#so a part of me knows that alcohol isnt good for me. and a part of me is scared of turning out like my dad someday.

[martinskiseyes]

.

[orcelito]

Genuinely thinking about giving at least some of my alcohol away. Not quite wanting to get rid of my favorite vodka flavors yet, but the other ones + the ciders in my fridge...

Just kinda don't want them lol

[angievue]

her doll ʚɞ billie eilish

in which you're billie's plaything and she promised she'd make you her girlfriend. is she honest?

contains smutt!! billie's manipulative, readers an airhead!! dumbification, degradation, fingering&oral (r recieving), tiny bit of edging? cheating, mentions of alcohol, random oc who's billies gf, billie isnt famous in this

wc 3.9k+

a/n this is my first one shot everr!! feedback is always appreciated!! please know that my grammar is ass and english is genuinely not my first language!! :D

"You know, it's a good thing you're done with that two-timer," your best friend says, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

She chuckles lightly as she runs the straightener through her hair effortlessly. "It's a relief you cut ties with Billie. You do know she was never gonna end things with Julie, right?"

Your head snaps back in shock, disbelief evident in your eyes. "No! She told me she was going to make me her girlfriend, but I just had to wait for Julie to get over her."

When Billie first came into your life, it felt like a fairy tale. She was the most captivating person on campus, while you were the sweet, naive girl everyone admired from afar. It seemed like fate had brought you together, except for the fact that she said a girlfriend.

After six months of seeing each other, you finally asked why you couldn't be hers. She gave you excuses, claiming Julie was in a dark place and needed her, but that you satisfied her in ways Julie couldn't. 

You were always a ditz. There was no denying it. You grew up with disappointed parents and weary teachers, it felt miraculous that you even made it to college. Little did you know, that very naïveté was what captivated Billie. She thrived on slipping into your mind, convincing you that she belonged there. She adored the way she could bend your perception, making you believe she alone knew what was truly good or bad for you.

But Julie was always lurking in the shadows of your twisted love. Your encounters with Billie were sworn in secrecy, whispered beneath the canopy of night. Billie never missed an opportunity to tell you how much better you were than Julie; her words both intoxicating and confusing. Yet, despite her relentless cheating, you wondered—if you were so much greater, why didn’t she just end things with Julie?

Eventually, you grew tired of being her secret and decided to end things. And of course, she didn’t take that well. She blew up your phone, relentless and pleading, until you could take no more and finally blocked her. If Billie wasn’t willing to claim you as hers, then you had no choice but to walk away. You vowed to yourself, and your friends, that you wouldn’t look back, even though every part of you longed to.

"It kills me how you're such an airhead, Y/N," she said, her voice sharp with frustration. "She never broke up with her. I saw them together not long ago, wrapped around each other like they were the only two people in the world. She lied to you, just so she could keep fucking you over. Can’t you see that? Now, for the last time, hurry up and finish your hair. We're leaving at nine, and you can’t go looking like this."

You grab the straightner, confused at her words. Before you blocked her, Billie swore to you that she'd break up with Julie and go straight to you, and if she really was going to why would she be seen a couple days ago cuddling up to her? Why would Billie lie to you?

The overpowering smell of stale alcohol and sweat fills the air as you roam the upper floors of the three-story mansion, looking for a quiet room to rest. You lost track of your friends long ago and now feel a bit dazed from the shot of tequila you’ve had.

Parties were never your scene, in fact you’d only attend them if your friends dragged you or if Billie was there. She never misses a chance to eye you hungrily, her lips curling into a teasing smile at the mere sight of you.

You remember one particular night vividly. You were at a Halloween party, wearing the shortest skirt you owned, acutely aware that Billie would likely be eyeing you. As you made your way to the bar, you suddenly turned to find Julie and Billie lips intertwined. Your breath caught in your throat, not just from the sight, but because Billie’s gaze was locked on you, piercing through you as if she were the one kissing you.

Soon after, you recall her telling you to meet her at her apartment, which you did without hesitation. She sat you down and demanded that you beg for her fingers, which you did so obediently. You pleaded and pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks as she loomed over you, a dark gleam in her eyes and a smirk playing on her lips. She’d blow smoke in your face from time to time to tease you even more, marking you as utterly pathetic for her.

A low groan escapes your lips as you shove a random door open, stepping into a dimly lit room. A perfectly made single bed dominates the space, its crisp white sheets a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in your mind. You stumble further inside, your hazy vision clouding your thoughts, when the sudden thud of the door slamming shut jolts you back to reality.

Turning slowly, your gaze finds itself upon Billie. Her raven hair falls like a dark waterfall around her striking blue eyes, an unsettling beauty that captivates yet confounds you. What was she doing here? Why was she in the same room as you?

She shuts the door behind her and bites her lip, eyeing your pitiful excuse for a skirt. Anger fills your cheeks as you remember what your best friend told you earlier. Even if you didn’t block Billie, she still would’ve lied to you—something you can hardly believe.

“Hi there, sweet thing. Care to explain why I’m blocked?” She leans in slightly, her gaze lingering on your mini skirt, a spark of curiosity mingling with a flicker of desire in her eyes

The way she looks at you drives you wild, igniting a heat that spreads through your entire body. Billie was aware of it—she knew exactly which buttons to push and how to push them. It’s what made you so favourable to her.

You huff in frustration and head towards the bed, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotions. Why was she so oblivious to your feelings? You’ve been yearning to be her girl for what feels like an eternity, carrying the weight of your longing like a heavy stone in your chest. The discovery that she never truly ended things with Julie twists in your stomach like a knife, a sickening realization that shatters the delicate hope you had clung to. 

In a swift motion, she grips your waist, halting your escape. With a flick of her wrist, she turns you to face her “What’s your issue?” The challenge hangs in the air, and she furrows an eyebrow, her palm heat against the small of your back, igniting every nerve in your body.

“I’m not talking to you and I don’t ever want to see you again!”

She barks out a laugh, eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh yeah? Is that why you’re still standing here, pretending to be so tough? Maybe you just don’t wanna leave without getting off...”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you grip the edge of the doorframe, fully aware that you could walk out at any moment. Yet, deep inside, you realize you crave her presence more than you want to admit.

“Whatever! I’m not saying a word to you,” you shoot back, though your voice wavers.

Billie tilts her head, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. She lets you go and you feel empty. She settles down on the bed, patting her lap. “Come sit on my lap, baby. Tell me why you’re so fussy.”

Her stance on the bed gives you an all too familiar feeling back to when you first met; your friends had left you to either get drinks or to get fucked, and you were on the verge of blacking out. You wandered to an unfamiliar room, taking in the scent of frat boys and wavering sex in the air. You sat down on the bed and felt your nerves tense up, until Billie sat beside you.. Billie’s presence had ignited something in you that night, a thrill mingled with fear. You had felt so small, so innocent under her gaze, and yet drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

She leaned in closer, her voice low and sultry, laced with promises that sent shivers down your spine. You remembered the way she brushed a stray hair behind your ear, the soft, lingering touch that made your heart race. She told you how she’s been eyeing you for a while, showering you with compliments about your beauty, how your dress clung to your curves, and how her girlfriend could never compare to you.

Her beautiful gaze had you held captive, and her whispers and promises made you turn into goo. She promised she’d make you hers one day if you let her touch you, which you did, prompting her to steal your virginity. She had promised you that she’d save you from all the evil in the world, calling you naive and unaware. Little did you know, she was the evil who took advantage of you and your mind.

You lock eyes with her and find yourself longing for her, and you obediently lower yourself onto her lap. She bites her lip, holding your gaze as her lips brush against your ear, “So?” she whispers softly.

“You… You told me you broke up with Julie! My friend told me she saw you two together,” you muster the courage to say, blinking away the tears threatening to spill from your doe-like eyes.

“Aww, sweet girl,” Billie coos, her fingers caressing your cheek. “You’ve misunderstood…”

“Really?” You look up at her.

“Yeah, I was just returning some things to Julie after our breakup, and she offered to treat me to ice cream. It was nothing serious, angel.”

You tilt your head, doubt creeping in. “But she said she saw you two cuddling!”

Billie blinks, and for a fleeting moment, you see her features go dark before her expression softens. She smiles, “That was just me comforting her; her cat had passed away recently.”

You nod, comprehension dawning. You internally smiling, realizing that Billie would never lie to you. She did break up with her. Right?

“I hope she’s alright,” you say, feeling a pang of sympathy.

“Mmm,” Billie murmurs, her hands exploring your body, slipping beneath your skirt, and grasping your flesh with a roughness that makes you whine.

“You make the prettiest noises baby.”

She shifts your position, leaving you sprawled with your back against the bed.  With a teasing smirk, she pulls up your skirt, mumbling about how you aren’t wearing shorts under your skirt.

She let her fingers hover over your clothed cunt, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Does.. Does this mean I can be your girlfriend, Billie?”

She didn't spare you a glance, instead focusing her gaze intently on your pussy and giving it a firm slap.  “My dumb baby thinks she can block me and cut me out? How pathetic..” She teased your entrance through your underwear, making you whimper as you squeezed your hands against her arm.

“Please, Billie..”

She licks her lips with a predatory gaze. The way your tits spill out of your dress and the way you blink up at her so innocently drives her crazy. You’re her doll, and she can mold and manipulate you at her will…

“Beg baby. Tell me you’re my doll who I can do whatever I want to with.” You hesitate, your thoughts consumed by conflicting emotions about Julie and how you really longed for Billie to be yours. Memories of having to meet up privately flood your brain, you long for publicity with her.��

She drew circles against your entrance, maintaining unwavering eye contact and challenging you to beg for her. No matter what, you couldn't help but stare into her cold, blue eyes as they taunted you.

"Please, make me your girlfriend, Billie..." You choke out, revealing your true desires.

She rolled her eyes and sucked in a breath, impatient. "I will. Now shut up and beg for it, bunny. Don't you want to feel good against my fingers?"

You blinked, your mind slow to process her words. "I… I’m your doll and... You can do whatever you want to me," you admitted, your voice soft and uncertain. You were always so needy, so desperate for her. It was pathetic, but you didn't care. All that mattered was Billie.

She chuckled softly, her hand reaching out to cup your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet her eyes. "Good girl," she praised, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Such a good, needy girl."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallowed hard, your eyes fluttering closed as you leaned into her touch. God, you were such an airhead, so easily manipulated, so eager to please. It was embarrassing, but that’s what drove Billie insane, you're her own personal doll.

Billie’s hand started to travel, her fingers trailing down your thigh, inching closer and closer to the apex of your legs. 

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a whimper, but it escaped anyway. Her touch was electric, setting every nerve ending on fire.

"Quiet, sweet girl," she whispered, her voice soothing yet commanding. "Let me take care of you."

You could feel yourself melting under her words, your body relaxing against the plush chair. Your skirt was already riding up, exposing more of your thighs, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was Billie.

Her fingers finally reached their destination, slipping between your folds with practiced ease. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily against her hand. She gave your pussy a slap, her fingers lashing against your sensitive flesh.

"Keep still," she observed, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Already dripping... What a slut you are."

The degrading words should have made you cringe, but instead, they only served to heighten your arousal. You moaned softly, your head falling back as you surrendered to the sensations she was stirring within you.

"Mmm," you moaned, your voice breaking as another wave of pleasure rolled through you. You felt like you were melting against her fingers.

Her fingers delved deeper, finding your clit and giving it a firm pinch. You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your climax. Red heats up your cheeks, embarrassed you finished quite quick, but that’s what drives her insane, she wasn’t done with you yet. She continued to stroke and toy with your sensitive nub, prolonging your orgasm until you thought you might lose your mind.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she withdrew her hand, leaving you gasping for breath and trembling. Her eyes glittered with amusement as she licked your slick off her fingers then llifted them to your lips, watching you licking them slowly and seductively.

"Mmm, she could never have a pussy as sweet as yours," she purred, her gaze locked onto yours. "Such sweet, needy pussy."

You could barely form a response, too overwhelmed by the intensity of what she'd just done to you. All you could manage was a weak whimper.

But Billie wasn't satisfied with that. She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, "tell me you’re a slut baby. A useless dumb slut all for me."

You hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to find the right words. She nudged you with her knee, a silent reminder that she wouldn't be patient forever.

"I... I'm your dumb, needy slut," you finally stammered, the words spilling out in a rush. "Your dirty little plaything."

Your words surprised you, she could mold you into whatever she wanted. Earlier in the night you were pleading to be her girlfriend and now you don’t care what you are to her.

A satisfied smile spread across her lips. "Good girl," she said, patting your cheek gently. "And now, let's see how much more you can take before you completely break."

With that, she rose, her fingers once again reaching for your skirt. This time, she yanked it up higher, revealing your drenched pussy to the world. You whimpered, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but there was nothing you could do to stop her.

"Spread your legs," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.

You obeyed without question, parting your thighs wide open for her. She knelt down in front of you, her eyes roaming over your glistening folds with obvious delight.

"Beautiful," she breathed, her fingers dipping back into your slick heat. "So fucking beautiful."

You moaned, your body arching towards her as she began to tease you once more. This time, however, she wasn't content with just fingers. No, she wanted something more…

Billie stood between your legs, her eyes dark with lust as she stared down at you. Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, revealing teeth that glinted menacingly in the faint light. She leaned closer, her breath hot against your inner thigh, and whispered, "You’re nothing but my personal little slut, aren’t you? A pathetic whore.”

Her words stung, cutting deep into your already fragile self-esteem. But there was something about the way she said them, the way her voice dripped with disdain, that made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to deny it, to scream back at her that she was wrong, but the truth was, she wasn’t. Not entirely. Deep down, you knew she was right. Knew that you were weak, that you needed someone like her to take control, to control your every action, to make you feel something other than the numbness that had settled over you.

Billie must have sensed your hesitation, because her smile grew wider, more sinister. "That’s what I thought," she purred, her fingers trailing up your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "But don’t worry, sweetie. I’m going to make sure you remember just how much of a whore you really are."

With that, she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to flick against your clit. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that shot straight to your core, making you gasp and arch your back. But Billie wasn’t done. She let out a low chuckle, her breath warm against your sensitive flesh, and then began to circle your clit with the tip of her tongue. Slowly, deliberately, she increased the pressure, her movements almost taunting in their precision.

"Do you like that?" she asked, her voice mocking as she continued to tease you. "Do you like feeling my tongue on you, making you squirm? Or is it too much for my dumb baby?”

Your mind was a tangled mess of conflicting emotions. On one hand, you hated her for the way she spoke to you, for the way she reduced you to nothing more than a plaything for her amusement. But on the other hand, her words—no, her entire presence—had a strange effect on you. They made you feel... alive. Like the emptiness inside you was finally being filled, if only by pain and humiliation.

"That’s it," Billie murmured, her tongue now flicking back and forth over your clit in quick, sharp strokes. "Beg for it. Beg me to keep going, my little baby."

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your resolve crumbling under the weight of her dominance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. All you could do was moan, your hips bucking against her tongue as the pleasure built inside you.

"Beg,” Billie demanded, her voice harsh, unyielding. "My little slut. Don’t you dare try to ever run away from me again. You belong to me."

The words tumbled out of you in a rush, your voice trembling with both shame and arousal. "Please... please don’t stop... I need you to... I love... I wanna..."

Before you could finish, Billie pulled away, leaving you panting and desperate. She looked down at you, her expression cold and calculating. "Need me to what?" she asked, her tone sharpening with impatience.

"I need you to make me forget," you blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper. "Make me forget how worthless I am..."

For a moment, Billie just stared at you, her eyes narrowing as she processed your words. Then, she let out a low, satisfied hum. "Good girl," she said, her voice softening just enough to send a thrill of excitement through you. "But just so we’re clear, you’re not allowed to come until I say so. Understand?"

You nodded quickly, your body trembling with anticipation. Billie smirked and then returned her attention to your throbbing clit, her tongue sliding back into place with a slow, deliberate pressure that left you gasping. This time, however, she didn’t tease. Instead, she dove right in, her tongue swirling around your clit in broad, sweeping circles that sent waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"Ahh... fuck... Billie..." you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as your body arched up towards hers, desperate for more.

"Shhh," Billie soothed, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she continued to lap at you. "Just relax, angel girl. Let me take care of everything. You don’t need to think anymore. Just feel."

Her words echoed in your mind, wrapping around your thoughts like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter until all you could focus on was the sensation of her tongue on your skin. The world outside the bedroom faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a battle of wills—hers to dominate, yours to submit.

And yet, as much as you hated to admit it, part of you reveled in it. In the way she made you feel, in the way she took control and forced you to confront your deepest, darkest desires. It was as if she had unlocked something inside you, something primal and raw, and now that it was free, there was no going back.

Billie must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, because she suddenly changed tactics, her tongue dipping down to flick at the entrance of your pussy before plunging inside. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and surprise that left you gasping for breath.

"Oh God... Billie...!" you cried out, your body jerking as she continued to thrust her tongue deeper, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

"Good girl," she murmured again, her voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh as she spoke. "That’s it. Just let go. Let me make you forget everything."

And with that, she sealed her lips around your clit, sucking gently as her tongue continued to work its magic. The combination was too much, too intense, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Please... please let me come..." you begged, your voice cracking with desperation.

But Billie wasn’t done yet. She pulled back, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she watched you squirm beneath her. "Not yet," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "We’re just getting started."

You whine at her words, desperate for a release. Everything was at her will, and it was clear that you truly were her doll. 

a/n sorry i got kinda lazy at the end idk!! hope you enjoyed to some extent! this is my first time actually writing smut so idk how i didd plz give some feedback :D

[moonstruckme]

hi :3

everytime i send you a request my personality’s different HAHA

okay, sooo, i was thinking (rare occasion) about your casual dominance story (LOVE btw)

so, how about that EXCEPT reader is the casually dominant one >:)

feel free to ignore this, ik this isnt like what u normally do

love ya MWA

Okay so I swear I tried to do dominant reader but it just turned into this, idk how it happened. She’s not super dominant but she’s not submissive and she definitely gets her way, so I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, suggestive content + a bit of light degradation, mdni please

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 601 words

You find the marauders in the living room. At the center of the party, as usual. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Sirius’ eyes find you instantly. He grins. Remus follows his gaze, and immediately starts talking to James about something else. “I was just thinking about you.” 

“You’re always thinking about me,” you say, bypassing the space he makes for you on the couch to sit in his lap. 

He scoffs, settling his hand on your thigh. You know he can smell your conditioner. You hope he dreams about it. “Sweetheart,” he replies, breath warm on the shell of your ear, “you’re projecting.” 

You let your head fall back on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes up on him. “That’s a five dollar word there, baby. You taking lessons from Remus?” 

Sirius makes a sound like he’s choked on a laugh. He covers it up by taking a sip of his drink. His cropped shirt lifts when he raises his cup, and you swiftly turn around on his lap, covering the slice of abdomen from view. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. He knows what you’re doing, but he hardly minds. You’re conveniently placed to feel something stiff and familiar poking at your heat through his pants. 

You grin and shift a little, delighting when his cheeks pinken. 

Black fingernails dig into your thigh in an attempt to still you. 

“Doll,” Sirius says warningly. 

You ignore him, plucking the cup from his hand and swirling it, sniffing at the liquid inside. Sirius holds your stare as you take a sip. 

“How many of these have you had?” you ask. 

“That there’s my second.” 

You hum, taking another sip. Strong, but not bad. 

“I’m gonna finish this one off,” you tell him. “I think you’re good for tonight.” 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And why’s that?” 

You lean in close, wrapping one hand around the side of his neck and murmuring against the shell of his ear, “Because it’s no fun fucking you if you’re already stupid when we start.” You back up an inch, looking into eyes now eclipsed by pupil. “Okay, honey?” 

Sirius swallows. You feel the movement of his throat under your hand and stroke the side of his jaw with your thumb. Roll your hips again, just because you can. 

He takes in a sharp breath, hands clamping down on your hips to try and keep you in place. 

“Sirius, mate,” James says from the other side of the couch, “are you alright?” His brow is creased in concern, but you can see the tensed muscles around his mouth from the effort it takes to keep from smiling. Beside him, Remus is doing a much better job at exercising his poker face. “You look like your drink’s gone down the wrong pipe or something.” 

Sirius might normally see the knowing in his friend’s look, too, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “I’m fine,” he says, voice impressively blase for someone who seems like he could cum in his pants with a couple of strategic movements on your part. “Just thinking it’s time me and my bird get out of here.” 

“What?” You make a show of leaning away from him, and the shift in your weight has Sirius gripping desperately at your hips. “Babe, it’s so early. We’ve only just got here. Let’s give it an hour at least, yeah?” 

“Really?” Sirius asks quietly, urgently. 

You take a slow sip of his drink, letting him see the way your throat bobs when you swallow. 

“Yeah,” you exhale as you finish. “Why, are you in some kind of hurry?”

[mothandpidgeon]

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 2

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), alcohol, jealousy, angst, slow burn, yearning, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 3.4k

a/n: Thank you to everyone that read part 1!! I'm so pleased that you're enjoying it so far! I really would've liked to let this part simmer a little longer but I'm holding myself to this publishing schedule. It's time to yeet this into the world. I'd love to know what you think. Your comments and reblogs give me so much joy!

Thank you @lowlights for the beta and help with witchy stuff. Thank you @moonlitbirdie @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre for listening to me bitch about this and supporting me always.

“Don’t you look nice,” Aunt Margot says. 

You’re putting the finishing touches on your make up in the Page’s office. Usually you’d go back upstairs but you don’t feel like hearing it from Ezra.  

“Thanks. I have a date,” you say, packing your mascara in your purse. 

“Oh,” she replies, not hiding her disappointment in the slightest. 

You hadn’t intended to see Connor again but when he texted you, you couldn’t think of a good reason not to. He invited you to his place to check out his vinyl collection which sounds like an insufferable version of Netflix and Chill but you have no plans to listen to a single record. You just want to fuck in his bed and avoid any drama with Ezra. 

“Well I hope you’ll put as much effort in for the equinox,” she says. She flips the sign in the door from open to closed then snaps her fingers to turn off the overhead lights. 

You and Margot host the coven for the equinox each year which already means extra preparations in addition to work at the bookshop. 

“Why would I do that?” you ask. You don’t wear make up for moon rituals, don’t wear much of anything at all. 

“Esme is bringing River,” she says with a casual shrug. 

“No” you groan. 

“He’s visiting from Ireland,” she tells you. 

The last time you saw Esme’s grandson you were both in high school. River was built like a string bean, his upper lip dusted with the saddest mustache— if you could even call it that. He reeked of some badly brewed potion that was supposed to attract lovers. You still gagged when you smelled licorice root. 

“Good for him,” you say. “Please do not set me up with River.”

“I’m not a matchmaker, dear. I’m just trying to expand your sexual horizons,” Margot replies. 

Suddenly, Connor’s vinyls don’t sound so bad after all. 

—

Ezra pads through crystals and altar bells. Everything’s been laid out on Aunt Margot’s paisley scarves— scrying bowls and athame blades and jars of rain water all waiting to be charged by the moon of the autumn equinox. 

It’s just after midnight and the witches of your coven are gathered in a small clearing far enough into the woods that stray mortals won’t stumble upon them. The air smells fresh and cold like mountain spring water. A bonfire crackles, layered with herbs and pine needles. 

The waning moon feels heavy and close like it might just fall out of the sky and nick Ezra’s ear. It makes him feel uneasy. Then again, it’s hard to enjoy these rituals when he can’t participate the way he once did. 

Ezra watches you offer mulled wine to Esme and River, steaming cups scented with cinnamon balanced on an antique silver tray. You look beautiful in your simple white dress. It glows in the moonlight and he can see your body silhouetted beneath the fabric of its long skirt by the fire. 

He’s never cared much for Esme but, then again, he doesn’t have many kind words for any of the Elders even if the ones that cursed him are long dead. Even if he deserved that curse. She wears her long hair coiled on top of her head, a jade hair pin perched in its nest the same way her familiar, a tired old owl, watches from the branch of one of the trees. 

Ezra’s attention isn’t with Esme tonight. He’s keeping a close eye on her grandson. 

“He totally sucks. Please don’t leave me alone with him,” you’d implored. 

Ezra would be wary of him whether or not you’d asked. River is nothing like how you’ve remembered him to Ezra. He must’ve done a lot of growing up since your last encounter. Tall and lean with thick waves of auburn hair. He’s the kind of witch that even Ezra would have taken to bed when he was human. 

He sees the way River looks at you, watches him turn the charm on as he smiles. River’s eyes travel down your body and Ezra knows exactly what he sees. Waves of hot jealousy consume Ezra from nose to tail. For a moment, he worries he’ll get another thousand years added on to his sentence. 

After some small talk, Esme wanders away and that's Ezra’s cue. He slinks up between you and River, rubbing up against your legs to let you know he’s ready to bail you out. 

River swallows his drink with a chuckle. 

“That tastes just how I remember it. Me and Moss used to sneak glasses of Ariadne’s mulled wine when we were thirteen,” he explains. 

“Me too. Although I’m pretty sure Margot knew,” you say with a laugh. 

“Little mage, you asked me to fetch you when the oils were ready,” Ezra says. 

“Oh,” you say, throwing a self conscious smile at River. “I’ll go in a minute, Ez.”

“Margot could use your assistance,” Ezra adds. 

“Why don’t you go help her and I’ll be there soon,” you suggest.

Ezra can’t help but glare up at River. 

“Would that I had opposable thumbs,” he responds. 

You laugh. River doesn’t. You crouch down and glide your hand down Ezra’s spine.

“It’s okay, Ez. I’m good,” you tell him and you wink at him.

His blood turns molten as you turn back to River and continue your conversation. He wants to hiss and claw at him, draw blood. It feels like you’re slipping through his fingers not that he ever held a claim. Not that he even has fingers anymore. He’s completely powerless, standing at your feet like the dumb animal he is.

Rather than watch you moony over River, Ezra turns away and slinks off to the edge of the gathering to sulk. The fire’s warmth doesn’t quite reach and he presses back his ears to stave off autumn’s chill. He can’t run off into the woods the way he’d like to, not without raising questions from the other witches, make you look like you can’t control your familiar.

He can’t stop his eyes from wandering back to you. Your head thrown back in laughter, your hand on River’s forearm. Each moment of your joy is like a knife in his heart.

Ezra’s eventually relegated to the circle where the familiars commiserate. River’s is a jet black bird named Rhea who turns her beak up at him. He’s not one of them, not really. He was human himself with a familiar of his own but that’s not the only reason why they scorn him. They all know that he’s the worst kind of witch. 

There are many reasons why a witch might be turned into a cat but there’s only one crime that was punished with 1000 years— murder. And not just any murder. Ezra desecrated the life of another witch and, no matter how loyally he serves you, he’ll always have that stain. 

The rituals are done, the chanting. The embers from the fire float up through the trees towards the fat moon. Then the dancing begins. It’s erratic and joyful, Ezra can remember the ecstasy of it in his bones. Esme lets down her white hair and one by one the witches disrobe. 

He hears your laughter as you spin, shoulders shrugging with the pulse of the magic that swirls around the bonfire. 

He knows he shouldn’t look at you like that. Not you. Not here. You’re not putting on a show, you’re doing your magic. But the way your body moves against the glow of the fire is its own enchantment. He could worship you like the moon. 

The spell is broken just as quickly. River’s right beside you, bare skin radiant, muscles rippling with his own rhythm. His fingers tangle with yours and Ezra feels acid in his throat. 

The whole night becomes an assault on his senses. The sound of chanting rises, the old words frantic and savage. Amber and patchouli mix with the woodsmoke to choke him. Grotesque shadows fall over the faces of the witches like a carnival of horrors. And then there’s you— incandescent and naked and whispering something in River’s ear that has him grinning. Ezra’s hair stands on end.

“Come dance with me!” you giggle as you leave the circle of merriment. Your teeth are stained purple, drunk on wine and magic. 

“I’m quite content here,” Ezra lies. 

“Are you having fun?” You ask but you don’t wait for his answer. “River is…wow. He did not look like that when we were kids.”

You pick Ezra up and whirl around in a circle. He smells the incense of your skin, the alcohol on your breath. 

“You’re going to get your wish. I’m finally going to fuck a proper witch!” you say. 

You toss Ezra in the air and catch him. The bile has come so far up his throat it’s an absolutely nauseating sensation. 

“Enough!” Ezra hisses. He swats at you with his claws bared. 

You yelp and drop him. Before he even hits the ground, he feels it— a searing hot pain that makes his back arch. You’re defending yourself with your powers like a reflex. He lets out a yowl and just as quickly it passes.

Ezra staggers and looks up to find you with tears in your eyes. He’s never seen you looking so hurt, betrayed. Your jaw quivers. Ezra landed on his feet but he feels upside down. He’s realizing what he’s just done, that he tried to hurt you because he’s pathetic. Jealous. 

“Ez,” you say, your voice strangled. 

Like a coward, he takes off, ignoring you as you call after him. 

—

It’s the sound of the cat flap that wakes you sometime after sunrise. You’re sprawled out on your bed, head aching, eyes swollen. You’re still wearing your white dress, you threw it on before going after Ezra but it was no use. He was as black as the shadows in the forest and had slipped away under some bushes.

You abandoned the equinox celebration and went home in hopes he’d be there. You waited. Alone with your guilt and anxiety. 

I’m sorry. Please come home. You were never very good at telepathy but you tried to reach out to him with your thoughts. 

The sound that he made echoed through your mind as you paced the floor. Strangled, terrified. You tried to stop yourself from picturing him out there in the dark shaking with pain. 

You hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was involuntary. As soon as his claw grazed your skin, your powers flared. Maybe if you hadn’t been drunk you could’ve controlled it. It happened so quickly you still can’t be sure of how strong it hit him. 

Even if it was just a momentary shock, you saw just how much damage that moment did. His hair standing on end, his tail rod straight. But what really crushed you was the look in his eye. 

Suddenly you were just as horrible as every other witch that he’d served. You’d used your powers to punish him, to harm him. Every promise you’d ever made to him had broken in that instant. 

You see Ezra’s slim form dart to your doorway. In a flash, he slips under the bed and your heart sinks into your ankles. 

“Ez,” you say, your voice ragged from the night’s festivities. 

He doesn’t answer. You press your eyes shut and swallow hard then crawl to the edge of your mattress. Your stomach lurches as you look over the edge. On top of everything else there’s a hangover churning in your gut. You guess you deserve that, too. 

“Ezra, are you ok?” you ask. Whatever words of atonement you pieced together before you cried yourself to sleep have dissolved. 

He’s in the furthest corner beneath the bed, tucked against the wall with his tail wrapped tight around his body. You think you might burst into tears again seeing him cowering away from you. 

“I hope I didn’t make you fret,” he says. 

You want to scoop him into your arms and hold him as tight as you can but it feels like you’ve lost that privilege. 

“I’m so sorry, Ez,” you say, climbing down to the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that. I'm sick over it.”

“You were well within your rights. You’re my master and I struck you,” he says. “I’m the one that should beg forgiveness.”

To hear him call you his master makes you feel even worse than before. There’s no amount of tuna belly that will make this right.

“No. It was my fault. And I promise I’ll never use my powers on you again. Ever,” you say. 

His gold eyes shift away. 

“Keep your apologies,” he says. “And I see I’ve kept you from your new paramour. Another act to add to my contrition.” 

“I don’t care about that.” If you hadn’t been so caught up in the prospect of taking River to bed, none of this would’ve happened. 

“Nonsense, little mage. You’re a witch. Be with other witches,” Ezra says.  

–

River’s in the bookshop when you arrive, standing opposite Aunt Margot. When you couldn’t convince Ezra to come out from under the bed, you decided to give him space. Maybe you could distract yourself re-alphabetizing the cookbooks. You were hoping for some quiet but you’re confronted by the very attractive witch you’d been flirting shamelessly with the night before.

You know you look a mess, your face still feels puffy. River, on the other hand, looks like the definition of a sight for sore eyes. Freshly showered and dressed in a well pressed shirt that’s rolled up to the elbows, the sun is streaming in the front window outlining his still-damp hair like he’s Prince Charming himself.

“There you are!” Margot calls. 

You smooth your hand across your top nervously as she appraises you. You threw on a more than slightly wrinkled shirt that was languishing on the floor of your bedroom, too preoccupied to put together a real outfit.

“Looks like we had too much of Ariadne’s little potion,” she says. 

“I have a tonic that’s great for that,” River says with a smile. “But coffee’s faster.” 

He hands you a steaming paper cup from the cafe down the street. He and Margot have their own perched on the counter. You take a sip and are surprised to find that it’s your regular order.

”Are you clairvoyant, too?” You ask.

River blushes. “Nah. Margot told me how you take your coffee,” he chuckles.

It's so thoughtful and you’re not feeling very deserving. You swallow down a lump in your throat.

“I wanted to go foraging around here but I really need a local,” he says. 

“That sounds fun,” you say half heartedly in an attempt to demure. You’re not really up for a good time but it feels like a real asshole move to turn River down considering he brought you coffee after you ditched him at the bonfire. Margot is beaming at the register.

“Doesn’t it?” she asks. “Why don’t I get you a basket?”

—

River carries the basket now overflowing with mushrooms and wild herbs. You’re deep in the woods, branches crunching beneath your shoes. Nature’s sounds echo around you, starlings and chipmunks, the constant whoosh of the breeze through the turning leaves. 

This path is overgrown but you know it well. You spent your childhood getting lost in these woods. They have their own magic. 

Your guilt overshadows the date. If it is a date. River seems to think it is if the way the back of his hand keeps brushing against yours is any sign. It’s hard to enjoy it especially when your mind keeps drifting off. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re only half-listening as he tells you just how mystical the vibes are at Stonehenge. 

You stop at a stream, sitting on a fallen tree that’s overgrown with moss. It’s one of your favorite spots. The water sparkles where the sunlight spills though the branches, peacefully trickling over rocks. You pick up one of the smooth stones and trace its wet surface with your thumb. 

You’ve sat in this very spot before feeling just as shitty. Heartbroken then, too, trying to figure out if you could call it a break up when you hadn’t actually been anything official. She hadn’t wanted anything complicated and you swore your feelings wouldn’t get involved. Unfortunately they had their own plans.

Ezra found you there, sulking by the stream, wondering if anyone would think you were worth breaking their own rules for. 

It struck you how quiet he was. There were no anecdotes about what the witch scene was like in 1924 or tips for mouse hunting, indoor versus outdoor. He just padded into the water and nudged a little stone towards your feet. It was just big enough to fit in your palm and it was cool against your skin as you held it there. 

“A thing of beauty,” he said and he head butted your shins affectionately. 

It was. Round from years, maybe decades under the water’s friction. A dull gray cut through the middle by a wedge of some crystalline mineral like shards of broken glass. You recall exactly what it looks like because it still sits on your night stand. Each time you see it you’re reminded of how Ezra slumped down beside you, his warm body weight like a cozy blanket, a faint purr reverberating through him. 

“You’ve got a big heart, little mage,” he said. 

You choke up at the memory, unsure if Ezra would ever think that again. You certainly wouldn’t say it about yourself today. 

“Either you’re really hungover or something’s bothering you,” River says gently. 

You laugh tearfully and he rubs a circle on your back. You try to shake your head but River doesn’t give it up, looking at you with a soft concern.

“I really fucked things up with Ezra last night,” you admit. Telling him what a cruel witch you are might be a huge turn off but the feeling of his palm through your shirt makes you feel at ease.

“Ezra?” he asks.

“My familiar,” you remind him.

“Oh.”

“He scratched me and —”

“He hurt you?” he asks, face painted with righteous indignation. 

“No. He barely got me. I totally overreacted,” you say. “I used my powers on him. It was just a reflex, you know? But…I just feel awful.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he tells you with a relieved chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

If that’s true then why do you hate yourself?

“If Rhea was out of line I’d do the same,” he goes on.

You wince at the thought.

“You’d hurt her?” you ask.

He shrugs. “I’ve never had to. She knows who’s boss.”

You’ve always considered Ezra a partner. Of course, there are plenty of witches that think of their familiars as nothing more than servants. It’s an old school way of seeing it. You hadn’t expected River to use words that remind you of the way your grandmother used to talk.

“Maybe it’s different,” you say, trying to give him the opportunity to walk it back. Ezra’s not like Rhea. Maybe you’d feel the same way River does if your familiar hadn’t once been as human as you are. Still, it doesn’t feel right.

“You’re a funny little witch,” he says with a grin.

“What does that mean?” you ask. 

“Crying over your familiar. It’s sweet.” He says it as if it’s a compliment but the condescension makes you frown in disgust.

“If you want to make it up to him, why don’t you find him a lady cat that can make him feel good,” he adds with a laugh.

“Is that what you’re into?” you ask with venom.

“What? That was a joke,” River says.

“I don’t think it’s funny. You know, just because Ezra’s a familiar, it doesn’t mean he should be treated like shit. And he’s not a cat. He’s a human,” you tell him.

“He’s a witch killer,” River spits back. “So I’m sorry if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him.”

Your stomach turns. It’s the truth. Ezra’s served as a familiar in your family for centuries, his history has never been hidden from you and he’s never shied away from it.

But his punishment has never made sense to you. A thousand years, so many lifetimes, watching his friends and family die as he toiled in servitude for witches as backwards as River. It’s cruel, that’s why the Elders changed the laws years ago. And yet Ezra’s remained a cat, a familiar, disdained. 

Suddenly, the anger you’ve been tormenting yourself with turns outwards and you think your powers could set fire to the dry leaves at your feet. It’s all so unfair. The Elders turned him and witches like River scorn him and none of them feel a lick of shame. The back of your neck heats with a protective rage.

“He’s my friend,” you choke. “And you’re a fucking asshole.”

And you leave River speechless in the middle of the woods.  

🐈‍⬛

Part 3

Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs appreciated! My inbox is always open.

[champion-of-love]

thinking about pink squad being the resident party throwers in ever after and all the shenanigans they get up to when planning

in the books, briar had the position of social throne on the student council (or something similar cant remember) so i just know that she has 100% memorized all the forms and steps on procedures on throwing events at eah.

apple wishes she has the same mastery as briar in paperwork. the girl can do budget proposals, logistical planning, role assigning, and etc in her sleep and thats not exaggerating.

(true hearts day being held in secret was an exception since grimm shot the event down as cupid suggested it. all their other events are approved by the school and grimm himself is going crazy trying to find a reason to reject their request but cant find a flaw in briar's event proposals.)

cupid is 'their guy' if they need anything. no matter how weird, how rare, how obscure, cupid knows how to get it. she just knows where to get it or knows someone who can get it for her ;)

girlie always has a delivery incoming to the point that blondie knows how to fake cupids signature so she could shoo away all the delivery birds that come to their dorm room because they need cupids signature before they could drop off their package.

hopper's their distraction guy. while he's not as charismatic in his human form, he's got a silver tongue in his frog form.

it isnt only just grimm who falls for hoppers made up play, but every teacher and professor falls for it too because he's just that good. made up plays, clubs, assemblies. he knows how to lie well enough that any school offical believe the lies coming out of his mouth.

(i know theyre teens still, but you cannot convince me that no one is drinking at any of these parties. theres no pressure to drink at all but the option's there if you wanna get loose and have a lil buzz. they're eventually going to drink alcohol in the future in balls and dances and such, so why not learn about their personal tastes and tolerance in alcohol now?)

the biggest hurdle in the pink squad's goal of getting happily ever wasted is, unfortunately, apple.

apple is a rule follower to her very essence and while she does go to the parties, she is against underage drinking. (but she's drunk on power all the time, okay jan.)

they figured out that the solution is just to always have a bowl of apple juice out in every party so that apple wouldnt know there's alcohol being served. they noticed that unless there wasnt any apple juice out, apple wouldnt try out any other drink. so with a bowl charmed to never run out of a.j., the students of ever after are free to drink as they please.

(i love the hc that ginger is also part of the pink squad, so im gonna give my hc of her in party planning as well)

ginger is their food and snacks girl. she makes the best food ever perfectly themed to the party that theyre throwing. from heart cakes on true hearts day, light finger food for the rager parties, to five course meals on their more classy events, ginger's got them covered. sometimes, she gets too conscious about what other people think of the food that she forgets to enjoy herself, but the pink squad drag her out of her funk and get her to have fun anyways

not members of the pink squad but people who sometimes help out

melody - the best dj in ever after! she uses these events sometime to test the reception to some of her upcoming songs before she releases them

daring - being blackmailed by cupid to act as a medic in case someone gets hurt. (this is also partly based on my cupid and daring friendship fic hjdjskr). he's the best in rescuing damsels, whats a drunk teen of not a damsel? (he's actually really good at giving first aid tho)

darling - security! they do have bouncers and such, but if anyones getting too rough at a party, they can get darling and a look from her gets the troublemaker running in fear or apologizing profusely

blondie - apart from committing forgery in cupid's name, she also gets the word out on her mirror blog when they have an event happening soon!

[rheanyraaaa]

Water Lilly (Part 1)

Robb Stark x Frey!Reader (F)

Enemies To lovers

Summary: Y/N Frey (reader) is the youngest daughter of Walder Frey, her mother being just another woman who died in childbirth, here she learns about her union with Robb Stark, King of the North, and she’s more then displeased of the sudden arrangement, but when she looks into his eyes for the first time. Now that’s something.

warnings: alcohol consumption, forced marriage

i fear i don’t know what i’m doing ISNT PROOFREAD also switched out from “You/your “ pronouns and “She/Her”

this was all pre written in my notes w my OC’s name and without “Y/N”/ & or You so i apologise if u do see a random girls name that’s not Y/N or You lmao (unless you’re your actual name) x

——————————————————————————

Y/N stirred awake, blotches of orange and pink sunlight spilling into the room through the curtains, she fluttered her eyelids as she made sense of her surrounds as always, this was the cold, stone room she called home. The bed was cold and stiff, much like the Twins, but the warmth of morning softened the chill in the air. She lay there for a moment, blinking up at the heavy wooden beams on the ceiling, and sighed deeply. She missed Dorne. The dusty winds and golden sands, the gardens that spilled over with sweet-scented blooms, and the warm laughter that lingered in the air, all of it was so different from the grim and graying walls of her father’s keep.

She was born in the river lands in the Twins to her mother, Lady Frey, who unfortunately passed away from childbirth, another forgotten face who lost their battle on the battlefield of the bed. As a youngling, Walder Frey sent her of to Dorne, where her mother had been born and brought up. Though, technically her mother was of Myrish descent, who just happened to be one of those descendants of immigrants who crossed the narrow sea for work. That’s how Y/N’s mothers side ended up in Dorne with no actual dorneish blood. Y/N was mixed, which was uncommon in Westeros, since Essosi’s and Westerosi’s did not mix all the well, and it was worse when Y/N’s features took favour to her mother, atleast she didn’t look as boring or unappetising as her sisters (though Roslin has always been beautiful.)

She sat up, wrapping her arms around herself as a handmaid poked her head through the door. “Good morning, my lady,” the maid greeted with a small bow. “Shall I draw your bath?”

Y/N nodded, her thoughts drifting as the maids bustled around, bringing in buckets of steaming water. The scent of lavender and rosemary filled the air, oh that was her favourite scent in the morning. Two maids helped her undress, and she sank into the tub, sighing as the warm water soothed her.

As one of the maids gently poured water over her shoulders, Irene spoke, almost to herself. “I was happier in Dorne,” she murmured, trailing her fingers through the water. “I want to go back there someday. To see my family again, to be… me again.” She looked down, smiling wistfully. “I was freer there, you know?”

One of the older maids, Meg, nodded with a sympathetic smile as she rinsed your hair. “Aye, my lady. They say Dorne has a way of bringing out the heart in people. But your father has his reasons for wanting you here.”

“He always has his reasons,” You said softly, her voice edged with resignation. She leaned back, letting the maids scrub the last traces of sleep from her limbs.

“You’re still Frey dearie. You’d never stay in Dorne for too long, though it’s built you, made you smarter.” Meg cheerily said, scrubbing and Y/N’s hair, throwing whatever ointments. Y/N hummed to this, she’s still Frey, the reason why she lingered in Dorne until her thirteenth was quite the random decision.

The other handmaiden, Nora, much younger and atleast 17 said to Y/N, “My lady, there’s talks about Lady Stark coming over here, apparently she’s looking for a bride for her son.” She spoke excitedly, washing at your arms.

“Stark? Northerner? he must be a rugged beast with no sense at all, must be another one of those brutes they breed up there.” You replied quickly, to think that a Stark would want to marry a Frey was also unbelievable, who would want to marry a big wolf?

“Your father’s picking between your sisters, then they have to be confirmed by my Lady Catelyn.” Meg continued, as you let them condition your hair and add some extra oils and essences to your bath time.

You nodded, not that you cared… well you thought it was interesting for one of them to ask for a hand in marriage, “What’s the reason for the marriage?” You asked, looking down in the soapy water.

“The crossing or something like that, they need it for the war.” Meg rattled on, scrubbing the last parts of you before preparing a towel for you.

“Of course.” You muttered, still sleepy from the terrible cold, wet night you all suffered from. “What’s the boy’s name?” You asked, less then cheery.

“Robb Stark? something like that. He’s know as the Young wolf, rides a wolf into battle, turns into one in the night. I think it’s a load of rubbish, but I do hear he’s handsome.” Nora spoke, rattling on about this Robb Stark and what good features he has and how much he resembles his Tully mother.

“Perhaps you have a chance though my lady.” Meg said calmly. As she was drying you off and wrapping yourself in a thick robe. “Lady Y/N,” she began, helping with the braid of her damp hair. “Your father could choose you, this rugged beast of a man could be your escape.”

“And leave you all behind? I doubt it.” You rolled your eyes at their failure at convincing you.

“It’s merely a suggesting. Do take it lightly.” Meg replied, trying to please you.

Y/N allowed the maids to dry her off, the steam from the bath still clinging to her skin, making the chill of the Twins feel sharper. She was dressed in a simple gown of dusky blue wool, plain but fitted, with embroidered vines of silver along the cuffs and neckline. Her hair had been braided into a crown, a few tendrils curling loose around her face, softening her expression as she wrapped herself in a fur cloak. She was ready to brave the drafts that snuck through the old stone walls.

As she made her way through the winding halls, Nora fell into step beside her. They walked slowly, their footsteps echoing off the stone, and Y/N’s voice was almost a whisper as they resumed their conversation.

“So, Lady Stark is truly searching for a wife for her son?” Y/N asked, her voice threaded with curiosity and a hint of skepticism. “Does she think it so simple to find one of us willing to move to the North? Nonetheless with this war, any one of us be part of it?”

Nora gave a soft laugh. “It seems your father thinks it’s simple enough,” she replied, glancing at Y/N. “But yes, word has it she wants a match to strengthen the ties between the North and the Riverlands. They say Robb Stark needs someone who’ll bring loyalty and strength to his cause, but also it’s an agreement for the crossing that will help him win the war”

“Loyalty and strength,” You mused, a smirk playing at your lips. “I wonder if Lady Stark knows much of the Freys.”

Nora chuckled at that, shaking her head. “Perhaps she only hears what she wishes. But you might surprise her, my lady. You’ve a spirit that could suit the North well. They say it takes a certain fire to keep warm in those freezing castles.”

You paused by an arched window, looking out over the river winding far below. The day was clear, and the wind swept in with a sharp bite, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and cold water. You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself. “I wonder if he’s anything like her, Robb Stark,” You murmured, almost to yourself. “I’ve heard Lady Stark is as proud and steadfast as the North itself.”

Perhaps,” Nora replied, leaning against the wall beside you. “But I’ve also heard he has some of his father in him. An honorable man, loyal to a fault, like Eddard Stark. A woman could do worse.”

“Could she?” You asked, turning away from the view with a sigh. “The North is distant, Nora. Cold. Unyielding. I’ve only known heat and light, gardens that stretch as far as you can see. Here, it’s all stone, and there, well, it’s ice, isn’t it?”

Nora gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could reply, a loud, impatient voice interrupted them.

“Y/N!”

They turned to see your half-brother, Merrett Frey, striding toward them, his expression bored and slightly sour. Merrett was a portly man with thin hair and a perpetually furrowed brow, looking as though everything he saw annoyed him.

“Y/N” he repeated, glancing from her to Nora, “Father wants to see you. Now.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, though you masked your annoyance quickly. “Did he say why?”

Merrett shrugged, clearly uninterested in details. “Something about a match. Said he wants you in the hall at once.”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Nora, a mix of dread and resignation in her eyes. “So it begins,” she muttered under her breath before she straightened, squaring her shoulders.

“Very well, Merrett,” she replied coolly, giving a final look out the window, as though Dorne lay somewhere beyond, waiting for her. “Lead the way.”

And with that, she followed her brother down the winding corridors, a feeling like ice settling over her heart.

The great hall of the Twins was dark and drafty as Irene entered, her cloak trailing behind her like a shadow. Walder Frey sat at the high table, hunched over with age, his piercing eyes watching her approach. He gave her a thin, sly smile, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze that made her stomach twist. Around him, a few of her siblings and half-siblings lingered, pretending to be occupied with anything other than her arrival.

She stopped before him, lifting her chin defiantly.

“Y/N,” he began without ceremony, his voice as thin and cutting as the river wind. “I’ve struck a deal with Catelyn Stark, and I’ll hear no argument. You’ll be marrying Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, and doing your duty as a Frey. Our alliance with the Starks strengthens us. You should be proud.” He then took a chug out of his red wine.

You felt your throat tighten, her voice sticking as she forced herself to speak. “Father, surely… surely there’s someone else more suited to this—“

Walder’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll be good because I say so. We’ve not been offered a match like this, not in a long time. A wolf from Winterfell, boy or not, could make you a queen if you play it right. But you’re to do as I command,” he said, his tone turning as cold as steel.

You opened your mouth to protest further, but his stare silenced you. Your voice faded, her gaze lowering. You realized then, painfully, that you had no choice.

“Yes, Father,” she murmured, her voice resigned. “As you wish.”

He grunted, satisfied. “Good girl. Go on, then. I expect you’ll be a dutiful wife.”

Days later, Y/N stood in her chamber at the Twins, a quiet stillness surrounding her as she prepared for the wedding. She thought back to Lady Catelyn’s gaze when they first met sharp and cool. Catelyn had looked her over with an assessing eye, her expression revealing nothing as she took in Y/N’s every detail, from her posture to her expression. Y/N could practically feel the weight of Catelyn’s silent judgment, her assessment of whether Y/N would be fit to stand beside her son in both marriage and war. After what seemed an eternity, Lady Stark had finally given a curt nod, deeming her acceptable.

You slipped into your wedding gown, a simple yet beautiful piece the seamstresses had hurriedly prepared. It was made of silken ivory, with long, elegant sleeves that flowed to your wrists, and a fitted bodice embroidered with delicate silver leaves. The gown was free of unnecessary adornment, simple yet striking, with a modest neckline and a trailing skirt that whispered over the stone floor behind you.

Your hair, braided the southern way, with a shimmering veil falling infront of your face and behind you, covering up the meek expression you held.

“You’re shining.” Nora spoke sadly, knowing this was probably the last time they’d see eachother. Her voice soft and filled with acceptance.

Meg, the older maid who had helped raise you, stepped forward as well, her eyes misty with emotion. “Be strong, my dear. You’re braver than you think.” She reached out and gave your hands a squeeze.

“Il miss you both,” A knot in your stomach tightened, this was really it. You bid your goodbyes before making your way down the hall outside, your father taking your arm with that wretched grin he always had on, the doors opening, the Stark flag hoisted alongside your own one, you didn’t dare look up from your feet, the chill air hitting you immediately as you were clutching at your fathers arms before he let you go and you had met with what looks to be Robb Stark.

You couldn’t really see him well with the veil and you’re sure he couldn’t see your face at all. A moment later after the septa spoke, he removed the veil over your face, and his eyes.. something in it softened, they were pools of dark blue, and you swear you felt your heart thump a little faster. He was rugged yet handsome, with the wolf emblem on him, you saw him quickly look at someone else, rather this other young lady before looking back at you, that lady having a rather solemn look on her face. You knew straight away that was his lover, and this would be even more complex then you had anticipated. You said your vows and shared a kiss, your lips much softer against his chapped ones, but perhaps you felt that warmth again. Maybe this could work, or maybe you were doomed to fail.

——————————————————————————

tags!!! (Tell me if you want to be tagged in pt2)

@samieree @maysileeewrites

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...

AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?

Hear me out:

The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.

Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.

Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.

I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.

It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.

Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:

Grandpa's.

Fuckin'.

Cheesebarn.

Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.

Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.

But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"

All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.

Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.

All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.

Then C drops off the face of the earth.

She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.

Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"

And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."

lolwut

And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".

No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???

What are these acronyms?

[eilishalways]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

all you wanna do is kiss me - pt 2

summary: a follow up to the first part 🤭

warnings: alcohol consumption & people being tipsy

a/n: I HOPE THIS ISNT BAD LMAOO

it was two nights after the grammys, and billie was fretting. you had given her your number at the end of the night, but billie was still too scared to text you. she lay in her bed, not knowing what to do. you were very nice about giving her your number - eager, almost, but billie was still too nervous? what if she said something weird? what if you didn’t want to talk to her? there were so many bad scenarios possible.

billie looked at the time. it was 5 to midnight. would you even be up? would you be asleep? were you talking to someone else? she was scared. very scared. she went downstairs and made herself some coffee, and sat at the breakfast table. she contemplated what to do. as she was scrolling through instagram, she saw you had made a new post. two images, both very risqué. the caption was just the telephone emoji. billie blushed, and took it as a sign to text you. so she did.

billie sent you a simple ‘hey’, not expecting you to reply till morning. but within five minutes you responded back with ‘who’s this?’. billie had forgotten that you had only given her your number, and you hadn’t exchanged them.

it’s billie

oh hey!! how are you?

i’m good, hbu?

the conversation continued well into the night. it was 4am when you finally said ‘look, i’ve gtg now. it’s really late.’ billie was sad but responded with ‘yeah it’s super late’. but before you went to sleep you asked her ‘would you like to come round to my house tomorrow? well, technically today.’ billie immediately typed back with ‘i’d love that’

sounds good. i’ll send you my address later. also - bring a swimsuit. we can get in my pool!

that sounds really nice! what time should i be there for?

uhhh, maybe at half 6 or 7? i’ll cook up a bit of dinner.

sounds great! see you then!

despite billie’s coolness over text, she was absolutely freaking out. dinner at your house??? getting in your pool???? she wasn’t able to sleep after that, too nervous to focus on anything else. thankfully she wasn’t doing anything that day, so she could try to figure out what to wear and should she bring anything.

fast forward to midday, billie was eating her lunch, still thinking over what she might wear? a tshirt and jeans? a dress? a jumper? the options were endless, but none seemed right. she couldn’t just ask you what to wear as well - that’d be weird. billie finished her lunch and went back up to her room to decide what to wear. as she opened her wardrobe, something caught her eye. a top she had worn from a concert she did in dublin, with marilyn monroe’s face as a pattern on it. she knew she’d wear it, but she had to find a swimsuit to wear first. she rifled through a drawer until she found a simple black one, nothing too special but nothing too drab either. she took off the pyjamas she was already wearing and stuck the swimsuit on. after that, she put on the top and paired it with some black shorts, nearly replicating the previous concert outfit.

five o’clock came quicker than billie thought, and soon after that she was on the way to your place. although you both lived in LA, you were pretty far from eachother. so billie decided to be safe rather than sorry & left early. when she got to the door, she hesitated to knock. your place was so big & modern that she was slightly intimidated by it. but after a minute of careful consideration, she knocked. you answered the door in seconds, dressed in a short dress. billie’s heart skipped a beat as you led her inside. she followed you to the kitchen, where she smelled the familiar aroma of her favourite noodle soup.

“i followed the recipe from your insta highlight,” you said, “so i hope it’s alright. i’m sure you make it better than i do.” billie thanked you for the meal as you both sat down at the table and began to eat. you talked about a lot of things… the grammys, the media, upcoming tours, etc. billie found herself falling more and more in love as the conversation went on. about 20 minutes later, billie finished her noodles at the same time you did, and again thanked you for it. you smiled and said it was no bother. “how do you fancy getting in the pool now?” you asked. “that sounds really good,” billie smiled, “i’ve got my swimsuit on under this, actually.” your smile lit up even further as you replied “i do too!”

you both got out of your clothes and hopped into the pool. “its so warm.” billie remarked. “yeah, i have heaters in it.” you said smiling. billie looked you up and down, in awe of your swimsuit that made you look like a goddess. you swam around together for a while before you left the pool, saying you’d be back in a minute. “ok, see ya in a minute.” billie replied, wondering what you were doing. billie was surprised when you came back with two wine glasses, and a bottle of a really expensive red wine. “wow,” billie said, “is this for us?” “well, who else would it be for?” you laughed. you poured the wine into the glasses, and handed billie one. she took a sip, and watched as you did the same. “it’s really good,” billie commented, “don’t think i’ve had this before.”

as the evening went on, you and billie drank more wine, and slowly got more tipsy. you smiled at billie as she told you about a song she was in the middle of recording, her face lighting up in excitement. “you’re so pretty.” you said abruptly without a warning. billie blushed. “so are you.” she responded, the alcohol making her more confident. “like- really pretty,” you went on, “super pretty.” billie didn’t know how to respond. being complimented by the woman she had a massive crush on? she was blushing like mad. “i could- i could just kiss you.” you said, a smirk on your face. billie didn’t respond as a shocked expression took over her face. you waited a few seconds before leaning in and kissing her. billie kissed back immediately, setting her glass on the side of the pool. you kissed her passionately, and she did the same. you continued like that for a while, until you were making out with eachother.

“wow.” was all billie said. “you’re a good kisser.” you remarked, a hand still on billie’s cheek. “i- i really liked that. like, really liked that.” billie confessed. “me too.” you smirked, before leaning in to kiss her again.

[pulluppuddles]

initiation

cw: manipulation, intoxication, gaslighting, omorashi, pet/puppy play,

at first, it seemed rly cool that the gorgeous sorority president on campus had invited u, a brand new freshman, to be her date to the greek life halloween party...u were anxious but oblivious as she introduced u to her sorority sisters while keeping a tight grip on ur waist, leading u around as she kept casually filling ur glass and encouraging u to drink...

it wasnt long before the alcohol caught up with ur bladder and ur brain...she was talking to the president of the frat club when it hit u...u needed to pee...now!

a small whimper escaped u as u clenched all the muscles in ur body and gradually, the urgency subsided... blushing, u try to duck out of her grip, sluring about needing the bathroom

she grips ur waist tighter and pulls u back, smirking..."excuse me, did u ask?"

u look up at her bewildered and suddenly, she pushes u against the wall, knee between ur legs, grinding against ur puppy parts

u cant help but let out a small moan as more partygoers turn to watch. she puts on a fake sympathy look and coos "aweee whats the matter pet? u know u've always had to ask before u leave my side, why would it be okay for u to disobey me now? did u think i wouldnt punish u here, in front of all of them?"

ur so drunk...so confused...is this true? u rly cant afford to think too hard about it rn as its taking everything u've got not to relieve urself and the constant rubbing of her knee on ur puppy parts isnt making it any easier

suddenly her knee is gone and u have to scramble to press ur legs together. she leads u outside where the party continues. there's a pool in the backyard and the sounds of the splashing r too much. u double over, holding ur crotch as everything in ur body screams for relief and u begin to leak.

suddenly u feel breath on ur ear and a soft growl tells u to piss urself. u want to resist but u cant help it, even as u hold urself, tendrils r snaking down ur legs. ur pissing ur pants in front of everyone. u start to cry as u continue to pee, everyone watching and smirking at u.

after what seems like forever, ur bladder is empty and she leads u back inside. everyone stares and smirks, hushed tones mentioning the sororitys new pet.

she leads u through the house to her bedroom, a metal cage with a big dog bed in it and warns u that this is ur bed and if u ruin it u wont get another.

she proceeds to strip u and clean u up, tsking at the slick in your underwear. "look how leaky u r pet" u blush as she lays u down on ur back in the cage and pulls on a pair of medical gloves

"now, be good or i will bind ur hands and feet. this is happening whether u fight it or not" u don't have a chance to wonder what that means before her hands wander down between ur legs and begin a thorough investigation of ur puppyparts

it isnt long before her soft touch has u foaming at the mouth, whining and pleading for more. she smirks and shuts the door of the cage...ur cage... "have sweet dreams pet" she purrs as she closes the door and returns to the party

[weebsinstash]

Now don't get me wrong, I like how... calm and unbothered Alastor is, or at least tries to pass himself off as being

but like.... we know he's a drinker.... and we know certain details about him having an alcoholic abusive father who was cruel to his mother which heavily influenced his whole Dexter serial killer morality bs... and I can't help but think of a fic idea where Reader and Alastor are together and, suddenly without warning you break up with him BECAUSE YOU CHEATED ON HIM. you're like, legitimately heartbroken and missing him but you broke up for a good reason and, time passes and you dont see or hear from him, you're basically just going on with your life, and, MEANWHILE HE'S JUST SLOWLY DEVOLVING IN A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOW MEOW

His radio show comes on and he's SLURRING and people are aghast. Alastor is usually such a classy gentleman, so careful with his image??? Meanwhile he's in his radio station with several glasses of whiskey and staring at a wall lined with your photos while he's broadcasting, "ohhhh hEeeEy LiSteNers!! How-how are you all doing this.... 😡LOVELY😤 evening. Isnt..... isn't it... so nice to... spend time with loved ones when you need them? 🥴 WELL I WOULDNT KNOW HA HAH HA" *cue 30 straight uninterrupted seconds of unhinged laughing from a man clearly having an emotional crisis* "so on tonightsssshow I was-i wasszzz hoping to-to discussss-"

Like imagine tuning into his show after avoiding it because it broke your heart and it turns from him like, having an actual topic and planned structure of his show, to then, one day you overhear a broadcast and he's just occasionally slurring, saying really really vague shit about how "real men are supposed to be strong enough to protect and hold onto those they hold dear" and you can occasionally hear the THUNK of his whiskey glass hitting the table meaning he's already drunk but still drinking WHILE broadcasting and, oh honey you already sound so wasted you don't need more--

You guys don't understand. I want this man having a very PUBLIC very MESSY mental breakdown because he was CRAZY IN LOVE WITH YOU and you sat him down and told him you love him deeply but you need sex and you've cheated on him REPEATEDLY and EVEN THEN he was HARDCORE COPING, "w well as long as you promise it won't happen again-" "I cant and i won't. I love you but i cant repress this part of myself" LIKE YOU DECIMATE THIS MAN. Alastor's just beside himself because like, not without valid feelings but you're basically dumping him to fuck strangers. Like. I just. What if he literally had a ring box or was starting to realize he's demisexual on the ace spectrum and was starting to have Those Feelings for you and you're just. Breaking up with him, and all he hears is "sorry but having these disgusting men I don't even know hunch over on me grunting like disgusting animals and defiling me who is definitely way too good for them is way better than being with you my respectful funny classy charming totally-not-husband"

I want you to be walking down the streets of Hell and Vox suddenly comes on their equivalent of a jumbotron and he's visibly beside himself with excitement, "BREAKING NEWS, THE RADIO DEMON IS PISS DRUNK IN THE GUTTER LIKE A FUCKING LOSER, MORE NEWS ON THE SCENE" and it just snap cuts to him facedown in the street somewhere. Have you ever seen Intervention. You can have grown ass adults with successful careers and loving communities and when they find something that breaks them you'll be seeing shit like, children finding their mothers literally passed out in the yard because they were too drunk to get into the house or even WALK properly. So. You just. See him in this legitimately pathetic absolutely humiliating state and you can't help but feel that that's YOUR fault, meanwhile Vox is living his best fucking life, GOD FORBID VOX SEES YOU STANDING THERE CRYING ON THE SIDEWALK, he's then broadcasting your crying face all over Hell, "Hey Alastor even your EX is CRYING AT HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE, GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY LEFT YOU HUH" and like. The live feed of Alastor shows him just, struggling to even lift his head to look up to, wherever, and see your image there, looking absolutely devastated, looking at him with pity and heartbreak. oh, his sweet beloved, looking so distressed because you see him so weak...

Vox is just living it up mocking both of you but he's made several enormous mistakes by putting you on the air, especially looking like THAT, especially with Alastor in this mental state, and ESPECIALLY to mock you when you're already looking so broken. The feed cuts. All the TVs read "LOST SIGNAL" and nothing comes back on the news for the rest of the night. Less than a week later, the radios are on again, and Alastor sounds... completely back to normal? Chipper, even? And at first you're happy to hear he's all good and well, but, there's something about some of the things he's saying that are making you a little.... nervous?

"You know folks, it took me an EMBARRASSINGLY long while to realize that, a true traditional man puts the needs of others above himself, and especially the needs of his special somebody! One can't truly care for one's loved one properly if you're too boggled down with, FEELING SORRY for yourself right? How else are you going to... defend what's yours if you just lie down and take it?"

"So while I was off the air, good listeners, I was doing quite a bit of, spring cleaning, let's call it! Yes, I was... unfortunately very busy, having to wrangle up quite a few.... disgusting, insignificant, dirty, thieving PERVERTS!!!! ....but now that that's all good and done with, I'd certainly like to think these streets are a little more... respectable!"

"To end the broadcast tonight, a final word to all my fellow men out there. If you happen to discover that, for whatever reason, your beloved has run off with another? It was because you deserved it for being WEAK. You allowed another man to just, COME IN and... DESECRATE what is precious to you? Disgraceful. Pathetic. Ill-mannered. You cannot call yourself a worthy partner if you simply allow your beloved to waltz themselves into the mouth of danger, can you? So, a little piece of advice from your humble host here tonight: Take back what is yours. Take them back, do not let them go, and do not let anyone EVER soil your love ever again. ........Also hey! Don't forget that the annual Cannibal District Cook-Out is this coming weekend so be sure to--"

[milkman-zahhak]

Shane's overindulgence at the desert festival

(WARNING. KINK CONTENT AHEAD. READ TAGS FOR SPECIFICS. PLEASE JUST IGNORE IF THIS ISNT YOUR THING)

A quick, messy drawing. It took me all day (lightning fast speeds compared to my usual..) but whatever, it's for me and I like it enough. I decided not to stress myself out about the parts I couldn't draw, like the one hand or the feet. Lol.

I also wrote a short shitty fanfic to go along with it. Maybe help the immersion. Idk. Fanfic below the cut. Sorry for the abrupt ending, I don't wanna make it too long.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆

As the warm wind blew across the desert horizon, Shane stood proudly amidst the bustling crowd of his fellow villagers at the Desert Festival. His eyes sparkled with delight and determination as he made a beeline for the concessions stands. He turned to the farmer, his husband, and let him know about his plan before his lover inevitably wandered off to go explore those freaky skull caves until midnight, as usual. "Heh, remind me to brush my teeth tonight..." Shane chuckled to himself, "...there's 12 unique soda flavors, and I'm on track to try them all." He bought his drinks and sat at the table right next to the food stand. He took a deep breath and raised the first bottlr to his lips, savoring the sweet, fizzy sensation as the liquid danced across his tongue. It tasted pretty damn good. Truthfully, Shane didn't really have that great of a concept for the amount of food/drink intake that can be considered a "sample", after all, he's not some pompous fancy jerk who samples things on the regular. And soda isn't nearly as bad as alcohol, so if anything, indulging in stuff like this was beneficial to his recovery! (<- what he tells himself) With enthusiasm radiating from his every pore, Shane approached the colorful soda stack in front of him on the table with excitement, each bottle promising a new taste adventure. He eyed the rainbow array of liquids, the anticipation making his mouth water. One by one, he carefully selected each flavor, evaluating the flavors, making sure he gave every drink an equal and fair judgement by making sure to taste the whole thing.

As the day wore on, Shane's sips became slower, more deliberate, as he spent his day at the desert festival in a quiet corner chugging soda instead of participating in the main activities. The small crowd around the food vendors seemed to fade away as the hours passed, everyone either competing in the various challenges and games, or heading home. The annoying chatter of people was replaced by a symphony of fizzes and gulps as he swallowed. About halfway through the soda selection, Shane was starting to feel the effects stack up. Each flavor was unique and tantalizing, from the tangy zest of lemon to the exotic allure of starfruit– some flavors were of foods, which he didnt even know how they managed to make into sodas, but they tasted interesting enough that he didn't really care to dwell on it. The first signs of discomfort (or discomfort that interupted his activities, at least) appeared after the seventh sample, a faint rumbling in his stomach accompanied by a bloated feeling. Shane chuckled nervously, rubbing his distended belly as he continued on his quest. The laughter petered out into silence as he realized just how full he was getting. Years of near-deadly alcoholism had cursed him with a bit of a beer gut, but nothing unusual by any means. Shane's physique was far from his highschool gridball days, his flesh now squishy to the touch, but he was healthy enough, he thought. What is unusual right now is that his usually soft belly is starting to feel kinda.. firm. And more-than-kinda loud.

By the ninth flavor, his once doughy abdomen had inflated like a balloon, straining against his shirt. Bubbles of gas formed from all the carbonation, and started to escape from the confines of his stomach, causing him to emit small, embarrassed burps. Despite the discomfort, Shane remained resolute, determined to taste all twelve flavors. His hand moved mechanically to cover his mouth when he felt the signs of an oncoming burp, muffling the sounds as best he could. The few people around him cast curious glances, but he paid them no mind, his focus entirely on the task at hand. He could already feel the pressure building, the gas fighting for release. "*urp... uurp.. * Oh boy..." he mumbled, eying the last few samples with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Reassuring himself that this is childs-play, it's fucking soda for crying out loud, he's gotta drink something. And this is like the tamest kind of drink besides plain water, right? Shane reached for the tenth flavor - a bright blue concoction that promised a taste of ancient fruit. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of fizziness. As the cool liquid hit his tongue, his stomach rebelled, sending ripples of gas upwards. "*uuurgh*" Shane groaned, his hand flying to his mouth to suppress a much larger belch. *urp.. bhu-uORP* "oof, nnf.." he grunted, before being interupted by a deep, wet, belch.

*bluuuu-UUuurppp* Eyes watering, he forced himself to swallow, the pressure inside him growing exponentially. His cheeks puffed out as he held in a second belch, and he could feel the soda sloshing around in his overfilled stomach. His fellow townsfolk werent anywhere nearby, thankfully. The few people left seemed to all be across the street on the other side, chatting idly amongst themselves. Either due to the late hour or perhaps the sketchyness of street food. He didn't care; he was so close to achieving his goal.

The final two flavors were a blur of sweetness and bubbles. He barely even noticed the flavor anymore. As he brought the bottle to his lips one last time, Shane's stomach lurched violently. He swallowed hard, the sensation of his belly straining against his shorts waa almost unbearable. "*burp* There... *huff* ...we...go..." He managed to choke out between sips, each swallow more difficult than the last. Finally, with a triumphant cry, he downed the final drops and tossed the empty bottle aside and away from his hands, as they instead flew to his stomach, massaging the taut surface as it churned and gurgled. "*uuorlp* Ugh..." He groaned, feeling the full weight of his accomplishment settling heavily in his gut. His stomach was a swollen, gassy mess, but the thrill of victory surged through him, pushing aside the discomfort - at least for a moment. Then, as the reality of his situation set in, Shane couldn't help but wijce with every deep breath. "*hurp* Well, I did it... I sampled every flavor... ugh... All 12! But my poor stomach..." Another burp escaped him, preceeded by a sickly churning in his stomach. He winced at every deep breath he took, rubbing his distended belly tenderly. He couldn't even help it as air was forced up his throat with nowhere else to go inside of his straining stomach. Shane swallowed reflexively after this burp, as if he was afraid of how it would end. It tasted like a sour amalgamation of all the sodas he's drank that day. He grimaced and clutched a handful of fabric from the less-tight parts of his shirt before loosening his grip and resuming the gentle rubbing of his taut belly. "M-my poor stomach... isn't letting me forget the taste of any of them... "*hic-ouurlp* ugh... bleck"

Every shift in movement would cause an audible slosh, The (literal) weight of his soda taste testing was hitting him full force. Anxiety crept into his mind as he realized he has to go home at some point. He has to stand up, get out of this chair, and get on the bus back to stardew valley, and somehow waddle back to the farm. It was getting late. Almost 9pm, and here he is, focusing on his breathing so that he doesn't spew a rainbow waterfall. He takes off his jacket, one he regrets wearing to the desert, leans back and groans. This is going to be a long, long night.

[miya-rin]

"i can't believe you got in a fight.”

“he hit me first, you just expect me to stand there and take that?"

a small chuckle leaves his mouth at your choice of words, standing between you parted legs osamu has been patching you up after a ‘small mishap’ with one of your classmates.

"obviously not, its just…" his voice trails off as he rummages around in the first aid kit until he finds an alcohol wipe, gently tearing it open before swiping it across your cheek, you wince in discomfort and he gives you an apologetic look. "sorry — its just, you're not really the type to hit someone, like i know you can defend yourself but cmon, you knocked him out."

"deserved."

"you really are something else." he laughs as he starts to dig around to find something else to slather over your face.

"thankyou."

"not a compliment."

“i'm gonna take it as one."

"i knew you would."

"yeah yeah whatever, you would have done the same.”

“oh yeah totally.” he picks up a tube of antibacterial cream and gently starts to apply it to the cut on your cheek, making sure to be extra careful as to not put too much.

“thankyou by the way.” he tilts his head up to look you in the eye for a split second before focusing back on the cream in his hand.

"hm?"

"for cleaning me up and that, thankyou."

"yeah well you probably wouldn't have, the blood would just be dried up all over your hands and face.”

"oh shut up," you let out a light laugh and by god you sound amazing "i'm not that bad."

"sure, whatever you say.”

the room elopes in silence — comfortable silence, the kind where you're not too worried if someone speaks or not, and yet you do.

"say, how long have you been dying your hair?"

"oh, i'm not sure, wh-" his words are cut short as he feels your hands snake up his undercut and into the dyed strands atop his head. shit he thinks, he so badly wants to look up at you, but he knows that if he does he won't be able to look away.

"it's really soft, what conditioner do you use? it must be good for it to not be completely dead."

"yeah." he stutters slightly, but just enough that you might not have been able to hear it. god he hopes you didn't hear it.

he still doesn't answer your question, staying quiet for a good minute or so before you decide to take action. gently tugging at his hair, an indication for him to look at you, he puts down whatever he was fiddling with and his eyes meet yours. they're a lot wider than normal, he almost looks scared, but from the dusting of pink spread across his cheeks you can tell it's something different. hes nervous.

“osamu, did you hear me?” the way you’re lightly scratching at his scalp turns him to putty in your hands. “i asked you a question.”

“uhm..i started dying it when i was like 13? so about 5 years now. and whatever conditioner my ma brings home.” you hum in approval as you continue to mess around with his hair.

“you know…i should probably finish bandaging you up.” he makes a start at grabbing some plasters to put over your bruised and bloody knuckles, avoiding eye contact even harder than before.

“wow, you wanna get rid of me that quickly? youre cold osamu.”

thats gets him to look at you.

“i never said that.”

“dont act dumb now, i heard you loud and clear.”

“youre putting words in my mouth.”

“oh so you’re accusing me now? this isnt the osamu i know and love.” as soon as that last word falls from your lips osamu burns a crimson red from his face to his neck and probably lower, choking on his spit and trying to catch his breath. if only you had your phone on you.

“you what?” he can finally speak by the looks of it.

“i love you. dont act like you didnt know.”

“yn, tell me youre joking.”

“are you rejecting me right now? thats a mean way to do it dont you think?”

“are you kidding me? ive had a crush on you since we were 15.”

“i know, why dont you do something about it?” you say with a sly smirk. he still looks on edge at the whole interaction, but theres no time like the present.

he lifts up his large and calloused hands to grab both sides of your face before bringing you into a sweet but passionate kiss, it doesnt last long as you are both conscious of the fact that anyone could walk into the schools medical room, but it is just enough to leave you both satisfied after years of pining. pulling away you are met with that boyish smile you fell in love with all those years ago.

“now that i think about it, im kinda glad you got into that fight…”

“so am i.”

[crimeronan]

OH. thought: while hes knocked out, THATS when luz comes back. because it would be horrifying for both of them.

luz rushes to the owl house right after killing belos and she walks in and hunter cant be roused and she FREAKS OUT. eda barely manages to calm her down with "hooty gave him sleeping nettles." and luz responds ".. AFTER THAT MUCH ALCOHOL?? IS THAT SAFE??" and eda is suddenly Disliking the fact that dead people can watch her commit crimes, Apparently.

meanwhile hunter is pleading with dream luz to stay with him, and then he just hears, in luzs voice, "hunter, hunter you need to wake up.. its ok.. i'm right here with you" and he knows it isnt dream luz. and he is so devastated because he knows she wont be there, but theres another part of him thats so heartbroken and desperate hes going to listen to her immediately. even if its not her.

and then, begrudgingly he wakes up. for a split second hes in so much pain cause hes still in the cabin so shes still dead, but.. luz is holding him and covered in belos goop and blood and looking like that and shes all "omg hi hunter!! :3 💓💓💓💞💞💖💖❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷"

i think hunter immediately deserves to burst into the most tears ever over this. just spend an hour, at least, crying uncontrollably while luz tries to console him. and they also deserve AT LEAST 48 hours in a luz protective light bubble where no one can bother them ever.

god, i just wrote a fic where hunter has a godawful dream and wakes up alone, but 1) this is the alternate good ending instead and 2) if it goes down like it does in the fic, i STILL want luz to come back shortly after hunter wakes up. because by that point he's gone from being in pain to being angry & luz shows up in titan form covered in gore like "hi <3" and hunter is like oh i'm still sleeping nettles dreaming. fine. Fine. what terrible things does my subconscious have to say to me this time

and luz just grabs him and holds him and is like "i'm sorry, i'm sorry i couldn't come sooner, i love you, it's okay" and hunter is like. this is the worst thing you could do to me. but okay. okay i can pretend

he starts to realize it's real within an hour but he's scared to acknowledge that, because if he's Wrong, then believing it's real is the fastest way to make the bubble pop. but eventually he comes around. probably after amity yells at him again.

and then yeah. absolutely he's just going to spend some time crying uncontrollably and refusing to let go of her. and then spend 48 hours in a light bubble where no one can bother them ever

amity feels incredibly fucking weird about witnessing all this and is like "umm okay i don't think i should see you this vulnerable so i can.... go...."

while luz is like "wait. amity blight. you have my allegiance 5eva. can i die for you too."

[halffootguildofficial]

Good evening... chil... uh—

*he pauses. aware that he is missing some parts of his acquaintance's name. But he did not hold the desire to remember it at that time, unfortunate how that predicament came to bite him in the end, he thought. Perhaps if he tried harder it wouldn't to struggle like this. But alas, what has been said is done. And he has no one else to blame but himself at his incompetence.

Despite that though — he cant help but feel a little bad about it*

Hrm ...i came to ask if you had any alcohol that i can purchase from you...

Of course — i will pay . (double, so i please, its customary for me to do that) .

I... apologize if its a strange favor, considering i could simply go to a winery. But i would rather take advice from someone i am acquainted with than a stranger.

....

*he hears no response. Strange. The tavern says its open outside, and he knows it too — considering he goes here around the same time of the week, in a way it has became a part of his routine. So this is very peculiar for him*

Hello?

*Again, no response. He sighs. Randomly relieved, perhaps due to the fact that no one were to bare witness to his — quite frankly — embarrassing situation with the half foot's name*

Uhm—

.

— @ask-mithrun

(No clue why i went on a tangent on mith not remembering his name. But oh well. Hey also isnt half foot first names only for people intimate. That's funny. Completely unintentional.) Also mithbun wasbugging me during writing this. He rlly hates you guys.........

The tavern is, for the most part, empty. It's sole occupant is a half-foot who pops up from being crouched behind the bar, presumably having been rummaging among crates.

The half-foot looks him up and down a few times, clearly judging him. "You must be a little more than acquaintances, calling him that," he says, his expression tipping from confusion into smug amusement, "He's come down with some kind of sickness, I'm afraid. You'll have to come back later. I can leave a message for you, but whatever you're wanting to order will have to wait until he's feeling better. Delivery isn't in my contract."

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist-Chapter 15: Stand by me (90s Noel Gallagher X reader)

Pairing: 90s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: Sad, very sad. Angst, fluff, mentions of pregnancy loss, and death of a loved one, smut (unprotected P in V)

Words: 5211 (I got carried away this time XD)

Summary: After their son's death, Y/N and Noel's couple isn't doing fine. It's tearing them apart, there's only one way to heal.

A/N: Heya Y'all ! Here's chapter 15, I hope you'll like it, as per usual. As I said, it's another important chapter, dealing with pregnancy loss or miscarriage. This is a topic that sometimes isnt taken seriously, or people are told they're exaggerating. It's something that we must talk about. I promise the next chapters will be happier ones ! We're almost at the end of this fanfic (I'd say 4 or 5 chapters left), so soon, I'll finally work on the requests.

Next part this weekend !

Love y'all, take care of yourselves !

Enjoy !

“Made a meal and threw it up on Sunday I've got a lot of things to learn Said I would and I'll be leaving one day Before my heart starts to burn

So what's the matter with you? Sing me something new Don't you know the cold and wind and rain don't know They only seem to come and go away Times are hard when things have got no meaning I've found a key upon the floor Maybe you and I will not believe in The things we find behind the door So what's the matter with you? Sing me something new Don't you know the cold and wind and rain don't know They only seem to come and go away Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows Yeah, nobody knows, the way it's gonna be”

January 1997- London:

I was depressed. So was Noel.

None of us knew how to act with the other. We were barely talking to each other. Andrew’s death shook us.

We moved in the house that would become “Supernova Heights”. And we didn’t have a minute alone for us on the evenings because it quickly became an open nightclub.

Noel wasn’t touching me at all when we were alone, but was all touchy when others were around, and I hated this.

I felt so alone, I didn’t have anyone to talk to.

So I started drowning my sorrow in alcohol, which wasn’t helpful because I ended up crying, then throwing up, and Noel was yelling at me because I was shaming him.

And a night, I lost it.

I became friends with Kate Moss not so long before, during Knebworth, and I was so fucking wasted I wasn’t good to be around.

So, how are you doing sweet Y/N? She asked

Trying to feel good as you can see. I answered, drinking my vodka

Trying? You should feel good with the house you have.

I don’t know if I have to remind you but I’m grieving my son.

Oh I see. But he wasn’t born yet so…

I was shocked.

I was almost 7 months pregnant Kate. It already was a human being.

Y/N, stop talking about this and have fun. Noel said, smiling but squeezing my leg, indicating me I should shut up

I’m sorry for your loss Y/N, truly. But you should try to get through it… She added

And oh, she shouldn’t have.

Listen to me Kate, I really like you okay? you’re a good friend, but you’ll make this kind of comment the day you’ll be pregnant and when your baby will come out fine, because he won’t have been strangled by his own umbilical cord okay? You didn’t lose a baby; you don’t know what it is and how it feels like! I shouted at her, standing up, on the verge of tears

Wait Y/N, it’s not how you should…

Fuck you. In fact, fuck all of you, I’m out of here. I said, leaving the living room

I went to the only room no one had the right to go to, not even me. Noel’s studio. I found Noel’s whiskey bottle and started drinking. I sat on the couch, fixing the ceiling, crying.

A few minutes after, when he saw I wasn’t coming back and after he searched me in the whole house, Noel entered, I heard him closing the door.

Are ye done? He said, coming in front of me, his arms crossed

Done for what?

Moaning like a mardy…

Don’t. seriously, don’t. I interrupted him, chuckling sarcastically

Ye owe fucking apologies to Kate.

I don’t owe owt to anyone! You fucking turned our house into a fucking nightclub without even asking me If I agreed to this, If I wasn’t too depressed or too tired for this because you don’t care and all this because you just don’t want to be alone with me!

Oh stop yer fucking nonsense!

I was sobbing, my heart was in pieces.

My fucking nonsense? You barely talk to me, you don’t touch me, you don’t make love with me, you don’t kiss me except when there’s other people around! Didn’t you think that maybe I needed some time alone with you after what happened? That we need to talk about it? To what fucking happened to our son, our Andy? That I suffer and need your support? No, you just let people come around and decide for me when to talk or when to shut up!

Others don’t need to know about this! Ye think I’m not suffering?

Well if you do, you hide it very well!

I’m just not showing it because it’s not people’s concern!

No it’s ours, but you’re acting like…

Like what? Fucking say it!

Like he never happened! I yelled

A little silence settled in.

In a way he didn’t.

For fuck’s sake Noel, do you even hear yourself?! I said, breaking down even more

We’ll try again!

You think that’s what I want to hear right now?! I don’t even know if I want to try again, especially with a man who doesn’t seem to care about his son or isn’t even grieving him.

Don’t ye dare saying that!

Please, just go back to your people. I need to be alone. I need to think.

About what?

Our future.

I just… need to think.

He sighed and left the room, slamming the door.

Is this alcoholic woman was who I wanted to become? Is this grieving and depressed woman was who I was supposed to be?

No, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t like me. I couldn’t and wouldn’t be.

After drinking the whole bottle and throwing up, I fell asleep like a little shit on the sofa in Noel’s studio.

*

The next morning, the smell of tea and someone caressing my face woke me up.

Mornin’ love. Noel said as I opened my eyes

Mornin’. I answered, shitfaced

I made ye a cuppa. He answered, handing it to me

Thanks.

I took it and drank. I was dehydrated. Noel cleared his throat.

So hum… did ye think well?

I looked at him with a jaded look.

Yeah I did. But you know, you can do better to try to have a chat with me.

Yea, ye’re right, soz. It’s just that… I don’t know how to act after being such a jerk last night.

Well I understood that. And to give you a proper answer, yes, I thought a lot.

And ye’re going to break up with me and leave, don’t ye? He said, lowering his head, so I wouldn’t see his eyes fill up with tears

I grabbed his face in my hands.

No Noel, I’m not planning to. But… I think we both need some space for a few. You have an album to finish, and we both need to get better. To heal. I’m going to leave for a few. I’ll be at Liam and Patsy’s. She has a kid so I think she might understand what I’m going through, and she’ll have good advice and methods to get better. By your side you also need to work on this. I know Andy’s death shook you too and that you’re suffering but you’re trying to make it all disappear with parties and drugs and alcohol.

Yea, ye’re right. He said, tears running down his face

I kissed him.

I think it might be the solution for us. We tried to face the situation, but it was too painful for us. It’ll save us, for a better future.

Noel sighed.

How long? He asked

I don’t know. The time we need to heal.

I can’t live without ye, and I need ye to heal Y/N.

I can’t live without you neither, that’s why I’m doing this. Or it will tear us apart. I’m not letting you go again.

Neither do I. Never.

I prepared a suitcase with the stuff I needed and left, kissing Noel’s cheek.

Don’t forget that I love you. I said before leaving

I won’t. And I hope you won’t too.

I gave him a weak smile, closed the door and walked to the nearest tube station.

*

When I rang at Liam’s door, a little boy opened the door.

Hello! He said, smiling

Oh hey there, you must be James! Is your mam here?

Yes, but who are you? He asked

I’m Y/N, I’m a friend.

Mommy! Y/N’s here! He shouted

Y/N? She answered, surprised

She came out of the kitchen, flour all over her clothes, and a bit on her cheek.

Heya! I said, embarrassed

Hey, what are you doing here?

I…um…

She saw my suitcase.

Come in, we’ll have a chat. I’m preparing a cake if you want to join. It’s good therapy.

She took my suitcase, putting it in the living room, and put cartoons for James to watch while we both went to the kitchen.

You did a good job with your son. He’s so cute, polite and careful.

Yes I know. Well his father also did a great job.

He’s Jim Kerr’ son, right?

Yup. She answered, insisting on the letter P

Well you raised him well.

Thank you.

A silence settled in. Patsy saw my sad look.

What’s going on in this little head of yours darling? She asked

Well huh… I hope you and Liam will accept to let me stay here for a bit… I know I came unannounced but…

Of course you will, you’re family. Now get to the main topic and mix the vanilla with the cream please. She interrupted me, handing me a bowl

I obliged and felt tears invade my eyes immediately.

Noel and I are not doing fine.

The opposite would have surprised me.

There are always people in the house, I don’t know most of ‘em. Noel is here, partying, alcohol and drugs never miss, he’s all touchy, smiling and laughing, but during the rare occasions we’re alone, he doesn’t talk to me or touches me, it’s like he’s even avoiding me…

I see…

And what happened yesterday was too much. I just… lost it. You know during Knebworth that I befriended Kate Moss. She was there yesterday. She made me feel like a fucking mardy get because when she asked how I was doing, I told her the truth. Noel told me to shut up, and Kate added the sentence she shouldn’t have said.

Which was?

“You should try to get through it”. I answered, imitating her

Oh shit.

So like I said, I just lost it. I got… so angry. I was mean and I escaped to Noel’s studio where I’m not supposed to go, it’s his space. But it was the only room I could go to be alone. And then Noel joined me and we argued. He told me the sentence I don’t want to hear. I’m not able to hear it yet. The famous “we’ll try again”. As if Andy never existed. So I got drunker, cried, threw up, thought and thought and thought again before passing out. And when thinking, I just saw who I was becoming, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to become this bloody alcoholic, this woman drowning her sorrow in liquid. So I told Noel that we need some time for ourselves, so our couple can get better. Because I love him so much Patsy. I don’t want us to be torn apart again…

Oh I know that you love him. And I understand. But you need to be at peace with your mind and body again. You were going to have a baby, that’s who Andy was. He was already a little human still growing in you, a person, you were excited, you wanted him. And just like that, he was taken away from you. You’re grieving. You’re grieving your son, who he was going to be, you’re grieving the mother you were about to be to him. And that’s perfectly normal. It’s as if you were grieving any loss A parent, a cousin, a cat… No one has to decide for you when it has to stop. But you have the power to do it, and for it, you need time. And of course you’re not done grieving only three months after. It’s common sense. Only a mother, even when she was a mum to be and technically in her heart, already a mum can understand this kind of grief.

She said everything. I felt less crazy. My situation was beyond normal. I broke down and she took me in her arms.

Thank you… I said

For what? For saying the truth?

Yes. Everyone except my mum, Peggy and you made me feel it wasn’t normal.

But it is. And Noel is also grieving. You both tried to face it but it’s too painful and you need to take time for yourselves.

That’s what I think, yes.

And you’re goddamn right.

*

When Liam was back home, we chatted, us three. It felt good to be understood. He wasn’t happy with his brother’s behaviour.

Fucking scouse schlepper. I know I can be a pain in the ass most of the time, me. But I would never behave like that. I don’t think he really remembers what our mam has been through. I know it’s something else, but I remember the nights where we could hear her scrinkin’ ‘cause she was struggling to make ends meet, to keep a roof over our heads, to feed us, to raise us despite all the shite we were doing and problems we were bringing her. From the moment she knew she was pregnant with each of us three, she loved us and already was our mam. She was so fucking scared of losing us and that the social services would come and take us away from her.

I already know all that Li’.

I know, it’s just to say that his behaviour towards ye has been fucking rank. Sometimes I wonder if he remembers where he fucking comes from.

He’s hurt too Li’…

He maybe is. But what is it right, is that he’s being a teetotal arsehole. Anyway. Ye know ye can stay here as long as you want, ye’re me sister Y/N. But I think ye need holidays. Like in Spain or summat like that, under the sun. Somewhere where ye’ll feel godlike.

And I’ll accompany you. Patsy added

It would be great, but I don’t earn enough for that.

I’ll pay everything fer ye.

Oh come on cock, you’re not going to…

I will. Ye saved me life countless of times Y/N. Let me do the same fer ye.

*

Patsy and I left two days after, when James went back to his father’s. We went to Malaga, in the south of Spain. It was sunny and hot. We would stay there for a full month. Sat on the terrace of the rented house on the hill, I was admiring the landscapes around. I could see the mere horizon and the silhouette of the African continent that wasn’t so far.

Have you ever been to Africa? I asked

Not yet, but I hope one day I will. Patsy answered

Me too. I always imagine the Lions, elephants, zebras or giraffes and the Saharan desert like it is told to us when we’re young folks, when you learn it at school or when you see it on TV. But I think there’s so much more to see.

Oh there is! What we’re learning or are always told is that the Saharan desert is only sand, but in truth it’s mainly rocky.

I know! In fact, us Europeans don’t know much about Africa. You and I should go together one day.

With pleasure! Oh get ready! She said, looking at her watch

Ready for what?

To get pampered! We’ve got spa and massages.

Wait, what the… Did Liam also pay that?

Yeah he did.

But it must be so expensive!

He just wants you to heal and feel better.

A massage won’t heal me. It always feels good though. But I’m still going to fucking kill him.

*

Three weeks later, the owner of the rented house came to give me a package. I opened it. I was surprised to find a CD with a word. It was from Noel. I could recognize his handwriting.

“Finally finished this song, It’ll be on the album. Please, give it a go. I love you with all my being and beyond. Tenderly, your Noely.”

On the CD was written the title. “Stand by me (mustique demo)”

I first heard the song in 1994 during a soundcheck in Japan.

I went to the living room where a CD player was. I put it in and pressed on play.

Patsy heard the intro of the song and sat on the stairs.

Is that… she started

Yup, a new song. It’s an Avant premiere.

It seems to be a special one since it was Noel who sent it to you, am I wrong?

No you’re not. And indeed, I think it might be one, yeah.

“ Made a meal and threw it up on Sunday I've got a lot of things to learn Said I would and I'll be leaving one day Before my heart starts to burn”

What does he mean? Patsy asked

After Noel saved me from Kenneth, he took care of me. Peggy tried to give him some advice to cook us meals to make sure we were eating properly. One day he cooked us a Sunday roast and it led to food poisoning. We vomited for two days. After that we came back to pot noodles.

Oh!

And then, the chorus.

“Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows the way it's gonna be Stand by me, nobody knows Yeah, nobody knows, the way it's gonna be” 

I started crying. Noel was really scared to lose me. He was really scared I would leave him. But I wouldn’t.

Hey, are you okay? Patsy asked, when she saw my tears

Yeah, just got a bit emotional that’s all.

Oh, come here. She said, opening her arms to me

I found refuge in them.

“If you're leaving will you take me with you? I'm tired of talking on my phone There is one thing I can never give you My heart will never be your home”

Here he’s alluding to when we were first together, when he left for tour with the Inspiral carpets. We were calling each other everyday but it wasn’t enough to save our couple. He’s also talking about the fact we’re both clawing to our independence and a certain freedom. That’s even why he doesn’t want me to hang around in his studio at home and it’s perfectly understandable. Though, he’s lying a bit too because our hearts are each other’s home.

He’s talented. He knows what he’s writing.

Well at least here, yes.

What do you mean?

I mean that cocaine and alcohol might have helped during the creation of some songs. Like for Wonderwall and Champagne Supernova for example. They are masterpieces, no one is gonna deny that, but the lyrics are nonsense. Everyone feels these songs in their heart and give them the meaning they want. But if you ask people what the lyrics mean after a dictionary, they’re going to look at you and answer “in fact, I don’t know shit”. I feel like Noel didn’t realise it yet.

You’re right. You really are. Your analysis is clever.

*

Two nights after, I was watching the movie Highlander, and I was singing out loud everytime a Queen song was coming in the movie.

At the middle of it, I heard a noise that wasn’t part of it. I paused the movie and listened closely. The noise happened again.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! I said to myself

Rocks at my window. And it surely wasn’t Patsy.

I opened the window and stepped back.

Not this time me love; I saw ye open the window. He said

I approached.

What the hell are you doing here Gallagher? I asked

I… I miss ye. I wanted to see this pretty face of yers.

Jeez! I miss you too Noel, but please, respect my choices, I told you I would be coming back when I’ll be ready.

And I know ye enough to tell this day will never come. I’m actually losing ye. I can’t let that happen. Can I come in? I have two gifts for ye.

I hesitated.

No, Patsy might be sleeping. Wait for me, I’m coming to you. Just let me put on a jacket.

I couldn’t find my jacket, so I grabbed a plaid and put it on my shoulders. I went downstairs and opened the door. Here he was, standing.

Hey beautiful. He said

Hey. I answered

I took him in my arms and held him tight. I missed him too, but a part of me was still desperate because of what happened to us and because of what he told me.

Do ye… want to take a walk? I t could be good, and we could chat? He asked

Yeah, that’s a good idea. There’s a small forest in there. I said, indicating my left

I closed the front door behind me, and we started walking.

So… how are ye doing? He asked, not knowing where to start

I’m okay. Trying to get better. What about you?

I’m fine. I’m working a lot, so it doesn’t give me time to… think about it.

About him, Noel, not about it. Just say things as they are. What happened to us? Before Andy, we could communicate and say things as they were…

I didn’t mean “it” love. I just didn’t know if ye were ready to hear me say “him”.

Ready or not, he was our son Noel. Not just an object. I just don’t know how you function on this one.

Well I’m still coping with it, me. I knew ye never meant to sound selfish because I know ye’re not. But it shattered me too Y/N. And I didn’t know how to talk about Andy without making ye scrink, knowing it was already what ye were doing before sleeping and when waking up. It broke me heart to know our son died, and yer cries were breaking it more. He’s gone and there’s nothing more we can do.

But since it shattered you that much Noel, why did you say “we’ll try again” when you’re apparently grieving him? And why not talking about this with our supposed friends who are invading your house everyday?

Because they wouldn’t understand. Only us two know what it is and what it feels like. And I’m soz fer saying we’ll try again. It’s a sensitive topic fer us both and I want us to get through it. And we will, with time. Ye’re right we need to talk about Andy. And when I was telling ye I was starting to lose ye, I was right. Ye don’t call our home “our house” but mine. And if I didn’t come here, I’m sure you would never come back, because you’ll think we wouldn’t talk about Andy. We have lost a baby, that’s true. But I want this event to make our couple stronger. I want to marry ye, no matter what and have a family with ye.

I chuckled.

Noel, what you’re saying is beautiful, but you’re oh so blind. I answered

And why so?

You haven’t touched me in months! When we hugged a few minutes ago it was the first time since October! You haven’t kissed me. When I was scrinkin’, you were downstairs with your buds, drinking and snorting cocaine! Words are beautiful, but what about acts?

A silence settled in.

Sex isn’t what ye need when ye’ve lost…

Oh shut your cake ole. Stop finding excuses.

Ye’re right, I fucked up and I apologize. And don’t think I hold ye responsible fer Andy because it’s not yer fault. I know ye enough to know ye feel guilty. So please, don’t.

I think I needed to hear this. Because he was right. I felt guilty deep inside. And I needed him more than that. It just couldn’t and wouldn’t go like this. Not without his support.

Promise me.

Promise what?

That’s you’ll finally support me.

That’s why I’m here. And also to give ye this.

As we arrived in the dark forest, Noel took out too things of his pocket. The first was a medallion with Andy’s hand imprint. He insisted on doing it after his death. Just this should have made me understand he was in pain too. He put the necklace around my neck. Tears invaded my eyes.

Thank you. I said

He showed me his neck. He had the same.

He’s with us both.

The second gift was my engagement ring that I forgot in London.

And also this because I can’t let ye forget we’re a fucking team and I still really want to marry ye. I’ll support ye no matter what. I love ye Y/N. I fucking love ye beyond anything. We can get through it. I’ve been an arsehole and I’m so soz, because ye know this is not who I really am.

I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him. I just brought my lips to his and held him as tight as I could. He kissed me back and did the same. I started peppering his neck with kisses and he gasped. He wrapped his arms around my waist. When I stopped, I guided his body to the grass. He sat down, and I hovered him, kissing him again. I put my hands on both sides of his face, while he wrapped his arms around me again. I quickly felt him get hard under me.

Noel…

I want ye too Y/N. I need ye. Touch me… He answered

I unbuckled, unzipped and unbuttoned his trousers. I put my hand on his hard bulge and started massaging it.

He moaned lowly, before squeezing my ass and kissing my neck.

He stopped my hand and pushed me away before putting the plaid I had on my shoulders away and sliding down my nightdress off. He looked at my body.

Ye’re so goddamn beautiful. I hope ye know it.

And so are you, handsome.

I helped him get rid of his jacket and tee before dealing with his jeans and boxers.

When we were both naked, he started kissing me again, putting me on top of him again.

Tell me… He said

Tell you what?

Tell me what ye want me to do and I’ll do it.

You know what I want.

I’d like to hear it. I need to hear it.

I put my mouth near his hear.

I want you to make love to me Noely.

He took his member in his hand and guided himself inside me.

We both moaned in unison.

Are ye okay?

I haven’t felt this good in months. I answered

He started rolling his hips against mine, as I put my arms around his neck, enjoying the heat and the passion of our reunion. It as slow and tender. What we both needed.

Oh god… yes… Noel moaned

It was as if our lives depended on it. Our hands were roaming on each other’s body.

It was strong. It was powerful. Full of love.

I love you Noel. I said between moans

He went deeper with his thrusts, making me moan loudly as he touched my G-spot. I felt his arms getting tighter around me.

Our moans and the sound of our bodies slapping against each other were filling the forest and slightly echoing.

I felt myself getting closer to my orgasm as Noel’s member hit my sweet spot everytime. My walls were contracting around him, causing him to lose the rhythm of his movements.

Give it to us, love. Make us cum. Ye know we need it. Please.

I arched my back to give him a better angle, his hands on it.

He panted in my mouth, his eyes closed, his face slightly contorsioning with pleasure.

It was all I needed to be thrown over the edge. It felt so intense that tears invaded my eyes again, and sobs, sobs of pleasure mixed with moans took over.

A familiar coil exploded in my lower stomach, as I shut my eyes, tears spilling from them, my insides convulsing around Noel’s manhood.

I didn’t know it was as intense for me that it was for Noel, who cried out, sobbed, and finally groaned in pleasure, before emptying himself inside me.

My head fell in the crook of his neck, that was wet with sweat and… tears?

I looked at him. He was crying, just like me.

You scrinkin’? I asked, catching my breath

Yea… He answered

Why?

Because it was too much. And because I love ye so fucking much I would die without ye. I was so scared to lose ye again.

We’re scrinkin’ for the same thing.

Good. Means we’re connected.

He softened inside me, so I pulled out. We lay next to each other in the grass, Noel covering us with the plaid.

I really want to marry ye. Let’s do it when the occasion will let us.

I agree on that.

But let’s be clear on summat. I’m not doing or saying this to make ye me property or because I’m scared to lose ye. Ye’ll always belong to yerself. I’m doing and saying this because I love ye, I want us when the time will come again to have our family, and I want ye to stand by me.

And I will. Nobody knows the way it’s gonna be, huh?

He smiled, knowing now that I listened to the song.

No, nobody knows. But at least, we’ll be together.