#I am drunk I say things sometimes when I've been drinking

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

'Lack of plot' is a hilarious criticism. Apart from not being true, so what if it were? Plots are for books that don't have Jean Moreau. Plots are for poor, impoverished stories that lack even a single Fox. We will devour 300 pages of nothing but Jean snarking at complete strangers and still beg for more. Give us 300 pages of nothing but Neil cyberbullying Riko under an assumed name, we'll eat it up. We will immerse ourselves in 300 pages of Kevin locked in his own bedroom and seen through even the smallest keyhole, we will never want to emerge. These characters ARE plots. They are the path and the gateway to better versions of ourselves. Don't you see? We're living our lives with them inside of us, we've become the plot.

[antimony-medusa]

But what do you MEAN this fic where blorbo gets mind controlled might be kinky?

So I am kind of famous for saying that this fandom has a lot of untagged kinks and I get people in my notes pretty regularly going YES I"M BEGGING YOU TAG IT or YOU"RE DERANGED THIS IS PLATONIC, etc. Lots of strong emotions. But I also get people who are going uh, I knew something was going on, but I couldn't really identify it— what do you mean exactly? What kinks are you seeing?

So, this post is breaking down things I've seen and how in some cases, they start to cross the line into kink territory. These are all things that were being done platonically— no dicks were out, everybody's clothes were on (in most cases, not always with the dehumanization tropes)— but the focus of the narrative started to place special weight on specific features, experiences, or concepts— there were extended paragraphs that served no narrative purpose except to dwell on something— in a way that I started to go "the point of this fic is the squiggly feeling the author or reader gets on reading about this specific setup— this is getting kinky". And that is fine, I am not placing any moral weight on engaging in kinks— people just get wired sometimes to really like the concept of bondage— but a) sometimes it would be nice to get a heads up as a reader, b) if you like these things— there are tags out there that are FULL of this concept, you might like to do it or search it out on purpose.

So I asked some friends what things have they found in platonic fics that they went "ah. yeah. something is happening here", and this post is the result. A lot of these things don't exist in the real world or people don't necessarily want them to happen in the real world/to them, so it's understandable that a person can miss how they'd started to morph and become something new. But when we talk about kink in fiction we're often talking about things that either can't or we don't want to happen in real life, it's just that reading about them/writing them scratches our brain.

And also, to be clear, in no way do I mean that if you've written these concepts then you definitely have been writing kink. There are vanilla ways to do all of these concepts, and sometimes the idea of dehumanization is interesting to you from a narrative standpoint, for example. You can also engage with them in a non-sexual way— many ace people are very kinky— so I'm not saying that you've secretly been writing porn OR writing something you have a real desire to happen to you. Just to make that clear. However, if you keep coming back to a specific setup for writing or reading, it might be worth investigating if certain things scratch your brain in a specific way.

So.

Blorbo gets mind controlled and there's a detailed breakdown of their descent into this altered state and then they're just so biddable and out of it and vulnerable and the narrative places weight either on someone taking advantage of them in this state, taking care of them, or their own subjective experience having lost control: this is hypnokink. Hypnokink or mind control— lots of ways to do it, but there is a thriving hypnosis or hypnokink scene that you might want to look into. Sometimes this is played for horror, but even the horror stuff can be kinky if played in a certain way. This falls under a larger umbrella of "altered states" that is very popular.

Blorbo gets drugged/intoxicated, often against their will, and heavy narrative weight is placed on their experience while drunk/drugged and unable to control themselves or conceptualize what is happening: this is intox kink. Another altered state— and again this is sometimes used for horror, but even the horror can give you the special tinglies if the dread is mixed with something.

Blorbo is turned into a vampire or taken by a vampire, gets drunk from or drinks blood, and there's specific narrative focus on how good the blood tastes, blood from a wound trickling down over someone's body and maybe being licked up, a hunger being sated— so vampires are a longstanding trope that can be done in a strictly horror way, but a LOT of vampire tropes are deeply kinky along the ideas of possession, loss of bodily autonomy, fear/desire, and consumption. This, for example, I have definitely read dipping into bloodplay or consumption kink. Sometimes blood drinking scenes are directly metaphorical for sex, including narrative tension building to a release where someone feels so good, but also there are other elements, such as a focus on blood that gets kinky.

Blorbo has wings that get preened, and it feels so good they can't hold back instinctive movements and sounds (maybe bird sounds) and they're so grateful and bond so much with the person doing it with them— This is wing kink. This is actually the first trope in this fandom that I identified that some things were happening with, because I was reading these fics that had been recommended to me as family fluff going— am I crazy or is something else happening here? Wingfic has been broadly used as a platonic/familial trope in this fandom, however, the structure of the scenes in which it is written about sometimes has heavy crossover with wingfic in other fandoms, where they are using it as a smut trope— the fic just didn't have anyone literally orgasm at the end. But if there's involuntary sounds or movement from the person with the wings, a focus on how pleasurable it feels, a feeling of release or rightness that someone gives the person with wings, and then they cuddle afterwards— yeah.

Blorbo is terrified and chased by a monster of some kind, with a heavy focus on how frightened they are, how inexorable the monster is, and something bad going to happen, and/or the monster chasing them enjoying their terror— this can just be horror. OR it can be fear play or predator/prey. Sometimes it's both.

Blorbo is confronted by monsters (perhaps giants or aliens) who are much bigger than them and the threat of being eaten by them is narratively focused on, either bitten or swallowed whole. Sometimes in the narrative the eating happens, either safely or to their death— this is vore. Being eaten alive is also a horror trope so it isn't always vore, but it is sometimes most certainly vore.

Aliens or monsters/hybrids much bigger than blorbo have them as family/friends/romantic partners/captives: this is giant/tiny. Sometimes just a science fiction au but if there's a lot of weight being placed on how big they are and how small blorbo is, this could be g/t. Borrower aus can frequently start to fall into this category. If they're not THAT big but there's focus on things like "oh they can span my waist with one hand", this can be size kink, instead. (Note that to my knowledge the platonic version is giant/tiny and sexual is micro/macro— there's a thriving platonic scene I sometimes see when I'm cruising tags, so if you like this you might want to check that out.)

Blorbo is non-consensually touched, cuddled, or modified, and narrative focus is placed on this as a violation/outrage/loss of bodily autonomy: again, this is something that can just be a horror trope, but there is often a larger or smaller strain of consent issues in it. If blorbo doesn't want it at first but eventually feels at home in the nest and feels good, that's dubcon (dubious consent), and if they are fighting it and raging against it and will never be part of your family, that starts to overlap with noncon (non-consent). Blorbo's bodily autonomy is being non-consentually violated, which would put it under the consent issues umbrella. I think many people writing these tropes are simply focusing on captivity and bad things happening to blorbo— when one is a prisoner they automatically lose bodily autonomy, and I don't think that every fic set in a dungeon requires a consent issues tag— and additionally many people are writing from family settings that include bodily autonomy being violated (being forced to hug your aunt you don't want to hug, for example, is an example that many of us have experienced). Not every example of non-consensual touching is always consent issues. However, when the narrative focus is on the outrage and betrayal of it all, the loss of control, and/or the helplessness, this can start to serve a different narrative function in a story than simply illustrating that a family is touchy. I have read scenes that structurally function as a thinly-veiled metaphor for sexual assault, including things like blorbo being held down while they fight against what is being done to their body. Some of these could have used additional tagging. Note: because this is such a hot button topic I should mention that if you like writing or reading this I do not think that means you are a fan of violence happening in the real world— a) reading a bad thing happening on the page makes it containable and controllable in a way that the real world does not, people also like to read about murder and dismemberment— b) simply the presence of a happy ending tag on a fic contextualizes that the bad thing is something to be passed through in a way that again, the real world does not offer. This is a similar thing to torture, suicide, or slavery, where sometimes you want to see blorbo have a bad fictional time specifically in things that would be terrible in real life, and in your real life you do not condone police brutality or want these things to happen. Again, sometimes people like to read about people being eaten alive, and it does not mean they condone wolves on the streets.

Blorbo is captured by alien/fae and kept as a pet, sometimes kept in a cage or collared, unable to communicate with the people holding them: this is often tagged as dehumanization and it is that, but it also starts to contain elements of pet play. If there is an emphasis on having to eat pet food, be "trained" by their owner, leashing/collaring/crating— this may be pet play.

Adult or near-adult blorbo is adopted and take care of by a new dad who knows everything to keep them safe and loves them and can take care of them and they can just let go and be their new sonboy because Dad's got them: Right. So this is sometimes just someone writing a "wouldn't it be nice to be taken care of" fantasy. Sometimes this is Daddy kink. This is almost never tagged and in some cases that I have read it certainly deserves an additional tag. An adult Daddy or Mommy figure taking care of their adult Little who can just be taken care of and not worry is a d/s trope. In some cases, where you have an established adult with a job who gets taken by magical means who then finds their true home as a powerful being's new child where they don't have to worry about their former life and they mentally find comfort in their new role as sonboy, this may also be Caregiver/Little. Direct age regression (often written by people who experience it) is usually tagged appropriately, but narrative elements that nod to that while not actually being age regression, such as an adult being now treated as a child and the narrative presenting that as good, are remarkably common and often entirely untagged in certain tags/circles. If someone could look at your fic and expect adult peers and then this happens, you should consider tagging or phrasing your summary differently.

Blorbo has hybrid instincts that overcome their cognitive functioning and make them revert to an instinctive form such that they can only be calmed/soothed by another hybrid of a different type: now this at this point is basically its own trope and I am fascinated to see if this trope expands out of MCYT as people move to new fandoms. However, it shares a startling amount of overlap with omegaverse. One of the primary draws of omegaverse for many people is the biologically determined altered states and the fated-mates aspect, and hybrids reverting to instincts and needing particular care from a perfect family is often beat for beat things I've read in omegaverse, just platonic. When you have a biologically determined "protector" figure and a biologically determined "runt" whose job is to be taken care of and to submit to the protector, and this is required to calm the protector, it also has strong overlap with BDSM aus.

Blorbo is captured or contained and tied up, and narrative emphasis is placed on their experience of being bound and struggling against restraints or just how impossible to escape from the restraints are: this is bondage. I have had friends who are into this mention that they used to tie up their barbies as children, so again, as with all of these, this can be perfectly platonic— but something about that concept just seems particularly satisfying to the writer, perhaps it is more than just set dressing.

Blorbo is captured and there is strong emphasis on them being hurt or the waves of pain rolling over them as they are tortured: this is just an honourable whump trope, but a lot of whump tropes if handled in a specific way have strong crossover with BDSM. Lack of ability to move or restriction of senses, loss of control— or, as with this, an emphasis on pain or inflicting pain, which can cover sadism or masochism depending on our POV.

Blorbo is overwhelmed and only finds comfort in submitting to the authority of someone who they completely trust, whether because of past trauma or because of hybrid instincts: this is d/s, or domination/submission. If there's specific emphasis on allowing someone to take control finally makes blorbo's head go quiet, that's subspace.

Blorbo is marked or indicated as belonging to someone, either through something like an earring or a brand/tattoo or a magical mark, so that anyone who looks at them will know that they belong to someone: again, this can just be horror, but especially if it's framed as a good/satisfying thing, it also can contain strong crossover with BDSM, especially master/slave elements.

Blorbo is transformed and corrupted, often being bodily changed into a new form by aliens or fae or mobs: this is obviously body horror, but this can also be transformation kink. This is a narrative trope in SF and horror so someone can approach this completely innocently, but when handled in less of a horror way, it can take on other undertones. If there is a strong emphasis on the innocence and unprepared nature of blorbo before being changed into what someone wants them to be, this can be corruption kink as well.

Blorbo dresses up for a fancy event and there's emphasis on how specifically they look, or maybe blorbo is looking at someone else and thinking about how THEY look in their formalwear: sometimes this is just description and/or the author likes textiles. I have also read things where I think the author would get a lot of joy out of pursuing the formalwear kink tag.

Blorbo finally gets told that they did a good job and everyone is complimentary or a specific trusted figure is complimentary, they're appreciated and loved and good: sometimes this is just someone writing a fantasy of blorbo being appreciated. Sometimes this is praise kink. If blorbo is being held by their parent or mentor or trusted elder sibling who is telling them that they're good, everyone is wrong about them, they know that they're good, this could be praise kink.

Touch-starved blorbo finally is given good touch and they are overwhelmed and don't know how to handle it and it feels so good: I did even know this was a thing until I asked for examples, but a friend let me know that this falls under the "touch sensitive" or "sensation play" umbrella. If you have spent time in a touch-starved tag, you have almost definitely seen this.

Blorbo is overwhelmed and bursts into tears and either cries a lot or heavy narrative weight is placed on them crying at important moments when it all becomes too much: this is not always, but can certainly be, dacryphilia.

Blorbo fucks up and is made fun of by all their peers, placed on centre stage and just mercilessly mocked: sometimes you are just whumping the character, and sometimes this can be humiliation kink.

Blorbo is tickled. That's the whole scene/fic. Okay so you actually may know this if you cruise character tags, but tickling is a kink and there are several blogs devoted to it on this website. If the whole point of this scene is the tickling, the character losing control and being overwhelmed, the person doing it to them having them at their control— this may be the kink.

Blorbo just keeps sneezing at inopportune times, they keep losing control and can't keep themselves from being overwhelmed by this: this can be sneeze kink.

Blorbo has finally made it to safety, maybe after a time of privation and starvation, and then there's whole scenes with an emphasis on how much they eat, how full and round they're getting, maybe them eating to the point of getting sick, maybe burping, maybe them having difficulty moving because of how much they've eaten. Food as part of recovery or safety can just be a healing trope, and food as a metaphor for love and community is a favoured tag of many of us in the fandom, but if the emphasis is especially on the eating and the getting full, how full the person feels, how much they can eat— this could be feederism.

Blorbo is injured or killed and there's a huge emphasis on the wounds, dismemberment, focus on gore and how bad it is and how much they're coming to pieces: this can be guro. If the person dies at the end of it and there's emphasis on that, this can also be snuff. Or maybe it's just gore/MCD, but some fics and some scenes dwell on it in such a way that you start to ask if this is intended to be horror or if something else is happening.

Blorbo is dressed up beautifully and looks so good in their new outfit, maybe to the point that the person who dressed them doesn't want them to move, just sit and be admired: this can be dollification, or kinking specifically on being dressed.

Blorbo is going through a medical examination and specific focus is placed on the impersonal aspect, being manhandled or examined by tools or gloved hands, they are the somewhat-dehumanized medical subject of professionals: this is sometimes horror or dehumanization, but it can also be medical kink.

Blorbo and blorbo's friend are ride or die beyond reason, they're a crew, they're found family (not biological), there is Two Of Them (or Five Of Them), they have each other's backs to the end. So loyalty is just a great character beat to hit that people have visited since time immemorial. You can also loyalty kink, when a person refusing to abandon their person(s) just hits just right. I'm not saying that everything under the found family umbrella falls under this, cause it doesn't, but if you have a particular attachment to works tagged [blorbo] & [blorbo] are best friends, or Loyalty, or crew as family, or [blorbo group] is a family but exploring nuclear-family aspects of this is not what makes a fic light up neon in your mind, it might might be worth considering if this is something you'd want to add to your list of likes.

Blorbo is really good at their job, and either respected for it and save the day with their skills or underestimated and show everybody by having the perfect skill at the right moment. More people are tangentially aware of this because of the TV show Leverage, which popularized the concept of "competence porn", or "non-sexual examples of scenes of people being very very good at their job but just makes you oooooo nice job", but if part of what draws you to a character is their niche skillset, or you enjoy stories that turn on characters being masters of their skills, competence kink might be something that resonates with you. Note, this sometimes just overlaps with power fantasies, because not everything in the BAMF [blorbo], tag is focused on competence per say, but if you really love your fave character being skillful, (or alternately, fics in which they are rendered powerless or pathetic tend to grate on you), you might want to explore the competence kink tag.

Blorbo is captured or pinned and rendered unable to breathe, and there is focus on pressure building in their chest, only being able to gasp for sips of air, or the person choking them having power over them, and this is presented as a narrative climax of a scene. This is choking kink, or breathplay. Also can be noted when there is particular narrative fascination with a character's hand at or on another's neck, even if pressure is not being applied.

Blorbo enters the narrative as a dude and is turned into a woman or treated as a woman, whether willingly or unwillingly, and finds this to be either a positive or negative experience. So this is sometimes a gender exploration that is deeply personal to the creator. Sometimes this is forcefem, or forced feminization. Sometimes it's both—exploring that tension between different gender paths can be both emotionally fulfilling and kinky for someone, and that's fine. And again, this can be played for horror or euphoria, but both aspects, if treated a certain way, can be kinky. This is related to a whole family of gender play concepts— for example if dude!blorbo is just dressed in traditionally feminine clothing but is not treated as a woman either by characters or the narrative, it could be crossdressing. If blorbo is a woman being turned into a man, it could be forcemasc. I want to emphasize again that breaking down gender lines is often something someone embarks on for their own gender reasons— AND it's a popular trope across many forms of media— so it's not always a kink. But it's useful to point this one out both because if you bring it up outside of circles where it's normalized, it may not be viewed as appropriate, because these are not the bog-standard ways that everyone approaches gender, presentation, identity, societal expectations, etc, and also because if someone out of the blue asks you for this trope, it's good to be aware that they might be, (whether knowingly or unknowingly), asking for fetish content.

__

So. As you can see. There are a lot of possible kinks that can be handled in a platonic way, but this doesn't mean they aren't kinky. This isn't even everything possible, this is just what came up when I asked the group chat what they personally have seen where they feel that a platonic fic could have used additional tagging.

I am not saying that any of this is wrong to be interested in these kinks, either. People get wired a lot of different ways and sometimes you just feel a certain way about formalwear. Or bondage. Or vore. Or tickling. My point is just that if any of this resonates with you, you might want to consider adding extra tags to your work (you don't even have to tag "humiliation kink," "humiliation" works just fine), and you also might want to consider checking out some tags, because there is probably a vibrant community of people who also like that and who would both love your work and would love to share their work with you.

That's it. Go with god. Now if people are going to be in my notes going HOW CAN SOMETHING PLATONIC BE KINKY I have something to link them.

[hirukochan]

Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut

Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.

Severus and his sunshine

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

warnings: Smut, loss of virginity

Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle. 

It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!

“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.

“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.

You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink. 

Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour. 

One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.

This you can’t seem to figure out. 

He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war. 

Emotions are not Severus’ thing.

His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.

He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.

You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready. 

“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”

“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie. 

Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.

But not in a bad way.

He looks good. 

Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.

His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.

So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend. 

You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.

Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.

Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.

You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.

You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work. 

You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.

Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.

During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.

You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.

“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.

“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.

“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”

“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint. 

“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.

“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.

“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.

Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you. 

“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-

“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.

“As I said - I am here with someone.”

“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”

“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.

That’s right.

Severus is different.

He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.

“Let’s leave, Sev.” 

“Come on, gorgeous!”

“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”

“Sev.”

“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

“She does not need you for that-”

“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that. 

The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!

Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.

“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.

“Mh.”

“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”

“Drop it.”

“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”

“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”

“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”

“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.

“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”

“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.

“He made you cry!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean. 

Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.

“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.

“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”

“I thought you’re tired.”

“Say it.”

“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.

“You sound like a spoiled child.”

“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”

“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.

“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad. 

“Black’s a bastard-”

“This is Warren all over again!”

“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.

“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”

“I-”

“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it. 

You have always been Severus’ safespace. 

He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting. 

Why can’t he tell you this?

Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod. 

You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.

You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.

“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”

“Sunshine-”

“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings. 

Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver. 

“I love you.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely. 

Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.

“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. 

You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner... 

And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-

“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I thought you love Lily.”

“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”

Severus loves you.

Has loved you for years.

Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.

Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.

Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips. 

As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him. 

You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.

Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.

Everything is good.

“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you. 

He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.

“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.

He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?

“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.

“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.

Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.

The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.

“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.

“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”

“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here…”

“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.

“Warren-?”

“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.

“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.

“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”

“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”

“Me?”

“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”

“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.

“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile. 

He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.

You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.

“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.

“Severus-”

“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.

“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”

“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.

“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”

“It will.”

“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.

“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you. 

You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.

You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.

“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.

“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.

He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.

“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.

Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.

He loves you.

You still can’t believe it. 

“Sev!”

“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.

“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans. 

“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.

“Sunshine-”

“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.

“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.

When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.

But he’ll never lose you.

You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time I will not-”

“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”

“Sun-”

“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”

The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.

“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind. 

Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.

“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.

Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long. 

It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure. 

Severus is not good with words.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.

“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.

To you he is worth it.

He always was and will always be.

You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.

“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.

He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.

“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”

“Sev-”

“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder. 

You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.

Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.

“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.

“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.

“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.

“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”

“Hmm…very metal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you get it then?”

“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.

“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”

“Idiot.” You giggle.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Cum inside me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.

His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Severus!”

“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”

“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises. 

Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.

Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.

You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.

Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”

“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.

“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow. 

“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”

“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw. 

So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.

“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”

You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you. 

You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.

You send an owl to Dumbledore.

You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.

Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.

“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”

“Together?”

“Together. I love you, Severus.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

[16wolke11]

PENGUINS-Ollie Bearman

A/N I hope you like this pretty random shot of Ollie

WORDS: 1519

SYNOPSIS: When Ollie is drunk he likes to ramble. Todays topic: Penguins

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It's a late Sunday evening after a long race weekend. The drivers have either already left for the airport to get as much time at home as possible, are finally resting, or are at this party. Even though all of them are pretty tired after the adrenaline of the race has calmed down, some of them are still going strong. Some linger on the dance floor, others just sit around, talking with each other, most of them with a drink in their hand, not caring about keeping up their picture-perfect behaviour for the media.

Since I am working with Prema in the supporting junior categories, I do know a fair amount of the drivers, helped them achieve their dreams, or just was with them one step in their journey. Because of that, I end up at those parties pretty often. They know they can be themselves around me, and I am glad they feel so relaxed with me being there, even though I am not in their driver bubble.

"Hey." A tall figure comes closer to me, and I don't even need to see him properly to know who it is.

"Hi Ollie." I smile at him, having to look upwards because he is towering over me. He is swaying lightly on his feet, and I am pretty sure he is drunk by now, eyes glossy and struggling to focus on my face.

"You're different." Ollie just blurts out before taking a sip from his drink. I raise my eyebrow, kind of used to his strange behaviour, but this kind of approach is new.

"Am I?" I ask him and tilt my head slightly to the side, having no clue in what direction this conversation is going to turn, while Ollie just nods.

"Yes, you don't just talk about normal stuff, but also about the weird things people say." He blabbers, and I need to suppress the grin coming onto my lips, already knowing this will be one of the weird kinds of conversations.

"Well, I try to be a good listener." I shrug my shoulders while being honest. Thinking that it is important to listen to people, even though their topic might not be my favourite. For example, encouraging a child to speak about their favourite dinosaur or a drunk Ollie and Kimi trying to explain to me the concept of something they came up with.

"And even though you said some strange things before, I kind of like it." I add, telling him the truth. Sometimes a good chat while being more or slightly less drunk is all you need.

"Strange, huh?" Ollie huffs, crinkles his forehead, like he has to think about it, before a goofy smile comes onto his lips.

"I guess I say some weird stuff sometimes." He admits before one of these stories comes to his mind and his eyes light up.

"Like, do you remember the time I told you about how I would be a great superhero? I could like... bam, save the world with a slice of pizza or something." Ollie fulfils a mimicked throw of a pizza slice, spilling some of his drink over his hands, but he doesn't even notice.

"I think your idea was to throw it like a boomerang. But sure, a superhero with pizza powers would certainly be interesting." I nod along, remembering this conversation pretty well. How he imagined the different flavours having different benefits for his attacks.

"Pizza powers were a good one." Ollie sighs, smiling proudly at the memory, only being quiet for a short moment before speaking up again.

"But you know what? I've been thinking," Ollie pauses, now sounding pretty serious. "I think I am onto something."

"Something deeper." He adds, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek to suppress the laugh. If it is at the same level as pizza-powers, I am curious about what he has come up with this time.

"What's in your head now?" I ask him, knowing I encourage him even more, but that is probably a big part of our friendship.

"Have you ever... have you ever thought about penguins? Like really thought about them?" Ollie asks, and I just blink at him while he continues.

"Not just pictures, but the wild ones." He adds, leaning forward a bit, while he gestures with his free hand. Then he wraps his arm around my shoulders, clumsily pulls me closer, before ending his speech.

"I think we should think more about penguins. A LOT more."

"Penguins?" I ask him, struggling a bit to keep standing straight because he is leaning his weight onto me, and I am not exactly tall enough to support his body. "Uh, okay... what do you mean exactly?" I ask him, eyeing our surroundings for an empty couch or something where I can let him sit down safely.

"They are this tiny tuxedo-wearing," Ollie starts, missing one word while his hands are gesturing around. "Creatures," he finally adds.

"They waddle around cute and stuff, but they are also like SUPER deep, you know?" Ollie asks me but doesn't give me a chance to say something before continuing his penguin speech.

"They mate for life and wander through ice and snow to find their... what's the word again? Their soulmate or whatever." He stares at me for a moment, before dropping his voice like he is telling me a secret.

"Like, that's what we humans should be doing."

I stare at him for a moment, trying to process all the things he just told me. "Wait, so you think we should be more like penguins? That's your idea?" I ask him with raised eyebrows, still struggling under his weight, but suddenly he is standing up straight again.

"You get it!" Ollie exclaims, clapping his hands once, a wide smile on his lips.

"We don't appreciate them enough, and we should talk about them more."

"They bring a gift to their partner, a little stone." Ollie pauses, trying to create a dramatic build-up, but it is rather hilarious seeing him sway on his feet while holding this passionate speech about penguins.

"I don't even know if someone would like getting a stone, but they do it. Searching for the perfect one in the frozen world, deciding which one is the perfect and... okay, maybe not the dramatic search, but still." Ollie's words are slurred, but I do my best to follow his explanations, finally breaking into a smile.

"So, you want us all to give stones to each other? Like romantic stone gifting?" I laugh softly, not about his idea, because it is really cute, but just about the fact that he knows all this stuff in a drunk state.

"Yes!" Now Ollie beams, probably picturing the scene in his head right now.

"It's not about the stone, the gift, but the effort. The thought and the commitment." Ollie explains, and my heart warms up. It is comforting to think about true love between two creatures being sealed by something as simple as a stone.

"Penguins don't worry about the best stuff," Ollie continues. "They're just giving their hearts away in the form of a stone. I can't even walk to the kitchen without tripping, and penguins?" He has to stop because he has to hiccup. "They are penguin-ing through life and being awesome." Ollie nods to underline his own words, and by now the smile is plastered on my lips.

"Okay, I think we've established that penguins might be romantic creatures, but maybe we need to tone down the penguin obsession for now. And I think you've had enough to drink, don't you think?" I tell him, trying to reach for his drink, but Ollie just holds it higher, so that I can't reach it.

"You don't get it." Ollie pouts, attempting to cross his arms, but then realizing he can't do it without lowering his arms again.

"Don't you ever just want to be a penguin?" He asks me with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Forget about the stress, no bills, no deadlines. Just waddling, sliding on your belly, and gifting your favourite penguin a stone." Ollie sighs, looking into the distance, and my heart aches softly. His whole speech about penguins probably has a deeper meaning with him wanting a partner for life or something like that, but at the same time, it is pretty hilarious.

"I just want to be a penguin, a free-waddling penguin." He pouts again, and I stare at him with a grin.

"I think you had too much to drink." I state again because if I am certain of something, then that Ollie shouldn't finish this drink and especially not get another one after it.

"Maybe." Ollie admits, lowering his arm, but still caught in his little penguin daydream.

"But we need to talk more about the penguins, we're not done here." He grins, eyes sparkling with passion.

"We are just getting started."

And I am sure the rest of my night will contain a lot of facts about penguins, a drunk Ollie, and memories that will brighten up any dark moment.

[wrongbodies]

The Mindweft

Intro: The Mindweft is a bit of a darling creation of mine. If you look at Choose Your Own Change's website, you can find my original stories there. It's an idea I have been cooking for a while, and I'd like to try making a fresh new story here. Weft refers to, when using a loom, the criss-crossing of threads. I am hopeful that you will see why I call it "The Mindweft."

Friday nights among Martin's friends were often spent playing Super Smash Bro's or Mario Kart. Despite the range of personalities among the four, they all preferred to hang out and geek out rather than get stupid drunk at some sweaty frat party.

Occasionally, Leo would join his soccer team friends for some late night hijinks, but he was more reserved than most of those boys. He was content to hang out and then hook up with a random girl after 1am. Martin recognized that Leo was a beautiful man, so he fully understood how he could pull such attention.

Martin's other friends, Kevin and Billy were also unique enough that it might seem strange of a friend group to be so eclectic. Kevin, his stocky but strong friend, had become a gymrat back in high school and was ripped. He was short, sure, but his muscles attested to the devotion he gave to working out.

Billy on the other hand was a string bean, tall and gangly. He was also a brilliant musician, always willing to bust out an instrument to play something or other. He was chill though, in that he didn't try to steal all the attention with his music skills.

And then there is Martin, the fairly average guy who was openly gay - but very unlucky with dates or hookups. He tried, he just doesn't have much charisma. His friends tried to "gas him up" but it wasn't effective. He had made a fool of himself a few too many times now at the school.

So, things were typical for the friend group around 11pm that night in Martin's room. They sat around playing the video game, and generally cracking jokes amongst themselves, eating junk food, and drinking the cheapest beer they could get their hands on. All seemed fine until a knocking came on the door of the cramped dorm room.

Martin got up and answered the door, puzzled who could be knocking. It wasn't too loud, so it couldn't be the RA, he thought. Well, sure enough just outside the room stood Gray. Martin froze his face, not wanting to give away his general disdain for Gray.

Gray stood before him, his acne-crusted face, dorky glasses, and bizarre mish-mash of clothing screaming "ultra dork." His hair was short, but somehow still discernibly greasy. Even his glasses were smudged with grease.

"Hi Martin! What are you guys up to?" He asked, nasally voice grating on Martin's ears.

"Oh, um - we are just having a little friend kickback in here." Martin said.

"Cool! I love Smash!" Gray said, somehow slipping under and past Martin's arms as he tried to keep Gray out. When Martin turned, he saw his friends giving him a distinctive look. Yeah... he was sure they were annoyed Gray was here. They were polite to him, because clearly he had a lack of social skills. He also clearly lacked much self-awareness.

The group begrudgingly let him join their game. He was terrible, but he nonetheless was loud and boisterous. Even if they got into it a little bit, enjoying the games, he had a natural ability to make it weird for them.

After an hour, the vibe was shifting and Martin could tell his friends were interested in leaving. Gray on the other hand stopped the game and looked around. He seemed to be working himself up to something.

"Have you guys ever heard of the Mindweft?" He asked. Voice taking on a somewhat mysterious tone.

"The mind-what?" Kevin asked.

"The Mindweft." Gray restated.

"No, I can't say I've ever heard of it." Martin added.

The rest of the friends nodded in agreement, mumbling their negative answers.

"Well, it's the coolest thing ever. I can show you if you want?" Gray asked.

"Wait, what even is it?" Leo inquired.

"Ok, you know how like dreaming is sometimes so real, like lucid dreaming?" Gray explained, looking around. "The Mindweft is like a lucid dream, but we all are together and conscious in the same dream."

"Is this metaphorical? Or can you actually gather us into a dream? How do we even get there?" Billy asked.

"We have to meditate together. I can lead us into the Mindweft." Gray gestured, laying down.

"What are you doing?" Martin asked.

"We have to lay so our heads are near each others. Then I will help us into the Mindweft." Gray explained.

The guys rolled their eyes and grumbled, but they decided to humor Gray. Soon, all of them were laying in a strange circle with their heads nearly pressed against one another. As soon as the last person was in place, Gray started saying some strange things. Words that Martin or the others didn't recognize.

After a while of the chanting, everyone felt their eyelids getting heavy. They were each drifting off into sleep, and the sensation was soothing. And then, their eyes fully closed, and Gray slipped into the Mindweft a moment after them.

When the group came to, they saw before and all around them the strangest sight of ever. They stood in a void, with glowing strands all around. They saw each other, looking much the same as they did in the waking world. Gray appeared next to them, already grinning like he won something.

"Wow, I thought you were just fucking with us..." Leo said, softly.

"I wouldn't! Welcome to the Mindweft." Gray stated, grandly sweeping his arm towards the void.

"So, what do we do?" Martin asked.

"Well, we can view other peoples dreams, mostly. But... there was something more interesting that I learned about." Gray said, an unpleasant smile spreading across his face.

"Ok... what is that?" Martin asked, skeeved out.

"Well, when you want to leave the Mindweft, you conjure up a door. That door leads to your mind. Try it with me." He concentrated, and behind Gray appeared a door. It was unique, splattered with paint and a little crusty around the face of the door.

The rest of the guys focused, and sure enough, doors materialized behind each of them. Each door was unique to the individual. They even featured their names on them.

"Ok, now that we see the doors, here is the interesting thing." Gray said, clearly antsy to get to the next part.

"When we walk through our own door, we just wake up in our body. However, if you walk through someone elses door... you become them!"

Kevin looked skeptical. "So you mean if I step through Billy's door, I will wake up in his body? What happens to mind?"

"Well, someone else would slip into yours, of course!" Gray said, excitedly.

"Do we even want to do that?" Kevin asked.

"I mean, it does sound kinda interesting." Billy admitted.

"I wouldn't mind a change." Leo said, looking at Billy and Kevin a little too closely.

"I guess..." Kevin huffed.

"So it's decided!" Gray announced. "Each of us will step through another's door."

Martin grimaced, but nodded. "Who is swapping with who?"

"I want to swap with Billy." Leo said. The two exchanged a weird look.

"Well, I want to be Leo." Kevin said. He looked at the other two.

"I guess I could be Kevin." Billy said.

"Ooooh, a 3 way swap. I like it." Gray said. "That leaves me and Martin."

Martin died inside, he was sure. He barely tolerated Grays presence, let alone being inside his body. He was just going along with it, but he didn't have to like it.

"Ok, go ahead and go through the doors." Gray commanded. He strode right over to Martin's, and opened it. He didn't even look back as he vanished into a darkness behind the threshold, and then the door dematerialized.

"I guess I'm doing this." Martin said to himself. He walked up and threw open Grays door. He took a few steps in and then was waking up, still lying on the floor of his dorm room.

The room was aflutter, as each guy sat up and immediately realized their body was completely different. Martin confirmed his own swap when he patted down his torso, feeling the scrawny chest of Grays weak body. He started to feel his face, the grease undeniable across his cheeks.

"Wow!" Gray shouted, looking down his pants, or rather - down Martin's pants. "Nice cock, Martin!"

"What the fuck dude, don't do that!" Martin snapped.

"Hey, I'm just getting acquainted with my new machinery." Gray said too awkwardly. He smiled, but his smile didn't look like Martin's did, it was crooked somehow and insincere.

The other boys were all laughing amongst themselves as they felt their bodies up. Martin, on the other hand, stood awkwardly by the door. He was rapidly getting a bad feeling about this.

To be continued...

[mandy-asimp]

Florida Secrets

Jennifer Jareau x reader

The request was to base it off of touch tank by quinnie. Idk if I got lost deep into plot or waaa but there is references to the song.

Warnings: language, smut, teasing, alcohol usage (everyone's legally dw, ik you were)

For @emilyswhore sorry it took me like pushing 3 weeks I love getting lost in plot to avoid smut sometimes😭😭

You're too good of a friend, that has to be your issue. You put yourself in the friend-zone because you're such a good friend. Even now as you were up before the sun helping the Jenifer Jareau pack up the car to begin the drive down to Florida. Everyone was planned to meet before dinner at eight the same night. Not to forget how you offered to drive first so she could sleep longer.

She had tried to fight you on it, saying she'd take the first shift but with how quiet you were in the morning she knew it wasn't going to work in the end. You were quiet enough to get the keys before she'd even noticed.

"Alright, its just locking up then we're on the road. Do you need to stop for a coffee or anything?" She stood next to you at the back of the car. Searching your tired face to see if you really could drive first. "Hun if you need me to drive first I can. I've stayed up and driven many times before."

You shook your head, "no, no it's fine. I enjoy the emptiness of the highways and what not. I just had an energy drink on my way here." You were being honest if anything, it's all you needed to stay up the entire drive.

"Well you're only driving half the way there, so one was probably best for you. Help me do one more check that everything is off, locked, and unplugged." She pointed at the door before leading the way. You followed closely behind her only parting when inside. You took the upstairs as she did downstairs.

It was quick and simple. Until you got lost in her study, she had a picture of her and Henry on the desk. You adored her boy, he was a spitting image of her and also not to brag but you are his favorite amongst the team. It warmed your heart seeing all the love she had just in that picture.

You quickly pulled out of your trance as the wooden steps creaked under the footsteps of another. "You ok up here?" You heard her voice call.

The room being set, "yeah just making sure." You responded before stepping into her view. "Upstairs is all set. Henry with Will?"

"Yeah, he went Wednesday night. I just owe Will a vacation week in return." She began to descend back to the car. "Which isn't a bad thing or anything, but it's just what the playful terms were for this trip. This trip is just very adult based anyways so bringing Henry just didn't seem responsible."

"Jennifer Jareau, the responsible and reasonable mother of the FBI. Who will be coming out on this trip though? You have no responsibilities. I know I'm to be a different person." You had opened the passenger door for her once out at the car.

"So you really are going to keep up with Penelope the entire time?" JJ had gone for a teasing. "She's been dying to get your mysterious self drunk. Hoping to get out some of those secrets she can't find. Even the ones that pop up in your background check."

You threw the car in drive with one swift motion before raising a brow. "You ran a background check on me?"

"Only after a few weeks of learning nothing really about you. We got curious one girls night and it's muscle memory to Penelope." She flashed you a bright smile. "So, will you be spilling your guts?"

Your head shook again as you chuckled. You left the question unanswered as a peaceful silence already settled as you hit the road.

~

5 hours in and it was 10 am. JJ was still peacefully asleep next to you. You had made it into South Carolina without her waking once. It gave you the mindset she'd sleep through the rest of the state.

If she did you wouldn't mind though, you knew she worked hard. And with the last few cases she had been worked even more than anything. JJ needed this vacation and it showed in her stillness.

Although you were extremely surprised when she slept right till your pit stop at a the next town for a bathroom break. Quietly you had snuck in and used their restroom while getting snacks and drinks.

Took you no more than ten minutes but ten minutes must've been too still cause the blonde was awake on your return. "Do you need the bathroom?"

She let a groan slip through her lips first, "what state are we in?" She questioned after, rubbing the remainder of sleep out of her eyes.

"South Carolina. We're about half way through it. Also the four are behind us, texted them while inside if they wanted to meet for a lunch at Chilis or something. Aaron and Jack are leaving Sunday, Halley wants to see him once more before he comes. And Rossi said to make up for not coming he's planned something for everyone for Monday." You locked the car and walked with her back inside, knowing she didn't need it but you couldn't help it. When you were in there some guy had given you the creeps, so maybe you were just being some extra protection.

JJ hummed lightly, "so that makes us what maybe a little of 5 hours in?" She noticed how you walked all the way into the bathroom with her. Staying by the mirror as she went.

"Almost seven. If you want I'll drive to Chilis and then you can drive from there?" You offered to finish your shift. Although secretly you had an agenda for Chilis. The team easily suspects you for not being a crazed drinker because anytime you did go out, you only would have like one drink and a shot. Unbeknownst to them you loved your solo pre-gaming.

"Yeah that's fine. You can sleep then before dinner." She agreed as she came out.

JJ stood infront of you as you stared at her through the mirror. Finally seeing what was really wearing and it made your throat dry up like a puddle on a hot mid-summer day. She was in a cute little baby tee that hugged her in ways she had to understand were illegal but didn't care anyways. Paired with plaid sleep shorts that showed off her perfect legs that shined in the sun. Ending with her navy blue converse. You scolded yourself, it shouldn't phase you as much but something calls out to you with every passing hour.

So lost in your thoughts you missed how she had turned and came up to you. She stood taller than you but toe-to-toe with you and she knew how to make the world bend to her. sometimes even by her own hand, literally. She cupped your cheek and made your head crane back. "You alright there? The tiredness already catching up to you or is it something else?"

Her tone tickled a nerve in the back of your mind. It was telling you to feed into it. Once that thought crossed your mind, an inner voice couldn't let it go through. Then Penelope's deal for this trip came in as well. It trumped all the opposing thoughts and soon you were leaning up close to her ear. Hands so subtly slipping onto her waist and pulling her into you. She gasped slightly as your lips brushed the shell of her ear.

"It could be either," you whispered before breaking the stance and leading out the bathroom. You missed how she smirked.

Although once you stepped out, your prediction came true. The same creepy man was standing in the isle with a perfect shot of the bathroom door. He was already staring at you, but when JJ came around you watched his gaze deepen.

By his first step, you were already making your move. A hand slipped into JJ's and you brought her close behind you as you started to walk out. Pushing her in front of you once at the door and the man was maybe five strides away.

You sent him a pointed glare as the blonde had kept waking forward. You also sent him the finger before making your own exit. It wasn't till you were in the safety of the car you could breathe. "God, I hate men." You rolled your eyes as you started the vehicle. Not surprised as the man had walked purposely in front of your car and stared even harder.

"Having issues with the state of South Carolina?" She poked your arm. Which all you did was roll your eyes, earning that beautiful laugh you adored.

Three more driven hours had passed and you had hit 10 hours in. Now you sat in a booth with the other four child-adults. You had the drink menu in hand already, making eyebrows raise in suspicion.

"Starting your party early?" Derek had made the knowing comment, pushing the menu down just slightly. "Thought you weren't even that big of a drinker."

You hummed while still letting your eyes roam over the menu. "Would you like to know a secret about me?"

"Yes!" Penelope shouted in response. Leaning forward to really watch your features to see if she herself could pick if it was a lie or not.

You smirked and finally looked at the table, you had them on edge. "I've shown up drunk to every night we've gone out. I'm a pregame princess to save myself spending so much at bars." There was a collection of 'no's as you nodded. "I'm a pro at acting sober."

"Oh..oh that makes so much sense on why one drink does it for you. Oh my god, sugar pea I thought I was going to kill you on this trip! How much can you drink before it's tap out?" Penelope was throwing out questions so easily, loving this opening up side already.

"The most I drank was my third girls night with you and Emily." You paused to give them a second to recount the day.

"Oh my god, it was a miracle you didn't wake up with alcohol poisoning." Penelope covered her mouth in horror.

Trying not to laugh, you continued. "While I did my shower and put curlers in my hair, I drank at least four drinks, then while we waited for you to get ready, me and Emily were prepping pregame with shots, then the actual pregame, then maybe adding like the seven drinks and three shots we did once we were out. I was really fucking drunk that night."

Penelope gasped as she remembered, "is that why you had whispered to not let you go home with anyone?"

"You almost went home with someone?!" Derek was shocked at this new information now. He gave his charming laugh and you were giving in and joining.

"Yes! But I knew I wasn't in the right mind for anything, also wasn't up for anything. I'm a reserved person if you couldn't tell," you winked at him.

The table buzzed with laughter and drinks the entire hour you guys stayed. Penelope wasn't driving at all, so she was keeping you going as well. Both of your cheeks had pink tints to them any time you both got caught giggling a little more than anyone else.

By the time you had finished eating, you both were equally five margaritas. Bless the person who invented bottomless margaritas.

"I assume you're driving back?" Emily questioned to JJ, watching as you sipped your sixth marg in one go, giving a challenging glance to Penelope. "Because by the looks of it," their eyes drifted to you and you could sense their stares. Your eyes drifted over, only for you to blush under JJ's gaze.

"You drove for ten so I'll finish it up." She spoke to you and only you. Maybe it was the fact these people knew you were already in a tipsy state that you didn't have to hide it.

Your head lulled to her shoulder and you sighed lovingly, a more affectionate side of you was peeking through. "I'll make it a fun ride," you stared straight at the wall. Ignoring the shocked expressions around you. "It's only five more hours anyways."

You didn't realize how you lifted your head and faced her. You were close again to her, a sneaky hand squeezing at her thigh. But you did realize the server bringing another round of margaritas.

"Oh god Pen! You do know we're also drinking at dinner right?" You giggled as you still took the colorful drink. "This is like our seventh one..." you sounded like you were complaining even as the straw was in your mouth.

The sober four shook their heads and laughed. Everyone finishing up their conversations as you and Penelope finished your last drinks. High-fiving once both glasses were empty.

As you and JJ were about to part, you couldn't help the urge to give everyone big hugs before slipping off with the blonde, giggling as you hugged her from behind. "You're a giggler when not masking sober." She had shaken her head.

"I'm the best type of drunk though baby, this is only the start." You smirked as you slid into the passenger seat.

Although you weren't expecting her to lean over the console and get into your space instead. "Yeah? And what type of drunk is that, hun?" She seared the image of you right here into her mind. How doe eyed your tipsy stare was.

A beat of silence went by and then suddenly you were challenging her by inching closer as well. Your eyes fluttering between hers. Words didn't leave your mouth though, just silently staying close to her.

"Mmm, I guess I'll have to ask at dinner." She declared before pulling back. You didn't notice the way her gears had turned, too lost in her ocean blue eyes.

~

You had arrived at the hotel, everyone right behind you as you check in. Earning key cards to the suites Rossi had managed for you all. There was two hours until dinner. Giving everyone the chance to nap or just relax for a bit.

You had chosen to nap off the rest of your lunch drinks so you could put down at dinner and at the club after. Penelope had texted you separately on the drive talking about how she was ready to push your limits. You couldn't back down and out now.

You swiped the key card, pushing the door open when it beeped green.

Unbeknownst to you, Rossi is indeed one skilled profiler. No matter how hard you tried to keep yourself quiet and under everyone's radar, he managed to pick you apart. What's worse was he had the nerve to tell you, but you didn't believe him. So he took this chance to really prove to you what he knew.

Hence the one bedroom with a king sized bed in the middle.

"Well there's only one bed," you had muttered by the doorway. Eyes glossing at the sight of the room, it was grand and beautiful. The walls were an actual color, soft green, and not a boring beige. Decorations of flowers were scattered everywhere and it had a warm breeze blowing in the white curtains. "Besides that, this place is really cute."

"If you think about it though, we're the only two who would share a bed." She nudged your side, finally seeing what you were oozing adoration over. "It's calming."

"The perfect feeling for vacation." You threw out, letting a beat go by before you were already flopping onto the bed. Sighing at how plush the covers and mattress were.

Eyes closed, you felt the bed dip next to you. But even with them shut, you managed to slip a hand around her waist and pull her close into a hug. "Thank you for finishing the drive." You mumbled. Not noting how your warm breath fanned her neck.

JJ was dumbfound in this moment. She didn't expect you to be a touchy person, at all. Mostly because of how distant you still seemed from the team, yet how close you had managed in the three years you had been there.

So this is how your hugs felt.

She was always able to count how many times she's seen you hug someone. The first was when the team saved Reid from Tobias Hankle. You were basically the first one to really hold him (even if it went long than expected). The second time was Penelope when she got shot. The third and final was Emily and Reid after Benjamin Cyrus. Now the fourth time was here, in this bed. With her.

The blonde wasn't going to let this moment go to waist, eager to get a picture of your still form, but when she moved you groaned. "No pictures. Let's just nap." You mumbled, lips moving against the smooth skin of her neck. You could feel her pulse on your lips.

"But how will anyone believe that you are a hugger?" She softly laughed at your antics. Her arms tightening around you as you tried to push her away now. It only made her laughter grow along with her hold. "Be a good girl and accept it," her words were in your ear and they were low and tantalizing. Yet you stopped moving instantly. Your body just going limp in her arms as she hummed contently. "Wasn't so hard now was it?"

You waited a second, " no," you managed. "But I think you enjoyed that a bit too much." You weren't afraid to be smart with her, the most she could do was push you off the bed.

JJ opted for crawling onto you however. Using her hand in your hair to roll you onto your back as she stared down at you. A magnetic smirk that you wanted to be pulled into to on her lips. "And what if I did? Hmm? You listened to me didn't you?"

Your eyes widened as your cheeks burnt up. You managed to sigh out your whimper thankfully. "That's cause you're strong and had a good hold." You conjured up something, anything. The way she said she did like it had clogged the gears in your head and you felt stupid the moment the words left your mouth.

"Well who wouldn't want to hold a sweet little thing like yourself? Can you really blame me?" JJ kept going. Her finger tips ghosting your skin so smoothly that you didn't know anything. "Even now, look at you."

Your heart was hammering in your chest, this couldn't be real. There's no way in this universe or the next that she's looking at you like she's about to eat you in one go, and she'll look pretty while doing it. "What about me?" You whispered, cursing yourself for sounding so meek. You were honestly struggling to think clearly.

JJ only flashed her canine teeth in a wide smile before getting off you. Slipping away from you entirely and just opening her suitcase to rummage through it. You were watching her while propped up in your elbows.

"I'm gonna shower so I can start on my hair at least before getting ready. Wash the car ride off my body, ya' know?" She had pulled out a few articles of clothing before entering the bathroom.

Well...that sobered you up enough. Which was in pro to pregaming, but you still decided to take at least fifteen minutes to sleep. Which was even better for your pregaming because everything settled through the nap.

You had eyed the mini bar when walking in and decided to start there. Grabbing a glass and ice from the freezer. You made yourself a pineapple mojito. That's when you realized that it was a perfectly stocked bar, mostly because when you picked up white rum there was a note from Rossi.

'I told you I knew you better than you thought. Enjoy your mixologist heaven - Dave'

You practically squealed in excitement and made JJ a drink as well. Finishing it up right as she came out, you were sipping yours as you extended your hand to her.

"Oh you were serious?" She raised her brows in shock. She was beginning to think you didn't process alcohol at all. "What's this?"

"Pineapple mojito. Dave gave me a full mini bar to drink from and there are several nights of this to come. So, you gonna keep up Jareau?" You quirked an eyebrow to her now. This was the confidence you need twenty minutes ago.

Her lips wrapped around the thin black straw and she took her first sip. Her blue eyes never leaving yours. She was glad she didn't look away, the growing smile on your face was worth it. Even if it came with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

As she lowered her glass you only slipped by her with your glass. Grabbing what you needed for your own shower. You were on your knees, the carpet feeling inviting under you.

You were oblivious to JJ standing right behind you. Her slender fingers slipped into your hair and she tugged slightly, sighing when your head pulled back and you made eye contact. "What else can you do?" She brought the straw to her lips. You mirrored her.

"I'm a self-trained mixologist. If that counts for anything?" You were joking suddenly. Two shots while making the drinks wasn't that smart (well it was for the pros of pregaming). You looked back to your suitcase, giggling at the secret personality they were about to witness.

The blonde couldn't tear her eyes off of you as you grabbed at fabrics and stood up. Take a finishing sip of your glass before staring up at her. "That's one, two happens in the shower." You showed her your empty glass.

It took JJ by surprise how fast you could drink. Even more for how fast you could mix up another drink. You took it with you to the bathroom, fully ready to go in, until you noted your lack of speaker. So like anyone else, you slipped your big shirt back over and went back to your bag. You ignored how quiet the room was even when you found it. You just turned on the device and began your playlist.

Fifteen more minutes had passed, giving you an hour to get ready. You slipped out the bathroom with everything in hand. Your hair was wrapped up, exposing how little the silk dress really was on you.

Right before starting your makeup, you had to make the third drink. It was routine at this point. You sang and danced loosely to the bar. Missing the way the three woman noted how free you were. How in your own world you could be.

"That's her third drink." JJ had mentioned to them. She had just dented her second one. "And she's a heavy pourer." She passed the glass around, both having reactions to how strong it was.

"Oh my- she's gonna kill us." Emily was genuinely worried. "Do we stop her?"

"No!" Penelope stopped the thought from being discussed. "This is the first night she's going to open up. I want secrets. And she's going to actually let us see her drunk."

Meanwhile you had finished your third drink and makeup. Smirking to yourself in the mirror as you knew what time it was. Princess Pregame was coming to shine the moment you were at the mini bar.

You slipped into safe green heels and grabbed the matching purse. Decorating yourself in jewelry before moving your party to the kitchen.

The playlist switched and you finally met the eyes of three women. "Good evening ladies, welcome to the pregame party." You wore a huge smile while gesturing to the other side of the counter. Pleased when they lined up. "Now, I don't know how you all like to party, but I like to start with a vicious shot." You raised four tiny glasses and a bottle.

To say they were instantly hooked onto this character was an understatement. The glasses clicked as you all threw back. You were already at the point that taste seemed irrelevant.

"Now, as for your predrink. I'm thinking," you started over by Emily. "Something strong for a strong woman. Now, I personally ignore the rules of mixing dark and light. Hangover, bangover honestly." You poured four dark shots before making Emily's drink. Handing her the glass and raising the small cups again.

Next was Penelope. "You, sugar, are in for the worst of it with me. I'll start you sweet, but don't be oblivious to how much is actually in here." You had made some sort of pink drink, along with four clear shots. "This is gonna be an eventful vacation!" You all threw back.

Last was JJ. Your cheeks heated as she stared in wonder at you. You leaned to match her pose, pushing your hips back to make a perfect angle. Your back curving graciously to their view. "What to do with a sweet little thing like yourself?" You imitated her from earlier. Your challenging smirk telling her you knew she was powerless here. "I'm thinking...savory. But with what, light or dark?" You turned to see what selection you still had. Eyes narrowing on the aged tequila. "Yes!" You exclaimed before mixing. Laughing lightly to yourself. "Jennifer Jareau, for being to sexy and distracting, I'm serving you a restraining order." You slid the orange cocktail over.

Now all three had a drink you felt something missing. "Oh and me! For myself, I'm thinking, something dirty." You eyed the pink bottle from Penelope's drink and decided. "Kinky blow pop." You nodded.

"I'm sorry what's your drink called?" Emily laughed, throwing her head back. "Kinky blow pop?"

"Yes. Kinky blow pop. You're drinking Whiskey smash, Pen's on a larger version of wet pussy shots, and JJ is on restraining order. Do most drinks I know how to make come with funny names, yeah but it's not my fault I like funny things." You rambled while mixing. Raising the pink glass and smiling. "To vacation ladies! What happens in Florida, stays in Florida!"

~

You felt a little silly stumbling back into the hotel, but with Penelope giggling beside you it didn't seem to bother you as much. Once by the elevator that's when you had all seemed to begin to part ways. Seeing as you all were kinda scattered about.

You and Penelope hugged everyone one last time before Emily and JJ were pulling you apart and to separate elevators. "She's a party, honestly love that woman. I love women in general but man Penelope knows how to party." You were star struck at the memories blurring through from the night.

"So it seems do you, that the type of drunk you were warning me about?" She wasn't as drunk as you were, actually you weren't even sure if she was drunk or not. You stopped watching her drink her sips when she caught you gawking.

Your hair shook over your face, "no that's only the start. There's still wine down to the night. Does the kind madam care to join me and try something new?" You had a daring gleam.

"And what does your wine down include?" She asked you, confused as what you were leading with. Each second that passed, another floor had gone by.

"It's a way to just truly feel everything you've drank and then some. Usually I do it alone but, since you're here with me," you knew even while wasted how your words were coming out. You knew you were being insinuating. Even in the gleam of your iris, you knew how to play these games.

The elevator dinged open and you lured her with one finger. You lead her right to the bedroom, pointing at the bed while you disappeared into the bathroom. Then back out, then back in with two wine glasses. Five minutes of silence pass and you're coming out in a robe gesturing for the blonde to follow you. "You can say no by the way, take the glass if anything."

JJ was greeted by a bath full of bubbles and steam coming off. "Your wine down is a bubble bath?"

"And wine. Can't forget the wine part of wine down. It feels nice to be naked, warm, and drunk. Clearly you've never tried it if you're asking questions." Your words were in a mix of sly and mumbles.

She went to say something but you were already slipping out the robe. Sinking in on one side and humming contently. Eyes closed as you just began to get lost in the feeling. The black void was even spinning.

JJ stood on the door and witness every expression. Her eyes moved on their own and stared at the small ink markings around your body. Her mind was still trying to figure out if this was the drunk you were warning her about? Was she going to meet this woman or was she a secret to be kept away forever?

Florida. Florida rules.

The deal whispered through her mind and suddenly JJ's bare body was sliding in behind yours. Not what you were expecting, you figured she sit across from you. You were too lost in the new skin to skin contact to protest.

Not too lost though, you still processed how her hands ran across your waist as she pulled you back into her. Her bare chest pushing into your back made your spinning pick up.

JJ's skilled fingers began working into your sides, massaging them so good your head just rolled back to her shoulder. You even let out a hum as you just felt your body melting into hers. She was so warm and inviting.

"Your skins so smooth, hun. You always do this?" She purred in your ear. Sending a shock down your spine.

"Self care is the second best care."

"And what's the first?"

"Aftercare."

There was a rocket in the tension. Her hands had stopped gliding across your abdomen, they stilled right under your boobs. You let a sigh slip out, and suddenly you were leaning forward. A subtle trail of coldness followed her fingertips as the hovered your ribs.

"Have you ever gotten any? Given any?" Your body made the effort to turn and stare into her eyes.

JJ blamed you being intoxicated for that pleading glint deep in your eyes. "Both a few times, given more than anything."

"Mm..I like that in a woman. Did you know that?" Your head tilted slightly over, staring at her in a newer angle. You came closer to her and her hands were back on you, this time holding your hips underwater.

"I did not. Does that mean you like me?" She quirked a challenging brow to you. Her answer was just a wide, blushing smile. It made her chuckle lowly. "So you're a tease when drunk?"

The word snapped something in your focus into place. "And what would you know about how I tease?" You were quick with your response, daring to get closer to her.

The sky blues seemed to darken with a storm as they narrowed at you. Silently asking if this was really the road you wanted to take tonight. However, even if it was JJ would never do anything while you were this drunk. What she was going to do was explore this new personality that Florida had brought out.

"Oh baby, I could tease you in ways you have never thought of. But we should get to bed, you should sleep some of this off before starting again tomorrow. And we'll grab breakfast so you have something to base your stomach." She threw out the morning plans while using her hand on your hip to push you back down.

Your eyes never left hers even as she stood up. You focused on your peripheral view as the soap suds began to slide down her body. Then she stooped down to your still kneeled form, a sinister smirk ready to corrupt your very being. "You look so pretty like this...on your knees for me... and god, those eyes how they beg for me.." Her pauses were filled with a lewd moan or gasp. "I can't wait to pull out those other sides you're hiding."

The blonde was gone as quick as she had been there, leaving you for only a second before coming back with a towel. You stayed silent as you complied with her help. "Are we...I dunno..." your thought was lost the moment she stopped to meet your gaze.

"Are we what, hun? Drunk? You more than me." She furrowed her brows. Getting ready to lead you out but you frowned and shook your head. "Well if you can remember while getting situated you can ask."

~

The warmth of Florida filled the room as you stirred awake. Getting ready to stretch your body fully out when you felt the weight of someone on your arms.

Oooh you knew exactly what you were about to open your eyes to. You easily pieced the trip, hangover, and body all together. Your left eye peeked open, finding the blonde already looking at you. Instantly you shut your eyes. "Oh...oh my god..."

"Good morning to you too hun, feeling last night yet?" She was already teasing you about it. Your eyes weren't even open and she was already joking.

"You would too if you had kept up..." your voice was filled with tiredness as you grumbled. Your head was still tucked down, and into JJ's chest.

You could feel the laughter rumble in her. It might've become your favorite feeling in the world. "I'll keep up with you for girls night. I want to see what your world looks like at the club."

This made your head pop up. A wide smile plastering your plush lips, "really? All the way from the first shot to the last sip?"

"Now it sounds like you're going to kill me." She furrowed her brows with a worried look gracing through her happiness. "It's what a few shots and some drinks for pre-pregame? I can handle it."

You tried to contain your sudden eagerness. "We should get breakfast." You switched the topic while propping yourself up. Now you laid on your stomach and rested on your elbows. Hair tossed over so you could actually look at the blonde.

JJ was enjoying already seeing you first thing in the morning. You seemed so loose and care free in this moment. Like you weren't awake enough to put on any masking personality. This was your raw self staring at her. "Derek is grilling on the beach for us today. They're already up and moving, but you were against getting up."

"That's cause we're on vacation. I'm not supposed to be getting woken up after drinking all night. But I do like the sounds of burgers so we should get up now." You were up before your sentence finished. Standing on the side and stretching your body out in the mirror. You were growing more excited to bask in the sun all day. Letting its yellow rays kiss against your skin.

JJ just gawked as you stood in nothing but a big t-shirt and panties. Her eyes lingered and your ass before jumping to your face in the mirror. She crawled over, knowing you could see her approaching and accepting it as you stood exactly still. "I don't know, maybe we should stay here all day and do nothing." She rose on her knees, arms wrapping comfortably around your waist and her head on your shoulder. "Clothes optional? Talk about those little tattoos?"

Your cheeks flushed but it was in contrast to your laugh. "What? Saw me naked in a bath one time and now you can't get enough?" You bite back bravely. Laughing even more at her shocked face. "Maybe Jareau, maybe you'll manage something this trip."

And as soon as you were in her hold and comparing her natural warmth to the same sun you'd thought about moment before, you were slipping away to begin getting ready.

Grabbing a hand full of pieces before finding your way into the bathroom. It gave JJ the chance to change out in the room as well. From her silk pajamas into her peach bikini. Covering it with a regular pair of jean shorts and a loose button up shirt she left open and tucked in.

Meanwhile, you had returned in a beige and green outfit. The top was brown and tied at the back of your neck. Paired with a flowing sage green skirt. It hung low on you, but your brown bottoms hung lower. Your hair was still down, but JJ didn't seem to think that an issue.

"Do you have the sunscreen or are they bringing it?" You were once again in your bag and pulling out sandals this time. Not paying much attention, honestly you were really looking forward to this burger, but you had almost ran into the blonde roommate.

Her hands in her pockets as she tried to not eat you right here while you look this cute. "That's a nice top, where's your cover up though?" She knew the answer already, but confronting you would give her something to tease out. Her eyes catching the smallest glimpses of ink.

"I practically glow in the sun, and I could use it. It's all I plan to do while sitting on the beach with my burger." You seemed in an extremely better mood once those burgers were mentioned.

JJ noticed it too as she just chuckled before giving you space to move again. Pulling a small beach bag out for both your stuff. You had put in headphones, sunglasses, and tanning lotion. Completely ignoring your phone over in the bedside table.

~

By two, you were practically drunk again with Penelope right by your side. Watching from a far all your friends have fun while the burgers slowly cooked.

"Ok, real talk, how drunk are you willing to get tonight?" Penelope had turned to you, blocking the sun with her hand. "Because last night you seemed pretty drunk."

"Last night is a horrible example of where I can get. I'm going toe-to-toe with the blondie over there. She won't drink with us now though, claims it'll ruin it for when after I take my nap to sleep all this off." You pointed to the cooler that had a variety of cocktails and drinks. "She's gonna know too much of my personality by the end of this trip."

"Hey! I wanna meet this personality! What does she know?" Penelope had whined. "Maybe we should've shared a room instead."

You laughed, "she knows that I'm truthful about my pre-pregame. She didn't know I did shots between while making the first drinks. Also she finally met me when I first wake up."

"Oh I love you when you first wake up! You're so sweet and warm. It's the perfect contrast to your mysterious work personality. Has she really never seen it before?" She took another sip of her melted, but still cool Bahama Mama. Smirking when your head shook no. "I bet she likes it. She got a subtle mess to her, but it's there."

"What? Penelope Garcia what do you know to say that?" Your eyes narrowed but playfully you were laughing. "I don't doubt it. I actually don't doubt that we'll kiss at least once. Too much tension."

Penelope squealed the moment 'tension' left your lips. Causing the group to turn from the water. The two of you were staring at each other deep in a conversation to them. But then they watched as you pulled a bottle of tequila out and poured out four shots. Passing two to the tech analysis before bringing limes and salt into view.

"Where was all that even at?" Emily couldn't tear her eyes away from the shore. Honestly feeling left out for not drinking with you both. "Also listen, the amount of drinks that thing can put down is insane. Cause that's not the agent I know and work with."

"Well no shit, she's not gonna drink on the job." Derek joked, raising a challenging look to the other. "You think they'll get in anytime soon?"

Spencer was quick to start giving a fact about drinking in heat and swimming. It was slowly dropping out however as they really watched you both take the shots like water. "Ya know, it's really interesting that they're still going in the sun is all I'm saying."

The four agreed and started heading back up. One with the intent to see how drunk you two actually were, and two to check lunch.

"Oh I see sobriety coming to crash our party." You tilted your head over, a sigh escaping your lips. "Before they get up here, I'm going to go to the bathroom and break my seal." You hummed out.

"Ooh let me come with you!" Penelope spoke, getting up without really letting you answer. You would've said yes anyways, it's her how could you say no to anything.

You both were moving before they got back to the towels, arms looped as you swayed to the small bathroom together. It was really only five minutes tops, or so you thought.

"It's crazy you two could spend ten minutes in there." Emily was assembling her burger before you.

Penelope had began to respond, but you were too busy rushing to JJ who was holding up a burger already for you. "Oh. Em. Gee." You beamed while settling next to her. "Y'all see this right here? This a mean burger and it's going down in my tummy." You showed off the plate.

There was a light conversation that carried you all through lunch. Some chip ins from you and Penelope as you mostly stayed silent and just focused on eating. You were proud to say that was the best drunk burger you've ever had.

After cleaning up, there was still a few more hours before you had to head back. From what had been mentioned, they were getting back in the water. "Are you two gonna join us or keep drinking?" Derek had raised the ball they were throwing around up.

"That's if they can keep themselves afloat." Emily poked your arm and watched as you so simply wobbled just from it. "Put some floaties on, Tanner."

You groaned at the name. "First of all, I'm a sun bather. Second of all, floaties ruin my glowing complex."

"What's a glowing complex?" Reid furrowed his brows, hearing a term he didn't fully understand what context it was in.

Without a second word, you were standing away from the group and literally glowing in the sun. The beams reflected off your skin just perfectly to give you the effect. But before you started to loose yourself in the warmth of the sun, you returned to the group.

"When I retire I'm gonna find the warmest place to live and sit on the beach every single day." You pointed out. "But I'm going to stay on the dry lands and keep drinking."

"Sugar, the water will feel good on your sunny skin. Help cool it from the hours of heat and drinking." Penelope protested though. "If not at least put more sunscreen on." She pointed at the bottle as she left, chasing after the others to the water.

You sighed and followed suit. Finding comfort in the warm ocean water as you waded your way over. "This isn't that bad."

"Did you know you tan better in water anyways?" Reid dropped the fact so casually as him and Morgan tossed the ball. It was a light hearted game, one Spencer could keep up with.

"I knew that, did you know!" Penelope started up her own quips. Her drink finger pointed the attention to you. "Six tattoos." She ratted you out. "That's why when we went to the bathroom we took so long. I saw one and wanted to see them all."

"Oh so you got some ink on you?" Derek caught the ball and became interested. "What got a heart tattoo with mom in the middle?"

"Shut up," you splashed a little of water his way. "They're small and barely noticeable. All hidden by mostly everything I wear anyways. Also eight, not six."

"Where else?! You showed me your hip, two on your back, thigh, arm, ear. Where are the other two?" Penelope would've stripped you and fully inspected your body if it was just the two of you.

JJ smirked, "side of each boob." Her tone was cocky as it opened so many speculations between the two.

"Get your heads out the gutter, we're in the same room and she's seen my boobs. So have those two." You redirected the attention.

"Yeah but there weren't tattoos five months ago. So, spill the story of your boobs." Emily knew how to throw it back onto you.

You shook your head and scoffed, "I'm not telling the story of my boobs. No matter how great they are."

~

During girls night you did in-fact tell the story of your boob tattoos. Explaining how you made a bet with an old friend who came to visit once and made a drinking bet. She knew you had always wanted a tattoo there so it worked out.

What wasn't working out was how much, yet so little, clothing you had on still. Along with another night of smelling like an entire fruit bar of drinks. You need a shower and a nice comfy bed.

"Are you holding up ok?" JJ was right there, arm slithering around your waist. Unbeknownst to you, she was glaring down this other woman from the table. She wasn't oblivious to how her eyes roamed up your exposed back.

You shivered in her touch, "'m fine. We should go dance," you slurred. In your state, dancing would distract you from the need to be naked.

Suddenly Penelope and Emily came stumbling back to the table. "So turns out...Penelope has reached a newer level and we're both hungry. So we're heading back and ordering food, would you two like to join us?" Emily spoke most coherently.

JJ rolled her wrist to glance at her watch, it clicked just past midnight. "No..I think we're gonna call it as well. No clue how she manages to act sober after all that drinking."

"It's a miracle you're still up with her." Emily nudged her arm. "We'll see you guys probably Wednesday for the beach day." They bid goodbyes, catching the first taxi they could back to the hotel.

When the blonde turned to face you, she was met by no one. Where had you gone? Her eyes jumped through the crowd, doing her best to pick you out. And when she did catch sight of you, her body heated as her eyes narrowed at the woman dancing with you.

You however, didn't seem to care for the tall ginger in green. Your eyes were lazily trained to JJ, willing her to come to you and sway with you. A tiny grin tugged on your lips as she did come up to you.

"Baby there you are, you can't disappear like that." She grabbed you, more firmly than before, and brought you in close.

"I told you...dance." Your arms wrapped around her neck and shoulders as your body moved with the music against her. "Tomorrow...I don't want to do anything but lay in bed." You spoke right under her ear. "Unfortunately will think I'm skipping wine down. I might throw up in the morning."

"That concerns me. What happened to be a pro at holding your alcohol?" She kept you in her space, hands tracing your exposed spine. "Do you wanna go now? It's past midnight as is."

You sighed and then looked at her, "can I tell you something? Something really secretive?" You were wearing such a glazed look. If you were sober-ish you'd question how JJ isn't as drunk as you.

"How bout in the morning, hmm? Let's get back and call it a night." She shushed you.

That night she did get you back into your suite, but after that she let you move on your own. She followed behind just in case you did start going down though. You didn't, you mumbled something about how you'd never go down no matter what. All while stripping from the makeup and fabrics that covered your entire body. You had crawled into bed in a tank top and your panties. Blacking out almost instantly once you hit the mattress.

~

"JJ," was out your lips before your eyes opened. "Is there a garbage can next to my side of the bed?"

"No, baby get to the bathroom." She hummed, helping you get up and to the toilet before you missed.

The morning was already an indicator of your day strictly in bed. Even once you had cleaned yourself up and flipped back into the covers. "Oh my god...I've never drank that much."

"You sent Penelope home barely conscious." JJ sat on your hips, massaging your shoulders. The sensation caused a subtle moan to slip through your lips. "You like that?" She whispered.

You hummed your approval, "what about you? You managed to get us back to the hotel." You felt her lips press into your spine, right over your tattoo.

"In confession, once I had noted how drunk you were I began to slow down and drink waters. You hardly noticed when I was giving you sips." Her hands were working so perfectly into your skin. They were warm and caring about what they were doing. "But it was for our safety in the long run. Now that I know that's what your nights are like, you're never leaving a girls night alone."

"What? Like you're gonna come home with me and sleep with me more often?" You rested your head on the side while looking back to her. She was already so close to your face.

"Wouldn't be the worst thing to happen would it?" She pressed her lips to your cheek next. Feeling them heat up instantly.

"You're a bigger tease than I am!" You exclaimed once your thoughts came reeling back. You did your best to flip over without loosing her against your hips.

She shook her blonde waves though, "a tease is all bark baby. I have bite and with how you keep looking at me, I intend to use it once before this trip ends."

Your chest started to rise and fall heavily. Shallower. Your eyes widen with need. With lust. "Who says once will be enough to suffice the both of us?"

"It never would be, I can tell you that now. If I got just one taste," her eyes flickered to your lips. Stalking your tongue as it darted out to wet them. The blue snapped back up.

The both of you stared at each other with intensity. It was you who closed the gap and tugged her down closer. Pouring ounces of passion into such a subtle action. The kiss itself only lasted a few seconds, but you could've sworn it had been minutes.

"Oh sharing a room with you just got a whole lot more interesting." She wore a Cheshire grin staring down at you. "I'll be gentle...when I want to be." She winked before snaking down your body.

There was a moment of silence when she stood on the side. She was placed right between your legs as your cheeks flushed meeting her lustful gaze. You could only think she'd be gentle with you. How soft her touches could be while still bringing you over again and again and again.

"You wanna order lunch to the room?" She dropped the tension. Yet you could see it in the way her canine flashed that this was just putting a pause to whatever had started.

"That'll take like thirty minutes." You propped yourself up on your elbows. "I'll be really hungry by then."

"I think we can figure something out to distract you." She winked. You smiled and waited silently as she placed the order. "Hi! Can we get..." she began but you couldn't help yourself. JJ stood staring at you in nothing but boxers and a blue button up. It was tempting you to undo each one. She was tempting you.

You crawled over to kneel up to her. Placing soft kisses to the corner of her lips before trailing them back to her ear then down the column of her neck. Relishing in her soft gasp between her words. Your fingers worked slyly at the buttons like you wished. "Yes, to room 273. Thank you so much!" She finished up and instantly sunk her fingers into your hair. "It'll be her in about thirty." She hummed lowly, like it was a warning to you.

Yet you missed it. You couldn't get enough of her, and it showed the moment you got to the last button and dropped lower on your knees. Placing open mouth kisses to her sternum. Feeling her heart beat only a few inches away. Your lips moved towards her boob and that's when she caught you. "Oh baby, that's a reward if you're good for me."

She met you in a more heated kiss that made your head spin and start to slip into a buzzed state. "I'll be good..." you mumbled into her. Staring wide eyed as she leaned away just slightly.

"I know you will, sweet girl. You've been waiting for this moment, haven't you? You wouldn't want to jeopardize it all now with some silly behavior. Would you?" She flashed that canine once more. Your brows furrowed, did she know more than she let on? "Dave gave us all very different gifts. Yours was a mini bar, mine was getting to rile you up in a shared suite on the opposite side of the hotel from everyone else. Meaning I could make you scream, shout, whatever I want and the team will never know."

Your heart was beating within your ears, your chest, and between your legs. She knew of your little crush all on her own...and she wanted to rile you up. "Please..." you gasped. It was like a wave of air hit you as your brain caught up finally. "Fuck JJ, please I want you so bad. Anything. Just say what."

"Oh there she is. So this is what you're like truly. A sweet little thing who just needs a good fucking. I should've know." Her warm hand cupped your cheek, "well, mommy's here now to help." You moaned at the self given title. Eyes widening into nothing but pupil. "Baby you just keep getting sweeter, don't you? Let's get you comfortable hmm? Out these pajamas so I can take a look at you."

Your head nodded and you fiddled with the hem of the tank, pulling it over your head but never breaking eye contact. Your cheeks turned pink as her eyes freely glanced down. You had stilled after that, leaving you in just the black panties as you settled yourself in the center of the bed by the top.

JJ had circled to the end, crawling over, no, stalking over your practically bare body. "Where do I even start with you? Where should I start with you?" You missed how the second question was asking for your opinion. She chuckled and joined you on the bed, on all fours coming to hover you. "Maybe I'll make my way down," she mocked your kisses from earlier.

Her chest had brushed against yours causing a whimper to slip through finally. "Mm..please," you sighed out as her lips wrapped around your left nipple.

All her actions had halted though, her eyes boring into yours. "Yes what, sweet thing?" She wanted to hear it from your lips.

Her fingers dragged along the waistband of the black fabric, settling in the middle and pulling them down slowly. Taunting your needs. "Please...mommy..." it was silent. You were lingering on the title. Trying to let it simmer in your own mind. After another beat, "mommy please, go down on me." Your hips bucked into her hand.

You'd never seen JJ smile like this. It was wide, caring, yet it was dark and cunning. You were about to be in for the ride of your life. She pressed a kiss to your lips. Kissing her way down your body once more, fingers in the waistband dragging them down and off your legs. Only to kiss from your ankles up and settling between your thighs. She looked so pretty going down on you.

You'll never forget how tender the touch of her lips was. It seared itself into your skin and made you crave for more. You wanted to wonder how many times you'll experience this. How much longer will she be gentle with you? Thoughts were disrupted the first swipe of her tongue.

"Fuck," you gasped inwards. She had done so little to work you up and yet you already felt on edge. Even as your hips wriggled, you just only felt on edge. She was licking you up so simply that it wasn't enough to push you anywhere.

"All worked up for nothing," her arm bridged over your hips, pinning them against the mattress, picking up her pace only slightly. "God, baby I could stay here forever."

You whined and arched up, desperate for more always. "More, mmm' need more mommy."

More she gave you, loosing the softness of her touch into devouring you. Suddenly she was flattening her tongue against you and sucking more of you in. Bringing her free hand around and slipping two tender fingers into your dripping hole. They curled perfectly and moved fast and deep. She hummed in approval as your whines had turned into full volume moans.

You heard her spit down against you, "oh and after lunch..I'm gonna fuck you so deep with my strap baby. I'll have you a mess all day long. Begging mommy to ease up, and when you do it'll be slow each time I work you over the edge." She was thinking out loud and it only fueled your senses to be so sensitive.

She dipped back down, giving a few last hard sucks before she felt you begin to quiver. "Like that...just like that mommy!" You came with a silent moan and your hand tangled into her blondes waves.

JJ gave a few more licks, just enough till your hand was pushing her away. Then she came and kissed your glistening temples. "Yeah, once is not going to be enough." You were still a bit fogged by the orgasm and the new look of mommy next to you. "Are you ok sweet thing?"

You didn't say much, just rolled into her side and made effort to roll her to face you. "Reward.." you mumbled. Not exactly sure what you were asking for. But when the blonde complied, you had pushed her shirt off her body and kissed over her heartbeat. Resting your ear right against it. "How long have you known?"

"That you'd have a mommy kink?" She poked your side before resting her hand against it. You chuckled out a 'shut up'. "When you drunkenly texted me you canceled a hot hipster threesome for me the night you came over and got absolutely hammered with me."

Your head popped up, "oh my god, did I really?!" You were finally back from your haze. Mortified now laced in your eyes. Her head nodded. "And you never told me?!"

"I didn't know how! I just left it as drunk confessions, the ones we never talk about." She kissed your hairline.

Just then a knock occurred at your door. Your smile widened and you couldn't help the sudden rush of energy. You reached over and grabbed the blue shirt and fiddled with the buttons. "You're lucky you were pretty going down on me, Jareau."

Finishing the last one before reaching the door and opening it. Only it wasn't room service. It was Emily and Penelope. "We wanted to join in on your lazy day. After last night...and rumor is, you two got the best suite." Penelope babbled, not recognizing the clear fucked out look you had going on.

"Oh....well we just ordered room service and still gotta get even semi ready for the day." You tried to divert it, knowing Emily had taken note of your tousled hair.

She smirked at JJ who had came up behind you in one of your t-shirts. "Penelope, maybe we should spend the day by the pool. Or maybe another day on the beach before dinner. These two look like they had just as much of a night as us."

"Or morning," you heard JJ's whisper so quietly. You could just sense the grin begin to plaster her lips. "But yes, this one woke up and first thing was that toliet."

"Oh my god, don't spill my business!" You turned to nudge her away. Rolling your eyes once you spun back to the two others. "Maybe we'll catch you guys before dinner though? No serious pregame, just a sip and chat before."

"Deal." Penelope finalized. She was leading off after a final glance over you and JJ. It wasn't till they turned the corner she pieced it together. "Oh...oh Emily..those two-"

"Oh yeah, for sure." She cackled at the blondes realization. They all knew it was bound to happen on this trip.

Meanwhile you and JJ shared your own laugh in the room. Pointing at the shirts that clearly belonged to the other as you headed back to bed.

You pressed a kiss to her cheek, "you really brought a strap?" Your eyebrows had quirked.

JJ smirked at you and hugged you closer. "I guess you'll find out after lunch." She returned the kiss.

That day you did find out a lot about yourself and JJ, but you wouldn't change it for the world. You'd mentioned to thank Rossi when you all got back, maybe he did know you better than what you'd believed. What else did he know?

[cryptomiracle]

more creepypasta headcanons

(+ marble hornets)

WARNINGS:

Ooc? Idk

I started this at 2 am and you can tell

Cursing

I write on my phone so the format may be a little weird

Any brands, games, or characters mentioned in this do NOT belong to me, nor am I sponsored by them in any way.

This is very unserious, I've noticed that a lot of my other hcs usually take a "dark" turn and so I decided to make some that didn't.

You could even say they're a bit... silly.

You should totally check out my masterlist for more hcs (it's pinned)

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Characters: masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, and BEN DROWNED.

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Jeff:

he's extremely hard headed, he WILL argue/fight with someone over the dumbest things and he'll never stop arguing, even if he knows the other person is right.

He has an "emo accent"

He likes to start drama between people, and then leave the crime scene.

He is so ashy you could strike a match off of his elbow

He's been wearing the same beat up converse since 2012, them things are being held together by duct tape and a prayer.

His favorite animal is a raccoon, he says they're sneaky and nocturnal like him.

He refuses to get a new phone, he won't even steal one.

He curses all the time just cause he can, sometimes he'll even jumble random curse words together.

BEN:

He listens to vocaloid and he doesn't play about miku

He runs one of those "rage bait" accounts that are painfully obviously bait

Still quotes old memes and refuses to let them die

Example: yeet, t-posing, and "sanic the hedgehog"

He scams old people on Facebook and e-daters, he doesn't feel bad about it either.

He uses the money he gets from scamming to buy v-bucks and overwatch coins

He once doxxed someone for dissing miku

slender had to take away his mic privileges because he was keeping everyone up at night by yelling bloody murder at people on fortnite/overwatch

once showed up at someones house because they emoted on him after killing him in game

Toby:

He vapes, and thinks he's so cool cause he can do "vape tricks" and he makes people watch him while he does them

Someone once gave him apple cider, told him it was alcohol, and he pretended to be drunk.

His phone gallery is filled with random photos, like there'll be a low quality picture of a tree and then right beside it a picture of a ceiling. Just random stuff

Mint chocolate chip ice cream enjoyer

He's really flexible, although he has bad posture he can do back bends, the splits, etc

more on his terrible posture; when he sits he literally looks like this: ) )

When he first started working for slenderman, he REFUSED to live in the manor and lived outside. While he lived outside he became friends with a lot of the wildlife, slender eventually made him move into the manor because there was a rumor that toby was going to make a "possum army" and try to overthrow slender

He will fight anyone and anything he really doesn't care about his, or their well-being.

Had a "weeb" phase when he was in middle school and he still has nightmares about "naruto running" away from his bullies.

Hoodie:

He can make a killer sandwich (lol) he's not the best at cooking other things, but if you get him to make you a sandwich, he'll bless your taste buds.

He loves karaoke, he can't sing for shit but he still does it anyway

He acts like a millennial (I'm sorry) not to the point where it's completely unbearable, but he will send people "relatable memes" every now and then

He enjoys online arguments, he'll never participate but he will scroll through different threads of people arguing for hours on end

He likes for people to say stuff like "GO WHITE BOY GO" to him

He blushes when he lies, he's a scarily good liar but if you ever want to catch him in a lie, point out the fact that his cheeks are red.

Whenever he has a drink with a straw, he holds the straw in-between his tooth gap.

he sends streaks.

Masky:

He has a NASTYYY side eye, and sometimes he'll scrunch up his nose while side eyeing someone just to make it sting even more

Contemplated getting a mullet once, he never went through with it though.

He coughs like someone's grandfather who smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for 40 years

If someone says a word that reminds him lf a song he likes, it'll automatically get stuck in his head and he'll hum it all day after that.

he isn't weak when it comes to stinky smells, but if it's stinky enough to make him gag he's extremely overdramatic.

he learned how to sew because of how much he ripped his jeans, shirts, etc.

Sleeps so hard sometimes people think he's dead, he'll just be laying there looking casket ready but everyone is too scared to check on him cause he gets super grumpy when woken up.

he always keeps a little money hidden somewhere, even if it's just a 5 dollar bill.

he's superstitious, if he sees you attempt to walk under a ladder he will physically drag you back and make you walk around it.

he has a pair of brass knuckles which he only saves for "special occasions" they're his favorite things ever, he even named them.

he only uses his phone to call, text, or search something up, and that's it.

he doesn't even have YouTube installed.

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I will be reading over this to check for any errors, ty for reading - M

[waughymommy]

Chapter 6: Thick as a 🧱 Brick

The sun had risen enough to shine its direct light through the kitchen window, lighting the table where Emily and I sat with our coffee. I blinked as I sat, my eyes slowly adjusting. The events of the previous night were still fresh in my mind, and I felt a knot of anxiety in my stomach as I anticipated the conversation that was bound to happen.

Emily took a sip from her mug, her eyes searching mine. I could feel her weighing her words, trying to find the right way to broach the subject.

"So," she began, her voice gentle but direct, "about last night... Was it on purpose?"

That was not the opening I had expected, and the approach I had planned in the shower had no answers to that. I hesitated, the truth hovering like a beautiful hummingbird on the tip of my tongue. My deeply-rooted sense of marital preservation gave the hummingbird-truth a horrified look, took it out back, beat it senseless, stuffed it in a dark hole, and then blurted out, “Of course not! Why would you think I wet the bed on purpose?”

"It's okay, Greg," she said, an amused look in her eye. "I know things have been tough, and sometimes… unexpected things happen. It’s okay."

I looked down at my coffee, feeling a mix of shame and relief. "I was just... drunk and… I don’t know."

Emily reached across the table, her hand warm and steady on mine. "We all have our… needs," she said softly. "The important thing is that you're willing to acknowledge them so we can work through them together."

I nodded, the knot in my stomach loosening a bit. "I am. I want to work through this, Em. I want to stop drinking. I want to reconnect with you."

Her smile widened, a genuine expression of hope and understanding. "Good. Because I want that too. We've been through so much together, Greg. I don't want to lose what we have."

I squeezed her hand, the familiar comfort of her presence grounding me. "Neither do I. I know I've been difficult, and I've pushed you away, but I want to change. I want us to be... us again."

Emily nodded, acknowledging me. We sat there for a moment. "You know," Emily said, breaking the silence with a thoughtful look, "I miss having someone need me. Abby's off living her own life now, and maybe... maybe you could help fill that role, if you're willing."

I blinked, surprised by her admission. "What do you mean?"

She laughed softly. "I mean, I think you need some structure and accountability in your life right now. You’ve kind of fallen off the deep end. And I think I need someone to provide structure and accountability for. It would help me feel better too. I need a project."

I nodded, thinking that I understood what she meant. "I can do that. It would be good to have some help not having that next beer."

Emily's smile was warm, her eyes filled with a renewed sense of connection. She reached over and laid her hand on mine. Her loving touch was soft, electric, caring, and possessive, all at once. She paused and we just looked at each other for a minute.

With an amused little smile, but not breaking eye contact, Emily spoke first. "Yes, I think I can help you get your drinking under control… I think you do need some help there. Remember, when Abby was younger and she wet the bed, we tried putting those rules and consequences in place?”

I nodded and laughed a little. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid, really. She did NOT respond to that well.”

Emily smiled. “Yeah, that didn’t work at all for Abby. But you had said that they were based on rules that you had growing up. Right?”

I paused. “Um.”

“Maybe we can come up with something similar for us. Not as a punishment, but as a way to keep each other accountable."

I considered her words, the idea of structure and accountability appealing in a way I hadn't expected. "I think that's a good idea," I said. "We could both use a little structure in our lives right now. But I’m guessing when you say, ‘us’, you mean, ‘me’."

Emily smiled. “Well, yeah. I mean, the rules should be for both of us, because that’s fair. But yeah, I think they will apply mostly to you.”

I grimaced. “Um.” Just what I wanted was for her to be counting every beer.

“Well, I think I might still know where a copy of that is. Maybe we can use some of the ideas from it. Let’s talk more about it this evening.”

As we finished our coffee, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, a sense of normalcy returning to our interactions. We talked about Abby and her classes, Emily filling me in on the latest news that she had heard, compared to what she told me, which was, roughly, “Not much is new, Dad.” We discussed plans for the weekend and ideas for projects around the house. It felt good, this easy back-and-forth, the rhythm of a partnership being rediscovered.

When the mugs were empty and the morning had fully settled in, Emily stood and stretched, a contented sigh escaping her lips. "I should get ready for the day," she said, but there was no rush in her movements, no urgency to leave the moment.

I nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the coffee. "I'll take care of the dishes."

Emily paused with her hand resting on my shoulder as she passed by. "Thank you, Greg. For being willing to talk about this."

I looked up at her, gratitude and affection swelling in my chest. "Thank you, Em. For understanding. For not giving up on me."

She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Never," she murmured, and then she was gone, leaving me with the lingering warmth of her touch and the promise of a fresh start.

As I cleared the table, an ember of my soul that had been repressed for twenty years had just gotten some oxygen. I hadn’t forgotten it, per se, but by an immense act of will, and love for Emily, I had boxed it up and stuffed it into the back of my mind. Over more than twenty years of happy and fulfilling marriage and family, that ember had smoldered, but last night had burst back to life. I knew what I wanted. I just needed to figure out how to get it. I felt a little guilty, scheming in my mind to mislead my wife, but it was a heck of a lot better than ruining our relationship by getting drunk every night.

Right?

to be Continued...

[lair-of-the-white-worm]

Dear Alf...

[art by @this-game-has-themes, text by me, oc Lenny belongs to me]

I wanna know somethin'...

Why do ya only kiss me when you're drunk?

Not when we could start the next day dead, crushed or ground into somethin' unrecognizable, and no one would stop to ask what our names were. Wouldn't even be called a poor bastard, 'cuz it just happens every day.

I do my job. Every day. Always have. I don’t ask questions. I don’t make a fuss. I ain't never had a life outside a' the freight yard.

That’s the way it is. That’s the way it’s always been. For all my life. For all your life. It's the only life we know.

We ain’t supposed to get distracted. We ain't supposed to deviate from that, it's what we do. We ain’t supposed to feel like nobody.

Because what else am I supposed to do?

That’s why I don’t let myself want things no more. Not a full night’s sleep. Not a day without aching bones. Not the softness of a paw that don't pull away. Not you.

And yet, when ya lean in close enough that I can smell the Brew on your nasty breath, wrap your arm around my shoulder and break that gap between us, I let you.

Because when you’re sober, ya don’t look at me like that. Ya punch my arm and ya crack jokes.

Ya call me a schmuck like it’s some kind of endearment. Ya slouch beside me like I’m nothing more than air, and I let you.

You called her eyes pretty. Did you know you’ve seen them before? Did you know you’ve stared right into them for as long as we've known each other? The same eyes you share a bottle with, a laugh with, a joke with? The same eyes you looked into before you pulled away and pretended you forgot?

I don’t ask questions, I don’t make a fuss. That’s the way it is. That’s the way it’s always been.

But sometimes, when the machines are too loud and the smoke clogs my throat, I think about the way you look at her.

Do ya drink to forget, or to remember? I dunno. I don’t know which answer would be worse.

I could run. I could grab your wrist and bolt onto the train. I'd take ya and we'd jump off somewhere. Anywhere. We could disappear into whatever's beyond the tracks, beyond the factories, beyond the machines. We could find somewhere quiet, somewhere the sky is more than just smog. I know it's out there. I've seen it.

I tell myself I don’t want to know. I tell myself it doesn’t matter. I tell myself we aren’t supposed to feel like someone. I ain't no pretty girl. I couldn't be, I wouldn't be. We can't be nothin'.

But then I'm sittin' with you again. And I look at ya. And suddenly, I wish we could be.

I think about her. How you talk about her, how your voice gets all loose and easy when you bring up her name.

But workers don’t run. Workers work. And I am a worker. That’s all I am. That's all you are. That’s all we're meant to be.

So I let the thought die before it takes shape. I crush it down, deep, an' I don't make a fuss over it. like every other Oddamn thing I’ve ever wanted.

Unless you can blame the brew for your hands on my waist, for the heat of your breath against my skin, for the way your face lingers so close like maybe—maybe—you wanna stay there this time.

She’s pretty, you say. She’s confident, you say. She’s out there. Everything I’m not.

You like her.

I know ya do.

And I wanna hate her for it.

I wanna hate the way she gets to be loud, how she gets to be wanted, how she doesn’t have to curl in on herself every fuckin' night because she’s ashamed to exist. I wanna hate that I made her because I was too much of a coward to be her. I wanna hate that you see her, but you never see me.

But then I see ya again, and it’s like it never happened. An' just like everything else, I gotta carry it alone.

But I was hatched to carry things. That’s what I do. I lift, I load, I haul, I sweat an' I keep goin' 'till I bleed. An' I don’t complain, because what’s the point? A worker’s worth is only in the weight he can carry. You know that, don't ya? That’s what they tell us. That’s what I tell myself.

So I let it sit heavy in my chest, let it pile on top of everything else. Because I was made to carry things.

Even this. Even you.

Fuck you, mud. I fuckin' love you.

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art by @this-game-has-themes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Text by me

OC Lenny also by me

[elminx]

Kitchen Witchery: Elminx's Anti-anxietea

In honor of eclipse season, I wanted to share a recipe to bring your buzz down a notch (or two). I've been drinking this nervine tea for nearly five years now; it features all of my favorite herbal flavors! I'm not going to go into detailed herbal profiles for each of these botanicals, but I suggest looking into them more if you are curious. I think learning the basics of herbalism can greatly benefit the kitchen witch.

Each of these ingredients can be found in any decent grocery store, bought online, or grown yourself. The combination is designed with flavor and herbal actions in mind; it's not a measure of exact ingredients - mix with your heart. All of these botanicals are well tolerated and can be drunk regularly by most people. Please be careful when trying new herbs; allergic or other adverse reactions can occur.

Hibiscus, Hibiscus sabdariffa Hibiscus is the primary flavoring agent in this blend. It gives our tea its Cool, Moist, and Sour properties. Please keep in mind that hibiscus will stain anything it comes into contact with, including clothing, wooden spoons, and even countertops. If you don't think you're familiar with hibiscus, it is the primary flavor in all "Zinger" teas. It tastes tart and inexplicably red.

Peppermint, Mentha piperito

Peppermint is the first of our gentle nervines to be added to our tea. Nervines do exactly what you expect them to: they calm your nerves. In addition to being a nervine (primary benefit), Peppermint adds its properties of Pungent, Sweet, Cool, Warm, and Dry to our tea. I'm sure you're all familiar with peppermint; you could probably substitute a different mint here with similar effect.

Lemon Balm, Melissa officinalis

Lemon balm is a nervine and a mild sedative. It brings the properties of Sour, Cool, and Dry to our tea. Some people don't like the taste of lemon balm, saying that it tastes like Pledge. If that's you, just omit it from this drink. The taste of hibiscus strongly overpowers the lemon balm, though, so maybe try it first.

Tulsi (Holy Basil), Ocimun santum

Tulsi is a nervine and adaptogenic herb, which means that it helps the body manage stress better. Its properties are Pungent, Sweet, Bitter, and Warm. With its heady, peppery notes, Tulsi is certainly an acquired flavor. If you get along with this herb, you will know almost immediately upon drinking it for the first time. A little goes a long way; you don't need to overdo it.

Dried Apple, Malus sp.

Although apple is primarily a flavoring agent (and sometimes a sweetening agent) in this blend, it does have mild sedative effects that lend themselves to the overall feel of this tea. I suggest using the apples you would eat in this recipe; you can dry slices of apples by putting them in your oven at 225F for 1.5 to 2 hours. Use a sweeter apple if you want a sweeter tea.

Minx's Anti-Anxietea

2 parts hibiscus

1 part peppermint

1 part lemon balm

1-2 parts dried apple

.5 part tulsi

Start by adding 1 tsp tea to hot water and steeping for 8 minutes. Adjust to your tastes from there.

This drink tastes great, hot or cold.

I've never sweetened this tea because I like my drinks bitter like my soul, but I bet a dollop of honey would be lovely in this—especially a nice summery wildflower honey. I've added sweetened cranberries in the past (1-2 parts) for more sweetness. And honestly, I don't measure. I know when it smells right.

I apply this drink liberally, but some people may find it too strong a diuretic to consume more than once daily. I drink it any time that I feel especially anxious or when I know I am going to be under a lot of stress. My partner likes to drink it before bedtime and claims it's one of the only things that will calm them down when they feel like they have too many thoughts.

You can witch this up (it's a verb now!) as little or as much as you like. I like to work calming energy into the drink step by step as I create the mixture by working with each botanical individually. You could charge this with a candle or sigil, dedicate it to one of your favorite gods or spirits, or store it on your altar. I create bindrunes for my favorite tea blends and use them as magical labels.

Do you like my work? You can tip me over on Kofi or sign up to be a monthly supporter of my writing.

[arroganceisherfavoritecolor]

I will take ANYTHING with colin and/or rodrick (#I'm desperate i've read everything twice) Sorry if thats vague, but I'm like a garbage disposal and will take anything atp. Thank you if you look at this, have a great day/night!

Something about whats-her-name

"Mr. Heffley, whats got you daydreaming away in my class, hm?" Rodrick snapped back to reality, the brittle voice of his teacher shattering his thoughts about- wait... what was her name again? Oh, that's right, Y/n. Y/n L/n, how could he have already been in his 3rd year of high school and barely notice her? "Oh, sorry, it wont happen again" Rodrick said, like an idiot. The teacher simply rolled her eyes and went back to the lecture. As the teacher was talking, Rodrick went back to thinking of Y/n. Since they had just came back from winter break, Y/n must have moved her schedule around and ended up getting put into his 4th period English class. The seating chart app must have been on Rodrick's side when it was determining the new seating chart for the remainder of the year, because it had placed Y/n one person above him, but still in the row next to his, giving him a perfect view.

She was more than just gorgeous, more than ethereal, more than any word that Rodrick's pea-sized brain could come up with. She wasn't like all the other girls Rodrick had liked in the past, most of them quite prissy and rude. But Y/n? Y/n was cool, stylish and you could tell she was NOT just another brick in the wall. Although she was seen hanging out with Heather and her goons sometimes, you could tell she was nice. Rodrick knew she had an amazing personality, and he wasn't just saying that because he was totally head over heels for her. Every time he saw her from across the campus during lunch, she had that gorgeous smile of hers on her face. When he had asked his friends about Y/n, they had only good things to say about her. After a few weeks, Rodrick decided he HAD to get to know her, so he set up a plan.

Rodrick had came to the conclusion that he was going to throw a party that weekend. Since his parents and youngest brother would be gone, Rodrick felt it was the perfect (and probably only) opportunity to throw a sick ass party and impress the girl of his dreams. He sent out a group text in his schools group chat, which soon got screenshotted and posted on various social networking's. Most of the time, Rodrick didn't give a damn about what his peers thought of him. He had gone through all 11 years of school being seen as a dorky, emo weirdo. But now that Y/n was in the picture, Rodrick gave every damn and a bag of chips. He knew this kickback of his had to be off the hook, it was really his only chance to get Y/n to fall for him.. because y'know, he cant just go up to her and ask for her number or something... boy logic.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The Heffley household was PACKED. Teenagers coming in like ants marching. 30 minutes after the party started, Rodrick chose to stop answering the door, and just leave it wide open. People were drunk, some partying it up inside the house, and others passed out in the yard. As he surfed through seas of people, Rodrick made his way to the backyard. There, he saw Y/n sitting on the porch, alone. He opened the sliding glass door, feeling the fresh air on his skin. Y/n turned around, eyes widened. They soon softened when she saw Rodrick. He stood there, looking down at Y/n. She smiled, scooting over to make some room for Rodrick. He smiled, sitting down next to her. Finally, he broke the silence. "So... am I interrupting something? Or are you only out here 'cus my party's lame?" Y/n smiled, Rodrick swore he could feel his pupils dilate. "Nah, of course not. It just really stuffy in there, needed a breath of fresh air." She broke eye contact with him, looking down at her drink. Rodrick saw it wasn't even beer, it was Coke. As he continued to stare at her, Rodrick realized that Y/n is even prettier up close. She turned her head to look at him, which made Rodrick snap out of his trance. "Is there something wrong?" Asked Y/n, her head cocked to the side. What kind of question was that? Of course there was something wrong. Rodrick is sitting outside with the girl hes been damn near stalking, ALONE, and he probably creeped her out because he can't keep his eyes off of her for two seconds. "No, nothing wrong. You're just.." Rodrick couldn't find it in himself to spit out what he so badly wanted to say. "I'm just what?" Y/n's eyebrows were furrowed, a confused expression on her face. "You're so beautiful" Oh shit. It just slipped out, he didn't even mean to say it. Her eyes were wide, her once confused face now turned surprised. "Oh- oh my god. I'm.. i-i'm so sorry Y/n i ju-" Rodrick's stammering of nonsense was cut off by Y/n's soft lips kissing his. Her hands found his face and thumbs gently began to stroke his cheek. Y/n pulled away, a sweet smile on her face. Rodrick's mouth was hanging open, speechless from what had just happened. "Whoa, okay uh, alright." Rodrick said, which made Y/n giggle, eyes scrunching up and sparkling. "I don't wanna sound conceited, but I know everything Rodrick. I can feel you staring at me during 4th period, I notice how you purposely walk by my table during lunch, I even see all the profile views you leave on my socials." With every word that came out of your mouth, Rodrick could feel his face getting warmer and warmer. "O-oh my god Y/n, I'm sorry." He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the blush. You laughed and softly grasped his wrists, uncovering his cute face. Y/n looked into Rodrick's eyes, deep and dark and desperate looking. "I don't mind at all, Rodrick." She said, eyes switching from looking at his eyes to his lips. "Why didn't you ever talk to me sooner, Rodrick?" Oh lord, hearing his name coming from your voice sounded like music to his ears. "Well I mean, you're just so... I cant even think of a word. I guess I've just been intimidated by you, I didn't know how to approach you." Y/n's eyebrows raised. "Oh, is it because i'm just sooo scary and discouraging, that it took you 6 months to have a conversation with me?" Rodrick laughed, feeling the tension wearing off. "Well, I guess you cant be THAT scary since you just ate my face" Y/n rolled her eyes, gently slapping his arm. "Seriously though, I really like you Y/n, I know i'm a wuss for not talking to you sooner." Y/n smiled at him as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Kiss me again, Rodrick."

And so he did.

A/N: THIS IS NOT MY BEST WORK GUYS! Lowkey rushed bc school stuff lol (i'm dying inside) PLEASEEE request more stuff!! thank u so much for requesting @my-sibling-wears-a-muumuu !!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting to spend a night out with a guy?

I'm twenty, study in university and still live with my parents. I've been planning to move out since I was eighteen, but they told me to keep living at home and not get a job so I could focus on studying while they take care of me financially. This arrangement has worked mostly well in the past years save for a few small conflicts, but it's escalated in the past 3-4 months.

The issue is my time schedule. I have a very active social life, am active in the local art scene, do political work and a lot of extracurricular stuff for university (I'm a straight A student, I might add!). Because of this, and because I'm a natural night owl, I usually come home late several days a week (between 10pm and 2am) and stay out all day for most of the week. This means I can't do a lot of chores, and usually there's a lot of housework because my mum has a bit of a cleaning anxiety and wants to make sure everything is spotless 24/7.

Enter this guy, I'll call him Tim. I met him at a festival last summer and we became long distance friends. Tim has visited me for a day several times before, but this weekend he offered to come over for two days and we agreed to spend the night stargazing together without sleeping. I loved the idea and immediately said yes. It was gonna be just us, a couple energy drinks, and some bench in the city center, and I was really looking forward to it.

The thing is, my mum does not like Tim. Like, at all. She thinks he seems very sleazy and generally distrusts him because he feels "too nice" for her. Mind you, he's just a somewhat shady looking guy who is generally pretty anxious he might make a bad impression, so he overperforms the whole "respectable member of society" act a bit around new people. I've introduced him to my friend group and even the more sceptical people absolutely love him and think he's a very sweet, helpful person. In basically every stressful situation I've ever seen him in he's been deescalating, protective and helpful, and he has on several occasions been my first source of comfort when things went to hell.

Today I told my mum in an offhanded comment that I won't come home between Sunday and Monday and the situation escalated completely. She was crying, accusing me of ruining her month, saying I didn't care about this family, it got ugly. The main point she had was that I was staying out all night with someone who's a total stranger to her and she doesn't trust him at all. In the end we compromised that Tim and I would spend the night awake, but not in the city, at home.

I feel really humiliated by this whole situation and honestly, kind of betrayed, because I was promised stuff like this wouldn't happen, and it just hits in a much safer situation than ones I've been in before (I used to get blackout drunk and sleep at parties a lot.). I'm a legal adult, have been for years now and it's so disappointing that my parents still treat me like a child sometimes and are so judgy towards my friends too. At the same time, I'm wondering whether I've acted wrong too by not telling her about this earlier and not taking her concerns that seriously. I forget sometimes that I talk to Tim every day for hours, but my parents only briefly ran into him once, so of course their view of him is skewed.

PS: I should add that when I told him about this, he immediately apologized, asked if I needed anything or wanted to change the plan and decided to dig out the least offensive outfit he could find so he'd make a good impression on my parents. So he's definitely trying his best.

[jfleamont]

never, sometimes, all the time

a snippet from my upcoming uni/band au - 1701 words

The kitchen is scarcely lit and there's a faint smell of burnt eggs. Someone cooked during the party, probably Marlene. Nevermind that this isn’t her flat; the boys don’t mind. They’ve known her for a couple of months, but they welcomed her with open arms, just like they did with Lily. They’re good, she thinks. These kids are good. They let her smoke inside the house tonight— well, James did. She only smokes every once in a while. Mostly when she’s nervous.

He's sitting across from her, one arm draped across the chair beside him, his head thrown back. His eyes are closed and his lips are slightly upturned; he looks content. Lily thinks he's smiling. 

No, he definitely is.

Maybe it's the alcohol in his system. Or the music, which is still playing, though at a much lower volume than before; the others are already in their rooms, passed out, so they don’t care. This is just for the two of them.

She doesn’t know why she hasn’t left.

“You didn't keep your word,” she tells him. He'd promised Sirius he wouldn't get drunk. They hadn't said why, and only exchanged what looked like a meaningful look that she couldn’t decipher. Not yet, at least.

He chuckles, his eyes still closed. “I've only had one drink. And I didn't know you paid so much attention to me.”

“Remind me not to do it again. Also, it was a Long Island Iced Tea. A strong one, from the looks of it.”

He shrugs. “The situation called for it.”

She leans forward on the table, lowering her voice just a little. “Is this about Peter?”

“No. Maybe. I don't know.”

She waits for him to continue. He does. “It's just that we were so close to being great.” A humourless laugh, “Maybe I'm kidding myself. We weren't close at all.”

She notes the perfectly relaxed line of his brows. Maybe it’s just because he’s tired, but there’s no hint of anger on his face. “You don't seem too bothered by this, though.”

“Oh, well, I'm doing okay now. It's not too bad, I suppose.”

Lily snorts, and knows that he isn’t lying. “Yeah?”

He opens his eyes - they’re tired and soft like she’s never seen them - and fixes them on her.

“Yeah.”

“Always the optimist, you.”

He mirrors her position, resting his chin on his palm. “I had a good night, that's all.”

“I don't think that's all.”

“You’re right, it's not,” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. He laughs quietly, a hint of anxiety colours his voice.

“So? Tell me,” she prompts him.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and looks behind her for a moment. “I have a plan. Mind you, not a good one, but it's a plan. It's sort of insane and if I'm being honest, it’s probably the worst idea I've ever had.”

“Are we still talking about the band or…?” 

“I found a solution for next week's gig,” he announces grandly, smiling from ear to ear. The only thing that is missing is the jazz hands.

“You found a bassist? That was quick. Who is it?” 

“You.”

She blinks. Several times. James’ smile has faded a little, and his expression looks careful.

“You've got to be joking.”

“Told you it was a crazy idea.”

Lily doesn’t want to think about the implications of this. Being friends with the people Severus couldn’t stand was one thing, but actually performing with them? That couldn’t happen. It’s not like she cares about him anymore. No, that’s not it. Maybe a part of her misses him still, and she used to be a people pleaser when she was around him, but this has nothing to do with that. It’s the fact that she has been questioning every single decision she has made ever since she left Severus behind. With him, it felt right… until it didn’t. Who’s to say that this won’t happen again? She doesn’t trust herself anymore, and this is brand new territory.

“You want me to join your band. You?”

James sits up straighter and gives her a funny look. “Why do you sound so surprised? You're brilliant.”

“But… I can't.”

“You can't or you won't?”

“Can't! How am I supposed to learn your entire setlist by next week?” she exclaims. She doesn’t mean to raise her voice, but she can’t help it. The more she thinks about this, the less confident she feels.

“Actually it would be better by Wednesday.”

He doesn’t look apologetic at all. Strange, since he was so worried about asking her a minute ago. Either he’s mad - and this is a very real possibility - or he just believes she can do it, which, really, is another form of insanity. 

She tells him so. “You're not right in the head.”

“Evans—”

“I've got two papers to submit by the end of next week! There's no way I can play with you,” she says in a whispered shout, and now she’s the one with her hands in her hair.

He’s grinning. “But you want to.”

She suppresses a smile at his bravado, but he’s right. “I want to help you. But I can't.”

He leans in conspiratorially, and his enthusiasm almost wins her over. Almost. “Come on, it would be fun! And it's just a one time thing, okay? Or at least until we find a new bassist.” 

“Can't believe you're asking me this.”

“Please?”

He’s not pouting, but he might as well be, and Lily can’t deny it: she’s thought about this exact scenario. She’s seen them on stage, she knows how good they are: they’re miles better than everyone else in their local music scene, really, and Lily can’t help but wonder if she’ll feel out of place up there. She loves performing, but being in a band with Severus showed her how awful it feels to be overshadowed by someone else, and she doesn’t want a repeat of that.

“… Can I think about it?”

James’ eyes light up. “Is this a yes?”

“It’s a question.”

“Of course you can think about it! Take a couple of days,” he waves a hand around and sits back in his chair, looking triumphant. Lily smiles; she’s about to burst his bubble. 

“Hmm,” she rubs her chin contemplatively, “What do I get in return, though?”

He furrows his brows, not expecting her question. “Oh… We're not getting paid for this gig, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I know, Potter,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes, but there’s no real annoyance in her tone. “I've performed there too. I'm talking about something else.”

The side of his mouth quirks up. Cheeky boy. “Anything in particular?”

“I'll let you know. After the gig,” she adds nonchalantly.

“What if I refuse?”

“These are my terms. Take it or leave it.”

James is thinking hard, by the looks of it. She doesn’t know what kind of favour she’ll ask him, but simply knowing that she has the upper hand in this situation makes her euphoric. He knows he’s signing away his soul if he agrees. She still hasn’t decided if she’s going to mess with him or not. Perhaps she’ll be nice about it.

“Fuck it. It's a deal,” he extends an arm to shake her hand and she’s about to do the same when a thought occurs.

“Hang on, did you say this was the worst idea you’ve ever had? What the fuck?”

“Shot myself in the foot, haven’t I?”

“I’m giving you one chance to recover from this. One.”

“Fuck,” he covers his face with his hands, and she thinks he’s blushing a little but she isn’t sure. “Remus is much better at this. He was supposed to broach the subject but he refused to, thinks I’m mental.”

She drops her smile and freezes. “Is he even okay with this? And Sirius?”

“Don’t worry, they both think you’re great. Sirius says you’re the female Flea.”

She beams at the compliment and relaxes into the seat. “Do you agree?”

His eyes roam around her face and Lily feels warm all over. It only lasts a moment, and then he’s smirking again. “You’re easier on the eyes, so…”

Right. He’s just messing with her. 

“Twat,” she responds, and kicks his chair.

His gaze softens. “But to me you’re more Macca than Flea,” James continues, tilting his head to the side as he studies her once again.

“He was fit when he was younger, not going to lie,” she deflects, because she knows she’s talented - she does! - but she feels the impostor syndrome kick in any time she is compared to another great bassist‒ she has a list; Paul McCartney is at the top. Wait, is James aware of this? She hopes not.

He laughs and nods vigorously. “Especially in the late ‘60s with that beard.”

“Shame he never grew it out again after that,” she sighs, and feels the tension dissipate.

James raises an eyebrow. “Wanna watch the Get Back documentary?”

She’s pretty sure he’s joking, but the last time she saw it she cried, and she doesn’t have the strength to hold back the tears in front of him. Besides, her eyelids feel so heavy that she would probably fall asleep ten minutes in, and she’d rather sleep in a bed tonight. “As much as I’d love to, you’re dead on your feet and I’m not doing much better so… I’d better walk home.”

James sits up straight, suddenly very alert. “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

He gets up from the chair and grabs the remote. “I don’t want to walk in the cold and neither do you,” he says with his back to her as he turns off the music, “so just do me a favour and use my bed.”

She can’t possibly sleep on James Potter’s bed. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s not up for debate,” his tone is resolute but he’s wagging his finger at her, which makes him look kind of ridiculous. “The sheets are clean, changed them this morning.”

“I can’t let you—”

“I’ll take the sofa, goodnight.”

And with that he walks to the bathroom and closes the door.

[i4longhairchris]

I HATE BOSTON - Chris sturniolo×Reader

Hey everyone!! This was the first time I wrote a story in English (which btw is not my first language) so I apologize for any mistakes and pls lemme know if you find any!! This is just a silly angst, don't be rude pls

-------------------------------------------------------

The music drowned out the conversation, but I knew exactly what was going on. Chris was talking to a girl, smiling the same way he did when we first met.

As much as I try to forget, the memories are etched in my memory like fucking tattoos. The way he showed Boston with a smile on his face, so proud of his city, told stories from his childhood and showed off his strong accent.

We were just friends. I mean, we kiss sometimes, especially when the drink or neediness talks louder, but we never went beyond… friends. And Chris seemed happy with our situation. He kissed as many mouths as he wanted and there was always this idiot waiting for him when the party ended. On the other hand, I couldn't hide the way my heart broke every time I was forced to see him with other girls.

As I feel tears forming in my eyes, I decide that I'm just too tired of this shit. I walk towards the door as if my life depended on it, when I hear Chris calling my name, but I don't stop walking until I finally leave that party that seemed to take all the breath from my lungs.

I was staying at the Sturniolo house during my stay in Boston. I tiptoed until I reached the guest room, which, conveniently, was next to Chris's.

When the crying finally wears me out, sleep wins and I feel my eyes getting heavy, but a loud noise wakes me up. I hear a curse, and I know it's Chris even before he opens the door to my room.

"What's up? You seemed weird earlier at the party, you didn't even talk to me." Chris says, sitting down next to me in bed. His slightly messy hair, slurred speech and the smell of beer gave away his state.

"I'm just tired, Chris. You should go back to one of your girlfriends, I'm sure they're in a better mood than I am." I sigh, pulling the covers up to hide my face.

"Lucky for you, I want to stay right here, even with your bad mood." Chris laughs, pulling the covers up and grabbing my chin so I look at him. When I push his hand away and get up from the bed, the boy's eyebrows furrow. "What's your problem? You've been acting like an asshole all day!"

"My problem? You're my problem! I'm tired of being your consolation prize when the party's over, the beer's no longer fun and the pretty girls are gone." My voice comes out shaky. I was startled when I heard the words coming out of my lips. It was almost as if my conscience had lost the battle with my emotional side. Sure, I had planned that fight several times in my head, but I never thought I would have the courage. Having a little bit of Chris was better than having nothing.

"What the fuck, y/n! What is this all about? Are you mad at me because I didn't spend all fucking night with you or...?”

"I’m mad cause I don't want to be your fucking friend! I don't... I don't want to be just your friend, Chris. I've been in love with you since day one. When you showed me the most hidden places in Boston, I was so, so sure that we could work. And I still am! We could work if you just tried."

"You know damn well that I don't want to be in a relationship, y/n. I never gave you any expectations about it. I showed you Boston because you were like a tourist or some shit like that... If you imagined things, that's not my problem." Chris answers. My words seem to have affected him, but he doesn't allow any reaction to be shown for too long, soon returning to his neutral expression. I laugh, too tired of that shit. “You’re probably drunk… I should leave. Tomorrow we can try to talk if you're not acting all this crazy.”

"Actually, I should leave. I'll get a ticket back to New York and we don't have to have any fucking conversation in the morning. You should be happy, I mean, since you're so afraid of feeling any shit!”

Chris shakes his head in denial and stands up, holding my hand and murmuring "baby" in the tone that used to make me forget my own name.

“But if I can give you a advice before you leave this fucking town… When your friends get tired, the girls get sick of your games, and you're all alone, don't say I didn't try. Cause i tried so hard, Chris..."

"No! Please, y/n. I'll get better, I..." I could have sworn I saw tears in his blue eyes. He just hugs me.

"Chris, let me go.” I leave his arms wipe away the tears that ran down my cheeks. “And just so you know… I hate Boston! As far as I'm concerned, they should just burn this whole city down"

[redwayfarers]

house of grief and sunlight

fandom: wayfarer ship: cassander/aisanne characters: cassander inteus, aisanne bjornsdottir rating: gen words: 1625 note: this is my entry for @idrellegames' three year anniversary event! prompt i'd chosen is paramour - expected of me, i know - but i've hardly written about cass' bisexuality and i felt like it needed to be written about! excuse the ya-sounding title lmao i could not resist also, aisanne is a gw2 oc that i've ported to wayfarer. she lives over on @i-mybrunettelady most of the time :) divider credit

I am tired of grief.  I don’t know if it ever goes away, but for fuck’s sake, I’m so tired of it. It’s summer, though, and a part of me feels like the sun will chase it away, if only for a day or two. Our house needs the sun right now. Grief hangs over it like a veil, and we don’t speak of it, but maybe the rays that come through our window each morning help. 

Or so I hope. Hope’s a stupid thing by and large, because every time I hope something happens it decidedly doesn’t, as if the gods above or whoever sits and watches this farce of an existence keeps laughing at me and says, “Add more!” But I can’t help but wish, in my heart of hearts, that sometimes, maybe one day in this lifespan that’s entirely too long for one guy, I don’t feel like a tossed out, crapped on kitten on the streets. 

It’s summer. That feels important to repeat to self. I am feeling a little less grief. The room around me is loud and messy and sounds jump from one place to another like rabbits, in a cacophony ruled over by the harmonious noise of music. Sanne’s the one behind the harp, golden under the candlelight, and if she was a different woman, she’d be singing in a Meissandic temple. 

She cares little for the traditional rites, though. She cares little for the chants I’d attended once or twice when I was a kid. She looked at me all confused when I told her how courtly, Vestran services happen, and said, in a strange tone, “I don’t understand how people like that.” I don’t understand either, and thank fuck I’m not a Vestran aristocrat anymore. 

Her place is telling stories of heroes and events long gone, to be a musical wayfarer. She’s doing that tonight. I was drunk when we first met here and she had to hold my hair while I was throwing up, apparently. Can’t say I remember that attractive trait about myself. I’m not drunk right now, however, sitting near the small wooden stage, taking small sips of my cider. The drink is irrelevant; she captures my attention more than any alcohol could. 

She’s radiant and shiny, half covered in shadows, which makes her golden crest stand out. The bright sheen of her golden hair disappears and reappears after the movements of her head. I can’t see her freckles clearly from here, but I can see the ink on her neck, the roundness of her full lips, an occasional yellow in the blues of her eyes when the candlelight reflects off them. I’m not blind to beauty, but there’s beauty in a way a finely made building is beautiful, and a way a person is beautiful. 

You don’t wanna fuck buildings, do you? And if you do, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?

Others are looking at her too. That doesn’t matter, because it’s my bed who she comes to tonight. Or is it me coming to hers? Not fucking important. 

These feelings are new. For most of my life, interest like this fell to men. Part of me wonders if I’m just that desperate for any kind of tenderness in my life that my head would start making up attraction; but the way this feels can’t be anything but a solid fucking reality. Women were always beautiful the way buildings were, but now they’re flesh and bone and soul and personality and there’s something so weirdly appealing about that that it catches me off guard. 

Not all women are your mother, you dumb fuck. 

I know, but women have never been.. This. I think about Sanne when she’s away. I watch her practice for the performances, mesmerized. There’s peace and blood rushing to my face when we’re laughing in bed, or making lunch, or eating, or just existing in the same space. My insides get all twisted up, like I’m a kid again crushing on older Wayfarers. It’s like Senna again, and I simply forgot how it feels like to be crushing on someone this bad. 

Nothing will ever happen between us, however. It would be so crappy to prey on a widow’s feelings. She rarely speaks of her dead husband, but he’s not even that cold as far as dead people go; maybe a little more than us Wayfarers, but not by much. Our living together is a result of loneliness, desperation, not a desire to find a partner again. But I was dumb enough to pretend I didn't see it. 

She’s cooking, some days after her performance. Sun is shining through the window, leaving her figure in semi-shadows and catching on the ends of her shiny, metallic hair. She’s not as glamorous as she was at the show; right here is a Sanne that’s more down to earth, more solid, dressed comfortably, not worried about how she’s perceived. I’m folding clothes nearby and doing a half-assed job of it, too. It’s hard to concentrate some days over the deafening noise of all this fucking attraction confusion business. 

Every so often she turns back to look at me with a strange smile on her face. “That’s what I wore to Kiaran’s funeral,” she says suddenly. I jerk and drop my gaze to the dress in my hands. Sunlight washes away its dark color in places. There are little holes in it that I want to sew shut, but I don’t have her consent to. She’s weirdly sentimental about it. 

My Spire didn’t have a funeral, and us survivors only have ashes as funerary garb. 

“What’s this stain again?” I ask, raising the dress and jerking my head in the direction of the big, grayish blob on the skirt. “I keep forgetting!” 

She sighs and throws a full, peeled onion at me. It hits me right in the forehead and the poor plant, already under threat, pricks my eyes. “You’re horrible,” I say in mock offense. “You don’t want your dress to stink, do you?” 

“I’m not burying anyone anytime soon,” she says lowly, in a tone that implies I’m hitting a boundary. I wince and put the dress down, careful of the location of the onion. 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I approach, gently placing the vegetable on the table. She gives me a hard look. “I shouldn’t have joked about the dress. It means a lot to you and I tend to joke around, right, about the things that I’m sensitive about so people don’t attack me for it first? Offense is the best defense kinda thing? And I forget that sometimes - a lot of the time - people don’t function the way my fucked up head does?”

Shut up, Cassander. You’re making it worse.

Something tightens my throat, like hands choking me from the inside out. I grip the table and swallow thickly. My stomach twists up, and the smell and feel of onion fills the kitchen and I can only focus on the dents in the dark wood beneath my fingers and the uneven pattern freckles of my hand. 

“Cassander,” Sanne says. Her tone is too much for me to analyze right now, try as I might. “Cass.” 

“What?” 

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” 

“Picking at your scar. Stop it.” 

I lower my hand from my face and grip the edges of my tunic. The edges of my braid - I need to take care of those ugly fucking ends one of these days - tickles my hand. You’re scaring people. Enjoy your lifetime of solitude, whether you’re actually into women or not. Who would want someone as shaky and deranged as you are? 

Vestra should’ve killed you, if you were so determined to go back. 

“I’m sorry,” I murmur to my feet. 

“I’m not angry. If you pushed, I would’ve been, greatly so. But you didn’t. Stop shaking like a leaf.” There’s something in her tone that feels like cold water to the face. I breathe out and blink away a small selection of tears. Saltiest one always drops first! I’m imagining a little tear race now, little tear spectators cheering the racers on, tear savants testing the levels of salt in each one. The thought makes me giggle and I bury my head in my hands as I laugh. 

“I’m not angry with you,” she repeats, gentler than before. Her voice is still as steely, though. “Go finish the laundry while I make lunch.”

Without a word, I retreat to my location at the corner of the room, where still wet clothes wait to be sorted and hung to dry. I put the dress to the side and continue sorting through the clothes; sometimes, I look at her, her back turned to me, and the shaking of my hands grows for a split second. 

I try my best not to cry. Better save that energy for the worst of the shitshow that I know is yet to come.

I’ve forgotten that this is a house of grief and no sunlight can fix it. And I’ve walked over her grief in the same way I would walk over my own, but where I’m used to it, she isn’t. And even when we go to the same bed that night, seemingly forgetting what happened, and even when the sun rises the morning after, this is still a place where two grieving people decided to seek comfort because being broken together is somehow better than being broken alone. 

No summer nor new kinds of sex can fix the holes in your heart. 

I am tired of grief.  I don’t know if it ever goes away, but for fuck’s everloving and everlasting sake, I’m so tired of it.

[hannahssimblr]

“Evan, can I sit?”

He glances up at me and shrugs, patting the ground next to him so I slump down heavily on it and take a healthy gulp from my bottle. 

“You good, man?”

“Yeah, amazing.”

“I, uh, I see you were chatting to Leah, there? You know each other?”

“Nah.”

“Really? Well... she’s a weirdo anyway, you’re better off getting away from her, like, I just sell her weed and stuff, I don’t really like when she hangs around too long.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” 

“Was she being weird with you?” 

“Nope.” 

We’re silent as we watch the flames. I begin to wonder what time it is, and whether I've stayed long enough now for it to be acceptable to go home. As I watch all of the other friends around the fire have fun together I’m struck by how much of an outsider I really am. Sure, Rob and Katie are nice, but will any of that niceness extend into normal life with the eyes of everyone else at school upon us? Surely they will go back to the steps at the back of the school while I go back to the rugby changing rooms, or the library, as it may be and things will resume as they are, as they've always been and always will be. Realistically, would they ever be seen with me? Would I ever be seen with them? There's this weird, empty feeling in me, a feeling that just compounds day after day, month after month, year after year, and it's like I don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. I'm just floating in the in-between, and who even am I? What does it mean to even-

“Hey,” Evan interrupts my spiralling inner dialogue, “I meant to say to you that it’s cool that you came along, you know, even when Jen and Michelle didn’t.”

This takes me by surprise, “You think?”

“Yeah, I mean, I suppose I kind of thought you were just hanging out with us sometimes because of them, and that you didn’t really want to be there, but,” a shrug, “I suppose that isn’t true.”

“No, I like hanging out with you.”

“And it’s not just because you’ve been ostracised by your other friends?”

I hesitate for a beat, “No.”

Evan laughs, “Wow, I’m so convinced!”

“No, come on,” I rock to the side and nudge his shoulder with mine, “Like, yeah, sometimes it’s nice to have Jen here, but I’m fine, I can handle myself around the emos… and as for Michelle, well, she hates me, so it’s actually kinda comfier when she’s not here, and- oh,” I realise immediately what I’ve said, “um, well I don’t really mean that, it-”

“No, it’s okay,” Evan says, “I know that you two aren’t exactly best friends or anything.”

“Ah, so she’s talked to you about me.” 

“Nah, you’ve honestly never come up in conversation.”

“Somehow that’s worse.”

He snickers. 

“How are, um,” I pick at the beer label with my thumb, “How are things going with you guys? Like, the last time we talked you were feeling kinda…”

A sigh, “Oh, yeah, it’s the same. Like, she’s so nice but sometimes I don’t feel like I get enough from her.”

“Uh huh.”

“I kind of get a bit annoyed about it sometimes, like, how are we supposed to be together properly if I hardly see her? Like, man, she’s allowed to come to my house like, once a week. In the afternoon. And that’s the only time we can… uh, hook up or whatever. It’s so annoying.”

“Just from an outsider's perspective, you know, you seem pretty happy.”

“Yeah. She’s definitely into me,” He musses up and fixes his fringe, “I dunno. It’s fine, just sometimes I wonder about shit. You know what I mean, right?”

“I’m probably not the best person to ask, seeing none of my relationships have worked out so far, and I’m also fairly drunk, so…”

“But you know what it’s like to be with someone who wouldn’t give you the things you needed, right?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“So you do get it.”

“Mm, I suppose,” as our conversation tapers off I let my mind drift into thoughts about love and loneliness and the hollow disappointment of all of my relationships. These are bitter, useless, self destructive thoughts as usual, made even worse by the fact that I’m not exactly capable of rational thought while inebriated. Is drinking bad for me? Am I a miserable drunk? I have to physically shake myself out of my own head before I start talking myself into a hole again.

I turn to Evan to start saying something else about, I don’t know, whether he’s ever tried pranking someone by turning their school bag inside out and putting the books back into it or something stupid like that, but I see he’s distracted by something else across the bonfire. 

It’s that girl with the pink hair. She’s leaning over a bag to rummage for more beer, and her short skirt rides up when she’s bent over like that so that her underwear is visible through the sheer material of her tights. I frown at the dirty little smirk on his face, the way hungry eyes follow her movements, and the look between them as she glances over her shoulder and sees him watching her. I nudge my knee against his to interrupt whatever is going on.

“Wow, nice legs, huh?” 

He looks at me, surprised, but lets out a rough laugh, “Yeah, for sure.”

“Is she into you or am I just seeing things?”

“Nah, I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, c’mon, no, I’m just messing with you, she just looked like… I dunno.”

“Like what?”

I shift awkwardly, “You know what, don’t mind me, I’ve had too much to drink, I thought I detected flirting, or whatever, I guess I was wrong.”

The girl kneels onto the ground and starts asking around for the bottle opener, and Evan doesn’t take his eyes away from her. “She’s pretty though, isn’t she?”

“Hm?”

“Carlie. That’s her name. She’s pretty, do you think?”

“She’s single?”

“Yep.”

“So are you trying to set me up with her or are you just pointing that out?”

“I’m not trying to set you up.” Evan seems agitated by this idea that I might try to date pretty Carlie, who, by the way, treats me like I am contagious. As though it’s any of his business what she does, as if he should even care. Something sour settles in my gut, but I can’t tell whether it’s that I'm weirded out by this conversation or if the alcohol is nauseating me. 

“Right, well, she’s not my type,” I watch his face carefully, “Is she yours?”

“She’s pretty hot.”

Maybe he's looking for my approval or my agreement, which I don’t give him on purpose. To see where it leads me I respond with a benign, “Oh, you think?”

“Uh huh,” They catch eyes again and she smiles coyly and quickly looks away to resume her conversation. That’s flirtation. She’s flirting with him, and him back, right in front of my face. 

“You know, a lot of people would consider your girlfriend to be pretty hot too.” It’s true, I’ve heard those rugby boys saying it before, the only time they ever had anything remotely complimentary to say about any of the emos was to point out the things they fancied about Michelle and what they might like to do to her if she A. wasn’t emo, or B. nobody knew, so that they wouldn’t have to suffer the social consequences. I feel disgusted again at this memory. I know where I was, sitting on the bench lacing up my boots and saying nothing while they spoke casual filth about a girl I know. 

It’s a similar feeling to the one I have now at this bonfire with Evan, and maybe this is how he is when he’s drunk, maybe he just gets a bit… leery, but when he stares across the fire at someone who isn’t his girlfriend I swear I am looking at Willy FitzHerbert. 

He waves my comment away, “Yeah but at least Carlie is interested in sex.”

“How do you know that?”

He leans closer, “Obviously because I’ve done it with her.”

“Yeah?” I say, “When?”

He smirks and says nothing.

I push him again. “A few years ago?”

He lowers his voice and looks at me with eyes that glitter with salacious excitement. I don’t think I’ve ever once seen another boy look so pleased with himself as he says: “Try a month ago.”

It takes all my self control not to react. I just pause for a second as a shock of revulsion rips through my body, I feel it from my feet to the top of my head, and then, when I decide to speak, my voice is strange to my own ears, “While you were with Michelle.”

A shrug, “It just happened on a night out when she wasn’t there. I dunno.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“Course not. She’d break up with me.”

“And... you don’t want that.”

“No, because we’re in love. This stuff with Carlie, it was just… you get what I mean. It’s not like that with her.”

I sigh, “Uh, yep.”

So it appears it is the same for Evan as it is for all the others. Michelle is the virgin, Carlie is the slut and he wants it all at the same time. A girl worthy of love, and a girl interested in sex, two things that cannot converge. There is no girl that can be both.

“It felt good to let loose with someone who knew what they were doing, and like, not have to think so hard about making the other person all safe and comfortable and, blah,” he rolls his eyes, “Carlie is cool.”

“Right, yeah, she seems it.”

“You get me, right? Guys like us, you know, we need to be able to just relax sometimes, not think so hard…”

“Yeah, for sure… Guys like us, huh?”

“Hell yeah!” He clinks his beer bottle against mine, “I knew you’d get it, honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should say something but I feel good now that you understand what I meant.”

I try to laugh but it sounds weird and strangled, so I bring the bottle to my lips in the hope that drinking will disguise my discomfort, or at the very least numb it a bit. I finish the last two thirds of it and toss it somewhere amongst the miscellaneous rubbish, remnants of a hundred other miserable bonfire nights on Dollymount strand.  

Then, after a minute or two Evan nudges me again. It’s hard to look at him but I force myself to because it is what I would do if this situation was normal, “You’re not going to say anything, right? Like, to Michelle or Jen? Like I know you probably won’t...” A laugh as he adjusts his fringe, “That'd be insane, I know, but I wanted to make sure.”

“Me? Nah,” I say, “Why would you even have to ask? Don’t worry about it,” I scratch the back of my head, “your, uh, your secret is safe with me.”

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