deep breath and fixed his position. His knees were weak and trembling, the only thing keeping him upright was sheer willpower and the desk he was pressed against. James seemed to see the movement and smirked against Regulus’ skin.

Regulus didn’t think about this too much. He thought that maybe James would just ignore it and continue with whatever was happening right now. Maybe, if he was particularly unlucky, his lover would tease him about it. But no. On this day, in a matter of maybe ten minutes, James Potter managed to surprise his beloved boyfriend, Regulus Black, not once but twice.

James’ hands roughly gripped under his thighs and lifted his slim body up. Regulus was set on the desk, his legs on either side of the taller man’s body. His hands were keeping him upright, braced on the cold surface of the desk behind him.

-This okay, baby?

In a moment of sweetness, James stilled and murmured into his pale skin. Regulus wasn’t sure if he could trust his lips to properly work so he just nodded. He felt the other grin into his neck.

And then three things happened. James pulled his head back with the tight grip on his black hair. Regulus whined.

James smiled.

James sighed.

James sunk his teeth into Reggie’s pale skin.

Regulus Black was always taught how to be a respectable young man. One part of that was learning to never react too much. Not cry, not scream, not yell. So when James’ teeth sunk into his neck a very surprising thing happened. Regulus yelped in surprise and his whole body jolted. His hips accidently bucked agaisnt James’ own. Oh, no. This was bad. This was very, very bad. (Also, Reggie just realised, James was slowly building a life record of how many times a person could surprise him in their lifetime. Regulus thought taht if someone were to actually do it, he was glad it landed on James.)

James leaned back and looked Regulus in the eyes. He had to basically loom over Regulus’ form to properly hold eye contact with him.

-Oh, baby… Did you like that?

Regulus blushed wildly at James’ sweet tone. He grumbled and shook his head.

-No. I didn’t like it. You just surprised me, that’s all.

James snickered and chuckled darkly.

-Mhm, sure. Whatever you say, baby.- James said in a sarcastic tone. Regulus should not like that pet name so much, damn it! He was the heir to the house of Black, for god’s sake.

Regulus scowled at James and leaned back on his arms.

-Of course taht’s what happened, you bastard. You’re not all that, no matter what the gryffindor girls say.

James tilted his head to the side and grinned at him.

-Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I just left, would you?- and then he pushed himself off the desk and took two steps back. Oh no.

-Wait!- James smirked but stilled. He waved his hand in the air, motioning for Regulus to continue.- I… OKay, maybe I did like it a little bit.- he grumbled and put his head down in slight shame.

James stepped closer and caged him with his arms again. His fluffy hair was covering his eyes a little bit. He blew some air up to clear his vision and smiled that goofy, annoying and absolutely stunning smile of his that was reserved for his beloved.

-There you go, baby.- his voice was a confident coo.- Good job.

Regulus crumbled. He put his head down to hide the angry blush spreading over his heels and grumbled something even he wasnt sure what it was.

James chuckled and kissed his cheek tenderly. He didn’t force him to look at him or something. He never did, he just accepted that sometimes eye contact was just too much and he would not get it even if he tried. He also knew that forcing Reggie into looking at him would end very, very badly. He witnessed it first hand when some bastard from Slytherin tried to pull that. It was an ugly sight.

And then James dove in and started pretty much ravaging his neck. He bit, he sucked, he nibbled. The sensations pulled little broken noises out of Regulus. He seemed to revel in them and tried different spots just to hear them all.

Regulus struggled with the sensations. James’ lips sucking on his skin, leaving angry purple marks that would probably take at least a week to fade. His teeth nibbling the skin on his collarbones in the most gentle way possible. The full on bites made to the soft flesh of his shoulder, not enough to break skin (he would kill James if he ever actually bit him. Maybe he licked having visual proof of their relationship on his skin but scars were just too much, god damn it.) but enough to make him whimper and throw his head back in a lazy motion.

James leaned back and looked at him, his cheeks red and his lips covered in spit.

-You okay, baby?- he gently brushed Regulus’ fluffy hair back and out of his face. His eyes were awfully tender, now that he got his need to mark Regulus up out of his system. Reggie hated how that look made his stomach flip.

He took a moment to take a deep breath and gather the reality around him. James’ hands were on his thighs, grounding him and providing him with a consistent sensation he could focus on. Damn that perceptive bastard.

Regulus nodded and took another deep breath.

-Yeah. I think I’m okay.- His words were slow and weirdly intentional, like it took a lot of effort to get them out. james squeezed his thighs, not too little but not too roughly either. Just right.

-Can I continue?- His dear asked in a gentle tone. He kept his face leveled with Regulus’, even if they didn’t hold eye contact.

Regulus only nodded.

-...Do you want me to continue?

This was their issue. James Potter was just too perceptive of Regulus’ reactions for the younger to keep any secret around him. Damn him and his stupid, kind heart.

Regulus took a moment to thinkl about the question. He thought for a long time, longer than it usually took him. James was there the whole time, keeping his big, warm hands on his thighs.

He slowly nodded. He realized he had been running the tips of his fingers over the veins on James’ hands to soothe himself. He didn’t stop the motion, despite his embarrassment.

-Do you remember what to say if it gets too much?

James’ voice was so infuriatingly gentle and soothing as he spoke to him. He didn’t demand, he didn’t rush him. He let him take his time and find the words in the mess that was now his mind.

He took a deep breath and tried to get the word out. Then he tried again. He parted his lips and focused very hard on getting this one word out for his dear.

-Petrichor.

James’ grin widened impossibly. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to his forehead.

-Good job, baby. Thank you.

Regulus blushed and dipped his head forward. He put his forehead on James’ wide shoulder and sighed happily. Even when words would get a little too hard for Reggie, James would make sure he was okay and that he felt loved. He knew how sometimes Regulus would drown in his own thoughts.

-Okay, and can you show me what to do if words get too hard?

Regulus thought for a moment. He then brought his hand higher on James’ forearm and wrapped his thin fingers around his strong arm. He squeezed his arm three times, the first squeeze long and the other ones short.

-Mhm, that’s it. Good job, baby.

Regulus blushed and grumbled into James’ shoulder. The other laughed at his reaction, the kind of laugh that would make Reggie’s heart skip a beat and do a flip. The taller man dipped his head lower and attached his lips to a spot above Regulus’ collarbone that wasn’t yet covered with a bite or a hickey. He slowly moved along his skin, filling in the gaps he left before. His touch was less urgent, less possessive, more gentle. It was like the result mattered less than the process in this moment. There was always one warm hand on Regulus’ thigh, under his own smaller, pale hand. It made him feel assured that no matter what, he had control over what happened to him. That no one ever would make him hold eye contact or do something to him he didn't like.

He whimpered and let his head roll back, revealing more of his pale skin. James snaked a hand under his slightly long hair and put a big hand on the back of his neck, supporting his head and letting his neck relax. He gently put his thumb behind Reggie’s ear and so softly moved his head to the side to kiss and nip at the spot behind his other ear.

The hand on his thigh squeezed him, seemingly in a silent question. He squeezed back, his hand shaking just a little.

James moved to the other side of his neck, rolling his head gently in his grip. He was so tender about it, so soft and careful.

They would emerge from the classroom forty minutes later, Regulus's hair tussled and fluffed up from being held so much. And if he walked a little funny and paid a bit more attention to keeping his neck covered, then damn him for having little joys in life every now and then.

[the-blue-marshmallow]

hi hello welcome!

Enjoy this thing i have just made in class. I'm not sure if it's a good thing, but it's certainly a thing.

Obviously, go show @unhingedpolycule my beloveds some love and appreciation. They're the brains that created this scrumptious AU.

I'll stop rambling now, so enjoy.

The night was warm, which pulled the students from the nearby university onto the streets. They were chattering, yelling and drinking, enjoying the last few years of their freedom.

Soap sat on the loveseat on his balcony with his beloved wraith laying on his lap like a big, snuggly cat.

“So these humans pay money to acquire knowledge?” the void that was Ghost, shed of his usual mask, echoed out. He was bewildered, absolutely not comprehending how colleges work. Soap had been trying to explain it for the past half an hour.

“Well, yeah. And if you don’t learn everything fast enough, they can kick you out and you’ll have to pay again.”

Soap gently threads his fingers through the smoke under Ghost’s hood, eliciting a pleasant, rumbling purr.

“Outrageous!” Ghost bellows, accidently awakening the eldritch being napping next to them. Ghost sat up, pressed a tender kiss to the spot where Konig’s forehead could potentially be under that hood he wore and settled the other demon back in the other loveseat.

“How can this even work? Taking someone’s right to knowledge away?” he repeated, this time more quietly, settling his head back on Soap’s plush thighs.

“Okay, to be completely honest, no one is taking anyone’s rights away. Or at least not in this case. The whole thing is really transactional, but that’s just because being able to teach so many people is really time consuming.”

Sopa rambled on and on, absentmindedly rubbing Ghost’s semi-material skin.

“The professors spend their whole life getting certificates and learning so they can teach other people. They have to be paid too. Capitalism, darling.”

And maybe Ghost’s unmoving heart gave a small, strained squeeze at that word. Even if it did, that would be only for Ghost to know. And maybe Konig, because Ghost was convinced the bastard was listening in.

“I suppose that’s somewhat reasonable.” Ghost grumbled unhappily and nuzzled into Soap tighter. “But I want to see this ‘college’ you speak of. I want to see what this place of knowledge looks like.”

Soap laughed, a hoarse laugh Ghost could probably hear and recognise even from hell.

“Fine, fine. I’ll find us a fun seminar with an open audience, how about that?”

Ghost only nodded, the promise hanging in the air heavy, along with all the different things Soap promised his two demon companions they’d try together.

[the-blue-marshmallow]