#the tone of this is clearly pretty humourous

[sim0nril3y]

Oml I love your weighting style so much!!!!!

I have no idea if you’ve already done something’s like this but I think a cute little fluffy moment where reader is at the shop and one of Simon’s men run into her, they don’t know she’s daiting Simon and start flirting but soon realizes she’s Simon’s gf when he like calls or something!

Feel free not to do it but just putting it out there ❤️💗

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Note: This was such a fun request, thank you so much for requesting it! Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), canon-typical swearing.

Your eyes lingered on the wall of spices and ingredients before you. Now, what was it that Simon had said to get? Was it ground cardamom or cardamom pods? Bugger, why hadn’t you been listening? Maybe it was because you were thoroughly distracted because Simon had just gotten out of the shower, standing there in all his nude glory, water trickling down his big burlychest…

Concentrate.

Now, he had said… oh, which one was it? Think. Think… think about his strong chest and broad shoulders… his tummy and that wonderful happy trail… the way his hair was all ruffled and wet. Fuck, you were so damn lucky-

“Is there a reason that you’re looking at that spice rack like you’re about to tackle it to the ground?” A charming tone came from beside you, glancing over to see a young man standing with basket in hand, handsome smile on his face, eyes filled with humour. “Do you find spices that offensive?” He quizzed.

“What? Oh, no…” A laugh sprung from your lips then, shaking your head. This man was unreasonably pretty, tall and an intense but welcoming gaze. “No, no… I’m just trying to remember what I need…” Then your eyes wandered back to that wall of spices again.

The man hummed and then said. “Ah, so you didn’t write it down?” He quizzed, stepping forward to be beside you. “Now, that is a problem cause… I mean, there are quite a few aren’t there…” The heavy dose of sarcasm to his tone made a laugh spring from your lips. “Luckily for you I am an absolute genius when it comes to spices, so I can help you out.” The way he grinned was bordering on cocky.

“Oh, my hero~” You replied back resisting the urge to roll your eyes, but he simply chuckled and returned back. “Well, some people call me that, but you call me-”

A curt tone came from behind you. “Private Stone.” You saw the fear that shocked through him then, clearly recognising the sound of Simon’s voice with far less affection that you did. “Lt. Riley.” He hiccupped back, standing a little straighter, face far less charmingly smiley now.

Just as Simon moved to be standing by your side his arm wrapped around your waist and the message was very clear to the young man. “I’m surprise to see you swanning around off base when you have you re-test tomorrow morning. I would have thought passing that might be more crucial than chatting up birds at the supermarket.” He watched the way the Private shook his head all too quickly and held up a firm hand in his direction. “I don’t want to hear it. You better make yourself scarce.”

It was only a moment later that the Private went rushing off down the aisle away from the two of them and Simon chuckled to himself as he stepped forward to pick up the cardamom pops from the row of spices, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?” “You had far too much fun with that.” You smirked back to him.

“Maybe.” Simon answered, stepping over to wrapped his strong arms around you, forcing his hand into the back of your jean pocket and squeezing in a tender way. “I know a way we can have more fun. C’mon, we should get home.”

Masterlist | Ask | 30-01-2025

[konigslilcumslut]

Ghost didn’t really know what jealousy was originally.

Given his standing as Lieutenant the most you’d get out of the dry ass humour having man was orders barked out and that same cold gaze.

Safe to say he never treated you any differently from his other soldiers so there would be no risk of jealousy right?

However…

The first time jealousy seemed to creep up on him, was when he spotted you with Gaz. At first it was just passing, not really understanding why or even how he felt the way he did.

But then it became a constant.

Any time he saw you too close to another soldier he’d grow stiff and irritable. Any time he’d catch you leaving the mess hall with a group of men he hated it.

Yet eventually you also became fed up with his behaviour…

So without thinking, not realising the consequences of your own actions (same) you burst into his private quarters, yelling “what the hell is your fucking problem?!”…unfortunately for you though…

You seemed to catch the Lieutenant at a bad time.

He’d just gotten out of the shower, in the process of pulling his mask back on but you saw a small glimpse of his face, water dripping down the chiselled lines of hard earned muscle and a towel tightly wrapped around his waist.

And when he locked eyes with you, you could’ve sworn there was something a whole lot more…feral to his cold gaze than just anger.

“The fuck did you just say to me soldier?” His rough tone would ring out, stepping closer as his gaze would remain locked with yours.

“What is your fucking problem?” You’d stand your ground, clearly a little too proud to stand down at the challenge you now faced.

There was a thick silence…heavy as the air around you both seemed to shrink until your chests heaved to get some oxygen to your brains.

“You.”

It came out clear and cold. Yet so undeniably heated.

“You are my fucking problem. You’re driving me insane. I see you with another soldier and the only thing running through my fucking mind is putting them in the ground love. You have no idea what you do to me.” His tone would grow lower, stepping towards you as his chest heaved and his eyes never waver from your locked stare.

“I look at you and I want nothing more than to shove you into the nearest room, rip that damn uniform off your body and fuck your pretty cunt till you beg me to stop.” He almost snarls his own words out, as if hating the fact he was even thinking it.

“I am a soldier. I am a Lieutenant, I have a duty to uphold but god damnit if you keep looking at me like that I am going to lose my fucking mind.” He was barely inches away from you, so close you could almost taste the self restraint coming from him.

“Either walk away or get on the fucking bed love.”

___________________________

To be continued….? If ya’ll want….?

[luveline]

Hi jadeeeee I have a request for coworker James! Another man whether it’s at work or somewhere else starts hitting on reader and James get jealous and realizes he hates seeing her with other guys

ty for requesting 💌 fem

It’s another sunny day at the office, but today is the day the vending machine men come in and fill them, so it’s not all bad. The doors and windows are wide open, the air is fresh and clean. 

“It’s too hot,” Remus complains without any real passion. 

“It’s not that bad,” Sirius says, though he raises his hand to begin fanning Remus anyhow. “It feels hotter than it is because of the humidity.” 

“I feel amazing,” James says. He gives you a nudge with his shoe, his hair tickling his neck as he leans back in his chair. “It’s not that hot, is it?” 

“It’s boiling,” you say. 

You were never going to agree with him. It could be sub zero and you’d tell him you were on fire. James rolls his eyes at you and continues a rather lavish existence of sun, breeze, and cold grapes, their crisp insides popping between his teeth. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

James lifts his head. 

“That’s okay,” Jordan says, to James’ immediate affront. There’s no need for the man in charge of maintaining the vending machine to be talking to you in that tone. It’s bordering too sweet. 

“I’m always in your way,” you laugh. 

“You? In my way? Never.” 

You turn to Remus with an obvious expression. Is he flirting with me? it says. 

Remus looks at James —what the fuck?— before he gives you a tentative back and forth of his head, weighing it up. He shrugs. 

James shakes his head resolutely. 

You give them both the silent version of I understand and settle down in your seat again. The vending machine guy (what’s his name again? James can’t remember) pops open the front cover of the machine and takes out the change box. Clearly, he doesn’t categorise you or the boys as a risk of burglary. 

“So,” Jordan says, “how was your weekend? Did you do much?” 

“In this weather?” you ask with light-humoured sarcasm. “I went on a couple of walks, nothing huge. How about you?” 

“Went to a couple of matches.” 

“Rugby or football?” 

“Rugby, always.” 

James feels the pressure of his teeth clenching at the back of his head. “Do you play, mate?” he asks. 

Jordan looks at him in surprise. “No, we just watch. It’s an excuse to have a pint before five.” 

You break two slices of your clementine away from each other. James doesn’t know why, but your gaze is on him, and that’s where he wants it. “Day drinker?” he asks sympathetically. 

“James,” Sirius says, laughing. “Grow up.” 

“Sometimes,” Jordan says. He finishes reinstalling the change holder and starts to push snacks and drinks onto the vending machine shelves. “Gotta have a little bit of fun every now and then, right?” 

He emphasises to you. 

You give a shy smile. “Right.” 

Jordan finishes his job and wishes everyone goodbye quickly after that. You chew your clementine, your finger looped under your bracelet, tugging slowly round and around. He fucked that up for you, didn’t he? You couldn’t get very far with him poking holes at poor Jordan, but… you’d been smiling at him nicely. You’re allowed to smile at whoever you want to, of course you are, so why did James act like that? 

“Sorry,” he says. 

You slide your thumb between slices of clementine. “To me?” you ask from the corner of your mouth. “For what?” 

Sirius and Remus laugh at the same time. 

James ignores them. “I was mean to him. How are you ever gonna get a date if I bully the vending machine guy?” 

“You think I can’t get a date?” you ask. 

“No.” He grimaces. “No, just, he’s a dickhead.” 

“As opposed to who? You?” you ask. 

James is pretty sure his vision goes white. He hates seeing you with other boys, but this isn’t where he wanted the conversation to go. He doesn’t wanna be your boyfriend. He just hates seeing you happy with other people. 

Oh, god, he thinks. That’s horrible. 

“I think you can do a whole lot better than Jacob the vending machine guy.” 

“Jordan,” you correct, laughing. You don’t bring him up on avoiding your real question, perhaps you don’t notice. You just laugh with Remus and pass James a piece of your clementine. “Vending machines are an honest living. Don’t be so classist.” 

“You’re classist,” he rebukes weakly. He ignores Sirius’ knowing gaze to offer you his punnet of grapes. “Horrible woman.” 

“Get it together, Potter.” 

James doesn’t know what to say to you after that, so he says nothing at all. Your clementine is sweet on his tongue. 

[valentine-cafe]

Can I please order the mango pancakes?

I just want Reader teaching Hǎitāo how to ride him. Lots of teasing but also reassurance and praise please!

˖⁺. “ ride it ” : 

﹙ bttm grim reaper x top male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 9948e haitao x male reader  !! 🍒 : ﹙ grim reaper ˖ mortician ˖ necromancer character ﹚

you teach your typically confident boyfriend how to ride you

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ penetrative sex ˖ fingering ˖ riding ˖ teasing ˖ nipple play | wc : 1.8k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: order up! glad to be getting stuff for haitao now <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

“Telling me a cocky bastard like you hasn’t ridden dick before?”

The swat to your black tshirt makes you chuckle. Maroon eyes that typically shone with ego to compliment his general air of confidence now shimmer with a foreign tepidness. Certainly not an unwelcomed one. It stirred humour in your soul to see how pathetically your boyfriend looked at you. All helpless in your lap with the dim light of the idle television that has him backlit.

“Are you going to keep running your mouth like a ghoul or - ah,” Hǎitāo’s words lilt into a whine. Your fingers cut his rudeness right off with a reminder of their presence. Quick and tempered thrusts against that one spot. The swirl of your digits and the slow massage into the bundle of nerves sends his back into a pretty arch.

You bite on your smile and tilt your head with that shit-eating grin he usually adorns. The muscles along your fingers flex as they effortlessly piston up into his clenching hole. They withdraw with a small pop! and you instead circle your lube-lathered fingers around his rim.

While you will not be able to see it in its full glory, the idea of how he’ll stretch and clench so beautifully around your awaiting cock sends a thrum through the veins. As much as you would love to finger-fuck him all night long and behold those dollish tears in the corners of his eye. . . your dick weeps its own tears to split him open.

Such a needy thing you are in your own right.

“You should watch your mouth pretty boy. ‘les you want it to occupy my dick instead?” His moans of protest flow through the room while your fingers punctuate with rough pumps at an angle you know will have him cross-eyed soon enough. You lean into the grey leather of the sofa to get a better view. “Awww but you don’t want that right? Y’wanna ride my dick like a good boy.”

Your other thumb reaches to circle his cherry-tip. The callouses of your print roughly drag along his slit and you can only chuckle at the spurt that coats it in no time. As though his poor dick is crying for you to give him yours. To bounce him on your lap like a ragdoll.

Who are you to deny?

His black trousers graze down his pale skin in the matter of seconds. Hǎitāo’s yelp turns into another whine at the swift spank to his ass. The way you grab at the fat of it and grip tight. Grind him down to your awaiting bulge.

“You want this baby?”

“Y-Yes for fuu-ah-cks sakes -”

The click of your tongue joins the clink of your belt. It takes only a few shuffles of fabric and the noiseless static of the tv until you are there. Cock standing proud and ready to split your boyfriend open as you always do.

As if on cue, Hǎitāo’s hips steer downwards. Like a man starved. Eager for its weekly-dose of stretching and cumming. Alas your hands lock on him like restraints. He is baffled by the cruelty of them - as though they are guards keeping him from his beloved! How dare.

“You’re being a prick.” The dryness of his voice is quite the contrast to the slickness of lube and precum. You take no offense to his gritted teeth and only swat his thigh. Despite his clearly frustrated tone, you answer back in a gentleness that soothes the flames of his desire.

“Easy baby. . . I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The small of his back becomes a resting place for your fingers. They stroke slowly while your free hand grips at the softness of his hip. The last thing you wish is to bring him pain halfway through. Have to stop when you’re both on the brink of mindless release so that he can gulp down his scoliosis meds.

While his need is great and his walls are begging to have you pound them silly, he relents. Allows you to ease him down and tenderly spread his ass open for your tip. As though you were prepping him first-time-yoga session rather than about-to-rearrange-his-guts.

Nevertheless, his head falls onto your shoulder with hushed moans. The feel of you filling him up has always been something he is addicted to. The darkness of the room consumes him just as the pleasure does - and he can all but sigh blissfully as you languidly ease him down.

The pulse of his walls do little to aid your restraint. What is restraint when faced with his insatiable ass? You know no definition. Not when your balls finally hilt to his soft cheeks. Not when he’s panting into your neck with kisses to soothe his own pleasure. It’s as if he wants you to shove him over the arm of the sofa and fuck him wild rather than teach him how to ride. Surely he knows what he does to you, right?

“Fuuckk baby, how am I s’possed to teach you when you’re this tight?” You give a few shallow thrusts to emphasize. If he squeezes around you one more time you are not sure how long you’ll last. So you brace yourself on his soft thighs with fingers buried in to hold yourself togther.

“Who’s th-the impatient - hah- one now?”

Brat.

The deep groan that rumbles in your throat will be the only way to sate the growing urge in your cock. To fuck him quiet.

Instead you tut. “Be nice.” Palms flatten over his pale flesh and your back meets the sofa as you lean back further. Your hips steady a small grind up. Once, twice, just to loosen him up a bit. Before you ease yourself into the grey leather and give a small nod of your head.

“Now. . . gonna move your hips down like - this -” the rhythm that your hands set on his hips is one his skillfully follow. For a moment you want to call him a liar with the way he rolls his hips down into yours so well. The slow, tantalizing rocks that leave you breathless. Like he’s trying to make you sing prayers to his name. “Yeah - that’s it. . . ‘atta boy.”

You aid with the first few pumps against his ass. Only because you enjoy the soft plap plap plap that fills the living room. It will engrave itself into the walls. So that whenever sit in this very seat, you’ll remember this pretty little thing in your lap.

It won’t take long for your hands to move on to other matters once he has a hang of it. The rock of his hips links with his soft hiccups and gasps. Your palms itch to make him moan and so distract themselves with the hem of his white shirt. Fingers bully their way into the fabric and roll them up over his chest. So that you can behold his nipples that perk so sweetly.

Your mouth joins the mix. You are all tongue, pinches and licks once you are on his chest. The sparks of pleasure well in his tummy and motivate him to buck down a bit faster. The sofa greets the quicker movement with a whining of its own.

“Eager thing,” you gulp a groan. Your tongue is far too busy swirling around his right nipple to negate his pace while your fingers tweak at his left. “Yeah. . . just like that pretty boy. Doing s’well for me. Fuck.”

At last Hǎitāo moans. It sounds like heaven to your ears. Your hips race to worship. The claps of his skin create a symphony to your joined moans and groans. Every heavy smack of your balls against his has him clenching around your cock. It thrums through the veins and sends your grunts along his slick nipples.

“M-Mngh - ah- god that’s good.” His slurs to your ear are only hightened with moans as his body follows yours as though it’s a competition. Hips clap down on your own and his skin slides against yours in the most sensual way. Most sinful of ways.

Oh you wish you could see it. See the way your cock is making its home within his tight walls. How his bounces squirt the slick of lube and precum out. The lewd sight that would soon have you nutting before him. Alas you would rather fuck a few rounds of cum out of him before you even dream of releasing yourself.

“Yeaah, feel good? Feels good riding me huh pretty boy? Taking it like you’re the best?”

He kisses at your grin. Your tongue shoots into his mouth so that you swap spit and clutch at one another with a growing desperation. You know this frequency of moans and whines. The sudden sloppiness of his bounces as he kisses you so needily.

If not that - then the way his head throws back after he shimmied his way down all the way to your hilt. The rough, mindless swirls of his hips that glue your eyes to the scene below. You’ll have to choose - watch his poor dick squirt in the next for seconds or the way his face will twist with pleasure.

“C-Cumming - ‘m cummin-!” He cries. Seems you settle for both.

The spurt of his cum delights your vision and you have to force your gaze up to his face. Just in time to witness the roll of his maroon eyes. Oh they cross so beautifully. You simply have to snatch up his waist and fuck into him rapidly. Have that small whine turn into an ‘ah-ah-ah!’

“B-Baby please - hngh,” his hands clap down onto your shoulders. Fist at your shirt as his head tips forward and he moans at the endless rocking. The rough bounces and smacks of skin that shoot him closer to a second orgasm within the matter of minutes.

You can only grin. Reach up and cup his face as though you are so sorry for what you are doing to him. He knows better by the shine in your eyes. The lowness to your voice.

“Told you I was gonna teach you to ride, right?” You grunt through a cruel, breathless laugh. Hips not letting up for even a second.

“Well class’ still in session. Sorry gorgeous boy. Bounce that pretty ass.”

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[isak-dot-gov]

Always within reach

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Short!eader

Word count: 1021

Based on this request

My masterlist :)

.....................................

Life with Nika was full of laughter, and today was no different. The kitchen was alive with the aroma of dinner cooking on the stove, soft music playing in the background, and the gentle clinking of utensils as you tried to finish up a recipe. You stood on your tiptoes, determined to reach the jar of spices on the top shelf of the cupboard. Your fingers barely grazed the glass, but despite your best efforts, it remained stubbornly out of reach.

You let out a huff of frustration, planting your feet back on the floor and staring up at the jar as if sheer willpower might bring it down. No such luck. After a moment, you gave in and called out, “Baby! Can you help me for a sec?”

Nika appeared in the doorway almost instantly, as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. A smirk was already forming on her lips as she took in the scene—her much shorter girlfriend, staring helplessly up at a jar far beyond her reach. She leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. “Need a hand, shorty?” she teased, her voice dripping with playful amusement.

You rolled your eyes at her, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Yes, obviously,” you replied, your tone exasperated but light. “Or you can just keep standing there making fun of me.”

Nika chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “Oh, I’m definitely gonna do both,” she said, pushing off the doorframe and strolling over to you. She reached up effortlessly, her long arm making it look ridiculously easy as she grabbed the jar with a single hand. But instead of handing it to you right away, she held it just out of your reach, her grin widening with every second.

You narrowed your eyes playfully, crossing your arms over your chest. “Seriously?” you asked, your voice half-amused, half-exasperated. “What’s it gonna take to get my jar back?”

Nika tilted her head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I dunno. What’s the magic word?”

You sighed dramatically, knowing exactly where this was going. “Please?” you said, your tone as innocent as you could manage.

She raised an eyebrow, giving you a mock-thoughtful look. “I think I need to hear it with more enthusiasm, bebo.”

You stared at her for a moment, trying not to laugh, and then you gave in. “Pretty please, Nika? My tall, amazing girlfriend, who I’m so lucky to have around to help me reach high places?”

Nika burst out laughing, clearly pleased with your over-the-top flattery. “Much better,” she said with a grin, finally handing you the jar. As she did, she leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the forehead, her voice softening as she added, “You know, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

You smiled up at her, setting the jar on the counter and shaking your head. “And you’re lucky you’re tall. Otherwise, I’d never let you live down not being able to reach anything either.”

Nika grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “True, but then who’d get to tease you all the time? You keep me entertained, pretty girl.”

You playfully elbowed her in the side, though it was clear from your expression that you didn’t mind the teasing. It was part of what made your relationship with Nika so special—her playful nature, the way she could turn any situation into something lighthearted and fun. She might have teased you endlessly about your height, but you knew that deep down, she loved being the one to help you. It was her way of showing affection, wrapped up in her unique sense of humour.

“Next time,” you said, feigning seriousness as you turned back to the counter, “I’m getting a step stool.”

Nika chuckled, planting a kiss on your cheek as she lingered close. “You do that, but I’m still gonna make fun of you.”

You leaned into her, resting your head against her shoulder as you felt the warmth of her presence wrap around you. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you murmured, your voice soft with affection.

Nika smiled down at you, squeezing you a little tighter as she kissed the top of your head. “Me neither, shorty. Me neither.”

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, wrapped in the comfortable silence that only comes from knowing someone so well. The teasing, the banter—it was all part of the rhythm you had created together. Nika’s playful jabs about your height had become a kind of love language between the two of you, a way to express affection without ever having to say the words.

Later that evening, after dinner had been eaten and the kitchen cleaned, you found yourselves curled up on the couch together. Nika had her arm draped over your shoulders, and you were nestled into her side, feeling completely at ease. The TV played softly in the background, but neither of you were really paying attention to it. Instead, you were just enjoying the quiet, content in each other’s presence.

At one point, Nika glanced down at you with a mischievous grin. “Hey, bebo,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “What’s it like down there? You know, from your shorter perspective?”

You laughed, gently swatting her arm. “Oh, you’re hilarious,” you replied, though there was no real bite to your words. “Shouldn’t you be the one asking for my perspective? I’ve got a better view of the important things—like all the dust you miss when you’re too busy looking up at the world.”

Nika’s laughter echoed through the room as she pulled you even closer, her voice warm and full of affection. “Alright, alright. You win this round, shorty.”

You smiled, snuggling deeper into her embrace. Moments like this—filled with laughter, teasing, and love—were what made your relationship with Nika so special. And no matter how much she teased you about your height, you knew that, at the end of the day, you were exactly where you were meant to be—right by her side, always within reach.

......................................

Isak speaks: I know a Nika edit hates to see me coming

[sashaisready]

Feel The Burn: Chapter 3

Lance Tucker x Reader | Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Series Masterlist

Your casual situationship with notorious flirt Lance Tucker comes to a shocking head at a party, fortunately the mysterious stranger you meet that same night is more than happy to help take your mind off it.

Wordcount: Approx. 2250

Sorry this took so long, I had a really restful Christmas break with my family and my whole brain shut down. But now it's back! Mostly! Thanks to everyone who has interacted with this story so far, I'm really enjoying it. As always, reblogs and comments mean the world. And shout out to SebStan for his golden globe win last night! Thoroughly deserved ⭐

“Lance…what are you-” you asked with trepidation as your eyes shift back to Chris, but he immediately interrupts.

“I’ve been trying to call you…” he explains coolly. He’s not looking at you, but over your shoulder at Chris, he seems irritated – his expression sour, “but there must be something up with your phone…”

“There’s not,” you respond curtly.

You see the tiniest hint of surprise on his face as he absorbs your meaning, you probably wouldn’t have even registered it if you didn’t know him like you did. But you do, and it’s there, a fleeting glimpse of fallibility before it’s consumed by his trademark smirk.

“Ah,” he chuckles knowingly without humour, “gotcha”.

“Is everything okay here?” Chris asks from behind you, his tone laced with concern. He gets up from the table and moves to stand next to you, an ally on your side of the battlefield.

“Everything’s fine, pal,” Lance responds before you can. His tone is breezy and light, but you can see him sizing Chris up. It’s almost funny to see them to see them together like this and you’re struck by the strange resemblance despite their stark differences in aesthetic. They could almost be brothers.

“Glad to hear it, pal,” Chris smirks back at him, unperturbed. “But I just want to hear it from the lady”.

“It’s fine, thanks Chris,” you smile at him before turning back to Lance.

“See? It’s fine, Chris,” Lance returns with a sickly-sweet grin, saying Chris’ name like its venom in his mouth. He expertly toes the line between sincerity and mockery, but it’s perfectly clear to you (and no doubt to Chris) which option he intends.

“I’m Lance, by the way,” he extends his hand to the other man and the two of them shake. Despite the cordial gesture, you can clearly see the way they’re both scrutinising each other.

Your eyes flit between the two men and you’re suddenly very aware that this not-quite-confrontation is happening at your place of work. You notice a few patrons glancing over and your heart suddenly beats faster. You’re not exactly one for public drama, you don’t want your personal life playing out in front of your customers and risking any potential impact to your business.

The thin veneer of politeness between Lance and Chris threatens to crack at any moment, particularly if Lance decides to be Lance and chooses to antagonise his new friend.

“So…Chris, what line of work are you in?” Lance practically sneers.

You feel your panic increase as they casually chat in strained short sentences about their jobs. You’re aware of how odd it is that you’re not chiming in, seeing as they’re both here for you – but you simply don’t know what to say. Chris showing up was a curveball, but Lance popping up too had completely knocked you off balance. You’re not built for this; you rarely have one man – let alone two. You can’t handle it.

“Mechanic huh? Maybe you could take a look at my fenders,” Lance grins.

“Yeah maybe,” Chris shoots back without missing a beat, “but I’m pretty busy. And very expensive…” he chuckles.

Lance laughs thinly and you realise you need to actually do something before this all implodes.

“I…uh…” you stumble as you try to ease the tension, but you seem to have forgotten how to form even the most basic sentences. You look between Chris and Lance as they both look back at you expectantly.

“What are you doing here, Lance?” you manage to hiss in a small whisper as you regain some of your composure.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he replies, leaning slightly closer towards you as if Chris wouldn’t be to hear. His briefly looks over at Chris and then back at you, slightly self-consciously. “I haven’t been able to get hold of you so-”

“I’ve been busy,” you cut him off, your voice hushed as to not draw to much attention. “And I don’t really think there’s anything to say”.

“What happened at the party…”

“I really don’t think there’s anything to say,” you repeat firmly, “and if there was, it wouldn’t be here…where I work”.

He bites his lip for a moment, glancing around the café as if he suddenly realises where he is for the first time. He scoffs dismissively, rolling his eyes.

“Cupcake…” he says almost teasingly.

“Lance, please,” you hiss again – your voice unintentionally more pleading than demanding.

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you’re surprised that his eyes soften in response. You just expected him to continue antagonising you, but he seems to pick up on your distress.

“Fine,” he yields, his voice gentler now, hushed. He takes a second to choose his words and clears his throat, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. It was shitty, what I did, and I wish I could take it back. And I wanted to explain…”

You don’t respond, your blank expression shuts down anything further. Inwardly you’re shocked, you’ve never heard anything like that come out of his mouth before. He’s exposed…almost vulnerable in that moment.

But you wouldn’t let him get wind of that. Not after what he did.

He seems unsurprised by your lack of reply and takes a step back, “I gotta get back to the gym. Good to meet you, man,” he nods over at Chris, his tone somber.

“Yeah, you too,” Chris rasps back unconvincingly.

“See you around, Cupcake,” he tells you as he walks to the door. The two of you lock eyes until he leaves. You know this is the right move, ignoring the slight stirring in your stomach.

Chris chuckles as the door closes, “wow, motherfucker in the flesh, huh?”

You grimace, offering a hollow laugh of your own, “yeah that’s him. I’m sorry…I didn’t expect him to show up here like that…I’m sorry he was a dick to you…”

“Eh. Nothing I can’t handle. There are guys like that everywhere, you just learn not to rise to it as that’s what they’re counting on,” Chris shrugs nonchalantly and sits back down at the table. “Clearly, he’s having regrets about what happened between you two, and he obviously was thrown by me being here. I bet he had a whole speech planned for you which I messed up for him…” he smirks.

You nod as you sit back down, still embarrassed about this mini soap opera playing out around you. But Chris seems utterly unfazed by it all, he carries a quiet confidence – like he has nothing to prove to anyone. The opposite of Lance, loud and proud – ensuring everyone knows who he is. Surely Chris doesn’t need this? He’s cool. Calm. He can’t want high school stuff like this in his life.

“Chris…” you begin hesitantly, “I’m really glad you came over here to see me. And it’s been really nice chatting with you. But I’m sorry you’re somehow mixed up in my shit. Funnily enough my personal life is never normally this interesting,” you force a laugh, “but look…I’d completely understand if you don’t want to deal with my drama…”

“There’s no drama,” he cuts you off and begins collecting up your used mug and plate, “and I want to be here. It would take more than some jumped-up Olympian to scare me away from you,” he shoots you a wink.

You feel yourself flush at the compliment, then watch as he stacks up the crockery on the table.

“If you’re sure…Hey…you don’t have to do that…” you protest, going to take the plates from him. But he lightly shoos you away.

“Like I said, I want to”, he re-iterates as he locks eyes with you, “it’s okay to let people help you, you know”.

His tone is gentle, but the meaning is firm. He’s not just talking about dirty plates. You relent, dropping your hands to your sides as he moves the stack to the counter which Marina accepts with a smile. She thanks him as she moves them to the dishwasher crate, and he steps back towards you.

“Guess I’m kinda used to doing everything myself,” you smile meekly, your eyes dropping to your knees.

Chris leans over and props your chin up with his thumb. You’re practically nose-to-nose with him now, his cerulean eyes boring into you with a heat that catches you by surprise.

“I can tell you’ve had experience with people who keep you guessing, or don’t tell you exactly what they mean,” he whispers without breaking eye contact, “so let me be clear here, I will always be upfront with you. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say”.

You blink, bewildered but enraptured. The coffee shop melts away around you, it’s just you and him here now.

“And so…” he continues, “I’ll lay my cards on the table here and now. I like you. I think you’re cute. I think you’re interesting. I want to get to know you better, maybe take you out for something stronger than a coffee. But if you’re not into it, that’s cool too. It’s an invite, not a summons.”

You can’t quite believe his directness, but it’s refreshing – clear and unambiguous, an oasis of clarity after being lost in the desert of Lance’s mixed signals for so long. You also can’t quite believe he’s into you, your general shyness means you don’t normally catch the eye of men like Chris. You’re sure he’d rather be with someone cooler, someone prettier, someone with their shit together. But he seems so sure…

Maybe it’s time to step out of your comfort zone, accept help like he said – but also take people at their word. Maybe this whole Lance mess was meant to happen to help you see that, and start accepting better, more. Accepting what you deserve.

You nod dumbly, inspired by his boldness you grab a napkin and a sharpie from the counter and scribble your phone number on it. You pass it over to him quickly before your nerves talk you out of it.

He grins, carefully folding up the napkin and slotting it into his pocket as if it were some delicate object that he needed to preserve.

“Well, thanks. I’ve gotta get back to the shop. Thanks for the coffee, and the danish was great – you were right to push it”.

“Told ya”, you beam back at him.

He leans over and kisses you on the cheek. It’s sweet, chaste – you can’t help the little gasp that escapes your lips. Your skin suddenly feels hot, your heart pounding. He smiles again, that charming smile, and you’re amazed that you haven’t melted into the floor

He moves to leave, then turns to you once more, scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“He calls you cupcake? How lame…” he laughs.

You manage a chuckle back and shrug nonchalantly, but inside you feel a small sting. Embarrassingly, you like that Lance calls you that. It had started when he’d dropped by the shop one morning early on in your fling, you’d given him a coffee and suggested he get a cupcake with it. The new banoffee recipe. He’d looked at you like you’d shot him, the horrified outrage on his face so theatrical that you had fallen about laughing. He launched into a rant about his training and fitness and the evils of sugar while you watched on, amused, and tickled. You knew he was hamming it up to make you laugh, smirking knowingly as he went on and on - and it had worked, you were in hysterics. It had culminated in you taking a bite of the cupcake as he ranted, in defiance of his sugar hatred. He had responded by swiping the remaining cake and swallowing it almost whole. He mock admonished you through mouthfuls of cake about the extra gym session he’d need to fit in to work it off now you’d ‘forced’ him to eat that, as you protested through giggles. And thus, Cupcake was sealed, his nickname from you from then on. He barely used your real name after that.

It became a bit between the two of you, you offering him junk food and then him ranting about his training in response. It was an instant guarantee to get him worked up, and you couldn’t resist. But it was never serious. He never judged you for what you ate, never shamed you or made you feel bad. His discipline as a trainer never translated to expectations or judgement of you, and you never felt like he was looking down his nose at you for not surviving on mostly protein like he did. In fact, he brought you sweet treats, ordered you take out. He’d steal bites of your fries and play innocent afterwards. (‘Why would I steal your fries? Baby…you think these abs come from fries…?’) You always imagined that sleeping with a gym bro would mean lectures about trans-fats and insisting on morning jogs, but Lance, to his credit, never once projected any of that onto you. You only ever felt comfortable in your own skin around him.

So, Chris’ teasing was a surprisingly pinch. You weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like Lance deserved any of your grace, and it was a pretty cringy nickname…

You moved it to the back of your mind.

You waved Chris off and smiled as he left the shop. You went back to work, basking in the giddiness and excitement of meeting someone new…and finally not feeling like an afterthought.

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea the Series: Intro (First Impressions & Predictions)

Because I'm a huge over-analyser whose known for my lengthy BL essays - here are my takeaways from the very brief glimpse we got to Mahasamut and Tongrak. They gave us literally a 1 minute teaser, so as you can imagine, I'm filling in a lot of blanks at this stage.

TONGRAK

Tongrak looks like he's going to be an unapologetic menace. A very sexy and sassy menace. He has an air of blasé indifference which screams 'yeah and so what?' you're not the boss of me'. Someone whose clearly a bit prickly, petulant and headstrong. Writers are often independent or even loners, as it's a very solitary field. They have a very strong vision of what they want, which can mean a reluctance to compromise.

I mentioned that he gives 'I know I'm hot shit' energy. He exudes a confident sexuality which is shown in how assertive he is when flirting and the smugness in how he retorts. He knows he's hot commodity and isn't afraid to flaunt it. Probably is used to having people wrapped around his little finger. 'We play by my rules, I decide if I want you or not'. At worst he may even see people around him as playthings.

Based on the general premise of the series, Tongrak comes to the seaside for inspiration. Uppity cosmopolitan city boy thrown in to the bohemian outdoors. He looks very noticeably out of place in this setting. But he may use that to his advantage, knowing others are looking at him, dazzled by a prince in the middle of literal nowhere.

MAHASAMUT

Now what comes across most strongly about Mahasamut is that he's clearly very possessive. This is signposted multiple times in this brief introduction alone. He steals Tongrak away when he's flirting with someone else. He drags him by the wrist across the beach. I assume at this point they've not known each other long and he's being very handsy and grabby. He asserts that Tongrak 'will have to love him.' (Which could mean: I'll make you fall in love with me whether you like it or not, OR you falling in love with me is inevitable because I'm just too goddamn charming). Pretty presumptuous all the same.

This tells us that Mahasamut is equally self-assured. He has bags of confidence in his ability to keep Tongrak interested. Though he's being turned down, he doesn't appear dissuaded or phased in the slightest. Whether this is due to being generally a bit thick-headed, or putting on a front in order not to let Tongrak feel like he's won, is too early to say.

It's also worth noting that people who have such confidence in their conviction often haven't failed before. And there's a certain naivete in that. It's the whole 'through hard work and determination I can conquer all' mentality, which is not always the case.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC

Now what really fascinates me about this collision of personalities is that these two are going to butt heads. A lot. Whether that's in a good-humoured tug of war, or a stubborn battle of wills. Tongrak is resistant in a 'I refuse to compromise' type of way. Mahasamut is persistent in a 'I refuse to let it go' type of way (like a dog with a bone). Neither wants to give in. Both are declaring, 'you're going to want me'.

So Tongrak and Mahasamut are not your typical match on paper. There will be fireworks (most likely good and bad). It'll probably take them much longer to find equal footing that goes beyond just sexual attraction or lust. This is why I've got a hunch the love scenes are going to pop off. We're going to get angry sex, I'm calling it now.

You could argue that Tongrak and Mahasamut do share some similarities with Sky and Prapai - particularly with the bickering and chasing - just dialled up to 100.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

ATMOSPHERE: The setting by the sea should prove to be a really interesting way of playing on tone. Watching those two interact whilst the wind blew around them, with the crashing of the waves in the distance was a whole mood.

CONTEXT: This feels leaps and bounds removed from the more grounded setting of Love in the Air. It almost feels like a summer fling. We're getting what appears to be a more adult backdrop, which I always greatly appreciate within the BL genre.

STYLING: Tongrak's outfits are going to murder me. The silky, drapey, billowy, low cut shirts with ample collarbone on show? CHRIST. Paired with the dainty jewellery. Kill me now.

Also, love the fact they were referring to each other as 'MISTER' and 'SIR'. Like SIR, DO YOU MIND? SIR, I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU. SOMETHING GOT YOU HOT AND BOTHERED, SIR?

[chi-kiwi]

Bl Manhwa with Yellow flag ML

1. Netkama PUNCH!!!(ongoing): One of my favourite manhwa at the moment. I love the humour and the way both the MC and the ML's feelings for each other evolve slowly throughout the story. Lots of people think ML is a red flag but if they say this they probably haven't read what I did (good for them honestly). Every time I see a bad comment about ML and how he's too obsessive and manipulative I question myself cause he's just my type: pathetic, obsessive with his crush and with no respect for personal space whatsoever. No, but for real I think lots of people don't consider that the tone of the story is clearly comic so the characters' actions and responses are exaggerated for the sake of humour (Heejae they'll never make me hate you).

2. Traces of the Sun (completed): Intriguing plot, complex characters, and an interesting setting. Definitely a good read. The ML starts kind of as a red flag as he's a bit manipulative, then falls head over heels for MC (which is always a good view), and ends up becoming a green flag. Despite the character development I still see him as a yellow flag which is the best compliment I can give to an ML. 

3. The Origin of Species (completed): Some say ML is the greenest flag ever some say he's a red flag; I can't do math but I can do colours (not really cause if you mix red and green comes out the colour of shit) and so I declare him a yellow flag. Yes at first he's an asshole but my boy was just doing his job normal gangster-ceo 9 to 5 job as one does when you're the ML in a bl. But after the first season he becomes THE BEST HUBBY. The bad thing about this manhwa is that the story can be a bit confusing but I still find it a good read as it can balance heavy plot and silly/easygoing moments. 

4. Necromancer Survival (ongoing): revenge story with a harem for MC. I loved this one so much that I'm reading the novel (which is much more intense). The MC is a cutie little hamster who doesn't believe in himself and the ML who has the ego of an average engineering male student (so pretty high) becomes obsessed with him. Honestly what I loved most about this manhwa is the revenge plot and the dynamic between all the parties involved in the revenge. 

5. The Ghost's Nocturne (ongoing): Gorgeous art style!!! sweetest MC ever, and a good plot. As for the ML, both he and the MC are breathtaking. They really are the most beautiful couple. ML is very much an asshole in the beginning but quickly falls for MC and their relationship is so intriguing to watch. One of the best manhwa at the moment.

[hyperiondickrider]

Baby Bunny~

(Chapter 5)

Vox x Reader; Valentino x Reader; Alastor x Reader; maybe Lucifer x Reader

After your untimely death, Mr Vox was kind enough to take you in and give you a job as his assistant. However, it appears that you’ve caught the eyes of few other demons, who are certainly not afraid of a little competition…

“C’mere, bunny.” Vox beckoned you over. With a crooked finger and a hazed smirk, his red eyes narrowed, his intense gaze beckoning you over, without room to decline.

Vox always looked particularly handsome off the clock. His sleeves rolled up to expose his thick forearms, his tie loosened and his shirt unbuttoned at the top. His thick hands and strong arms looked so inviting, how could you ever think of disobeying him?

Approaching tentatively, you padded over, feet bare and still clothed in silky pajamas. Looking up, you met his intense gaze slowly, pupils dilating at the sight of his expression.

“Mr Vox..? D-did I do good, sir?” Vox chuckled at your reply, grabbing your wrists to pull you closer, as you forced out a surprised yelp. He took another look at you; the gentle glow of his screen illuminated your soft face, as he dropped a claw to caress your cheeks, pinching them when he saw your embarrassment.

“Y’know dollface, I told Velvette she could use you today since work is light in my department. But, im starting to regret not keeping you all to myself. Imagine, you on my lap, my undivided attention. We could have had plenty of fun, y’know. But i guess this is still pretty good.” As he spoke, he slipped a hand under your silky button up, forcing your breath to hitch. Clawed fingers danced up your sides, massaging the flesh before finding their place on your tits.

He took a nipple between his fingers, pinching and pulling, trying to force a reaction out of you. In response, you yelped slightly at the pleasurable pain, legs shaky as you collapsed against his chest, snapping Vox out of his lustful gaze as he scooped you up, exiting the room with you cradled in his arms.

“She better have been useful, Vel. Satan knows the shit we coulda done today.” Vox called over his shoulder as he kicked open the door, taking long strides to his office.

“Cut the shit Vox, we both know she’s the prettiest one we got.” Velvette’s bored tone rang through the studio, he gaze fixed on her phone and she headed out towards her own office.

“Take it easy on her this time, yeah? I might need her again soon.”

Vox groaned at the implication, a day without your company already tedious and irritating. He certainly wouldn’t be allowing this again any time soon.

“Mr Vox?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, his gaze returning to you.

“Yes, bunny?”

“C-can we go home, soon?” Your small hands gripped his shirt, head buried in the crook of his neck, the public embarrassment clearly getting to you. Vox carrying an employee in her pajamas was certainly not a sight that was seen everyday on the VoxTek campus, and many sinners weren’t polite enough to mask their stares and glances.

Noticing your discomfort, Vox shifted you in his arms. “Of course, dollface. We can go right now.”

~

Barely had you arrived home, when Vox placed you upon his mattress, pinning your hands above your head in one hand, the other spreading your thighs to make room for him between your legs. His mouth attacked your neck, alternating between sucking dark bruises, licking them to ease the pain, and nipping at them with his canines, littering you neck with purples and reds, as he began his attack on your collarbones.

“S-sir~ p-please, haah, i w-wanna touch you, p-please.” You squirmed under his strong hold, the intense stimulation fogging your mind of any clear thought. Vox smirked against your skin, choosing to humour you and release you wrists, his hands grabbing your plush waist, lifting your hips from the heavy mattress. Your hands quickly came down to scratch at his back, his dress shirt preventing you from the skin to skin contact you so desperately craved.

Whining at him with teary eyes, Vox finally got the message, sitting back to yank of his tie and button down, the constraining feeling agitating him. He then ripped apart your silky button up, using a sharp claw to tear your bra in half down the centre, before finally leaning down again to allow you the skin contact you wished for.

The feeling of his warm, bare chest against your own made you whine, the intimacy of the act making you squirm in desperation and anticipation.

Groaning at your pleasure, Vox rutted his hips against your core, attempting to alleviate the ache in his balls, his intense arousal visible as his nails ever so slightly digged into your hips.

“Mr V-Vox, please, t-touch me..~” Your whines and pants spurred him on, Vox continuing to grind against you, the pressure on your clit feeling absolutely delicious as you bucked your hips back against him, your slick starting to seep through your soft panties.

Hastily, Vox pulled down your panties, groaning at the sight of your puffy pussy, clit throbbing and needy. Spreading your lips with two fingers, he watching in fascination as your hole pulsed and clenched around nothing, in carnal desire.

“So wet f’me, princess. What’s gotcha all worked up, huh?”

You whined at his teasing, making grabby hands at him, wanting his attention, and his cock.

“N-need you, hah~, sir.. P-please, f-fuck me..”

With a thick gulp, Vox undid his belt and slacks, pulling his rock hard cock out of his boxers, a wet patch visible from his precum. He squeezed himslef harshly, hissing at tbe contact, giving it a few pumps before lining up his angry, red tip with your entrance.

Collecting your slick with his tip, he prodded your clit gently a few times before finally pushing in, sinking into your heat with a deep moan. Your blunt fingernails scratching at his shoulders, digging into his firm muscle and flesh, as he began thrusting into you, his pace steadily increasing, the friction against your gummy walls driving you crazy, his swollen tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

You could feel the coil in your tummy growing, tears of pleasure flooding your eyes and his cock jammed against that gummy spot in your walls, pussy gushing around his length. You could tell Vox was close as well, his breathing laboured and his thrusts uneven.

With a final groan in your ear, Vox buried himself in your warmth, hitting that spongy spot and one hand crept around to grab at your cotton tail, yanking on it and squeezing it, as he came deep inside you, painting your walls white with his cream.

The sensation of being filled, with the intense stimulation of your sensitive fluff being tugged on was enough for the coil in your tummy to snap, cumming all over Vox’s cock, pussy clenching harshly as your legs shook and your floppy ears twitched, body seizing up before going limp.

You struggled to stay concious as Vox pulled out with a tired groan, your cum and his streaming out of your swollen, abused pussy, coating your thighs and the sheets beneath you.

Vox chuckled at your sleepy expression, laying you down gently as he wiped you legs clean of cum.

The last thing you could remember was a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead, and a

“good night, baby bunny.”

A/N: why is writing smut so tiring?????

Tags: @enby-rising @whocaresimnothere @christineblood @sirenetheblogger @vash-yuu

[theninthdoor]

OMG SO YOURE BACK. crying. Can you please do a reading on what attracts the ATEEZ members first in a person?

how is this my first ateez reading?? 😭💗 i'm so sorry

Seonghwa || two of swords: Calmness; silence. Cold beauty. When someone really makes you work hard to get more than three words out of them at once. Indifference.

Hongjoong || ten of cups: Extroversion. People who smile from ear to ear; pretty smiles. Individuals who make everyone feel welcome, no matter how long you've known them for. Warmth.

Yunho || nine of swords: He may like it when someone looks very, very shy; maybe even a little awkward. Yunho likes to feel as if they need him to protect them or pull them out of their shell.

Yeosang || king of wands: Confidence!; assertiveness; magnetism; powerful voices + personalities; toned bodies. Individuals who are clearly very sure of themselves, and aren't afraid of being in the spotlight, specially in front of crowds or groups of people.

San || seven of wands rx: San may really enjoy seeing someone who's both confident in themselves but also humble enough to admit their flaws/faults/or that they could be wrong in their opinions or decisions. On top of that, people who make you feel like you can let your guard down and be your true imperfect self. People who are easy to reach and relate to.

Mingi || four of swords: Low energy individuals. Quiet and calm personalities; introverts. Soft speakers. Those who make you feel relaxed just by being in their presence. Soft and sleepy eyes; long eyelashes.

Wooyoung || three of cups: Sociable and fun-loving personalities. Plus, when someone just seems to know or be friends with everybody around. The life of the party. Laughter.

Jongho || four of wands: Cheerful, good-humoured people. He may feel attracted to someone whose love language is physical touch, or even someone who just really enjoys giving hugs. Also, those who have a very homely, warm and inviting energy.

[maxsimagination]

𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗴𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗜𝗜 - 𝗺.𝗹𝗲𝗼𝗻

summary: yn has just moved to barcelona, and picked up an admirer while she’s there.

• part 1 • part 2

-> i apologise if any of the translations are wrong

𖦹 masterlist

𝗜𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗔 week of training, a week of getting to know mapi. we had exchanged numbers after she'd offered to take me out and show me the highlights of barcelona. we had decided on today, hence why i was up at 6 in the morning.

i didn't know where we were planning on going, mapi said she wanted to surprise me. my phone pings with a text from her saying she was out the front. i grabbed my things and headed down, excited for what she had planned.

"hola, i hope your excited." i was grinning when i hopped into her car. "of course i'm excited, the mapi leon is taking me to see barcelona." she laughed at my humour and we drove out of my street to where ever mapi had planned. barcelona was a beautiful city, the sun was rising and the colours were thrown through the sky like a painting.

even though i didn't know where we were going, my head was still out of the window most of the time, enjoying the beauty of barcelona. it took just under an hour but mapi had driven us into the heart of barcelona, to the arco de triunfo. i was in awe, i had never seen anything like it.

i took a couple of pictures of it, before mapi took one of me with it, then i asked someone walking past if they could take one of me and mapi. i thanked them when they had and mapi tugged my hand back to walk to the car and show me to our next place.

we had drove past castell dels tres dragons, and i managed to get a picture of it, then mapi pulled up to museo picasso. it was a beautiful art gallery, over 4,000 pieces were on display.

we walked through the building, admiring the artwork, although i was pretty sure that mapi's eyes were on me the whole time. after that we went to three other locations; mural del beso, muralla romana and el cap de barcelona. finally, to end our day out we stopped off at a sushi place.

"this is amazing, thank you so much mapi." i thanked the woman profusely, she had shown me the most amazing places, my camera roll was full. "no problem, yn." we sat together eating our sushi, when i had a thought. "is your real name mapi? or is it a nickname?"

i knew her as mapi, but i swear ingrid had told me her full name before. "my full name is maria pilar león cebrián." she had a shy look on her face and i smiled gently at her admission. "that's a beautiful name." we spent the last bit of our time speaking together before we had to drive back home. another hour later we arrived at my apartment and i had to get out.

"thankyou again for today. i really enjoyed it." i pushed my luck a bit and leant forward to press a kiss to her cheek before hopping out of the car. i looked back to see mapi, stunned in the drivers seat and blushing. "adiós, yn." (bye, yn.)

——

it was training day today. i groaned when that thought came to mind, i wanted it to be yesterday so i could see all of the landmarks mapi showed me again. ingrid was picking me up again this morning so i waited for her 'i'm here' text before i grabbed my stuff and went outside. when i got into the car she immediately asked about yesterday.

"how was it?" "it was incredible. she showed me the most amazing places and took me for sushi at the end." i rambled on about how much i enjoyed the day with mapi. ingrid was smiling while listening to me go on about it. "you really like mapi, don't you?" she asked with a knowing tone.

i had to pause for a second to let it register. all my feelings ran through my mind as i took my time. "i think, yea, i do." clearly ingrid wasn't expecting that answer from me as she whipped back to me. "wait really?" "yea." a growing smile turned into a giant grin on ingrid as she drove. "oh my god, you have to tell her! she definitely has a thing for you."

"she does not! she was probably just being nice yesterday." i knew i was kidding myself, i had pecked her on the cheek yesterday and she was blushing. if she was just being nice she wouldn't react like that. but my humility stood in the way of that thought.

we finally got to camp nou and both walked in together. everyone was in the cafeteria so we went to join them. mapi, aitana, patri, alexia and marta were all at a table together. ingrid beat me to the seats and chose to sit next to alexia, which left me to sit with mapi. i knew she did that on purpose.

we all started talking and continued for a bit before i got hungry and went to get some food. i was gone for about ten minutes, there was a line, and unbeknownst to me ingrid had started talking with mapi.

when i came back, they didn't realise i could hear them and i caught the last bit of the conversation. "... me gusta mucho yn." (i really like yn.) i stopped where i was, not wanting to interrupt what she was saying. but ingrid spotted me and beckoned me over, which caught mapi off guard and she stopped talking.

i walked back over and sat down next to mapi, trying my hardest not to act awkward. i think ingrid knew that i had heard and could understand what mapi had said and she nodded at me, trying to get me to talk to her. i have in and told myself 'fuck it, why not'.

i leant towards mapi and whispered in her ear, "a mí también me gustas mucho maría." i could see her tense up when i said that, she didn't know that i knew spanish fluently. "¿de veras?" (really?) she questioned me. "sí." (yes.) i nodded. she grinned at my confirmation and grabbed my hand to lead me away from the table and out to the hall.

"you're telling me that you knew spainish this whole time?" i laughed.

"yes, it was ingrid's idea."

mapi just laughed at that.

"of course it was. well in that case, ¿quieres ser mi novia?" (will you be my girlfriend?)

i grinned at her.

"absolutamente, maría." (absolutely, maría.)

[luveline]

WOULD LOOOVE to see badass reader get jealous over someone flirting with spencer

ty for requesting ♡ —spencer reassures you when he catches the eye of a receptionist at the ocean city precinct. fem!reader, 1.3k

Hotch lives on coffee lately. Any type from any source, he doesn't care what it tastes like so long as it keeps him awake. You're similar, in that even if you hated it, you'd keep it to yourself. 

But you're frowning in disgust at your cup. Eyebrows wrinkled, lips in a fierce line. Hotch sighs and puts his hand on the back of your chair. "Are you alright?" he asks. 

You've never told him otherwise. "Fine. Thank you." 

"There's water in my bag," he offers. You won't meet his eyes. You probably have a headache. "And aspirin." 

For as long as he's known you and worked with you, you've been as you are now, quiet, stern, with little sense of humour at work and not much more outside of it. The only evidence of your soft heart is how you work like a dog, and how you treat your coworker, Spencer. He's your achilles heel, your tender spot in all the tough scarring. Hotch knows there's nothing anyone can do to make you feel better if they aren't him. 

Hotch turns on the spot to look for him. The case you're working on here in Maryland has hit a lul, and exhausted faces peek out from behind their desks at Hotch's looking. He searches for the short mop of brown hair that's required and finds it in an unusual place. 

Spencer has been waylaid by a receptionist. Glimmering eyes, shiny silver fingernails that tap the desk in front of her as she speaks, the receptionist clearly has Spencer hanging on. He takes a step back and she doubles down, her storytelling audible from across the room. 

"You'll have to see it for yourself, Dr. Reid, it's a sight!" 

Hotch looks at you from the corner of his eye. "I see." 

"Don't know what you're talking about," you mutter. You stand and tip your coffee into the bin, letting the cup fall in after it morosely. 

"Why don't you go and help Reid?" Hotch asks. 

"Help Reid what?" you ask. Your tone betrays you —jealousy, sure, that slight crisp to your words that must hurt on the way out, but worse is the weakness as your sentence ends. You're jealous, and it's upsetting you. "I don't think I want to help him with that." 

Derek swings into the sequestered space you've been using to operate and beams at you like he knows exactly what you're thinking. 

"Isn't it surprising how quiet he can be? Years of catching bad guys and he can't say no to a pretty woman," Derek says, giving you a knowing look.

You and Derek have a half-hearted rivalry in that he loves to flirt and you disapprove. Your soft spot extends solely to Spencer no matter how hard Derek tries to sway you, though as you and Spencer have gotten closer, you've softened.

Hotch thinks that Derek's teasing might erase any progress that's been made. 

"Morgan," he says reproachfully. 

Derek makes a who, me? face but quickly gives in. "Why don't you go save him?" he asks you. 

"He doesn't need saving. Spencer is a grown man who can make his own choices," you say quietly. 

Hotch bites his tongue. Thankfully, Derek speaks up, without any teasing. "Spencer's been expected to  know how to do things without any help since he was a kid. I really think he just doesn't know how to walk away." 

You look down at your hands. Hotch has been doing his job for a long time, and he can guess what you're thinking from a misaligned finger. You don't feel like you measure up to the woman at reception. You're insecure about Spencer's affection for you, because you can't understand why he likes you so much to begin with. Hotch has thought it about Haley, Derek of Savannah. It's a very human doubt.

"Spencer tends to stand straight," Hotch says, bringing the lip of his paper cup up. "Right now, he's leaning away." 

It's in as simple terms as he can put it without outright telling you that he really, truly believes that Spencer wouldn't bother with anyone who isn't you. That Spencer loves you in the young, all encompassing way, even though neither of you seems to have realised the depth of it yet. 

Confident, no air of the girl frowning down at her hands, you leave the nook to approach Spencer from behind. 

"Hi," Hotch hears you say, "you okay?" 

Spencer visibly relaxes. "Hey, I'm fine. Uh, Y/N, this is Anabelle. Annabelle, this is my partner, Y/N." 

"Partner?" Derek asks. 

It's news to Hotch. Perhaps news to you, if the way you take his hand is any hint. It's like you've never held it before, and Hotch knows you have, he's seen you linking pinkies under tables. 

You strangle his fingers with yours. Spencer doesn't move an inch.

"She was just telling me about the sightseeing you can do here. Have you ever seen the world's longest worm on a string?" he asks you. 

"Hi, Annabelle," you say, turning to Spencer with poorly masked whiplash. "We're gonna try narrowing the search radius." 

"Oh, right." Spencer lets go of your hand in favour of putting a hand behind your shoulder, saying his thank yous and goodbyes to Annabelle before guiding you back to the makeshift BAU base camp. "What took you so long?" 

"What took me so long?" you ask.

"I thought you liked me!" Spencer says, teasing, his voice pitching higher. "I didn't know how to tell her I've already read the pamphlet she was quoting. She seemed nice though, right?" 

"She seemed nice, Spence," you agree, a little wobbly still but a thousand times less sullen than before. "I– of course I like you, you know I like you. Right?" 

Hotch is proud of Spencer for how remarkably he responds. Spencer puts his body between you and Hotch and Derek where they're standing to offer you the privacy you prefer, dropping his voice to match your tentativeness. "Yeah, I know. I was kidding. I think they'd have to reassess my position on this team if I didn't know that." He grabs your arm, thumb pressing into the crook of your elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I thought maybe she was flirting with you." 

Spencer shrugs uneasily. "Maybe. It wouldn't make a difference to me. Do you know that?" 

Your head dips down. Hotch can't hear what you say, honestly, he doesn't want to know. Eavesdropping on the people he cares about in their unhappy moments isn't something he makes a habit of, but it's hard not to hear Spencer's response. "Don't say that," he murmurs. "That's not true… We'll talk about it later, okay?"

You clear your throat. "Yeah. Whatever you want."

Derek doesn't hide that he's been listening very well, pulling a crime scene document up to his eye line as you and Spencer pull apart. Your eyebrows furrow into a glare, but it's Spencer who says, "What?" 

Hotch bites back a smile. Derek grins and holds his hands up in surrender. 

"Just nice to see you taking care of my favourite girl," he smarms.

"Stop. You're extremely unprofessional," Spencer says, helping you into your seat unnecessarily.

"And you're not?" Derek asks, gesturing to his hand where it lingers behind your shoulders. 

You finally chip in, apparently back to your regular self. "Only one of us was responsible for a unit wide HR mandate about inappropriate behaviour." 

"You cannot keep bringing that up." 

"Why not?" 

Hotch takes a sip of his tepid coffee. He'd rather not get involved. 

[wehangout]

Jen, how would you feel about 47? 😁

Send me a number and I’ll write a gallavich kiss 👄

Thank you, Evie!

47. - - out of spite

"Morning," you say, watching Mickey - who looks adorably fucking sleepy even if you'll never say it to his face - shuffle down the stairs and into the kitchen. You meet him next to the table and plant a quick kiss to his lips. "Feeling better?"

He mumbles something about it being just a cold, but leans heavily into you. You press another kiss to the top of his head, maybe, kind of, a little bit breathing in the scent of him.

"Coffee?" you ask, one last, quick kiss to his temple before pulling back. He nods and moves to sit opposite Carl and Liam at the table while you pour him a cup.

"I want some coffee," Carl says when you bring Mickey's cup over.

"Then get up and get it," you tell him. You hand Mickey his cup with a smile and another kiss to his hair. "I gotta get to work. You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Gallagher. It's a fuckin' cold."

You sit next to him and rest the back of your hand against his forehead. "Not warm."

"Because it's a cold," he says, picking up his coffee mug and chugging it down quickly. "I'm fine."

You hold his free hand in your own, bring it to your lips and kiss his knuckles. "You sure?" You press his hand to your face and place a kiss in his palm. "Because I can call in sick."

"Gallagher." His tone is all exasperation, but his eyes are soft. "I'm okay."

"Fine." You lean in and kiss his cheek before getting up and filling your travel mug. "Can I at least make you some breakfast before I go?"

"No," he says, and you can practically see his eye roll through the back of his head. He gets up and meets you in the kitchen, refills his coffee. "Go to work."

You pull him into a hug. "Fine. But I'm calling on my lunch break."

"Uh-huh."

You smooth a hand down his back and kiss his shoulder. Pull back to look at him, concerned but sure he'd tell you if he needed you. You lean in and press another kiss to his forehead, your sweet gesture interrupted by Carl's snort of laughter from the table.

"That's nine," he says.

You and Mickey both turn to look at him.

"The fuck're you talkin' about?" Mickey asks.

"Ian's kissed you nine times in the minute-and-a-half you've been downstairs."

Mickey's snort matches Carls. "Sounds about right."

"What?" You look between the three of them. "No I fucking haven't."

"You did," Liam says. "We were counting."

"Why the fuck were you counting?" Mickey asks, leaning back against the sink.

"Yeah, why were you counting?"

Carl smirks. "Because it's the same fucking thing every morning."

"Literally every morning," Liam agrees.

"So today we decided to keep track."

"Losers," Mickey says into his coffee cup.

"Ian's the one who can't keep his lips to himself," Carl says.

You look between the three of them, arms over your chest. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Not bad," Liam says.

"Just lame," Carl continues.

You look at Mickey. "Do you think it's lame?"

"'Course not," he says. "I know you can't help yourself."

You scoff. "Fuck you, I can help myself."

"Sure you can, stud."

"You're not irresistible, Mickey."

"No, but you're a kisser." He shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip of coffee, but you're pretty sure his smug smirk stays in place the entire time. "Always have been."

You look at the three of them again, scowling at their knowing looks, and reach for your bag.

"Whatever. I don't need to kiss you, Mickey."

"Uh-huh."

"Fuck you, I don't." You turn to your brothers. "Pay attention tomorrow, assholes. I won't kiss him once."

"Sure you won't," Mickey agrees, clearly humouring you.

"How about you don't kiss him now?" Carl says. "No kiss goodbye."

"Whatever. It's nothing. Fuck you all, I'm going to work."

Bag on your back, you leave the kitchen, and ignore their chuckles. You pause at the door to get your boots on. Reach for the handle. Stop.

"Fuck."

You storm back into the kitchen, finding Mickey exactly where you left him, leaning against the sink. One eyebrow shoots up at the sight of you because he fucking knows and fuck him for that.

You grasp his head in your hands and press a quick, bruising kiss to his lips, ignoring the laughter from the table and relishing in the sharp inhale through his nose. You let him go and step back, narrowing your eyes at all three of them.

"That was not a kiss goodbye. That was because you said I'd kissed him nine times and you can't just leave something at nine. It has to be an even number or a multiple of five. Everyone fucking knows that."

Silence.

And then.

"Sure, Gallagher. You keep tellin' yourself that."

You leave without another word, flipping them all off over your shoulder.

[supagogoman]

My thoughts on Shadow Generations

I played Shadow Generations. Here are my thoughts about it.

tl;dr it's amazing

Before it was released I was already expecting to enjoy Shadow Generations. It was, after all, a follow up to Sonic Generations, one of my favourite Sonic games, so more of that sounded good to me.

Of course, I'd been burned by this before; Sonic Forces also promised to be 'more Generations' and that game ended up being pretty mediocre. Still, things were clearly different this time. One of those differences was the huge focus on our antihero - Shadow the Hedgehog.

Before I go on, I should preface by admitting that I never liked Shadow the Hedgehog. I wasn't a big fan of Sonic Adventure 2, the game he debuted in, and was of the opinion that he should have stayed dead at the end of that game instead of being bought back for Heroes. He was a fine character in SA2, but the Shadow the Hedgehog game released in 2005, with it's dark, edgy writing, made Shadow a huge joke to me. I'm surprised anyone could take that character seriously after they thought it was a good idea to give a cartoon hedgehog realistic guns. His backstory seemed like the progenitor for those terrible deviantart era OC fan characters. He became a meme for years because of SEGA's seeming lack of self awareness. This edginess continued somewhat in Sonic 06, but after the disasterous result of that game it seems like SEGA tried to course correct, and since then Sonic became much more lighthearted in tone and they became much more self aware.

Perhaps they course corrected too much, as the self-awareness almost went a little too far - at the time, I remember thinking Sonic Colours' writing and simplicity was refreshing, but it seems these days people complain about the jokes and humour in that game, and the kids began to yearn for the wacky shonen anime plots of the earlier games. I didn't entirely agree with this sentinent (I was always worried about what would happen if Sonic went back to it's EDGY phase again), but in the end I didn't care how terrible the story was so long as the gameplay was FUN. I still hold Sonic Colours in high regard, but not because of it's plot, it's because it was one of the few Sonic games that didn't make me want to kill myself (which are surprisingly rare in the entire series).

Frontiers marked an apparent shift to direct the story back to taking itself more seriously, and this trend has continued in Shadow Generations. Actually, I guess Forces also tried to do this, but Frontiers clearly had more competent writers (namely Ian Flynn) at the helm. Compared to it's companion game, Shadow Gens is darker in tone, and way more serious and dramatic. Unlike Sonic Gens, which is a celebration of Sonic's past games and history, Shadow Gens is a story that basically acts as a sequel to the Shadow 2005 game, exploring the tragic backstory of Shadow and his relationship with Maria, Gerald and Black Doom.

From what I wrote earlier you might think that this return to it's edgy roots might be something I was opposed to, and I did have some reservations initially, but it has actually been executed incredibly well. It's dramatic, but not overly edgy. It's darker, but not devoid of personality or charm. They walked a fine balance of making Shadow a more serious character with additional nuance to avoid making him seem like a joke (competent writing and not giving him guns probably helped a lot with this). The game's story, as well as the Dark Beginnings animated short, actually made me like Shadow the Hedgehog as a character for the first time ever. That being said, Shadow has the luxury of being pretty much the only character in the series that has a dark, tragic backstory to flesh out. Sonic couldn't have a story like this because his backstory amounts to being a way past cool dude who like to go fast, and I can't see them doing something like this with any other character (as funny as a stand alone Chaotix game exploring their financial problems sounds) There's nothing wrong with that, but what I'm getting at is I'm hoping whatever the story of the next game is will show restraint and be of an appropriate tone.

Anyway, I have discussed at great lengths about the story. I just thought it was interesting as someone who wasn't a fan of Shadow that it would win me over. I think that speaks to how well it was written Taking plot points from shitty games and working them into something more palatable to me. Even so, none of that would have mattered if the game sucked. As I mentioned earlier, I liked Sonic Colours not for it's story, but for it's gameplay. Shadow 05 has a shitty plot, but I could forgive it if the gameplay was good (it wasn't). So if Shadow Generations was a game that sucked then having a good story wasn't going to save it.

Thankfully, not only is this a great companion to Sonic Generations, but in my view this is one of the best 3D Sonic games ever made. When I played Sonic Frontiers, I wrote how it was a good foundation for what the next Sonic game should be. Although I enjoyed traversing the open zones, I suggested that they could be downscaled, and have more effort be put into more traditional Sonic stages rather than bite sized Cyberspace missions. Shadow Generations does exactly that - it's hub world, rather than being a glorified level select as it was on Sonic Generations, is now expanded to be it's own mini open zone, filled with rails, springs, ramps and many collectables that make traversing and exploring the hub fun. It feels a more polished too - the pop in isn't particularly noticable unlike Sonic Frontiers, and though the scale isn't as impressive as Frontiers it more than makes up for that with it's main stages - each with 2 acts and several mini challenge missions. These are exactly what was missing from Frontiers - gone are the repeated themes and assets seen in the Cyberspace missions, and back are the intricately designed stages with plenty of alternate paths with cool set pieces and spectacles that are fun to experience over and over.

Also contributing to my enjoyment of the game are the controls. I already commended Frontiers for having pretty tight controls for Sonic, and these have only been refined further in Shadow Gens. Shadow just feels incredibly easy to control and being able to pull off those reactions and jumps needed to access those alt paths in the stages feels great. It also does away with the overly complex combat system, there are no crazy dodges, parries or combo moves to do, but Shadow does have his Doom Spear and launcher that mixes things up and ties into level traversal too.

In fact, it kind of makes Sonic Generations feel clunky in comparison. The original game has been 'remastered', but very little has changed, besides some rewritten dialogue and some hidden Chao to find in each level. Graphically it looks exactly the same, and the controls remain untouched. This is fine, the game was and still looks and plays great, but Sonic compared to Shadow feels a lot stiffer to control. The way Sonic handles has been refined in the years through Forces and Frontiers, so going back to a game from 11 years ago, packaged with a brand new game, unfortunately makes inevitable comparisons, and playing the two games back to back definitely takes some getting used to.

My main complaint about Shadow Generations is that there just isn't enough of it. Not that it was a short game, it's length is pretty comparable to Sonic Generations and I can see myself replaying more in the future, plus the hub world exploration certainly adds a lot to the experience. I also understand this is a smaller project, designed to be a companion to Sonic Generations and was clearly made to capitalize on the release of the Sonic 3 Movie, but part of me was hoping for something a little more comparible to the 9 levels Sonic Generations has, while Shadow Gens has just 5.

Supposedly Sonic Team are still working on their next game - possibly a follow up to Frontiers. I can only hope that they take the lessons they've learned and build upon them. They already have the framework of additional characters, introduced in the Final Horizons update for Frontiers. They could design a more intricately designed hub world in a similar scope to Shadow Generations, interconnecting fun, tightly designed traditional stages. There's a lot of potential here for the next game, and my hopes for the series haven't been this high since... well... since when Sonic Generations came out, I suppose...

[lackadaisicallizard]

The first time it happens is in the hallway outside James’ potions classroom. He’s leaning on the wall, waiting for Sirius to finish talking to Slughorn about some concoction he made that apparently ‘wasn’t the instructions’ and ‘caused a minor natural disaster’ when Regulus appears in front of him.

“I’d ask why you’re lurking around in hallways when everyone else is eating lunch, but I fear knowing that answer might make me an accomplice.” His eyebrows are raised.

James blinks at him. “Hello to you too, Regulus. Bold of you to ask me that question when you’re also ‘lurking around’ during lunch.”

“I actually need to talk to Professor Slughorn about something academic. Maybe you’ve heard the word before?”

James rolls his eyes and shakes his head, choosing not to respond and instead pulls a small tube of lip balm from his pocket, applying it to his lips that have been dry all day due to the increasingly cold weather. He notices Regulus looking at him with a small smirk. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s strawberry flavoured.”

“Of course it is.”

“Do you have a problem with me wanting to keep my lips moisturised?”

“Why on earth would I have a problem with that?”

James throws his hands up. “Well I don’t know, but you’re very clearly judging me when I’m literally just standing in a cold hallway.”

Regulus huffs out a laugh. “I’m not judging you for your strawberry flavoured lip balm, Potter.”

“You are, though!”

“Well it appears I’ve touched a nerve here for some reason.”

“And I suppose your lips are always perfectly soft entirely of their own accord?” James mutters, sounding far too much like a petulant child than he has any right to.

Regulus is still smirking, a glint in his sharp, grey eyes. “Do you always get this riled up over beauty products?”

“I do when I’m being judged for no reason.”

“Again, I’m not judging you.”

“You haven’t even tried it.”

“What?”

“The lip balm. Maybe if you tried it you’d realise you don’t have to walk around with cracked lips because you’re afraid of a little ‘product’”

“I’m not afraid of the lip balm, Potter.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

“Are you always this annoying?” Regulus has dropped the smirk, but his tone still has a hint of humour in it.

“Pretty much, yes.”

“It’s all making sense now.”

James frowns. “What is?”

“The company my brother chooses to keep.”

“Coming from a boy with an aversion to strawberry flavoured lip-balm.”

“You’re sounding a bit like a broken record now.”

“I’m just saying, you have a lot of opinions for someone who hasn’t even tried it-”

“Fine, I’ll try your sodding lip balm.” Regulus says one second, and then the next second he steps in close to James, pulls him down to his level by his tie, and presses their lips together.

It turns out Regulus’ lips are naturally soft.

James finds that as he starts to lean into the entirely unexpected kiss, suddenly it’s over.

Regulus straightens back up and rubs his lips together. “Well I stand corrected, Potter. The lip balm isn’t half bad. Maybe I’ll start using it after all.”

Regulus is looking at him with a slight smile and James finds that he’s lost the ability to speak.

What the fuck just happened?

It’s then that Sirius emerges from the classroom. “So apparently I have detention, which is complete bullshit. We only had to evacuate the room for like ten minutes!” They stop as they see Regulus. “Oh hey, Reggie. What are you doing here?”

Sirius is the only one who can get away with calling Regulus Reggie. James has learned that the hard way.

“Oh it’s a bit cold and I needed to borrow some lip balm.”

Sirius screws up his face in confusion. “What, from me? I don’t have any right now.”

Regulus is smirking again. “That’s okay, Potter helped me out.”

Sirius looks from Regulus to James, taking in his best friend’s stunned expression with a frown. “Well that’s… good?”

Regulus looks at James. His stomach feels weird. “Yes,” Regulus says slowly, “it wasn’t bad at all.”

They maintain eye-contact for a moment. The weird feeling in his stomach is accompanied by a fluttering in his chest. He can’t explain either of them right now, especially with the sharp grey working to unravel James’ thoughts.

“Anyway, I’d better get to Professor Slughorn. He could probably use an intelligent conversation for once.”

Sirius scoffs. “And you think he’s going to get that from you? You’ve got some grand delusions, little brother.”

“Great comeback, Sirius. You really cut me there,” he deadpans.

“See you later, Reggie. Love you.”

Regulus shakes his head before moving towards the door. Sirius stops him with a sharp “Ah.”

Regulus sighs. “Love you too.”

Sirius grins and ruffles his hair as he walks past. Regulus mutters something about a hex before disappearing into the classroom.

Sirius turns to look at James. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we’re on such good terms now, but fuck if he isn’t an annoying little shit.”

“Mhmm.” James’ brain is still whirring, unable to catch up with what happened not two minutes ago. Namely, the part where Regulus kissed him. It was a kiss, right? He isn’t missing some new social norm where sharing lip balm through mouth-to-mouth contact is totally expected, is he?

He’s pretty sure it’s not.

Later on that evening, in their dorm room, James turns to Peter, who’s leafing through a magazine. “Pete?”

“Mm?”

“Could I borrow some lip balm?”

Peter looks up from his page with a frown. “Don’t you have like, five different kinds?”

“I er- I lost them.”

He looks at James with clear suspicion but apparently decides not to push it, getting off his bed to rifle through his stuff, eventually pulling out a small tin of Vaseline and throwing it across the room onto James’ bed wordlessly.

“Thanks,” James says.

Now that’s a normal way to share lip balm. Not a single kiss in sight.

Regulus was definitely acting strange then. What James doesn’t know is why.

He also doesn’t know why he can’t stop thinking about it.

[ingravinoveritas]

Hi! :) So, about posting habits and copying:

Georgia posts this screenshot of someone asking her to tell David that they're in love with him/want to marry him (not sure anymore, but I'm counting on you to remember haha), responding yeah, I'll get right to that, or something akin to that.

It's funny enough and her reply doesn't come across as anything more than humorous, in my opinion, especially since we've seen this theme for years, on Twitter and Instagram. It's on-brand-Georgia.

Her tone, albeit the sarcasm, is still pretty nice, playing the ball back by pretending that she's not telling David because then she'd have to compete with the person who wrote in. I'm sure whoever texted her this was giggling at their phone when Georgia responded. I'm not sure if the same thing will be the case with fan interaction number two, however: Cue, Anna.

Because now, a few days later, Anna posts what is pretty much the same interaction with a fan (about Michael, obv.), but all the charme is gone? Or is that just me?

Let's get something straight, though: The fan message she got was a lot less "sweet" than the one Georgia received (how many kisses does it take for a message to become either passive aggressive or just too hyper or even kind of insincere in tone?), so I won't be too harsh on her for responding in kind (xxxx). Still, had me cringe a little.

Thing is, the more or less blatant copying of Georgia's social media voice keeps fascinating me. Whilst, at most times, it's obvious but still fine as its own thing, this time the whole post really just seemed too...Georgia. Firstly, because it really is like a total replica, secondly because Georgia has worn the "playfully possessive"-badge for years now. I'm not saying that Anna is just pretending to also be that, I genuinely don't think that's true, at least not fully, but what I am saying is that she's clearly aware of this sort of humour being well-received within the fandom and also very intentional about timing. It's always... funny? Noticable? exactly when these "replica posts" appear.

Although, in this case we also have to consider that she responded at the time she got the message (or a day later, at most), so the timing isn't really on her. In fact, this might just be a fan actively going for having the same interaction with Anna that another fan had with Georgia, basically setting her up. Especially considering how the DM was worded - again, it seemed a little too intentional/over the top.

(But yeah, a couple of hours earlier: The Tennant's face sitting post (and, whew lol), so is this trying to somehow keep up with their dynamic again?)

I want to stress that I don't think that any of this is a bad thing. There's literally no harm in her trying to cater to the fandom with this tone of voice and seeming a bit unoriginal. And what do we know, maybe she and Georgia really are that similiar, it's not like Georgia's humour and interactions are that singular. But I'm still having a different response to Georgia's posts in comparison to Anna's, even though they are so similiar, and that's what it comes down to.

Maybe that's completely unfair towards Anna (to some degrees it must be, since Georgia simply has been around longer and therefore claimed her kind of tone, if that's even a thing), but maybe it also comes down to authenticity - or a lack thereoff?

(Grouping these together since they are related.) Well, I hadn't seen AL's story this morning until I got your message @wanderingsemi, so thank you for the heads up. And it is, as you said, an almost exact replica of an Insta story Georgia posted a week ago. Let's get the visual up here, so folks can see both stories:

So, the first thing I will say is that I often have difficulty with discerning people's tones online, as the lack of vocal inflection/other indicators tends to make things challenging. I appreciate you sharing that Georgia's tone came across as humorous to you, because while I definitely did get the sarcasm, I also felt a sense of contempt coming from Georgia's reply, too. I do agree, however, that her response was very much "her," in her trademark style, and is something we've come to expect over the last few years now.

It's probably worth mentioning that these are both odd/weird things to send to your fave's partners. I know social media has largely eroded a sense of boundaries in a lot of fans, but it's just an awkward thing to say overall. (I submit that it's actually more awkward/inappropriate than RPF, because RPF is fantasy and is not something any of these people would come into direct contact with unless they went looking for it.) That being said, while neither Georgia nor AL can control the things fans send to them, they can choose to respond (or not) to said comments. So thinking about your Ask, @armangelus, we have Georgia here essentially doing the same thing as AL--being possessive of David in response to a random DM--yet the results are wildly different.

Which then brings me to AL's response. Going back to our discussion on tone, I am not sure that I interpreted the message AL got as being "less sweet" than the one Georgia received, as they seem incredibly similar to me. I'm not sure the message-sender was actually being passive-aggressive, but because AL seemed to look at it that way, it is then reflected in her response (and is fitting with her past responses/personality, which has been passive-aggressive on multiple occasions).

For a little backstory (and this largely comes from @problematicwelshman, whose blog is well worth reading for a lot of tea related to Michael and AL going back to 2019): AL's social media was entirely scrubbed when her and Michael's relationship first came to light (end of June 2019). This also coincided with Michael's longtime PR person quitting, and a seeming overhaul of AL's social media presence. Initially, though, a lot of her posts were in her own voice, but they did not seem to go over well/she was not connecting with the fandom (see this post for links to examples, most of which involve belittling Michael/making fun of his weight and appearance).

Then in mid-2021, this all shifted with an event Michael appeared at for the 150th birthday of the Royal Albert Hall. Suddenly AL was praising and complimenting him in ways she never had in any of her past posts. This also happened to coincide with Georgia starting the #Shebergs hashtag (which sounds like an iceberg, a.k.a. the thing that took down the Titanic, so I'm still not sure why that was chosen as a portmanteau of AL and Michael's names), as well as AL promoting Last Train to Christmas, a movie of Michael's that she appeared in that was released at the end of 2021. So this was another social media overhaul/PR effort, seemingly perfectly timed with AL having something to promote and trying to advance her acting career.

But what this was also the start of is what you alluded to, which is that inauthenticity. I can completely understand you having a different reaction to AL's story than Georgia's, because as you said, that charm is not there, which I think is because it's Georgia's charm, not Anna's. And as much as she might copy Georgia's tone or the types of content she posts, you can't really copy charm--it's either something you have, or something you don't. I think it also ties into the other thing you referenced, which is the "playfully possessive" thing. It actually is something that Anna has copied, also on multiple occasions (see below)...but much like with this story, it doesn't come across the same way as when Georgia does it:

(Another notable thing about the response on the left is that AL was not even tagged in the original tweet, which also copies Georgia's pattern of randomly replying to fans on Twitter--usually as a result of searching David's name, which she has been known to do.)

So yes, I think we can definitely see a clear pattern here, which has seemingly only become more blatant as of late. And while I agree there is no harm on one level of trying to appeal to the fandom, I don't think it's unfair to AL at all because there is such a clear, agenda to what she is doing that becomes more obvious as you look back over the past few years. That, in my opinion, is what makes it seem so forced and not genuine, and is why one might feel a different reaction to her post versus Georgia's.

Those are pretty much my thoughts, rambling as they were. I appreciate both of you sharing yours as well so that we could have this discussion. Thanks for writing in! x