#its Andrew's pov too

[chaoticas-hell]

Y'all wtf? Im trying to write my fic Falling Is A Lot Like Drowning and I can't spell but-

Im just trying to say Andrew is enthusiastic about Neil am I just that horrible of a speller!??!?! Or is this some kind of message from the universe???

[unrequitedloveisabitch]

one of my biggest pet peeves as far as aftg art goes was, for the longest time, everyone making Neil a ginger when he is very clearly described as having auburn hair. Almost direct quote: "he'd had brown hair before, but never this specific shade of brown". Implying his hair is more brown than red. But ANYWAy. Nora corrected people recently and most new Neil art has the right color hair, which I appreciate.

now, my biggest coloring pet peeve is Andrew's eyes...

guys... they're not brown. They're hazel. Hazel is a mix of green and brown and gold. No matter what mix you make them, there should be at least a little green in there for them to be considered hazel. js

[dayurno]

[whizzing-fizzbee]

Very NSFW request if you don’t mind 😂 Idk if this is sexy (I think it is lol) but can you imagine writing a fic/ one shot where they’re in 7th year, and Sebastian and MC are alone somewhere chatting, and they start talking about sex - both having some experience in this. They’re just friends (but like each other) Seb reveals quite sheepishly in convo that he cums too quickly through bjs/sex. And she… offers to help ‘coach’ him lol? Which seems insane at first but then she says that she can help him through it, how he can trust her blah blah, and it convinces him (plus I think deep down he’s dying to be with her like this, and so is she). So they do it. And I can imagine it being quite intimate, hot, and maybe kinda funny at times.

(I asked you and applin by the way. I’m not sure if you’d both want to write different takes on it, collab, or decide who should write it - but I thought I’d mention it)

Hellooo lovely! Thank you for this fun request. Here's Part I -- this'll be at least a two-, maybe three-part series, so buckle up. (:

What Are Friends For? | Part I

Sebastian Sallow x F!OC

Rating: Explicit/MDNI (smut, language); all characters are 18+ Words: ~8,300 Tags: friends with benefits, friends to lovers, sexual exploration, oral sex, semi-public sex, mutual pining, 3rd person POV

Notes: Characters are 18-year-old seventh-year Slytherins.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Spring had settled nicely over the Scottish Highlands, meaning Sebastian Sallow could be found outdoors. He took advantage of the favorable weather whenever he could, as the winter months tended to make him rather stir crazy. 

On this particularly warm afternoon – or at least warm by April’s standards – Sebastian lounged lazily on his back in the grass near the edge of the Great Lake. He had charmed pebbles from the lakeshore to hover above him, perfect for some Confringo target practice.

Sebastian squinted an eye as he aimed and blasted the small rocks apart, leaving little trace of their existence, until one final rock remained. Sebastian followed it with the tip of his wand, waiting for the right moment, when–

“Accio!” 

The rock zipped from the air above Sebastian straight to the open hand of Stella Alves. She smirked at Sebastian, her wand hand still outstretched as she tossed the rock lazily toward him. It bounced off his stomach and into the grass.

“There you are,” Stella said as she approached. She sank to the ground next to Sebastian, her legs outstretched as she sat back on her hands. “I thought maybe Sharp had given you detention for Friday’s incident.”

“That incident wasn’t my fault,” Sebastian drawled. “It was Weasley’s.”

“Oh? Garreth forced you to add lionfish spine to your cauldron?” Stella mused.

“No, but he left it on the table near my ingredients, and I accidentally picked some up while I was adding griffin claw,” Sebastian noted. “Not my fault.”

“Fair enough,” Stella snorted. “Guess I should’ve known you’d be out here. Though we do have that arithmancy exam to be studying for.”

“Callum’s got Violet McDowell in our dorm room,” Sebastian explained. “Can’t study in there.”

“And you can’t study in the library? Or the Undercroft?”

“I suppose,” Sebastian said with a dramatic sigh. “But it’s far too nice out to be cooped up inside.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

The pair fell quiet for a moment, interrupted only by the occasional chirps from the birds perched in the surrounding trees. They both stared outward at the lake, its shimmering surface guarding the inhabitants of its indigo depths.

“Wait,” Stella finally said with a furrowed brow. “I thought Violet was going out with Andrew.”

“That was last month, apparently.”

“Oh.”

“That doesn’t mean you should get back with your ex, by the way.”

Stella turned her head to glare at Sebastian. “And who said anything about that? Andrew and I broke up ages ago.”

“Just checking,” Sebastian said in a sing-song tone. Stella scoffed at him. 

“Do you really think that poorly of me?”

“Of course not. But I do remember how in love with Larson you were.”

“I was not!” Stella insisted, her cheeks tinged with a treasonous shade of strawberry. “It was nothing more than a harmless fling.”

Sebastian tilted his head for dramatic effect. “A harmless fling,” he deadpanned. “Stella, darling, the two of you had to be damn near pried apart with a wedge every day.”

“So?” Stella countered with narrowed eyes. “A healthy sex life is nothing to be ashamed of. You of all people should know that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’ve no right to judge me for any of my past romantic encounters.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re calling them now,” Sebastian snickered. Stella smacked him gently on the back of the head.

“Sounds like you’re just bitter that you’re not the one in your dorm room with Violet McDowell,” she teased. Sebastian barked a sharp laugh.

“Darling, I’ve had Violet McDowell,” he noted. “Twice. Maybe three times. Can’t remember.”

“Charming,” Stella muttered blankly. Sebastian flashed her a cheeky grin. “Is there anyone you haven’t defiled?” Stella demanded.

“Other than you? Maybe a handful,” Sebastian chirped. He laughed at Stella’s disgusted expression. “Only joking, doll. Despite your harsh and judgmental assumptions, I haven’t made it a point to bed half of Hogwarts.”

“Oh? Then how many of our classmates have you had?”

They were inching toward tricky territory. Sure, Stella and Sebastian talked about sex, but they rarely revealed explicit details. Doing so always felt too suggestive, too flirtatious; it crossed an unspoken line that the pair avoided at all costs. But Stella had grown tired of the boys Hogwarts had to offer. It made her impatient and impulsive. Sebastian was the last man standing, because he was truly the only one standing – the one man she wanted and couldn’t have.

Meanwhile, Sebastian swallowed. He and Stella kept very few secrets from one another. After all, Stella had kept quiet about Sebastian’s sinister slip-up their fifth year, meaning Sebastian’s secrets couldn’t get much worse.

But there was one, tiny thing he didn’t want Stella to know. It was a secret that caused him constant stress, fearful that one of their female classmates would spill it. That was why Sebastian sometimes embellished his sexual escapades – to conceal the embarrassing occurrences that made him insecure.

“A-are you really asking me how many girls I’ve been with?” Sebastian asked, hopeful his tone sounded more amused than anxious.

“Why not?” Stella challenged. She, too, silently prayed her confidence was masking her pounding heart. “I’ll tell you the same.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. Now this was an intriguing offer. Though he knew Stella had sexual experience, she had never disclosed just how many of their classmates she’d granted such a privilege. 

But that would also mean revealing his own number of past partners. And while he would never judge Stella for her number, whatever it was, he feared she’d judge him for his. It wasn’t nearly as high as he often implied, though he’d never explicitly revealed it.

“All right,” Sebastian finally agreed. “Out with it then.”

Stella blanched. “What? No, you have to go first.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

“Fine. On the count of three?”

“Fine. One, two… three– four,” Sebastian revealed. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Stella said the same.

“Well?” Stella demanded with narrowed eyes. “What is it?”

Sebastian frowned in confusion. “I told you – four.”

“Oh. I thought you were still counting.”

“No, four is… is the number.”

“Oh.”

Sebastian suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. He wasn’t sure how Stella would react, but certainly not like that. Not with a simple, anticlimactic oh.

“Oh?” he demanded. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Stella’s cheeks were deep crimson now. “Nothing,” she said quickly, her voice squeaking several octaves higher than usual. “It’s just… I just…” Her eyes suddenly became fascinated by her own shoes. “I just thought yours would be higher, is all.”

“Why do you sound disappointed?”

“I’m not!” Stella insisted. “I mean, it’s not like it matters. It’s not like I care. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“Did you really think I’ve been with half the school?”

“Maybe not that many,” Stella said as she fidgeted uncomfortably. “Just more than me.”

“It’s not a competition,” Sebastian laughed. 

“I know that! I just- I really thought yours would be higher.”

“You really think I’m like that?”

“You know I don’t,” Stella huffed. “I just thought you were way more experienced than me.”

“Why, you want me to teach you a few things?”

“Sebastian!”

“Only joking, darling.”

Sebastian could sense the shift in their connection. Stella was genuinely surprised by his revelation, and seemed to feel guilty for it. Sebastian, ever the protector of Stella and her feelings, decided some vulnerability might relieve her discomfort.

“You’d be surprised,” Sebastian said, his eyes decisively avoiding hers. “By my experience – or lack of. It’s… it’s not been easy for me.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Stella asked with a curious gaze that Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to meet. 

“It means that sometimes… I struggle,” Sebastian said carefully. Stella clearly wasn’t catching on, because she was staring at him in utter confusion. 

“Struggle with what?” 

“With… sex,” Sebastian answered through a clenched jaw. He couldn’t believe he was revealing any of this to her of all people. He could have sworn he’d dig an early grave before ever admitting this, especially to the one and only girl whose opinion actually mattered to him.

“How do you mean?” Stella had now turned to face him fully, her attention clearly engrossed by this exchange.

Sebastian chickened out. “The details aren’t important,” he said, unable to quell the surge in fear that gripped his nerves.

“Seb, it’s me,” Stella said in her best encouraging tone. In truth, it only made Sebastian more uneasy. “You can tell me.”

There was no turning back from this. They hadn’t just toed the boundary, they’d leapt over it with a running start. Sebastian sighed.

“Sometimes I… finish quicker than I’d like,” he said through gritted teeth. Silence answered him. He considered flinging himself into the lake and sinking to its onyx depths, never to return and never to address such an embarrassing revelation.

“I see,” Stella finally said tactfully. Sebastian’s insecurities weren’t squashed.

“Yeah,” was all he could manage. The wheels in Stella’s head were turning at breakneck speed, desperate to find the right words. She was stunned. She’d never met someone as confident and self-assured as Sebastian. Though his bravado sometimes stoked her ire, she’d always assumed it carried over into the bedroom.

It was a vulnerable admission and Stella was touched to know Sebastian trusted her with it.

“Does… does it happen every time?” she asked gently.

Sebastian shrugged. “Not every time. But more often than I’d like to admit.”

“Oh.” Stella bit her lip, unsure how to proceed, but even more unsure of just how much information she was willing to seek. The thought – the dreadfully detailed visions – of Sebastian doing those acts with their classmates made Stella want to drive her own wand through her right temple. “Is it… do you think it’s because you’re just… excited to be with them?”

Sebastian began to sweat. Beads formed over his brow and hairline as he shifted in his spot on the grass. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I mean, it’s always exciting for me. I am an 18-year-old bloke, after all. But it’s not like I’ve ever been too enamored with any of the girls I’ve been with. Especially since I’ve been with a few of them more than once.”

“I see.”

“I guess maybe I just overthink it.” Sebastian was rambling now. His brain screamed at him to stop talking, that shutting the fuck up would be his best bet, but untamed words kept pouring from his mouth. “And maybe overthinking it makes me tense up. And maybe all that tension makes it hard for me to… contain myself.”

“I see.” Stella was quite aware that she wasn’t contributing much to the discussion at this point, but she couldn’t speak freely. She couldn’t tell Sebastian she was secretly relieved he hadn’t had dozens of girls in his bed. She couldn’t reveal that she wanted to be one of those girls. And she certainly couldn’t tell him that his admission only made her want him more.

Could she?

What if there was a way she could get what she had always wanted without admitting it? Would that be wrong and deceitful? She wouldn’t act without Sebastian’s full consent, but would it be wrong to initiate sex with him when she was secretly in love with him? And what if doing so made her fall even harder for him? 

Or worse, what if she offered and he said no?

But would it be so wrong for two friends to rely on each other to improve their natural desires to be good in bed? And shouldn’t two friends be the ideal participants in something as simple as self-improvement? 

Stella’s silence was driving Sebastian mad. He began to wonder how immoral it would be to obliviate her and make her forget they’d ever had such a conversation. But just as he was reminding himself that doing so was absolutely demented, she smiled kindly at him.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll sort it all out in time,” she said, hoping he understood her sincerity. “Maybe you just need a little more practice.”

“Er, right,” Sebastian agreed. Shame creeped across his cheeks in the form of a deep blush. He felt like an absolute fool. Surely, she must think he was a pathetic, sorry excuse of a man – an amateur who had no idea how to please a woman. And surely, she’d never see him on a romantic level now.

But Sebastian noticed that Stella was chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip. He waited for her to speak her mind, squirming as he fought to suppress his impatience.

Stella was working up the courage to propose something so bold, so forbidden, she’d surely die if Sebastian said no. And there was a very good chance he would. After all, they’d formed an impenetrable bond over the last near-three years. If Sebastian had any romantic interest in her, he would have certainly acted upon his feelings, right? 

Such a proposition could absolutely disintegrate their friendship. But this might be Stella’s only shot at exploring Sebastian Sallow in the one way she’d never known. She willed herself to be bold enough to take a chance.

“What if…” she began slowly, her palms sweating as she spoke. “What if I helped you practice?”

Her offer hovered in the air between them, a heavy haze that damn near made Sebastian choke as he processed the words. He had to have heard wrong. 

“Wh-what?” he said stupidly. “Practice what?”

“You know,” Stella said, fighting to maintain a casual air though her breathless words betrayed her. “Sex. I could help you practice.”

Sebastian shifted, certain that doing so would wake him from the very obvious dream he was having. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d dreamt of Stella in such a shameful manner. There was no other explanation for this. In no other realm of possibility would his best friend and the object of his unrequited desires be offering to have sex with him. But he wasn’t waking up. There were no bed curtains mocking him to remind him he was alone. There was no cold sweat or arousal that would need relieving in the boys’ showers. This was real.

“A-and how exactly would we do that?” Sebastian stuttered.

“We could just practice,” Stella said simply. “I could, you know, coach you through things. Different acts and positions and whatnot. We could practice them together until you, you know, gain more confidence.” When Sebastian didn’t immediately reply, it was Stella’s turn to babble on anxiously. “I just figure it makes sense, you know? We help each other out with everything else. It wouldn’t have to be any different than how we practice dueling together, or study together, right?”

But it would be different. They both knew that. But they were both too driven by desire to think better of it.

“And you’d… you’d be okay doing all that?” Sebastian asked softly. “With me?”

“Why not?” Stella offered boldly, though her shaking hands suggested otherwise. “I mean, we trust each other, right?”

“Right.”

“So why not? It seems like this could benefit us both. We can learn from each other, like everything else we do.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure how to respond. Of course he was going to say yes. He knew this arrangement could send their entire friendship spiraling south, but he was too desperate to know how it would feel to be with Stella to say no. This was his one and only chance to feel her, and to potentially convince her to consider him romantically. He could sweep her off her feet and make it impossible for her to think of anyone else.

Except there was that tiny, little problem of his inability to last long enough to prove himself to her. 

But if there was one thing Sebastian couldn’t resist (other than Stella), it was a challenge. He would learn. He’d figure it out or die trying. If this was his only shot at winning Stella over, he’d find a way, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to squander it.

But he also didn’t want to appear too eager. He didn’t want Stella to know he’d spent damn near every night dreaming about her in ways that would make her hair curl. She couldn’t know he’d spent day in and day out scheming ways to make her fall for him. He couldn’t let her know he was hopelessly, haphazardly in love with her.

“Well, I do suppose we tend to work together on everything else,” Sebastian mused carefully. 

“Do you… find me attractive enough that you could… you know…” Stella paused, terrified to ask such a question. “Become aroused.”

“Huh? Oh! Erm, of course.” The moment Sebastian answered, he wanted to sink into the ground, never to be seen again. But how else was he supposed to answer such a loaded question?

Stella was fucking stunning. Surely, she knew that. Surely, Sebastian didn’t have to tell her so. But he wanted to more than anything. He wanted to yank her by the collar of her shirt, pull her in close and tell her she was so beautiful, it made the heart inside his chest hurt and scream for relief.

“You’re beautiful, Stell. Do… do you find me, er, handsome enough to… you know?” Sebastian stammered.

Stella rolled her eyes. It was her most common defensive mechanism, her strongest veil for her insecurities. “Seb, come on,” she said, gazing at him with a pointed stare. She blinked for emphasis. “All the girls in our year practically fling themselves at you in hopes you’ll make them your wife when we graduate. You have to know you’re handsome.”

“Was just making sure.” 

And then came the silence. It squeezed itself around them until both of their airways felt constricted.

“So, are you saying you want to try it then?” Stella finally had the nerve to ask. She tucked her hands beneath her thighs in an attempt to keep herself from fiddling with her hair. It was her common tell for nervousness.

“I do if you do,” Sebastian replied, far too aware of the tightening sensation happening within his trousers. All this talk of sex was forcing the blood to rush from his brain to the one place he didn’t want Stella to see. But she’d see it all soon enough. 

“Alright,” Stella said with an air of forced confidence that she prayed sounded sexy and alluring. “When would you like to start?”

“Um, whenever it’s convenient for you.” Sebastian wanted to smack his palm against his forehead. He was speaking like he was in a formal job interview or having tea with the Minister of Magic, not agreeing to sex with his own best friend.

“We could start now,” Stella offered shyly. She glanced downward at the tent forming in Sebastian’s lap. Sebastian reddened even more.

“Oh. Okay, sure.”

Stella swallowed. This was it. She and Sebastian were going to plunge into the very risky waters of intimacy. But more importantly, he trusted her enough to guide him through one of life’s most personal, vulnerable endeavors. She wanted to get this right.

“We could use the Beasts classroom,” Stella offered. There were no classes that day. There’d be no reason for anyone to go anywhere near the classroom. At least that’s what Sebastian told himself as he found himself nodding in agreement.

Stella climbed to her feet and brushed loose blades of grass from the backs of her legs. It was then that Sebastian noticed how her skirt clung to her thighs. The pressure in his pants mounted.

Stella offered him her hand to help him up, her eyes averted as she led him toward the empty Beasts classroom. When they reached Professor Howin’s desk, Stella finally gathered the nerve to look Sebastian in the eye. Her gaze softened as she realized he was just as nervous as she was. The ever-confident Sebastian Sallow was unsure.

They didn’t speak at first, staring at one another as they both waited for the other to initiate action. Finally, Stella cleared her throat.

“Maybe we should start small,” she offered gently. “You know, foreplay stuff. Does that… does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sebastian croaked.

Stella’s eyes shifted to Sebastian’s very evident erection. Her breath hitched at the notion that it was all for her; because of her. She’d touched herself in the quiet solitude of her bed to the very thought on countless occasions.

As Stella subconsciously ran her tongue across her bottom lip in thought, Sebastian clenched his jaw. His cock was pressing far too hard against the stiff fabric of his trousers for his liking, and the sight of Stella looking so fucking seductive was already testing his control.

“Maybe you should lean back against the desk?” Stella suggested. Sebastian obeyed without a word. Stella stepped toward him, her nerves still evident as she slowly lifted a hand to reach toward Sebastian’s erection. “May I…”

Sebastian nodded silently, too terrified that words would ruin the moment. Stella eyed him for a moment longer until her fingertips traced gently along the length of Sebastian’s erection. He inhaled sharply through his nose.

“I’ll go slow,” Stella whispered. Her fingers moved with tact over his taut trousers, tracing tantalizing lines over him. She suppressed a moan as she realized just how hard – and big – he was. She could swear she felt Sebastian’s cock twitch beneath her touch. “Does that feel good?” she asked innocently.

Sebastian nodded slowly, his failing attempts at controlling his breathing evident.

“I’m going to pick up the pace,” Stella warned, her eyes searching Sebastian’s for any indication he wanted her to stop. Instead, he nodded earnestly. “Tell me if it’s too much. Just… just keep breathing.”

She stroked his length faster, the friction of the fabric rough beneath the pads of her fingers. A grunt rumbled from Sebastian’s throat.

He knew this would be difficult. It always was. But he hadn’t properly accounted for the fact that this was Stella touching him. The way she was determined to take care of him, the way her voice purred as she spoke… it all made his self-control even slimmer. He was terrified he was going to embarrass himself.

“Relax,” Stella ordered gently. “Remember, it’s just me, Seb. Trust me.”

She clearly had no idea how much she affected Sebastian. So as she gazed at him with a soft, doe-eyed stare, Sebastian’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the desk behind him. 

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut as he fought for control over his body. He didn’t want to tense, certain that would result in an accident. But when he felt Stella’s fingers fumbling with the button of his trousers, his eyes shot open wide and his spine straightened.

“Alright?” Stella asked, her voice raspier than usual. Sebastian pretended not to notice and nodded his reply. His throat dried as he watched Stella reach inside his open trousers and fish his erection out. It popped eagerly from the fabric, but remained rigid in Stella’s hand. Sebastian held his breath as he watched her fingers curl around him before she began to stroke him with her soft hand. The surreal sight felt like a vision only meant for one of Sebastian’s most explicit dreams.

Sebastian cursed under his breath at the sensation. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been touched like this, but this was Stella. This actually meant something, because she meant everything.

“Relax,” Stella repeated. “Stop tensing so much. It’s just me.” She flashed him a reassuring smile, unaware that her curved lips and bright eyes were Sebastian’s very undoing. “Take a deep breath and exhale slowly, okay?”

Sebastian nodded and obeyed, exhaling until his shoulders slackened and the tightness in his abdomen eased.

“Now close your eyes,” Stella added. Sebastian’s eyes fluttered shut. “Tell me what you feel.”

“I feel… fuck, that feels so good,” Sebastian breathed. 

“Tell me. Describe it.”

“Huh?”

“Just do what I say, you git.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure how describing their current sex act would help, but he certainly was in no position to argue. The only position he wanted to be in was on top of – or beneath – Stella, preferably with much less clothing between them.

“Your hands… they’re smooth,” Sebastian murmured with closed eyes. “Warm, too.”

“What do you usually think about when you come?”

Sebastian resisted the urge to pop open a panicked eye. He couldn’t exactly tell Stella that the answer was always her. He couldn’t possibly explain that picturing her plump lips, curious eyes and the curve of her full hips was always the tipping point that sent his body into a euphoric state. She couldn’t know she was the cause for his filthiest behavior. 

“Erm, I don’t know,” Sebastian lied. “I think about lots of different things.” He grunted as he felt Stella’s thumb swipe over the tip of his cock. 

“How’s this feel?” Stella asked, her hand pumping harder. 

“S-so good,” Sebastian panted. 

“Do you feel like you’re going to… you know?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Stella’s line of questioning stopped for a moment as she continued to stroke him. She was thankful Sebastian’s closed eyes couldn’t see the flush creeping over her, or the way her eyes lingered on his cock. He felt like velvet and looked like he was big enough to fill her completely – and then some. It made the ache between her thighs throb.

Stella watched as Sebastian’s chest began to rise and fall, his labored breaths audible inside the classroom. He didn’t notice as Stella fell to her knees, her hand still dragging around his shaft.

Sebastian’s eyes shot open again the moment he felt the moisture of her mouth surrounding him. This was a display beyond anything he could envision – such a sinful act performed by an angelic figure was a paradox his brain could never conjure. It was enough to make him moan. 

“Remember to breathe, okay?” Stella said, her eyes peering up at him. She returned her lips to his cock and Sebastian bit back a groan as they tugged around his tip. 

The classroom soon filled with the coarse sounds of lips pulling around wet skin. Sebastian’s hands tangled in Stella’s hair, tightening as the coil inside him did the same. He was careening toward the edge, unsure how to stop himself.

He tried to breathe through it, but he was far beyond the threshold of sensory overload. The feeling of Stella’s mouth hungrily engulfing his cock, the vision of her on her knees before him, the sounds of her gurgling around his length – Sebastian was sure there wasn’t a single soul who would be immune to such divine sensations.

“Stella,” Sebastian panted. “I can’t-”

Stella hummed, the vibrations coursing around Sebastian’s cock until he was surging toward his ending. He didn’t want this to stop, but couldn’t help but feel impressed with himself for lasting as long as he had, especially given the circumstances.

“Stella…” Sebastian repeated. The warning merely spurred Stella on. She was eager to prove to him just how worthy she was to coach him through this. She'd show him just how good she could be at this - better than Violet McDowell or any other dumb girl who dared to approach Sebastian. Her cheeks hollowed and she sucked harder, her eyes watering as Sebastian’s tip dabbed the back of her throat. 

Sebastian let out a sharp shout, his hips jutting forward as his cock twitched. The small of his back pressed against the edge of the desk as he spilled into Stella’s mouth. Her throat closed around his tip, the warmth of her flesh guiding his release downward as she swallowed.

When it was over, Stella released him, his cock bobbing as it popped from her mouth. She remained on her knees while Sebastian caught his breath, his chest quietly rising and falling as he slumped against the desk. 

They didn’t speak. Sebastian quelled the urge to thank Stella, to praise her and tell her how fucking good she was, while Stella withheld the desire to beg Sebastian for more.

“You alright?” Sebastian finally asked, his eyes searching Stella for any signs that she was upset. But she smiled upward at him and nodded assuredly. 

Sebastian extended a hand to help her to her feet until the pair stood, the awkward silence exposing their uncertainty on how to proceed. But Stella reminded herself that she had promised to help Sebastian, and she was never one to back out on her word.

“So how was that?” she asked casually as Sebastian tucked himself back into his trousers.

Sebastian’s brain stuttered. The truth was it was the most incredible encounter he’d ever had, simply because he’d shared it with her. But that kind of honesty would surely sever whatever this was – and the entirety of their friendship.

“It was… you… you’re brilliant,” Sebastian finally managed, still shocked that such a lewd act had just occurred with the girl he'd deemed his best friend for more than two years. Stella seemed content with his analysis.

“I think the problem is you’re just so damn tense the entire time,” she noted. It was bizarre to be assessing a sexual encounter with her best friend like they were discussing quidditch tactics, but she had offered to coach him, hadn’t she?

But her evaluation had fallen on deaf ears, because now, Sebastian’s guilt was dissecting his brain. 

“You didn’t… I didn’t…” he started, his voice trailing off. “...How can I repay the favor?”

“You don’t need to,” Stella said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Not this time.”

Sebastian frowned – mostly because he didn’t want to be greedy, but also because he was desperate to touch her and wouldn’t forgive himself if he missed the opportunity to do so. He had to know how she felt, so yielding beneath his touch, how she moaned, how she looked when she fell apart at his orchestration.

“Please,” Sebastian pressed. “I can’t let you walk away without your share.”

Stella snorted. “Seb, really, it’s fine,” she promised. “You can make it up to me later.” She smirked as she smoothed out her skirt. “I’m pretty sure we’re just getting started.”

—

Sebastian was certain the entire afternoon had been some kind of demented dream when he woke up the following morning. But the details were far too vivid in his memory to have been a figment of his imagination; Stella’s fingers tracing over every ridge of his cock, her lips raw and red after they had wrapped around him, the plush sensation of her throat hugging his tip. It was better than any dream.

But now, how was he meant to face her? Guilt had clawed away at him the entire evening for not returning the favor. Now, all he could think about was how eager he was to do so. And what about their friendship? Had they really been stupid enough to jeopardize their entire bond all because of some suppressed sexual tension?

The war within his head made Sebastian want to sink into his porridge at breakfast. Ominis, sensing his friend’s tension, raised an eyebrow from the seat across from him.

“Alright mate?” Ominis asked. But Sebastian was too busy straightening in his seat to hear him. Stella was approaching the Slytherin table.

“Good morning,” she said breezily as she took the seat next to Ominis. Sebastian watched as she reached for a pastry, his eyes glued to her hands – those same hands that grabbed at his cock just hours before. He swallowed.

“Morning,” he managed. His eyes searched Stella for any indication of awkward tension, but she seemed as calm and content as ever.

“Have you two studied for tomorrow’s arithmancy exam?” Ominis asked. 

“No,” Stella said as she shook her head, her right cheek puffed out from a large bite of pastry. “Not yet. Haven’t had the time.”

“Me neither,” Sebastian chimed in.

“Haven’t had the time? What were the two of you doing all day yesterday? I didn’t see either of you after lunch,” Ominis said suspiciously. Stella shrugged while Sebastian began to spiral toward a panic attack. 

“Oh, we went to Hogsmeade,” Stella explained with casual ease. “I rescued a handful of diricrawl the other day and took them to Brood and Peck.” 

Sebastian blinked. It was rather alarming – and impressive – how easily the lie left Stella’s lips. Of course, Ominis wouldn’t mind if he learned his two closest friends had spent an afternoon engaged in illicit sex acts, but none of it actually meant anything, right? Meaning there was no point in disclosing such details to Ominis.

Sebastian was pulled from his spiraling thoughts when Stella’s stare shifted to him. “Perhaps we can study tonight?” she asked him. Her eyes glimmered pointedly and Sebastian picked up on her implication.

“Er, yeah,” he agreed as his stomach performed a series of somersaults. “Tonight.”

“Well, as enthralling as it would be to pour over charts tonight, I’ll have to leave you two to it,” Ominis prattled on, unaware that no one would be studying numerical values that evening. “I’ve got to pen an ancient runes essay and I promised to help Violet McDowell.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but snicker. “That all you’re helping her with, mate?”

Ominis scowled as Stella snorted. “Unlike some people, I actually care about my studies,” he said, his tone taking on a self-righteous air. “Right, Stella?”

Sebastian couldn’t help but bite back a laugh as Stella nearly choked on her pumpkin juice. “Oh, right you are, Ominis,” she said as she stole a quick glance at Sebastian. “Some of us are quite dedicated to our studies.”

Sebastian smirked into his own juice.

—

Hours later, Sebastian found himself pacing outside of the library. Stella had instructed him to meet her there, which sent Sebastian into a confused, manic state.

Had she decided she’d no longer help him with his little problem? Had yesterday been a letdown? Had she expected more from him? Why weren’t they meeting someplace more private? Had Sebastian misread Stella’s eyes? Were they actually going to study? He’d left all his books in his dormitory.

“Hey.”

Sebastian looked up to see Stella approaching. She wore another skirt that barely draped from her curves, making it difficult for Sebastian to focus on much else – though the top button of her blouse had popped open, serving as another excruciating distraction.

“Hey,” Sebastian croaked. Stella raised an amused eyebrow at him.

“Alright?” she asked.

Sebastian nodded. “Ready to… study?” 

Something flickered in Stella’s eyes that told Sebastian books and notes were not on the evening’s itinerary. “Ready,” she said, hoping she sounded more intriguing than nervous.

She started toward the nearest library door and Sebastian followed as she descended the staircase. The library was quiet, even for its usual standards. A small group of students sat at the right table, anxiously shuffling through Transfiguration notes. A fifth-year girl sat quietly in one corner, a romance novel open in her lap, while Duncan Hobhouse was flipping through an Herbology book at a table to himself.

“Come on,” Stella whispered as she led Sebastian to a table at the far end of the library, free from any students. She gathered an armful of books from the nearest shelf and dropped them on the table, her chair quietly scraping against the wood floor. She opened one to a random page to make it appear as if she was studying.

Sebastian took the seat next to her, his knees feeling wobbly as he lowered himself. He sat with a stiff back, his posture uncharacteristically prim and proper. It made Stella smirk.

“Relax!” she hissed quietly, one hand finding the top of Sebastian’s left knee beneath the table. It was anything but soothing. The muscles of Sebastian’s thighs went rigid and Stella gave his knee a gentle squeeze. His trousers were already feeling tight. Stella snuck a sideways glance at Sebastian, who was holding his breath. “If you make it through this test, I’ll reward you with something even better.”

Merlin, help him. He was a goner.

Stella slid a book in front of him. “Here,” she instructed. “Pretend you’re reading this.”

If her hand hadn’t been wandering up his leg, Sebastian would have laughed. It was an Introduction to Dueling book meant for first-years.

Sebastian flipped the book open to its center pages and focused on the words to keep himself from reacting to Stella’s hand, which was presently exploring his inner thigh. He gripped the edge of the table when it found his erection.

“How are you so hard already?” Stella whispered in his ear. Sebastian shot her a sideways glare.

“Kind of difficult to be anything but hard when you’re making lofty promises,” he growled back.

The friction of Stella’s hand running over the fabric of Sebastian’s trousers was just as glorious and agonizing as it had been the day before. Sebastian began to wonder if he was a hopeless case; a lost cause, meant to live his days in misery because he was too infatuated with his best friend to focus on their “practice.”

Stella shuffled in her seat and before Sebastian could react, she was unbuttoning his pants. 

“Are you mad?” he hissed. Stella merely shrugged.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“...No.”

"That's what I thought."

Stella’s hand disappeared, her fingers grazing the skin of Sebastian’s waist before they found the base of his cock inside his pants. Sebastian chewed his bottom lip to stifle a groan. Stella traced a teasing finger down the full length of his shaft until it found the tip, where she made tiny circular motions. Her movements were slow and tantalizing, signaling her genuine intent to help Sebastian learn to withstand such pleasure.

But the forbidden nature of their act was making it far too difficult for Sebastian to focus on the task at hand. The thrill of sharing such a salacious moment with Stella made his heightened arousal evident in his flushed cheeks and strained breathing. Stella seemed to notice he was struggling, because her strokes around his cock became slower and gentler.

“Close your eyes,” she hummed quietly. Sebastian nodded and let his eyelids flutter shut. Stella squirmed against her chair, her own arousal testing her patience. As much as she enjoyed the power of controlling Sebastian’s ultimate undoing, she was desperate for her own. She wanted nothing more than for him to treat her the same.

But for now, Stella was content with studying Sebastian’s face. She gazed at him in quiet adoration, her eyes scanning his flushed cheeks and the locs of tousled hair that had fallen out of place. She watched as his jaw clenched and unclenched with certain strokes of his cock, particularly the way the muscles strained whenever her thumb pressed against his tip. She would have sold her soul to merely climb into his lap and kiss every freckle on his face.

Her focus on Sebastian’s handsome features forced Stella’s attention to falter. Just as she found herself wondering if Sebastian was good with his own hands, Sophronia Franklin rounded a corner and strode into view.

Stella jumped, her surprise causing her fist to squeeze around Sebastian’s shaft as her elbow smashed against the table with a sharp bang. She swore loudly as the pain stung through her arm while Sebastian yelped, his eyes popping open in surprise.

Stella did her best to remain still, her palm pressed against Sebastian’s cock as she smiled politely at Sophronia, who was studying the pair with a quizzical stare. Stella returned her eyes to the book in front of her, pretending to think critically about the prose on its pages.

“Perhaps this spell would conjure manacles to bind the person on the receiving end,” she mused loud enough for Sophronia to hear. But her plan backfired, as Sophronia stopped in her tracks to double back.

“Were you two just talking about the alternate form of Incarcerous?” she asked curiously. She stood about three feet from the table, seemingly oblivious to the debauchery occurring beneath it.

“Oh,” Stella blinked. “Um, sort of. But doesn’t Incarcerous conjure ropes?”

“It does.” Sophronia nodded in approval of Stella’s knowledge. “But a modified version of the spell can conjure manacles.”

“Manacles,” Stella repeated blankly.

“Yes. You know, like shackles used for fastening hands or ankles,” Sophronia offered.

“Right.” 

“I can’t imagine what one would use them for nowadays,” Sophronia continued. “But I suppose they have their uses.”

“Can’t imagine,” Sebastian chimed in tersely through gritted teeth. Stella squeezed her hand gently to send a message. Sebastian wheezed.

“I suppose manacles might be a bit sturdier than rope,” Sophronia rattled on. “Much more secure, at least. They’d certainly be more likely to keep people in their place.”

“How wonderful for them,” Stella said stupidly.

Sophronia, seemingly bored with the rather one-sided discussion, shrugged and spun on her heels to continue toward the spiral staircase. Stella and Sebastian sat in still silence as she ascended, waiting in searing agony until her footsteps faded.

“Fucking hell,” Sebastian whined, his shoulders slumping forward. “Can you be more careful?” 

Stella clearly found the encounter more amusing than unsettling. She shot Sebastian a sheepish smile, which instantly dissolved his aggravation.

“Sorry,” she offered. “My bad. Didn’t notice her coming.”

“Yeah well, keep it up and she won’t be the only one.”

Stella snorted, eliciting a shush from Sebastian, who was looking positively distressed. 

“We should probably move,” Stella noted, her eyes scanning the area for any more potential intruders. “Consider this the passage of your test and the start of your reward. I’ve got just the place.”

“We can’t risk the Restricted Section just yet,” Sebastian said. “It’s too early. Scribner’s still around.”

“Not the Restricted Section,” Stella said as she removed her hand from Sebastian’s trousers. He swallowed a whimper at the sudden absence of her touch. “I know a better place.”

She waited for Sebastian to adjust his clothing before she stood, the books forgotten on the tabletop. She made a sweeping glance around the room before brandishing her wand to apply a disillusionment charm. Sebastian blinked at her invisible form and followed suit. 

“Where are you? I can’t follow you if I can’t see you,” he hissed. The sudden feeling of Stella’s hand closing around his wrist was his answer. Stella guided him quietly across the library toward the fireplace.

“Glacius,” Stella breathed. The flames dissolved and she tugged Sebastian through the fireplace to the small, discreet room on the other side to shed her disillusionment spell. “See? Told you this is better.”

“How the hell did you even find this place?” Sebastian demanded as his own disillusionment charm fell. He gazed around the space, impressed by the tapestries on the walls and furniture in the corner.

“Shh!” Stella clapped a hand over his mouth and shot him a sharp look. “No one can see us but they can still hear us. Remember, we’re in the library so silencing charms won’t work.”

“Still one of Scribner’s most asinine ideas,” Sebastian muttered. 

Stella whispered “Incendio” to reignite the flames in the fireplace, closing them in and guarding them from any wandering passerby. When she turned to face Sebastian again, her eyes drifted downward. His trousers were still tented. Now completely alone, Stella’s mind began to run wild with ideas of all the things she wanted to do with him.

“Wait,” Sebastian whispered as Stella reached to unbutton his pants again. He stopped her with a gentle hand around her wrist. “When do I get to return the favor for you?”

Stella squeezed her thighs together. The thought of Sebastian touching her had been burning between her legs for quite some time.  “Now, if you want.”

Sebastian didn’t hesitate. His hands snapped to her waist and he pulled her closer. “Now’s as good a time as any,” he murmured. He nudged her gently toward the armchair in the corner, guiding her backward until the backs of her legs met the seat. Stella sat and Sebastian dropped to his knees in front of her. 

His hands skimmed beneath the hem of her skirt and over her porcelain thighs. The heat between them made his cock stir with desire. As Sebastian bunched her skirt up around her waist, Stella held her breath. His eyes settled on the damp spot at the center of her panties. He stared for a moment as he mustered the courage to touch her.

It was finally happening. He was going to discover the depths of Stella he’d assumed were only reserved for his dreams. But he could feel himself starting to freeze, gripped by his insecurities that he wouldn’t be able to impress her. 

As Stella caught his gaze, Sebastian could feel his intensity soften. She smiled at him, her warmth radiating through him with a sense of comfort only she could offer. Sebastian decided he wasn’t going to leave that library until he had Stella squirming from his touch.

He planted a trail of kisses up Stella’s right thigh. He could hear her inhale sharply, her hips lifting off the chair as the ache became unbearable within her core.

Sebastian’s hands drifted toward her hips, peeling the waistband of her panties downward until they pooled around her ankles. The sight of her soaked entrance ignited an invigorating surge of avidity in him. He’d fling himself into the flames of that fireplace before he allowed anyone to deny him a taste.

But first, he needed to touch her. He had to know how soft, how slick she felt. When his thumb made contact with her clit, Stella whimpered. He pressed against it, the pink flesh warm, wet and arousing. 

Sebastian swiped his thumb, drawing a soft moan of approval from Stella. He began dragging his thumb back and forth in a steady rhythm while he sank a slow finger inside her. The surge of moisture surrounding his finger made Sebastian curse under his breath. There was no way he’d last long enough to bend Stella over the desk like he wanted, but if there was one thing he would ensure, it was to make Stella moan his name by any means possible.

Sebastian’s index finger pulled upward against her front wall as his thumb continued its assault on her clit. The fireplace room soon filled with the lewd sound of slick flesh, but the library’s visitors remained none the wiser.

Stella’s knees parted more as Sebastian added a second finger inside her, dipping and dragging against her walls in desperate determination to incite her undoing.

“God, Sebastian,” she breathed, her fingers gripping the armrests as she clenched her cunt around his fingers to coax her release. Sebastian hastened his movements, his fingers dabbing at the sensitive and spongy flesh until Stella was practically riding his hand. 

She let out a quiet whine as her hips lifted off the chair, grinding her cunt around Sebastian’s fingers until she was hurtling toward her pinnacle. The pressure within her core mounted, her walls pulling greedily at Sebastian’s fingers until they began to quiver. 

Stella unleashed a breathy hiss as she climaxed, her thighs clamped around Sebastian’s fingers in an attempt to prolong her peak. Her walls pulsed as his fingers continued to beckon. When the quaking subsided, she was breathless and sweaty, albeit fully satisfied.

But Sebastian wasn’t. Now, it was time for a taste.

Stella flinched when Sebastian’s tongue made contact with her sensitive entrance, but her hands immediately pulled at his hair, demanding more from him. Sebastian lapped at her folds and hummed in arousal at her taste. The pressure in his pants was excruciating.

His tongue flattened against her clit, pressing and prodding until Stella’s legs were shaking.

“Sebastian,” she panted, unsure if she could withstand the sensitivity between her thighs. But the way her hips were jutting upward, pressing her entrance against his tongue, told him she wanted more.

He drove his tongue harder against her clit, forcing it in swift, short swipes until Stella’s feet were kicking from the pleasure swelling inside her nerve endings. 

Her back arched and her nails sank into the back of Sebastian’s neck as heat sprawled across her cunt, its ripples triggering a blissful shriek from her. Sebastian was too preoccupied to address the sinful sounds threatening to expose them. The tight, binding tension inside him cracked. He swore loudly as the sensation of Stella’s seeping arousal against his tongue sent him over the edge.

When both of their highs had subsided, they froze, fearful for the sound of approaching footsteps that never came. Sebastian remained rooted in place, shame spreading over his features. 

This had never happened to him before. Sure, he’d had those premature incidents, but those always occurred as a result of someone touching him. It had never happened at the mere sight of someone else’s orgasm.

Stella couldn’t help but smirk at the damp spot that had appeared on his pants. The sheer thought of her release triggering Sebastian’s own undoing was more empowering than any bit of ancient magic. Sure, it was counterproductive to the coaching she had promised, but considering he had satisfied her – twice – she decided there’d be plenty more opportunities for carnal education.

And selfishly, there was something quite satisfying about causing the temporary downfall of the great Sebastian Sallow. She’d never admit to it, though.

“Alright?” Stella asked tenderly.

“What do you think?” Sebastian muttered as he brandished his wand. “Scourgify.”

“I think,” Stella mused as she pulled her panties back up, “Maybe we started with the stakes too high.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we should try a more private setting – someplace where you’ll actually relax,” Stella explained. “Maybe these… public places are causing you too much stress.”

“What are you, my therapist now?”

“Sex therapist,” Stella quipped with a smirk. Sebastian turned red again. “To be fair,” Stella continued in a serious tone, “This therapy session was quite a stress reliever for me, so at least one of us benefited from it.” She frowned slightly as she rose to her feet. “I really was going to reward you, though.”

“Trust me,” Sebastian mumbled. “You’ve done plenty.”

Stella grinned as she flicked her wand toward the fireplace to freeze the flames. “What are friends for?”

[afurtivecake]

Found this languishing in my drafts file from when I first finished AFTG and felt the urge to just write: Andrew's POV of the scene after Nicky gets Neil all dolled-up for his first trip to Colombia.

cw: none

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

Fuck Nicky to hell. 

That was the first coherent thought that came to Andrew’s mind the moment he saw Neil emerge from the bathroom. 

After everything Andrew had said to Kevin, to Wymack — to fucking Bee — about how they were all so fucking wrong about Neil Josten, it was disappointing that the one person whose initial assessment hadn’t been wrong was Nicky. 

Nicky, who was as shallow as he was gay, and equally loud about both, had noticed it the moment he laid eyes on Neil. While the rest of them were distracted by Neil’s behaviour, trying to figure out what kind of broken Kevin’s skittish, new striker was, Nicky’s dumbass brain had gone straight for the first incontrovertible truth about Neil. Or rather, his dick had. 

How fucking disappointing, Andrew thought to himself as he took Neil by the back of his neck and turned those piercing blue eyes full of defiance and palpable discomfort on himself.

He fought Andrew only a bit, and only out of instinct. Like Kevin, there was fear there, cut deep into him by the hands of others, though none of that fear was for Andrew. 

Neil had been given the chance to run. Instead, he had dressed himself in the clothes Andrew had gotten for him and bared those blue eyes because Andrew had made him, all while exuding a hostility that Andrew had put there.

“Damn, Neil! You clean up good!” Nicky said, smiling the smug smile of someone who had known all along that his taste in men was impeccable and couldn’t be fooled by whatever shabbiness Neil Josten tried to hide himself under.

Andrew shouldn’t have noticed the soft fuzz of hair beneath his fingers, or the warmth of the skin pulsing with a rabbit-quick beat under his tight hold. He shouldn’t have felt anything about it without the drugs adding its peachy-tinted haze. 

Neil ignored Nicky and glared pure dislike down at Andrew. Andrew smiled. 

Good, Andrew thought. A fizzle of satisfaction tickled against his chest that he squashed down.

Good, because he hated him too. 

And he had the whole night to prove it.

[ash-leyley]

everyone is so shocked about andrew SUDDENLY!!! being fucked in the head and some people are calling decay 3A something that's "ruined his character" but like. yeah??? its 6 hours of nearly ALL andrew POV shenanigans where you delve deep into his mind. the previous chapter was 50/50 split with andrew's and ashley's POV and chapter 1 was only from ashley's POV. and andrew, you know, has this whole Thing about Really Wanting to be Seen as Normal. INCLUDING around his sister.

idk if you had your eyes open when you played the game but like that is a very VERY crucial part to it.

on another note and gonna be honest too, the fact that some of yall are real ass human beings having such a personal attachment to the emotional state of a Fictional character, that you get mad genuinely in real life at the dev when you see him being a bad person in the "THESE TWO ARE BAD PEOPLE" game. Ok.

[witcheshollow]

Finishing the golden raven knocked me the fuck out so my Coherent and Eloquent thoughts are gonna have to wait so enjoy this very spoilery mash up of whatever is coming to mind now before I do a proper deep dive

-I was really expecting more in terms of jerejean development, but Im not surprised that nora is waiting until the last book. I would assume there is also a bit to do with them having originally not been intended for one another... and on that front I dont remember nora ever confirming them officially just her deleting the ec and saying she isnt letting it define these three books. Which does point to jerejean endgame but ((and correct me NICELY if im wrong)) she never officially said the two of them are to get together.

-tagging off that point: something about the pacing of this book felt very similar to the pacing of tkm. There were quite a few scenes that felt very similar to tkm, the general flow was also very similar. Just instead of jerejeans relationship forming we got jean forming relationships in general

-again tagging onto that, the scene where he braided lailas hair was the scene that made me cry hardest.

-what we saw of the foxes made me so violently ill in the best way possible. The fear in jean at seeing neil laying on the court floor after a raven check AGAIN was so brutal, even through jeremys pov. I dont think we would have survived the raven/fox game through jeans eyes tbh. Jean had too much on the line. He would never admit it but he loves neil, Neil is essentially family to him. We see that in his blind and unending trust in him

-again, sue me, speaking of that. Why the fuck did neil not tell AT LEAST Andrew abt his doings in california??? Was it to avoid bringing up andrews trauma?? Bc anything else goes so violently against everything that andriel is i will not stand for it. If this fandom is good at one thing its saying to hell with canon and making up what we want to believe and I will blind myself into whatever fanon I need to if we get a reason for neils omission as anything other than misguided protection of Andrew. Bc yes, it would be misguided. Letting his bf know he put a fucking hit out on someone is smt he should have done despite the state and circumstances. Though I digress

-back to jean and the fox/raven game. He was so fucking worried abt neil and andrew that I all out refuse to believe we wont get more updates. I know that this series is jeans, and Im not saying give either of them a pov or anything, but it would be nice if we got to see the two of them have a conversation with Jean together in the next book. Maybe andrews arm slung across neils shoulders as they watch him graduate??

-im pretty sure what we are leading up to championship wise is a fox/trojan showdown. Despite what Jean said abt not knowing if the foxes can pull off a miracle two years in a row and the whole freshman fox situation, Im betting that is going to be where we end. And as far as who wins, I have no guesses. The foxes beat the ravens at full strength with nine players and a prayer. Despite how badly the last of the ravens fucked them up, I am willing to put good money that nora will plot armor their asses to championships.

-speaking of plot armor, how the fuck did andrew manage to take neils weight, even if it wasnt all of it, to help him off the field with a broken clavicle that required surgery???? Ik wymack and abby got there in a couple seconds but Andrew still managed to do it

-okay Ill, begrudgingly, put the foxes aside bc i have more thoughts

-I love jeremy, Jean, cat and lailas casual intimacy with one another. The four of them move as a singular unit half the time and it holds a special place in my heart

-I do kind of think that this next book is going to end with Jeremy forsaking his family. We are seeing the cracks in whatever resolve he had up and to this point. And to back that up, while their different in so many ways, the series is taking some hints from the structure of the original trilogy and with that I dont think its an unreasonable stretch to assume that there is going to be another "who is he going to choose" moment. And how beautiful would that be to have the choice be between soulmate and family yet again? This time tho I think we will get a clearer answer if this happens again bc it genuinely took me like two full rereads of the og trilogy to piece together that andrew actually chose neil and I know from friends that Im not alone in this.

-as far as jerejean, I do think that the progression of their relationship is going to be similar tho different from andriels. Also I use their ship names to refere to them bc im too exhausted to type out their names, sue me. Anyways, I think that as far as similarities, there is a good chance it is going to start out sexual. Jeremy doesnt have enough belief in himself to have an actual relationship and Jean still has a lot of internalized homophobia from the nest ((riko)) to sort through. If I had to make an educated guess I would say something abt Jean reclaiming his body and Jeremy slowly realizing that he is allowed to give this part of himself to someone who actually cares for him. Though as far as how I think their gonna be different from andriel... well I mean it doesnt take a genius to figure that their probably going to be a bit more openly affectionate/quite a bit less derranged. I do also assume that if we get a canonical endgame jerejean that Jeremy is going to have to cut ties with his family. They are violently homophobic and will probably not have any interest in entertaining the idea of jeremy being associated with them any further

-stepping away from their relationship bc i just remembered something. Jeremy calls his father sir, which i know is a thing a lot of military kids do but it is also obviously indicative that Jeremy has respect for this man regardless of his continued absence in his life. It might just be that he is the parent who wasnt there to be abusive towards him... or it might be that jeremys father, in some way, deserves the respect?? We know Jeremy has a complicated relationship with his family and how he sees them we see that in his "shes my mom cat" towards the end and ofc throughout the rest of the book. But Jeremy was the one who kept reaching out, and kept his fathers calls logged in a journal, and still refers to him with honorifics- i want more Jeremy lore

-back to jerejean, im willing to bet that we are going to get an "i cant pick him over my family" breakdown from Jeremy and Im guessing that it is going to be William who helps him make the decision. "If you cant tell whos side im on your not as smart as I thought" or whatever it was that he said. He wants Jeremy to be happy, he knows Jeremy is not happy in that damn house, and he has shown that he is willing to buck the rules to ensure that Jeremy can scrounge up whatever joy he can.

-I think jeans moment of panic is going to be more of an internal thing, like "am I even good enough to ask Jeremy to forsake his family for me" and despite all the logic I think it is going to be Neil who he calls. Bc Neil did that. As far as Jean knows Neil could have deadass looked at Andrew and went "me or Aaron" he wasnt there for it like we were. And I think Neil is going to be his usual criptic self but give enough reassurance that he gets an affectionate "your a vile wretch" from Jean or smt of the sort.

-wymack still considering Jean one of his kids even if he isnt a fox warms my heart. He called Jean. He let kevin send Jean to California. He was willing to do whatever Jean asked. Wymack my love

-speaking of coaches who kill me every chance they get: rhemann. Fucking hell i love that man. He had my heart before jeans breakdown but afterwards? He earned himself a nice shiny spot next to wymack. With the way Jean described the preceeding events Im assuming rhemann had to carry him out of the gold court or at the very least shoulder most of his weight to get him out bc Jean seemed fairly out of it, and rhemann definetly had to carry him into the house once they got there bc if jeans recollection is right Im pretty sure he was unconscious and if not then so heavily disassociated I dont think he would have been coherent enough.

-also small shout out to rhemann and adi, love them

-the end scene of the book has me conflicted. And this is probably going to be my last bullet point bc I am dead tired rn. While I do, obviously, understand that Jean wasnt sure what Jeremy was doing when he leaned over to kiss rex/jaberwackys head, I dont really understand what Jeans gut reaction there was. He doesnt explain in his internal monologue, he is far more worried abt making Jeremy less terrified and keeping the dog safe. But the reaction was instinctual, almost seemingly second nature. Which I dont 100% understand. Jeremy and Jean are often very close to one another, in each others orbit more than their not to quote Jean ((yes I know he said this abt andriel that isnt what I meant)) and Jean has stated repeatedly that he whole heartedly trusts Jeremy. Also the gut reaction in context doesnt necessarily make sense to me, it might be a me thing Im not discrediting that, and also traumatized people sometimes have instincts that only make sense to them if that bc their brain is in survival mode, so it might have been an attempt by nora to show that, but having it as the last scene in the book feels odd to me. The only thing I can assume is that Jean wasnt processing what was happening just saw jeremy coming at him quickly and reacted but also we see him not reacting to other similar situations often. You could argue that its bc Jean has feelings for Jeremy but we see Jean not reacting to Jeremy making fast movements, getting in his space and touching him throughout the series so far so I just dont get it. Now there could be a less meta reason for it, being that nora needed smt to trigger Jean thinking abt how the rules he has held to arent in place anymore but they are for him but maybe he could let them go but trauma. But he thinks pretty similar thoughts in other parts of the series too so I just dont understand. And it might be me, Im not saying it vouldnt be. Idk, I feel like the last scene in thebbook was an odd place to have such a vaugely explained and not previously seen trauma response from Jean towards Jeremy.

Okay thats all. Im gonna reread the series with tgr and give more well rounded and coherent thoughts some time in the next week. If you read all of this consider yourself a saint

[asexual-juliet]

saw the outsiders musical last night (7/20/24) and thought i would make a little post about some of my favorite parts!! brody, sky & daryl were out so i saw trevor wayne as pony, josh strobl as johnny & henry julián gendron as two-bit!

there’s a bit after pony gets jumped by the socs where darry and soda are cleaning the blood off his face and when they’re done and have gotten up johnny comes and sits next to him and takes out a rag and starts also cleaning pony’s face <3 it’s so so sweet

henry does a couple little opt-ups as two-bit in both grease got a hold and hoods turned heroes where i was like “ooh!” i adore daryl tofa so i was a little disappointed when i found out i wouldn’t be able to see him but henry was SO fantastic!! such a talented dancer and you could tell he was having so much fun with the character! such a standout for me.

was deeply impressed by how many items were successfully thrown and caught in grease got a hold like holy shit dude

the LIGHTING in great expectations has pony pointing his flashlight at darrel on “darrel was on his way up in the world” & johnny on “johnny has no kind of chance in this world” and then as the verse goes on he points it at all of the greasers standing all over the stage and the light lingers on them for the rest of the song it’s so fucking cool-looking! and during the chorus the stage starts to look like a starry sky which is a choice they bring back for the little great expectations reprise at the end of far away from tulsa. 

the moment where pony & johnny do their little cool guy walks over to cherry and marcia at the drive-in with their popped collars was so precious to me

i ADORE cherry valance and i ADORE emma’s take on her!! her little convo with pony at the drive-in was really sweet and i loved that they chose not to make the dynamic feel like a crush on ponyboy’s part it was such a nice moment of two people finding and genuinely understanding each other so deeply <3

lighting sound & everything was so next-level during the fountain scene-bob’s death like i don’t even think i can describe it it was so much and so crisp and so visceral in the absolute best way

staging for run run brother was SO cool — there’s a part at the end where they use the tires and boards from the set to make two platforms that the other actors can roll them back and forth while johnny is on one and pony on the other and they roll them away from each other and they are both reaching out so desperately towards each other its so fantastic

i also really liked the part in run run brother where dally gives pony his jacket like he just wordlessly put it on for him it’s so nice

lighting & subsequent blackout at the end of run run brother as pb&j are in the air after jumping off the “train” was ELITE

pony is holding johnny’s switchblade during death’s at my door and at the end of the song johnny reaches out to take it from him but he doesn’t pull away so he’s just holding pony’s hand and then he puts his other hand over pony’s too and they sit there like that until the lights go down <3

LOVED what they’ve done with darry’s character here!! i know people have some nitpicky things with it but he is such a fascinating character and i’m so glad that the musical theater medium was able to do so much with him that the limited pov of the novel couldn’t — brent comer plays darry so so well and my heart aches for him like fuck dude he cares about his brothers so fucking much and he’s doing his best and he’s so so tired :((( give him a break!!

jason schmidt’s voice is SO fantastic holy fuck throwing in the towel was GORGEOUS!! and the little bit at the end where soda hugs darry and it looks like he maybe kisses him on the head a little is so darling <3

the entire “do i look like julie andrews?” scene is so fucking good… genuinely made me laugh out loud. “fine, paul newman, then!” “…no shit?” is so fantastic and johnny’s little “she is pretty as hell :)” about cherry is adorable. and ofc the “goldilocks and her ugly sister” line is fucking great

the way that johnny perks up when he hears “say hey to johnny for us :)” in soda’s letter is so cute

the church fire scene is perhaps the coolest shit i have ever seen onstage

ponyboy is crying so hard after johnny dies that has to sit down on the floor of the hospital room and soda sits behind him and just holds him <3

ponyboy is like actively crying as he narrates dally’s death its so fucking heartbreaking. i liked that they drew the parallels between the train crashes in order to make dally’s death meaningful despite its departure from the book. and the detail about the train derailing when it hit him was wonderfully written. 

there is a scene where ponyboy is like inconsolable sitting on the living room floor with his head in his arms after johnny and dally die and cherry comes by the house because she has been volunteering at the hospital and no one came to pick up johnny’s clothes after he died and she thought ponyboy should have them and she tells him there’s a letter in the pocket addressed to him and after she leaves he just sits there for a while and when he finally moves he picks up johnny’s jean jacket and fucking like hugs it and buries his face in it and it’s so so so heartbreaking and soda has to come over and start reading the letter to him before johnny appears and starts singing stay gold <3

johnny starts SR at the beginning of stay gold while pony is sitting on the car at SL but he is slowly moving closer to pony as the song goes on and right before they start singing in harmony johnny sits down next to him <3 <3 <3

josh’s stay gold made me CRY!! especially him and trevor singing “i have known a love that many never know / and that love lives on no matter where i go” holy shit. their voices blend together so beautifully

overall i fucking ADORED trevor’s ponyboy!! he embodies the role so so well and has such a fourteen-year-old boy vibe when he’s onstage that i definitely did not expect from an actor in his twenties! i’ve heard that his pony is a little more emotional than brody’s & josh’s and that was a choice i really really vibed with!! and his voice was like jaw-dropping, what a talent!!

stagedoor afterwards was so so wonderful! i made drawings for the entire cast and everyone was so so nice and seemed to really like them! the ensemble & understudies especially seemed really thrilled that i had made something for them

henry in particular was so so sweet and seemed like he couldn’t believe that i had drawn him! he was like “is this me for real?” and someone (i think it was trevor) told him to look at the back where i had written his name and a little note and he was really excited about it!! he actually was like “this is awesome i have to go inside and give this to my mom right now so i don’t lose it” and his family was right inside the stagedoor and he pointed me out to them and they were so excited! he gave me a hug too it was really nice :)

trevor was also really excited and was like “this is a drawing of me for real? not brody?” and he was so happy when he turned it around and saw his name <3

i gave melody and sarahgrace copies of the same drawing of both of them and as soon as i gave it to melody she immediately looked around to find sarahgrace and show it to her (she was still inside but it was very cute) and then she told me they were going to put it on the wall in their dressing room!!

sarahgrace was like “omg you even drew my bracelet!” and was excited when i pointed out the detail i put in for the pattern on her dress!

trevor yelled across the sidewalk to tell josh to stop talking to his (trevor’s) mom as a joke lmfao

everyone except jason & kevin c came out to stagedoor and they were all so so sweet!! got photos with most of them and they all signed my copy of the book!! overall such a fucking fantastic experience! the drawings were a lot of work but it was so nice to see the looks on the cast’s faces when they saw them!!

[calware]

Do you have any advice on how to write Dirk and Hal or know of anyone I could get tips from :0?

okay so first of all i want to say that i don't think that i'm really an 'authority' on the subject, or that anyone else really can be aside from andrew herself. but i do have some thoughts and opinions that i'm willing to share

#1 piece of advice is to reread the comic once in a while. or at least reread bits and pieces if that's too daunting or not feasible. the POV cam extension is really helpful for that because you can specifically reread just the parts where dirk is there (does not work for hal though iirc which is where the dialogue directory is the next best thing) anyway i suggest doing this because it's always better to have their canon depictions fresh in your mind so you aren't accidentally working off of purely fanon ones

i think this is more of just a writing tip in general but try to think about how much you intend to transform the character. and by that i mean how much you want to stick to canon characterization. no matter how far you go with it, your depiction should always be informed by canon, but you can go as far with it as you want as long as it's intentional. so for example, if you want to stay really close to canon characterization, go for it. but if you want to stick them in an AU, ask yourself how that will change their behavior, personalities, etc. and it you specifically want them to act differently than they do in canon, that's okay too as long as you justify it and make it believable to your reader. you don't have to be afraid of changing them as long as something happened to cause that change

i feel like these are the two biggest pitfalls people fall into, usually a combination of the two. either they just don't understand the character well enough to give a believable portrayal of them, they don't give the audience enough reason to believe their portrayal of them, or both. for example there are a lot of hal fics out there where he is evil and kills people for fun, which to me just tells me that the author didn't really get him. but the takeaway isn't that you should never make hal evil and kill people, just that you need to provide basis for the audience to believe that he would be evil and kill people while still feeling in-character for doing so. that's what i mean by intentionality, you need to understand why you make the artistic choices that you are making

i wrote down some common tropes (?) of hal writing i tend to see that are along the lines of "i see these a lot and they wouldn't be bad if the author just made them feel believable" if that's at all helpful. i can do some for dirk as well if anyone wants me to

3. avoid being reactionary. the homestuck fandom is so reactionary with its portrayal of characters, meaning that one mischaracterization will get popular, and people will complain about it and swing the complete opposite direction, leading to a different mischaracterization becoming popular. an example of this is everyone thinking dirk is the coolest ever, and then switching to think he's the lamest ever. just try to focus on your own perceptions of the characters based on what you read from the comic and what you agree with others on, don't form perceptions based on trying to break away from something else

4. this goes more for dirk than hal because hal isn't as popular, but just keep in mind that dirk isn't the main character. i think a lot of people attribute main character energy to him when they don't really have to. obviously if you write a fic about dirk, he's literally going to be the main character, or if he's your favorite character you're going to care about him more than the others. but that doesn't mean he's any more important, more special, more traumatized, more mentally ill, or what have you, than any other character. going back to the example from above, the people who treat him as both the coolest OR the saddest character are both portraying him as the Special Boy. when the reality is that they are all pretty special and he's not an exception

i hope that all made sense... if not feel free to ask and i can explain further if needed

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove: A Zombie Ghost Story (Chapter Five)

Summary: He couldn’t stop thinking about eating her, of tasting her sweet, soft flesh and hot blood. He wanted to devour her, but not in the way he usually did his meals. He would consume her slowly, sniff and lick every inch of her skin before gently biting down. He’d start with her wrists, feel her pulse point flutter under his tongue before severing the artery so it sprayed her honeyed blood into his mouth. He’d keep her alive for as long as possible, not wanting to be parted from her. Perhaps he wouldn’t even have to kill her. Maybe he could satisfy himself with just a piece of her, just his pound of flesh… Word Count: 2792 Warnings: still no smut Notes: triple asterisk (***) denotes a POV change as usual, dash asterisk dash (-*-) is a time skip but not a POV change AO3, Masterlist

Ghost and his dove left the cabin the next day, early in the morning. It took some convincing on his part, in the form of pointed groans and growls, to get Lelia to step foot outside. But they were too close to the base she came from, and the cabin had no food left. They had to keep moving, to find somewhere better.

Ghost led her to the stream he’d bathed in yesterday, and they followed it several miles south. Lelia became jumpy the second they left, but when they got to the stream, she paled dramatically and wouldn’t get within three metres of it. He found it odd, but it's not like he could have asked even if he wanted to. She didn’t complain, but he could tell how much she wanted to turn around and go back to the cabin, where there was a relatively warm bed waiting for her. He couldn’t blame her—even with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her ballet flats swapped out for a proper pair of boots they’d found in the closet, she was still shivering from the chilly autumn wind. Winter was just around the corner, and its threatening presence loomed overhead like a knife, in the cloudiness of the skies and the way her breath misted in front of her face with every puff of air.

Eventually, the stream came to an end, and Ghost collected some water in the bucket before they continued. The trees were beginning to thin out, and he hoped that meant they were nearing some sort of town. Anywhere that he could find a little more food for his dove.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. The day ended before the woods did, and they were forced to stop when Lelia nearly collapsed from exhaustion. He felt guilty when he noticed just how ragged she looked—all she’d had to eat in the last few days was a can of beans, and she’d been walking nonstop since dawn. It was difficult for him to remember just how fragile humans were, especially when he’d never been a particularly delicate man himself, even when he was alive. But his dove wasn’t a trained, battle hardened operative—she was just a normal young girl, and he needed to treat her as such.

He groaned a quiet apology as he helped her set up a fire, once again handing her the matchbook to light it. She only broke one this time, which was quite the improvement. He added it to the flames as extra tinder.

“Do you sleep?” She asked him as the water boiled. He jerked his head to the left, then the right. “That must be nice. I wish I didn’t have to. Sleeping is more terrifying than being awake, most of the time.”

He’d heard her tossing and turning last night, had smelt her salty tears as she’d whimpered and begged someone named Andrew for mercy. Mercy it had sounded like she’d never gotten. He had wanted to comfort her, but he’d been certain his presence would have just made things worse. So he’d stayed outside her door and done the only thing he could to help her. Stood guard and kept her safe.

He did the same tonight. When the exhaustion finally got the better of her, despite the valiant fight she put up, he watched over her. But this time, when the nightmares came for her, there was no door separating them and hiding the terrified expression on her tear-stained face. So he moved closer, reaching out and clumsily twirling a lock of her hair around his stiff, cold fingers. He couldn’t feel the softness, but he could imagine it. Smooth like silk. Rare and desirable and beautiful, just like her. But with a hidden strength, too.

Soon enough, his dove settled down. He’d have liked to say he had something to do with it, but he knew that was just wishful thinking. Nonetheless, it took him quite a long while to finally let go of her loose, auburn curls and get back to his feet, returning to his self appointed role of her undead protector.

-*-

It took two more days to find a town.

Lelia could barely hold herself upright by the time they did, and Ghost would have offered to carry her—except that his instincts to feed were going haywire, having been denied too long, and every waft of her unique perfume made his mouth water. He’d given up on trying to wipe away his drool. It was no use. He couldn’t stop thinking about eating her, of tasting her sweet, soft flesh and hot blood. He wanted to devour her, but not in the way he usually did his meals. He would consume her slowly, sniff and lick every inch of her skin before gently biting down. He’d start with her wrists, feel her pulse point flutter under his tongue before severing the artery so it sprayed her honeyed blood in his mouth. He’d keep her alive for as long as possible, not wanting to be parted from her. Perhaps he wouldn’t even have to kill her. Maybe he could satisfy himself with just a piece of her, just his pound of flesh…

With a ferocious growl, Ghost suppressed the rising urge once again. He hurried Lelia into the first house they saw after clearing it, then put her in a room with a lock. He mimed the locking motion, then held out his hand, telling her to stay put. He pointed to himself, and then pointed back towards the front door, and prayed she would understand.

“You’re leaving?” She asked, sounding like she was on the edge of panic, even as she laid down on the bed, unable to stand any longer. “Where are you going? Are you— are you coming back?”

Ghost groaned pitifully, banging on the door. His dove jumped, and he nodded at her questions, but then pointed at the lock again, gesturing her over. Wide-eyed, she dragged herself out of bed, and he took several steps back as she approached. She looked at him in confusion, but he just grabbed the door and slammed it closed between them. He rattled the knob until she got the hint and locked it. This time, the groan he let out was one of approval and relief.

He fled the house and Lelia’s intoxicating scent quickly after that, retreating back into the woods to hunt. He was so hungry, so overwhelmed by the virus’s instincts, that he didn’t think he could stop himself from eating a human if he came across them. He hoped desperately that he didn’t, even though they tasted far better than the animals he usually fed on.

He was drooling at the thought, again. Fresh human… not just the scraps left by other zombies, like Lelia would have been had he not intervened. He imagined finding her torn apart, soft hair matted with blood, big brown eyes full of terror, frail limbs ripped off, empty stomach clawed open. It was horrid. It was what he would do to her if he went this long without feeding again.

He vowed then and there to never, ever let that happen.

***

Lelia startled at the knock on the door, slowly standing up from where she sat on the edge of the bed and crossing over to it.

“Simon?” She asked anxiously. “Is that you?”

A familiar sounding groan answered her, and she almost threw the door open in relief before she thought better of it. What if it was another zombie? She’d be dead, and Simon would come back to find her bloody, lifeless corpse. Possibly walking around. No, better safe than sorry.

“Knock three times, pause, and then knock twice more if it’s you,” she said. A few seconds passed, and then three slow knocks—bangs, really, Simon seemed to have trouble with his fine motor skills and so knocking was beyond him—a pause, and then two more bangs. Lelia waited a few more seconds to make sure nothing else was coming, and then she opened the door, letting out a sigh of relief as Simon’s milky eyes met hers—only to recoil in horror when she saw the fresh, red blood on his gear and around his mouth. There were bits of something Lelia was scared to know the name of stuck in his teeth, and instinctively, she took a step back. Simon did as well, giving her space and ducking his head. He almost looked… hurt? Or maybe ashamed… it was difficult to tell. She wasn't even really sure what the extent of his emotions were—did he feel the same way he could when he was alive? Or was it dulled? He was clearly capable of some feelings, otherwise there would be no reason for him to follow her around, protecting her. She still didn't understand why he did. Her best guess was pity, or maybe loneliness. Whatever it was, it kept her alive, and she was grateful.

“Did you… did you kill something?” She asked after a moment, swallowing nervously. Simon didn’t move or make a sound for a long moment, before he jerked his head up and down in a nod. His broken, bloody jaw quivered, teeth clacking against one another. Drool leaked out of his mouth, and Lelia had to fight the urge to wipe it away. It always seemed to bother Simon when he drooled, and once again, she wondered at his capacity to feel things like embarrassment or self-disgust. But she pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the question she desperately didn't want to ask but knew she had to. “Was it— human?”

Simon quickly shook his head, so quick the string of bloody drool flew off his face and landed on her jacket. Simon froze, and any doubt she had that he felt things as deeply as a human did disappeared at the utterly mortified sound he let out. It was between a groan and a gurgle, and he automatically reached for her as if to wipe it off, before realizing his gloves were covered in blood, too. His hands hovered over her chest as she blinked at the new stain on her shirt, too shocked to say anything. Just as she came to her senses and was about to assure Simon that it was alright—it was gross, yes, but so was her period, and that wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle—he turned around with surprising agility for someone whose muscles were in a permanent state of rigor mortis, and fled down the stairs.

***

He’d spit on her.

He’d showed up at her door looking like a murder scene, and then he’d spit on her like the snarling, rabid animal that he was.

He had never been so horrified in his undead life. He couldn't remember if that was the case for his actual life, but he’d bet on it if Johnny were here.

“Was pretty funny, mate, ye got tae admit.”

Ghost growled at the very Scottish sounding voice in his head. Whoever this Johnny was, he was a right arse.

He went straight into the downstairs toilet, turning on the tap. No water came out, as expected. He'd still had to try.

He turned to the towels instead. They were dusty and motheaten, but that didn't bother him. He wiped his face off as best he could, and then his gear and his gloves, pulling them off and stuffing them into one of his many pockets. The end result was… not great. The blood of the deer he'd killed and eaten had already started to dry, adding another stain to his gear and leaving a rusty brown hue to his colorless skin. He tried to pick tufts of flesh and fur from in between his teeth with his blunt, blackened nails, but he somehow only made things look worse. 

“Simon?”

The sound of his dove’s soft, concerned voice floated down the hallway, and Ghost panicked, slamming the door of the toilet shut so hard it rattled on its hinges. He heard Lelia’s heartbeat jump and her footsteps pause, before starting again in his direction.

“Simon?” She repeated, knocking softly on the door. He turned away from his ghastly reflection in the dirty mirror, paralyzed. He was acting ridiculous. He was a big, strong, undead soldier. He shouldn’t be terrified of a little dove like her. And yet he was. He was so bloody afraid that she’d tell him to leave, that she couldn't stand to be near him anymore. That he’d have to go back to protecting her from the shadows, an unwanted stray dog just following her around, desperate for any scrap of affection she would show him, but denied at every turn. It sounded miserable. It was miserable, but he would do it, to keep her safe. “Simon, will you come out, please?”

Unable to deny her, Ghost slowly opened the door. She stood on the other side with a worried expression, but all he could see was the drying string of crimson saliva on her smart pink jacket. He looked away, feeling ill.

“Are you alright?”

The soft, gentle question was entirely unexpected, but it shouldn't have been. Of course his dove would worry about the rabid, blood-covered zombie that just spit on her. She was an angel. It was why he had to keep her safe, keep her alive. The world needed people like her, now more than ever.

Ghost jerked his head up and down in a nod after a moment of hesitation, and then patted his chest, right over the spot where he’d spit on hers. He let out a quiet groan of apology, unable to meet her pretty brown eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lelia said, giving him a small smile. “This outfit was ruined far before that… besides, it’s not very practical for the apocalypse. My hus— I wanted to keep myself pretty. Clinging to a bit of the old world, I suppose. But I’m not on the base anymore. And trekking through the woods for days on end in a skirt is not easy.”

Ghost noticed the slip. It had sounded like she’d been about to say husband before she’d cut herself off. His eyes flickered to her left hand, but no ring sat upon her finger. Had he misheard? And why did the idea of her being married bother him so much?

You know why.

He ignored the thought, focusing back on her words. He grunted in agreement, and made a mental note to look for some clothes that would fit her—ones that would help keep her warm in the coming months. She was far too thin—she would need multiple layers if he was going to keep her from dying of exposure in the dead of winter.

An awkward silence fell between them, and Ghost could tell his dove wanted to ask him a question. He waited her out, and just as he knew she would, she broke first.

“So you—you went out to eat?” She asked, then winced. “I mean— earlier, when you were— were acting all… frustrated. You were… hungry?”

Ghost swallowed reflexively, tasting deer meat in the back of his throat. Slowly, he nodded, trying subtly to hold his jaw in place. Lelia looked nervous again, but also determined.

“How hungry?”

Ghost looked away, ashamed. He didn’t want to think about the overwhelming desire he’d had to sink his teeth into her supple flesh, or the vivid, blood-soaked images his virus-laden mind had conjured of him doing so.

Lelia sucked in a small, sharp breath, and her voice shook slightly when she spoke again—but there was bravery in it, too. A certainty. Like she’d made up her mind and couldn’t be swayed.

“We’ll just have to make sure you stay well fed, then,” she stated simply. “Then you won’t be tempted to snack on me… right?”

Ghost didn’t know how to explain that he was always tempted to snack on her, that her scent was the most delicious thing he’d ever smelled, that he wanted to see if her blood would warm him from the inside like a good whiskey. He didn’t know how to say that despite that, he would never harm a hair on her head, not for as long as he lived. Unlived. Bloody semantics.

So instead, he just grunted in agreement. He would always be tempted, but so long as he remained satiated, he would be able to keep his instincts in check. That was what she really wanted to know.

“Good,” she replied, sounding relieved. She offered him another smile, smaller than he would’ve liked but still just as sweet. “But you’re not the only one that’s hungry. Do you think there’s any food hidden in the cabinets?”

[smittenmeraki]

This song is both Andreil coded and Jeaneil coded. Andrews POV to Neil and Neils POV to Jean. Its all i can think of everytime i hear it

"And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight

But my hand's been broken one too many times

So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude

Words, they always win, but I know I'll lose"

Andrew having lost Cass, the only person he considered family for so long. He gave so much of himself up and let himself be ruined just so he could have a mother. Not sure how love a person because life has been an endless cycle of hate and hurt.

Neil having seen everything Jean went through, wanting so desperately to protect him but he failed before he even knew him. Knowing of the ruthless, never ending suffering Jean indured alone, being his misplaved forever partner, not even knowing he abandoned him.

Both wanting to fight, willing to do and say anything for his sake. Andrew willing to go against the literal yakuza. Neil putting a hit out in Grayson. Ready to meet the ends of the earth, but its so difficult because of everything that happened in their pasts.

[emkayewrites]

Lukola fanfiction from Luke's POV- Luke and Nicola are filming the carriage scene but both of them secretly like each other - and both of them are unavailable.

(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')

5th November 2022 – London (UK)

It was a surreal experience to be on a soundstage, even though he had been on dozens of them by this point in his career.

The Bridgerton production did soundstages like nowhere else.  Everything was huge, and everything was opulent.  He stood in front of a dark blue, four-wheeled carriage.  It was elegant with an exterior adorned with intricate gold-leaf patterns and lacquered wood that contrasted sharply with its’ gleaming brass fittings.  It stood looking rather out of place in front of a giant green screen, in the middle of the chasmic space that was Soundstage 12. 

He was dressed in the finest formalwear that the Regency Period had to offer, and he was covered in what he approximated to be about twelve layers of make-up and two entire cans of hairspray. 

He usually felt a mixture of nerves and excitement before filming a scene as crucial as the one they were about to film.  Today, he was just plain nervous.

He was hardly able to take note of the other people on the soundstage.  At one far end, there were several chairs and tables surrounded by a small group of the hair and make-up team.  At another end, there were a handful of crew members working with cables, rigging and lighting fixtures.  Usually, he would be approaching them all, making small talk, trying to ease his own racing mind but he felt too unsettled to make conversation.

He knew that the way he was feeling was not just about the nature of the scene they were about to film.  It was about her.  She stood several feet away from him with Erika and John adding touches to her make-up and clothes.  She was resplendent in a shimmering baby blue gown that was cinched in a way that flattered both her waist and her ample breasts. 

Breasts he would have to touch again. 

All he wanted to do was to touch her again.

He felt nauseous.

At the same time, he knew that was the very last thing he should do.

He sensed there was something different in her since that night in his trailer too.  She appeared to keep more of a distance, the bantering dialogue they usually had was reduced to a few quips.  He could not be sure, but he felt some sort of frustration emanating from her.  As if she wanted to say something but could not.  He could also be imagining it. He did a lot of that recently.  Imagining conversations with her.  Imagining being with her.  He then got angry at himself.  Then he felt the inevitable anxiety that always came when he realised that he was having strong feelings for the woman he would now have to act like he was having strong feelings for. 

His fathers’ advice echoed in his mind: Keep the work as work, and don’t neglect your real life.  How could he do that when the real life was becoming his work, and the work was becoming his real life? 

Six burly-looking men of various ages approached the carriage.  Andrew trailed behind them, a headset wrapped around his neck and clipboard in hand.  Andrew, their director, was a slight man in his earlier forties with a refined yet approachable air about him.  He gestured for both Luke and Nicola to come towards him.

“Guys, guys… you both look incredible.” Andrew’s eyes beamed with enthusiasm. “Wow!”

In that moment, Luke felt thankful that it was Andrew who was going to be taking them through these scenes.  There was nothing like having a director that not only led you through your scenes, but also lifted you up and empowered you throughout the process. 

“Right, so the way we’ll do this is – the camera will be in the carriage with you guys, we’ll be back over here with the monitors to give that added illusion of intimacy in there.” Andrew explained, pointing to the monitor setup a few feet away.

“And these lovely men…” Andrew motioned to the guys standing by the carriage. “They will be our carriage hydraulics!  We can’t have the carriage attached to real horses for a scene like this, so this was Netflix’s next best offer.”

“Well, we’ll try not to make it too long of a shoot day for you guys.” Luke found himself saying with a nervous chuckle. 

“Right, so we’ll get you guys up into position…” Andrew nodded towards the carriage. 

Luke felt the instinct to go to Nicola, to take her by the hand and guide her up onto the carriage, but one of the carriage men beat him to it.

They stepped into the luxurious interior and seated themselves opposite one another as the script requested.  Andrew looked in through the window at them.

“So, we’ll be on the monitors and the camera will follow you from there…” He motioned to the other side of the carriage, where a camera was positioned, looking in at them through the window.

Luke watched Nicola orient herself, taking note of the cues Andrew was outlining.  He was taken aback by how intimate it all felt now that he was inside the carriage.  It was just going to be them and one camera.  

“That looking good to you, Luke?” Andrew interrupted his thoughts.  Luke was not sure he had taken everything in, but he felt compelled to nod. 

“Alright, so we’ve got this mixture of anger and hurt – but there is a tension running underneath it all.”  Andrew’s eyes lit up again. “It’s the tension of longing.  And that tension finally breaks to give us – the carriage scene!”

“Let’s do this!” Nicola high-fived Andrew, matching his excitement.

He could not ignore how she lit up when she smiled.  He thought about how it did not help that she was made up to resemble an actual Goddess on earth.

“Alright, great! On my cue, guys.” Andrew pulled the headset over his head and moved away from them.  They heard his echoing footsteps recede as the entire soundstage became eerily silent.  The lighting around them dimmed.  Suddenly, the carriage started to move in an undulating way. 

Luke’s eyes met Nicola’s and for a second, they both stifled a giggle at the ridiculousness of it all. 

They heard Andrew’s shout: “ACTION!”

Then their masks came down.

Nicola vanished, and the misty-eyed Penelope sat before him, a look of anger etched on her face.

He fixed her with a stoic look as he spoke: “You cannot marry that man. He will leave you, and he is too particular.”

He watched her watching him, her face getting angrier.

“And he is – he is just not right for you, Pen.” He continued, part-insisting, part-pleading.

She shook her head furiously at him. “He did not propose.”

He stared at her, stunned. 

“In fact, he rejected me because of you.” She practically spat the words out.  “Because the scene you caused led him to believe you have feelings for me.  An idea so preposterous, I do not know what to do besides laugh.”

There were times when she was acting that he found himself lost in what she was doing.  The way she conveyed emotions with so much power and grace.  He watched her with awe.

She continued, through gritted teeth: “Now, will you please leave me alone and let us ride home in silence?”

His heart was racing and there were tears in his eyes as he leaned forward.

“I cannot.” His tone was defiant.

“Please!” She snapped at him, near tears herself.

“I cannot!” He found himself snapping back, a hot, angry tear rolling down his cheek.  He could no longer tell if they were acting tears, or tears of real frustration. 

“Because…” He swallowed, as if mustering up his courage. “What if I did have feelings for you?”

He felt the nausea again. He wanted to remind himself that this was acting, that he should not be having such a visceral reaction to those words but at the same time, he knew it was helping his performance. 

“What?” She blinked at him, still frowning.

He moved so that he was closer to her and then knelt before her.  He was aware he was shaking.  His breath was laboured.

“I have spent so long trying to feel less, trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be.”  He reached forward for her hands, his nerves increasing as he was aware she was surely able to feel the sweat on his palms and feel how much he was shaking.  He found himself squeezing her hands tightly, as if to anchor himself.

“And for a moment, I thought I had succeeded.” He continued. “But these past few weeks have been full of confounding feelings.”

Where did Colin end and he begin?  He thought to himself.  He felt himself getting choked up.  He felt the weeks of frustration and conflicting emotions rising inside him. 

“Feelings like a total inability to stop thinking about you. About that kiss.”

She reacted to his words with a small gasp.

“Feelings like dreaming of you when I’m asleep.  And in fact, preferring sleep because that is where I might find you.  A feeling that is like torture.”

Speaking these words felt terrifying, electrifying and cathartic all at once. Another tear rolled down his cheek.

“One which I cannot… do not… and will not give up.” He spoke emphatically.

“Please. Do not say things you do not mean.” She shook her head at him, disbelieving.

“But I do mean it.  It is everything I have wanted to say to you… for weeks.”

An expression of confusion and pain appeared on her face.

“But… Colin, we are friends.”

Even though the rejection was merely playacting, it still stung.

“Yes, but we…” He spoke with hurt in his voice.  He wanted to say more but swallowed back his words and recomposed himself. He moved back to his seat. “Forgive me. I do not know what I was thinking.”

“But I’d very much like to be more than friends.” 

He stared at her with a mixture of amazement and desire.

“So much more.” She added, a look of longing in her eyes.

He moved closer to her, and for a moment, their faces met, and they took each other in, both breathing heavily.  All he wanted to do was to kiss her, but he was also terrified of what that would do to him.  Then, their mouths met in a passionate kiss.

He found his mind and body travel back… back to the inside of his trailer… back with his hands all over her.  Her mouth and body responded to his with a willingness and desire equal to his own.

He felt the stickiness of her lipstick smearing around the corners of his mouth, her hands in his hair – neither of them having any thought for their hair or make-up.

And then suddenly, he heard it as she did because they found themselves springing away from one another at the same time.

“CUUUUUUUUUUUT!”

A bright light exploded in their faces as the spotlight above them came back to life.  Andrew and Liam, the cinematographer, were stood by the window next to the camera.  Andrew surveyed their messy faces and hair with wide eyes.

“Woah, you guys were really into that.”

Luke instinctively wiped at his lips with the back of his hand as Nicola smoothed out the front of her dress.

“We’ve been yelling cut for over a minute while you did the kiss – we even timed it!” He laughed.

“Don’t say we don’t give you one hundred and ten percent.” Nicola joked.  Despite her humour, Luke sensed that she seemed unsettled.

“That’s for sure!” Andrew agreed. “Alright, let’s get hair and make-up in here and then we can get the next angle.”

Andrew and Liam moved away from the carriage.  Luke could hear the rest of the crew outside the carriage also dispersing as the normal noises of set life resumed. 

He watched Nicola as she touched gently at her own hair, assessing it for damage.

“You look beautiful.” He found himself saying out loud.

She stared him with a look he did not recognise.  She did not reply.

Quick little authors note: I watched the many interviews Nicola and Luke gave about the carriage scene, about how intense it was, and about how in one instance, they were so caught up filming that they did not hear ‘cut’ being called by the director. It inspired me to write a short story where Nicola and Luke really like each other, but don't know how the other feels, and have to hide it on set. In my mind, that was the only logical reason that this scene was so intense for them. It couldn’t possibly be that they are just such great actors ;) Anyway, that short chapter became the fanfiction I'm STILL writing about these two! So I hope you enjoyed what was actually the very first chapter of this story that I ever wrote -I built the rest of the story around it!

[ellyus]

sometimes i hate how much ppl hate aaron and sometimes i also dislike people a bit for switching up on him so fast after TKM short story

let me say, he was funny from day one and ppl did not get that, and he was very so real too (atleast w me talking)

see, (NO ANDREW HATE BTW TALKING FROM AARON'S PERSPECTIVE) you have this deal with your long lost twin that happened to kill your mother and get you sober but also take you away from any type of social life with a deal that you two will stick together until graduation.

then a little bit too normal and bit too uneasy and weird runaway kid teleports to your life, lies and lies and makes his way into your brothers heart, stealing it while your brother keeps you away from your girlfriend. all while eye fucking the- now ginger weirdo 24/7

after all, it happens to be that the weird ginger kid has connections (and not good at all) connections to the fucking mafia. and also has a prisoner butcher of a father who tried to kill him and a hitman uncle who saved him.

then your brother starts to DATE (so not dating- says andrew) the ginger lying kid and you still can't even see your girlfriend while all you want is that and graduate.

this wasn't supposed to turn out to be a short version of aftg from Aaron's perspective but the point is, i would hate Neil a bit too.

Aaron said it himself "One of these days Aaron would love to know what about that mouthy liar had people bending over backwards for him,"

He didn't and doesn't trust Neil but would i either? Probably not.

And tbh, it isn't like Neil likes Aaron either.

which leads to my second point !

The books are from Neil's perspective, we don't like Riko because Neil most definitely doesn't. We like Andrew because Neil does.

We don't like Aaron- until he gets a pov.

But always, some of us do, some of us (can't respectfully like you if you) like Riko, some of us don't like Andrew, some of us DO like Aaron.

from the start.

anyway, just a little rant.

I don't mean people can't switch opinions or anything, i'm sorry for people who only got to know so late how funny and well written character Aaron is. its also funny to me how people who came at me for liking aaron now like him

if you don't agree about liking aaron or anything, feel free to argue with me because im always willing to talk about aaron

[edwardashley]

🥁 NEW WHIPLASH FIC 🥁

Title: too much ambition, too little grace (10k)

Rating: Mature

Summary:

Fletcher whispers, almost tenderly: “You know why the pit bull is a premier fighting dog, Andrew? It’s not because it’s the strongest breed. It’s because it has such a high pain tolerance. The pit bull can have its body torn to shreds and it will still keep fighting.”

The events of the movie from Andrew's internal POV, with A LOT more sex, and a little bit of romance.

Chapter One is the slow burn obsessive pining, Chapter Two is all the smut scenes and relationship drama. I won't feel offended if you just want to skip to the spicy parts. 😊

READ ON AO3

Chapter One

Chapter Two

[odetojupiter]

okay...... can we talk this as andrew to aaron

"You are still a perfect reminder of what all these scars on my arms are for / If I can hold myself together"

"When the mouth of infinity buries its teeth in me, I'll smile through the agony for you / And I know you still bear the weight of your own existence, and you'll never bear the weight of two"

LIKE. DO YOU HEAR ME

I HEAR U LOUD AND CLEAR

aaron and andrew avoiding addressing the flaws in their relationship that they’re both aware of, refusing to have a meaningful conversation because that would drag up the history they’re trying to bury. but they’re both drowning in it because the consequence of that is a relationship that is suffocating

andrew self-destructing to keep aaron away from drake. i guess you could also consider aaron’s grief for his mother a consequence of his relationship with andrew so in that sense, he also suffered to maintain that relationship, even though of course that’s a very complicated idea as tilda was also causing him to suffer.

and they live in that suffocation just waiting for the attention of the other, both unable to talk to each other due to their history and because they are ‘choking’.

again, both of them suffering through their relationship due to their desperation to have any relationship at all with the other. ‘you’ll never bear the weight of too’ - reference to aaron’s grief for tilda maybe? and if that’s how we take that line, then it’s from andrew’s pov, so u really see how he viewed aaron’s grief for tilda as a betrayal of sorts.

obviously the songs romantic context is unavoidable here but if we forget the ‘be together’ and consider it as ‘be “real” brothers’ then… i think this lines pretty obvious in its meaning :(

[queenbeyondthewall]

Oh who am I kidding I think a lot about a lot of things because I am a massive nerd. HOWEVER two things I definitely think too much about are asoiaf and my favourite songwriter Andrew Hozier-Byrne, so what better subject for my inaugural post? The album Hozier, with all its themes of identity, toxic relationships, disillusionment, love, sex, and substance abuse, was unintentionally written for the Lannister siblings. Here's why.

Ladies first, so let me begin with our disastrous girl Cersei and the absolute banger that is Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene. This one starts off strong:

I watch the work of my kin, bold and boyful

Cersei’s one half of the famous incest ship from the famous incest series, of course, so we’re talking of her kin. Bold and boyful sounds to me how Cersei would describe Jaime in his youth - the picture of Westerosi masculinity and everything she could never be on account of her sex.

Toying somewhere between love and abuse

How better to describe Jaime and Cersei’s dynamic? Twisted, toxic, narcissistic, and yet the two definitely see their feelings for each other as love.

Freshly disowned in some frozen devotion

To me, this lyric can be generally applied to all three of the Lannister siblings and their relationship with their father. Tywin has disowned them all in some manner - Cersei for being a woman, Tyrion for being a dwarf, and Jaime for his refusal to forsake his position as a Kingsguard. Cersei, however, is the only one of the three who has not been completely disillusioned of her devotion to the man - a primary motivation throughout feast is an aspiration to live up to him and prove herself as his heir. 

With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene

The whole of the chorus couldn’t be more Cersei - Jaime’s continually calling her his “sweet sister,” she has a famously mean mind and sharp tongue, and of course that characteristically Lannister blonde hair and beauty. “Small death and the codeine scene” is Hozier-speak for sex and substance abuse, which are both things that Cersei defines herself and her relationships by. I can’t help but think of the Sansa POV Blackwater chapters, where Cersei is getting drunk and “teaching” her a horrifying lesson about the power of female sexuality.

All fetor and fertile, it’s bloody and raw but I swear it is sweet

Fetor like the rot that Cersei inherits from Tywin’s legacy and that permeates his corpse at the funeral, and fertile like the one value she has as a queen in Westeros. Her blazing rise to power after Tywin’s death is built on cruelty and avarice - it’s also what Cersei craves beyond anything else.

I’ll wander the concrete  Wonder if better now, having survived

Coming down from her blaze of glory, of course, is the horror of her walk of shame. Cersei intended to get through it on pride alone, but where we left her POV in feast was with her horrible realisation of the intense vulnerability of her exposure to the public. She survived it, however, and with the hints in the Kevan epilogue of her scheming at full force once again… damn it George we need to see winds!