#also im now thinking of the fact i have no idea what my mutuals voices sound like and i will be

[coldresolve]

yeah, nah, fuck it. im sharing this post and then i'm just gonna link to it whenever it becomes relevant.

every disagreement i have with yall always comes back to me phrasing things in a way that sounds mean. always, always. like duh, i dont try to sugarcoat how i see things, i have realized that, in fact i do it on purpose. why? well.

i come from a culture where it's often interpreted as deceitful and/or shallow to sandwich your point in with superficial courtesy. if you spend too much time packing your point in with whatever you think will make it easier to swallow, people will start to feel like you're infantalizing them, or straight up wasting their time. being direct and honest from the get-go is seen as a sign of respect - yes, even if what you're saying could easily be interpreted as rude. say what you think, say exactly how you feel, and we'll take it from there. that kinda thing.

when i say an opinion or criticise something on here, i am treating you, the reader, like someone who is smart enough to understand the gist of my argument without being bogged down by its delivery, mature enough to recognize the difference between criticism of your work (or general trends) and criticism of you as a person, and emotionally well-adjusted enough to not pin your self-worth on the negative opinions some random guy on the internet might have of something you do/create/like.

i am showing you respect by talking to you as if you are an adult who can deal with what i might have to say. if you're not, and you can't, i expect you to have the wherewithall to not engage with me. i could at the very least respect that. alternatively, you're also welcome to disagree with my points, obviously. i'm always up for a good discussion.

but you responding to criticism like mine with defensiveness, affront, or worse, the idea that you're now justified to go after the criticiser as a person, only comes across to me like immaturity, self-consciousness, self-importance, and in some cases - deliberate or not - obtusiveness. see how that cultural divide can go both ways?

we're probably not gonna find common ground here. i'm tired of being interpreted as aggressive all the time, but i have no intention of conforming to the american ideal of social courtesy, because it makes me feel shallow, disingenuous and fake. meanwhile, you're probably not gonna be able to hear me speak without shaking the knee-jerk feeling that i'm purposefully ignoring the sensitivity of others (because objectively, i am).

so do we chuck the whole thing up to different culturally determined approaches to communicating our ideas? can we keep a shred of respect and mutual understanding and leave it at that?

or are you gonna insist that i'm immoral/rude/aggressive/callous/antagonistic/attacking people/etc, for voicing my own opinions, in my own way, on my own blog - in which case i, in turn, will feel perfectly content to just consider you an inherently silly person?

as far as i can tell, it's one or the other.

(also please please recognize the difference between using culture as an excuse, and pointing out a very real cultural divide that influences both how i communicate and how you interpret how i communicate. my point is that we're gonna keep talking past each other unless we adress the fact that we approach communication with very different goals in mind, mine being effectiveness and honesty and yours being courtesy and social sensitivity. i am also not saying that either one of these is "the right way" to communicate. don't read shit into my takes that isn't there to begin with. thx)

[basslinegrave]

long time no talking about my ship so recently ive been thinking

about dynamics and swaps again, and how they would interact with the other from a different game, note: i have my own views about them at this point and each one of them has some specific traits based on canon things; most of their main characteristics overlap between different game versions but there are tiny details and traits that differ assigned by the terrible combo of canon content and my own delusions. lets go

i feel like 6 ling tong and 8 gan ning would be an interesting match, like i feel like they would fight the least? but maybe that would make it actually boring lol but i feel like 6 ling tong starts to really care about gan ning and 8 gan ning seems to care about ling tong

also i think 5 and 7 are just good as is, but 9 ling tong needs something better, at least mainline wise. mobile game has some good stuff, basically its not just completely one sided there... in 5 its mutual rivalry, in 7 they seem to come to something quite neutral or reach a new start, would even say they care for one another, but 9 feels like gan ning doesnt give two fucks except the mobile game that fed me two crumbs within the memory cards and the story, where gan ning was quite nosy lol but towards the end it was kinda flat, i do like one part but i prefer the dialogue for gan nings death in 9, the jp and cn voice acting got me, but it felt like somethings missing like how did we come to That. and after, why is ling tong now reminiscing and mentioning gan ning when he didnt show much care for him? if anything, only hatred? i gotta do everything myself and say it was a well kept secret or else its nonsensical lol

it was like. iykyk. if you dont you wouldnt give it much thought, so the dialogue is just for the few ppl that care so theyre fed (but man im still hungry!!)

in the end i feel like 8 gan ning is like the most caring one? like also a bit childish and a himbo but in the good way? i like that too, just keeping everything simple. so i wonder how he would be with the other ling tongs, like 9 would probably hate how friendly he is and angry cry about it (note: crybaby ling tong idea has been here since the very start and im on board with that and it has been revived in the mobile game. its real thank you) 5 would probably be the same i mean 5 gan ning did p much say the same thing as 8 but 8 would do it in even simpler terms and then be less of a brute? i dont know man theyre so different in my head than the actual game at this point i guess. also everyone hates 6 gan ning. and i havent thought about how stupid 5 and 6 gan ning has been portrayed in the manga..

getting lost in my own thoughts i remembered last year i was trying to make some graphic connecting them. i failed at it so badly as i got tangled.

heres an image. i am cropping out the color assignments because youd die of cringe but they are different levels/types of relationship.(at the latest point) i also Hope its unreadable. and btw, this is all only from ling tongs pov, i got totally lost on gan nings pov, when i realized i 99% of the time main ling tong and i dont take the time to look at gan ning under a microscope, and also the fact that most of gan nings routes just straight up dont have ling tong in them 😶 one sided hell

conclusion: "chase what the actual Fuck are you Talking About theyre the Same Characters hello?"

you dont get it like i do...

[spoonsforminutes]

I keep seeing posts of people hating on afab autistics (with the word white tacked onto it for people to sound progressive) accusing ‘low support/high functioning’ (put it in quotation marks because I know people don’t like functioning labels including me) afabs of ‘centring ourselves’ in the autism community especially on social media, accusing us of turning autism into a ‘quirk/superpower’ and saying we aren’t taking it seriously. What’s worse, a recent post I saw was by an autistic woman herself! When I called her a misogynist, she said I was ‘misunderstanding’ her post 😡

I understood perfectly well the ever ongoing debate on how there are ‘too many autistic afabs’ now. It was baffling to me that OP has a pretty large following for posting content on how she is constantly treated badly for being afab, then contributes to the stigma and responds to autism moms accusing afabs of ‘minimising’ our condition?!! I lost all my sympathy for them.

Idk, I’m just tired of afabs constantly being told we are taking resources, and now even ‘space’ online (can’t friggin win) when talking about health conditions/autism. We are always ‘taking from people who have it worse’ according to others. We are ‘taking high support needs people’s voices’. Exhausting.

I MEANT TO ANSWER THIS IN APRIL IM SO SORRY

With everything that's been going on in the sphere of gender issues, it's definitely made me realize that quite a few women or afab individuals have taken the misogynistic treatment they faced and then projected it onto others, perhaps as a way to process all the hurt and trauma. It's definitely not okay to do, but oftentimes projection is a way that people try to soothe themselves, but all it does is create more problems. As an afab individual myself who largely acts able-bodied despite the harm it does to my health, I've had a lot of people attempt to use my femininity to both praise my damaging work ethic while also sowing doubt into my own abilities, which is super fucking ableist to anyone regardless of their disability. Feminism should work to be more inclusive because whenever there are discussions around women's rights, a lot of it is rightfully on empowering women and balancing out gender inequality, but I don't think a lot of it can apply to those with disabilities. I think bout what happened to the term "girlboss": originally, it tries to empower women and womanhood to positions of power, but then the term became a meme and with it, all of its credibility was lost. Sexism turned it into a term where women in power can be ridiculed because "girlbossing" has shifted where the idea of afab individuals receiving authority is treated as a mockery due to undeserved effort, and that's ultimately what sexism is: anything outside of manhood and traditional masculinity is not given the same respect and thus allows anyone to degrade a whole person's effort based on their gender alone.

I hate functioning labels as well because by that logic, the fact that I'm college-educated and working makes it seem like I don't require support, but I do. EVERYONE needs support, but because the U.S. in particular is obsessed with individuality, community and mutual aid has been ridiculed by the capitalist mindset. Although I'm not autistic, I've had quite a few autistic friends, and genuinely I think autism is so cool. Like with my own disability, it can definitely suck ass, but everyone I've known with autism has strengths surrounding intelligence and humor. What's so wrong with considering it a superpower? It's literally your life and how you function, and especially since many able-bodied people want to make disability and neurodiversity a bad thing so that they can shame you, refusing to play into that and empowering yourself is huge. Plus, it's genuinely fun to upset people by being yourself. And since this particular autistic woman is complaining about both gender and autism, her projection just shows why ableism needs to be openly discussed and pointed out. I will probably struggle with internalized ableism all my life because neither culture nor disability awareness currently allow me to truly live life WITH a disability. Unfortunately, I feel that too much of the conversation is still about hiding or minimizing disability to appease the thoughts of others.

Sexism is also the reason for why people will complain about too many afab individuals with autism. I feel like the autistic community is well aware of the difficulties in being afab and getting a diagnosis because sexism is alive and well in our perspective of health. While getting my degree, I realized that gym bros are not actually wrong when they talk bout health and fitness; the actual issue again stems from how we view health and disability. Not only are gym bros operating on this assumption that everyone's health is fully able-bodied, but also they assume that every health issue can be fixed with a healthy lifestyle which isn't true? Ignoring the fact that research still uses white cisgender male data as the human physiological default, if you have an enzyme that doesn't function correctly in metabolism, intense exercise will definitely make you sicker, not better. It's the same with disability. With autism, the diagnostic criteria is supposed to help identify what possible supports you could need, but it still depends on what is actually helpful to you personally. With this economic crisis and the potential downfall of capitalism, disability is actually a great way to talk bout how capitalism isn't possible for anyone because productivity and the economy are talked about as if they are magical forces instead of behavior carried out by people. Capitalism pushes even able-bodied standards, so by supporting disability, we can also argue for better conditions for everyone, but that's the ideal scenario.

I ramble a lot when I write because writing is essentially how I think, but yeah, it's unfortunate that she's currently using her platform to push harmful ideas about gender, disability, and autism. No matter how severe your disability is, there is no such thing as taking away needed resources because those resources are for you. It's great if you don't need as much support as others, but if you need support, you should absolutely be allowed to do anything that makes your life easier. I'm largely going to be ignoring what society thinks bout disability and even about life in general because doing what society thinks has only ever hurt me. It's very funny to me when people try to complain about marginalized people as if we're the problem, not the people and the systems who reinforce the perspective that asking for help, asking for accommodations, is somehow a big ask. It's not, and I think we should be more mean about it because it's wild that we let people dictate what kind of support we can ask for.

To all of my autistic followers: hope you had a wonderful April, and please feel free to correct me on anything! I'm always learning, and your voice is incredibly important.

[officialpenisenvy]

it's half past midnight and now i'm so deeply invested in the potential of this story i'd never heard about in my life.

if it's incest it most definitely has all the horror elements for it. and the fact that it's sisters and not cousins or even mother and child makes it even more apparent.

besides the end result is the loss of something from the both of them, one's voice and one's child. so truly it's a no one escaped the violence situation. no matter if the child was on purpose i think.

im not great at putting ideas in writing. but thank u for the little puzzle. i think you've cracked it saying consummated pseudo-incest. elements are there but it's more interesting if it's not direct. much love.

oh anon i LOVE you and you truly understand what im saying and what ovid was implying. i think you should read the story for yourself (metamorphoses VI 401-674 is what im specifically examining here) but spoiling the ending a bit, procne and philomela turn into birds and procne specifically turns into a nightingale singing the mourning song of her dead child and her profaned sister, the element of mutual loss is very much there in the text. i also really love this passage that highlights procne's internal struggle about her plans for revenge:

[The son’s] arrival suggested what she might do, and regarding him with a cold gaze, she said ‘Ah! How like your father you are!’ Without speaking further, seething in silent indignation, she began to conceive her tragic plan. Yet, when the boy approached, and greeted his mother, and put his little arms round her neck, and kissed her with childish endearments, she was moved, her anger was checked, and her eyes were wet with the tears that gathered against her will. But, realising that her mind was wavering through excess affection, she turned away from him, and turned to look at her sister’s face again, till, gazing at both in turn, she said ‘Why should the one be able to speak his endearments, while the other is silent, her tongue torn out? Though he calls me mother, why can she not call me sister? Look at the husband you are bride to, Pandion’s daughter! This is unworthy of you! Affection is criminal in a wife of Tereus.’

i really love this myth, i even made it the subject of a true crime-style breakdown back in high school (linked here if you want to see that bit of cringe), and lately i have been really interested in dissecting the nature of its potential incestuous implications.

[mothersmalice-a]

get to know the author !

name: rubi! ive had two or three aliases over my time online, rubi's just the one that feels most like second nature to me. i also adore taking to some variations of my tag. ( ie. ivana, ruben, ru, etc. ) preference of communication: im almost always on disc.d ( dearest creature#1962 - feel free, im literally always open to rant about dynamics, ideas n whatnot n id absolutely adore talking to some of you ♡ ), alongside tw.tter, since its easier for me to keep tabs on with mobile. anything ooc is always easier to do with me through either, i hate tumblr ims. most active muse: marisa's been rattling around in my brain for a good while now, and even when im not writing for her ill normally have an idea or two about her simmering. i haven't had this much enjoyment from dissecting and delving into a muse in a very long time, along with the fact my perception of her is always changing with every re-read / rewatch / discussion. bedelia is also always around to me even if im not currently writing her, she's very fun to play off of and even gives me a good grounding point to bounce from if I'm stuck with other muses. experience / how many years: about eight years or so now ? i've always enjoyed writing since i was younger so developing that through my own writing and picking up muses while growing up has been a nice learning journey. platforms you use: tumblr, tw.tter and disc.d. best experience: when my mutuals and i are writing something more prolonged n they come at me with something absolutely devastating. got hit with something someone was brewing for weeks once unknowns to me and oh boy connecting the dots left me a wreck. rp pet peeves: people who create certain muses and expect their dynamic to adhere to your muse without any regard for your portrayal. im always for original muses, but not talking to me first when certain muses of mine just. do not fit certain dynamics is a big no no. fluff, angst or smut: depending on the context i adore fluff and angst equally. i thrive off of writing domestic fluff just as much as i would heartbreak or any other darker subject. i love the bittersweet nature of lyra and marisa's first time bonding or AUs where things are more domestic for them just as much as her reconciliation with asriel, or the intensity of the torture scene with the witches. if it exists and it hurts or its tooth-rottingly sweet i want it all. smut is a sore spot for a few reasons, alongside the fact it just isn't what i care about / have focus on for my writing or my muses, so it would be very, very rare for me to even consider, and even then only ever with close writing partners. long or short replies: it can really depend on the day and what muse im writing. i thrive more with longer replies for characters like marisa, because it's easier for me to find a voice and get into her head. short, bantery replies normally leave me lacking in what i feel a character is like, and shorter comedic interactions just aren't what i'd consider to be my strong suit in writing, so i linger towards longer replies. the biggest thing about long replies is i burn out very easily though, so i try my best to find a middle ground. best time to write: at night, on weekends or early morning before my classes. any time i have to myself where i can just draft things for a little bit, ideally. are you like your muse(s): christ i hope not, im way too sensitive to take to being called moral filth lmfao. i think what's so compelling about marisa is i'd love to inhabit some of her strengths, though. i adore her guile, and her femininity and her ability to take everything head on. she's so unbelievably driven and intelligent in what she does and okay come on im a lesbian why do you think im really here writing for her.

tagged by: @secondbetrayer, @evebeforethefall ( thank you. ♡ ) tagging: @toxicmalicex, @viciousgold, @dustserpent, @mryscross, whoever else sees this and wants to. ♡

[echoesofadream]

no literallyyyyy I loved when he was rawr emo boy grr !! but now he is wealth wealth rich Justin Bieber going insane. I guess we should have seen it coming, considering his young debut age and big success ofc hed land in that weird space eventually... aw this Made me kinda sad actually like it was funny being like yucky greasy long haired sweaty gamerboy but actually hes just child labor ptsd crashdown era :(( maybe he can collab with vernon and make a cringey emo song and get motivated to become a rockstar instead of twitch streamer? *have u seen Vernons solo its. its uh im really embarrassed I will forever remember the review a mutual or something posted "the song/mv is like something I made up to make fun of him" lol...) oh my god im getting more and more stressed thinking about jungkook now... even tho im not following him super closely cause yeah I dont have time to watch all those lives cheesus I dont rlly like lives anyway unless theyre special like tea time w hao or jungkook drinking wine or the hilarious bts live the legendary one anyway.... many worries.... also I agree maybe drugs would be good for him? its best to suffer in swagfull ways if u should suffer but I fear he doesnt have enough swag like, technically its swag to be an alcoholic but Liam Payne of one direction is swagless so his alcoholism is cringe so I think maybe jungkook couldn't pull of drug addiction unless he like killed someone maybe or became a girlblogger ? hmm much 2 think about and im sooo tired im gonna sleep now zz goodnight echo -misa ofc

Hi hi good morning misa hope you slept well 💞

wait you’re right. This must be a really confusing time for him because he has everything he could ask for but all his members are doing different stuff and like what should he do? When hes been working for one goal since literally t h i r t e e n y/o literally a CHILD. Like he has strived to be an idol and the best and given everything he has, literally sacrificed his youth. Like i would be so lost. But it seems like maybe he is just chilling. Maybe he should keep the dog…

That said yesssss can he PLEASE make emo music I KNOW hes got it in him, he can make IU-esque ballads also, punk rock indie pop.. but he should become a rockstar.. well whatever he wants i mean i think he just needs direction.. baby boy… AKDJFK thats so funny i think i saw something similar that vernons* lyrics seemed AI generated but yours is even funnier. Yeah good idea. Also no I cant watch his like three hours lives no matter how much i love his voice id rather just listen to decalcomania 1 hour version than all those endless kareoke covers. Hmmm yes all the fics ive read where hes done drugs hes been in like a downward spiral and im afraid theres truth to that, i think he could possibly go overboard also especially if he needs the drugs to do music. And hmm he does seem to be drinking in those lives and idk how to feel about i mean its his life i just mean theres a difference between decadence and suffering artist. Not to self insert on my favorite kpop boy but i think he also has the addiction gene. Maybe he should stick to the dog walks and gym routines for the sake of his wellbeing and maybe just go be a twitch streamer if thats what he needs💔 i feel like hes got so much inside of him to let out but its stifled by the fact that hes a 20 smth (idfk) millionare whos been cut off from the outside world due to being an idol since literal childhood. ok wow this is depressing. :/ i agree he should kill someone, he needs new demons

*playing Sad girl by lana*

[excusemeaminute]

Man oh man sometimes I just think of the concept of mutuals/international online besties and my brain leaks a little

[enchantestuff]

hatred - Charles Leclerc

I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off

gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz​ happy birthday <33

GIF NOT MINE

warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3

2k words 

part two

It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.

You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.

You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.

Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.

You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”

Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.

“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.

“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.

“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.

“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.

“Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.

“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.

“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained

“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.

“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”

Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.

You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.

He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It was a sigh, dipshit.”

“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”

“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.

He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.

“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.

“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.

“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.

Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.

Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded. 

“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''

You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.

You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.

“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.

One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.

“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.

“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.

“Feelings mutual, love”

You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.

Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.

“No” you blatantly lied.

You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.

“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”

“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.

You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.

You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.

Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.

“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”

“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”

“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”

[sukirichi]

OKAY OKAY I ANT HELP IT IM SORRY FOR SPAMMING BUT im a whore so wine: ingredient 18 + sugar 5 + spice 18 for my husband noritoshi

— I KNOW

: noritoshi kamo knows just what to do with you, and it seems there’s a lot more that he’s aware of than he lets on...

: warnings : mature content ahead!

meal order: 🍷 +18 (marriage for convenience au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 18 (disciplining) + thigh riding. your meal has been served! also okay WOW this is my first time writing for husband! noritoshi and im QUAKINGGGG simp for this man SIMP SIMP this man is fine FINE

check my masterlist and bio for my milestone event!

“You’re not holding up your end of the deal, princess,” Noritoshi murmurs in the column of your neck, his deep voice sending shivers down to your core. He snickers at this and runs his hand under your – his – shirt, brows raising when his rough palm makes contact with your bare breast. “No bra?” His fingers flick over a sensitive nipple and you grit your teeth, back arching as you press closer to him. “Hmm, always so responsive…”

“I’m sorry, Nori, I’m sorry, so sorry,” you keep mumbling over and over until you’re grinding on his thigh.

The clothing ratio is absolutely unfair. Noritoshi is still fully clothed, save for the slight exposure of his shoulder blades from when your eager hands ran over it minutes ago, needy and wet just for him.

But you’d been bad. The idea of marriage appalled you because you couldn’t handle the thought of being so committed to someone, but after finding out that your clan leaders planned to marry you to Gojo Satoru out of everyone, you immediately called out to Noritoshi Kamo – a family friend who seemed like he’d be decent enough as a husband.

It turns out he’s also in the same dilemma. His clan leaders also plans on marrying him to a much older woman notorious for mothering several children from different mothers, and he’s afraid of being tied down to a stranger like that.

Which is why you find yourself living under the same roof as him, the tension thick and painfully awkward.

You haven’t seen Noritoshi ever since you were little, and even then, the guy was too reclusive and preferred his books over playing with the other kids. He just has this aura that told everyone they weren’t on the same level as him, and you remember wondering why he shuts himself out like that, until you found out Noritoshi’s just pressured to be the perfect clan head like everyone expects of him.

After both your clans heard of your marriage, they were beyond delighted. In a way, you were too, but it still didn’t change the fact you didn’t know Noritoshi that much.

But it seems that’ll change soon, because you’ve been bratty and lashed out during the clan dinners a few hours ago. They made a degrading comment about Noritoshi about how he wasn’t doing enough as the clan head. Angered, you slammed your fists on the table, defending that Noritoshi’s doing a great job and they should stop breathing down his neck like that.

The moment the table fell silent, you knew you fucked up. Everyone stared at you with wide eyes, and if it wasn’t for Noritoshi’s warm hands brushing against yours with a calm request to sit down, you would’ve absolutely lost it.

“What were you thinking?” Noritoshi begins to kiss your exposed collarbone, breathing in your sweet scent that has him going crazy and hard under his robes. He finds it flabbergasting you’re so innocent, so unaware of your effect on him, walking around every morning wearing his shirt and those skimpy shirts as if you aren’t tempting enough already. After seeing that act you pulled tonight, Noritoshi’s hands roughen a little bit more as he pushes your bra straps to the side, effortlessly unclasping the material before it falls to the side. “You should’ve known better than to displease the elders, princess. Who knows what they’d do to us?”

“I know, I’m so sorry,” you whine out breathily, pushing your hips backward and forwards on his thigh to get some friction.

Noritoshi’s hands have been all over you the moment the clan driver dropped both of you off home. He’s upset – this much you know – and he lets you feel this by pushing you to the wall and slipping in his tongue past your soft lips.

You’re panting and moaning his name, and it’s embarrassing because he hasn’t even touched you there yet. Noritoshi tugs at your top to reveal your breasts and his eyes widen, breath growing shaky for a bit before he leans down, his mouth wrapping around the hardened bud. “No-Nori, gosh,” you moan under him, his arms now trapping both your hands beside your head.

Noritoshi doesn’t stop pleasing you with only his tongue and lips, swirling his tongue all around your nipple until it’s hard and perked just for him. He laps at like a starved man, groaning when your legs wrap around his waist to bring him closer.

“Nori, please, need you – n-need you to fuck me, please.”

“Do you deserve it?” his mouth finally leaves your perky titties, panting at the sight of you laid out open and wanton for him. A small gasp falls from your lips when Noritoshi finally tugs at the knots of his robe, pushing his boxers down to reveal his long length. It seems you’re not the only one who’s flustered and aroused; his cock is red and slapping along his abdomen, the tip flushed and leaking with pre-cum already. “Will you finally learn your lesson if I fuck you good?”

“Yes, yes, fuck yes.”

“Hmm,” Noritoshi taps the tip of his cock to your folds, coating it with your arousal and you’re clenching around nothing. You reach up to grab him by the collar until you’re kissing him again, Noritoshi’s breathy sigh like music to your ears.

He leans forward and enters you in one fluid motion, the sudden stretch making you pull away as you moan left and right. Noritoshi presses his forehead to yours, hands looped around your smaller ones as he gives a small, experimental thrust. Your reaction is immediate. You fall back onto the pillows while your pussy sucks him in like you’re claiming that he belongs inside you and with you only – and you want him, you want him, you want him so bad that you hope he knows it.

“I love you,” you suddenly blurt out, and Noritoshi stills above you for a second. He replaces his silence by slowly gyrating his hips, making his dick rub against your walls, your breasts bouncing and following his slow, sharp yet deep thrusts. “I know it’s too early, but I love you, and I want you so much you won’t get it.”

Noritoshi bites his lips when you suddenly clamp down on him, almost as if prompting him to answer. Sweat forms in your hairline as Noritoshi keeps thrusting into you, his eyes shut close at the feeling of your walls hugging his cock.

You don’t know if your heart is beating a mile a minute because he’s fucking into you so good that your body is shaking and you’re about to see white, blinded by the godly sight of Noritoshi slowly losing his composure of finally being in his wife’s tight little cunt. “I know,” he mumbles with a husky voice, and you moan louder when Noritoshi’s pace only quickens. “I know – because I look at you the same way, and I love you, god, I fucking love you.”

Noritoshi seals your confessions by pounding into you harder, his robes falling into the his elbows and you’re blessed with the sight of his abs glistening with his sweat. His stomach tightens every time he hits your sensitive spot and you’re there under him, gazing up at him lovingly with one of your hands gently buried in his hair.

It’s almost like making love with how he’s worshipping you with his eyes – making you feel like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes on – but his rough thrusts says otherwise.

“Noritoshi, b-baby, I’m close.”

“I know,” he repeats with such a soft smile that the contrast of his next actions has you gasping and your walls fluttering around him, thighs sore while he splits your pussy open with his cock. “But you’re not cumming without my permission, princess,” Noritoshi’s hands wrap around your neck, squeezing it and cutting off your air supply. Responsive as always, your eyes widen and your fucked out expression only entices him to fuck you into oblivion. “As your husband, I still need to teach my little wife a lesson and discipline her.”

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙆 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

edit by 🐓 anon. im still screaming over this.

∘ request: [insert the 14 asking for more Sapnap humor in a pt. 1.5 of Meet the Jacobses]

∘ pairings: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: smut (18+), nsfw, language, drinking, mentions of Todd the frat boy, lots of dialogue, biting, asphyxiation

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ a/n: this one goes out to the babes in the gc. ily.

i stole the Brick idea from the Jesse McCartney movie, Keith. I'm sorry. [tw for that link - sad & jesse mccartney not talking about beautiful souls]

also thank you everyone for your support on this series. when my friends and I conjured this up, I never thought I would be at the point where I get to share peoples art/paylists/etc. I'm so thankful for all of you.

okay I'll stop crying. happy reading and have a great week! :)

The sun beat down against your skin, your mind drifting to whether or not you should apply more sunscreen. Karl jumped into the light blue water in front of you, the water splashing out to almost completely soak you. You frowned at him as he came up for air, blowing you a kiss mockingly.

Sapnap’s cousins started tackling Karl, the chorus of laughter echoing around the pool. You stretched your legs out beneath the table, leaning into the shade of the umbrella as you watched them roughhouse.

Sapnap came out from the pool house, opening a beer bottle for you before taking the seat beside you. He sighed, buttoning the top of his shirt as he watched the boys. “Did you have a good time at the party yesterday? I dipped after an hour,” he asked, pushing his sunglasses to rest on top of his head.

You shrugged slightly, taking a sip of your drink. You couldn’t wait to tell your roommate how lavishly you’d been living. The fact that you were lounging by a heated pool, drinking beer from Copenhagen with the sons of millionaires was nearly mind-boggling to you.

You wet your lips, squinting your eyes as you looked at him. “I honestly have no idea. I was kind of just there as a Karl accessory,” you joked, making him chuckle softly.

“Yeah, I get that,” he flipped off one of the cousins as they threatened to throw water at him. “It’s always the Karl show around here,” he added. You raised your eyebrows at him and he backtracked. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. He’s a good guy; everyone’s just obsessed with him.”

You nodded slightly. “Yeah, he’s definitely the star baby,” you joked, making him laugh. “I need to ask you…” You bit your lip voice trailing off as you searched for the night words.

He sent you a closed-mouth smile. “About my mom and Karl?” He asked, biting back a blithe expression. It shocked you how calm he was about the situation.

You chuckled nervously. “I swear I won’t bring it up again, I’m just,” you cut yourself off, unable to describe the question marks pulsing through your thoughts.

He snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “I know right,” he reassured. “When I found out, I almost broke Karl’s nose,” he chided. “Not that I was like… angry it was my mom but out of how weird it was.”

“Yeah it is really fucking weird,” you agreed, laughing slightly.

He gestured as if to thank you for understanding. “I mean, Karl’s a great guy. He was my best friend for a long time but…” He made a face suggesting his discomfort and you snicked. “That’s my mom, man.” You giggled wholeheartedly at this, making him laugh too.

“What are you guys talking about?” Karl asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, dripping wet from his pool time adventures.

“Speak of the Devil and he shall appear,” you joked, making Sapnap wink at you. “Tacitus’ Annals,” you answered, making Sapnap nod at you.

He chewed on his lip, with a calm expression as he supported your lie. “I was telling your girlfriend how much I enjoyed his love of Nero,” he continued, you bit back a smile.

Karl ruffled his hair out in a towel. “Come on now,” he grumbled, calling the two of you on your bullshit.

Sapnap squinted as he looked up at him. “Karl supremacy. As always,” he answered with a touch of quiet sarcasm, making Karl roll his eyes playfully as he took to the other seat beside you.

Karl ran his fingers into his hair. “You wanna get matching tattoos together, Sapnap?” He quipped; Sapnap sending him a smug expression.

“Why? What were you thinking?” He asked, knowing he was walking into whatever Karl was setting up.

Karl pulled the leg of his swim trunks off his leg a bit, furrowing his brows. “I wanna get your mom’s name on the top of my thigh,” he teased, biting his lip. You rolled your eyes playfully.

Sapnap let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh my God, that’s so funny. I totally didn’t see that coming.”

Karl took a sip of your beer and you spoke up. “I think you’d look good with a tattoo, Sapnap. All jokes aside, you’ve got a great body,” you mused, sending him a wink. Sapnap bit back a smile looking at Karl, who you could already tell was glaring back at him. “Side note, I was meaning to ask you. There’s a guy that’s in Karl’s frat,” you paused, trying to remember what Karl had said Todd’s real name was when you were pinning his auction number on him.

Sapnap raised his eyebrows. “Oh, Mark?”

You pointed at him. “Yes, the fake Romney.”

Sapnap snorted. “He did that on campus too?” Karl nodded, a look of disappointment spreading across their faces.

“Speaking of Todd Mark, the king of the Brick” Karl kicked his feet beneath your chair before continuing, “I heard there’s a bonfire tonight,” he probed, making Sapnap slowly shake his head in disapproval.

You raised an eyebrow at the two. “What’s the Brick?”

Sapnap seemed to have already made up his mind on the situation. “A fucking cesspool,” Sapnap grumbled, sipping from his bottle as Karl tsked. Sapnap tilted his head. “You really wanna take her to the Brick? People get together and smoke crack over there. The fact that,” he paused to furrow his brows at you slightly, “Todd Mark? is the benefactor should say something,” he stated, lips curling into an uneasy expression.

You peered over your shoulder at Karl as if to ask if he were crazy. Karl swatted off your gesture. “They don’t smoke crack this time of year. All the locals are back visiting for break.”

Sapnap shook his head again in unease. You chewed your lip, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t know… Sapnap, do you wanna have a movie night instead?” You joked, making Karl sigh behind you.

Sapnap mimicked your mock severity. “Yeah, a stay in and cuddle?”

“Of course,” you repeated.

Karl wheezed. “No, we’re going.”

Without missing a beat, Sapnap chimed back. “Maybe you can take my mom instead?” Karl’s expression flattened at his words and you nodded, high fiving Sapnap in mock victory.

Despite Sapnap’s hesitation, you all went to what they referred to as The Brick. In reality, it was a spot on the edge of a lake. They only called it the Brick because of Todd’s dad, a racecar driver who claimed the post back when he was in high school and later bought it. A large bonfire burned in the center of the space, various people around your age and a bit younger were either dancing to the music coming from one of the souped-up sports cars or shotgunning beers. You pushed away the thought of your stingy fire marshall back home who―more than once―had reported you and your family for “overactive cookouts.”

“Overactive,” meaning your dad and Clay were failing at not catching hotdogs on fire when the two would get lost in a chat about a mutual videogame when the families would cross the fence line in the summer.

As soon as you had stepped foot on the gravel, Karl was welcomed back like some kind of celebrity, so you stayed close to Sapnap. He would lean towards your height, pointing people out that Karl had mentioned in the past or those worth noting. You nodded along, soaking in what he had to tell you and laughing at his jokes.

A random guy strolled past the two of you, making Sapnap purse his lips. “Hey, Sapnap. How’s your mom?” One of the countless jokes thrown at him since you’d arrived.

He tilted his head with a mock look of questioning. “Didn’t your parents just get divorced, Jeff?” He deflected. Jeff’s face dropped slightly as he moved on. You always found yourself struggling not to laugh at how well Sapnap was at counteracting the jabs at his mom and Karl. Most of you felt guilty for how long he had dealt with it.

Karl watched you carefully as you sat down beside Sapnap on one of the vast benches; hands shoved in his pockets as the group around him caught up. You were glad to have someone around like Sapnap, despite the fact that you often went to parties. In the past, it was more of a bi-annual thing, but since being with Karl, you found yourself shoulder to shoulder with nameless people in a line doing shots every other Thursday.

You laughed as Sapnap joked about avoiding the drinks at the Brick because of the mites in the water and the STDs in the beer. “So, I never asked how you met Karl?” He queried, sticking his hands into the pocket of his Baja hoodie.

You smiled slightly. “Uh…” Shameless thoughts of you on your knees in a random building when you barely knew his name paced through your head like a quickfire of serotonin. “We had a lecture together and he liked my handwriting.” Sapnap smirked, chuckling slightly at your words.

Karl’s eyes were trained on the two of you, demeanor shifting each time one of you leaned towards the other to hear over the music or the two of you bumping each other’s arms to grab your attention. You knew he wasn’t jealous, but his look of curiosity was almost hilarious to you. Sapnap stuck by your side while Karl introduced you to his friends. He was basically your encyclopedia on the newer people as Karl would go off on a tangent with them.

The fact that Karl was so close to all of them and was so popular made your heart swell with pride. You were used to Karl’s deadpanned glares at most of his frat brothers and his snide comments, but now he was welcomed back like he was some kind of hero returning from the war.

After saying goodbye to Sapnap for the day, you threaded your fingers with Karl’s, enjoying the time where it was just the two of you. He brought the back of your hand to his lips, smoothing a kiss against your skin. “So… Sapnap’s mom…” you began, making him chew the inside of his cheek. “Where… did it happen?”

He looked down at you with a perked eyebrow before raising his sights forward, pulling you off the street where the two of you were walking. You followed him as the pair of you snuck through between the houses and across the backyards until the two of you were at Sapnap’s house again. Through the front windows, you could see him talking to his sibling in the kitchen.

Karl grabbed your hand, leading you along the side of the estate and toward the pool house. You wanted to groan at the thought before he pulled you through the door with him. “Are you serious?” You hissed, looking around at the dark place. Karl fought not to smirk as he peered out through one of the windows, watching the lights in Sapnap’s house turn out.

The moonlight streamed through one of the slender windows, illuminating his face and washing his features clean. Your gaze trailed along his arms; his tattoos peeking out from beneath his hoodie as he reached up to lock the door.

He turned back to face you, walking closer to you. “Did you have fun today?” He asked, plopping down on one of the couches and pulling you into his lap. He moved your arms to rest around his neck, pressing his lips to your skin. “I feel like I didn’t see you at all. Sapnap’s a bogart,” he muttered jokingly, settling his hands on your hips.

You scoffed before leaning toward him, pressing your lips against his. “Make it up to me,” you murmured, raking your fingers into his hair. “I think I selfishly need you to ruin me here; you know. Like a cleansing of you and Ms. Scarlet,” you chided.

He bit his lip, eyes pulsing with lust as he fought not to grin. You pressed your lips against his, turning to lay back on the couch and yank him on top of you. He chuckled into your kiss, as your hands moved to curl into his hair. His lust was a taste you could get drunk off if given the chance as his hands traveled the length of your body, moaning as you ground your hips against his, gripping into his clothes.

He leaned off of you momentarily to pull his shirt over his head as you slipped out of yours, you wrapped a leg around him, pushing him onto the couch instead and pinning him between your thighs as you straddled him, running your hands up his tattooed chest and connecting your lips again.

One of his large hands covered your breast as you began to grind your hips against his. His teeth grazed against your skin as he caressed your body while you moved against him, trying to create as much friction as you could against his jeans. He ran his fingers along the hem of your underwear, his lips curling into a smirk as he moved slightly to get a better look. "These are nice. Did you plan this?" He leered, snapping the elastic against your hip playfully. You rolled your eyes, pulling his chin towards you and pressing your lips against his. Every movement of his body seemed to lick at the fire deep within you.

You smirked breathlessly as his lips settled against your collarbones. “These are my church clothes. I had no other motive,” you jousted. His hand reached up to rest against your collarbone, his fingers lightly curling around your neck.

“Of course, how could I not realize,” he jabbed, pressing his lips and tongue against your neck. You moaned, tugging at his zipper before wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping him into harder arousal. He groaned against your neck, bucking into your hand lightly. His head tilted back against the couch beneath you, cheeks flushed at the attention. His teeth nipped at your skin as you ground yourself against his thigh, basking in his noises of pleasure.

His cock pulsed in your hand, making him grab your wrist and pull you beneath him. He gripped one of your legs, resting it in the crook of his elbow as he pushed himself into you, connecting your lips to swallow your moans. The feeling of him inside of you sent a wave of pleasure through your body. His voice was low in your ear, murmuring your name as if it were a curse. You moaned as he took one of your hands, lacing your fingers together beside your head as he kissed you again, tongue slipping into your mouth.

His thrusts became more rhythmless, his hold on you driving him deeper as the pool house filled with the noises of your whimpering moans. Karl’s breath was warm on your neck as he took advantage of your submissive state. He moved his hand from around your leg, wrapping his fingers around your neck again. Your body shivered, waiting for the pressure of his hand as his hips rocked against yours.

He chuckled darkly, teeth grazing against your shoulder before his lips hovered beside your ear. “Beg for it,” he commented, voice strained as he thrusted into you.

You swallowed, fingers digging into his back. “Choke me,” you groaned, “please.” His hand tightened around your neck, breath hitching in your throat as his thrusts became rougher. He bit back a smug grin at the way you reacted to his antics, relishing in your body beginning for more.

He relaxed his hand, pressing his lips to yours as you struggled to inhale. Heat ran through your body as your leg curled around his waist, nails raking down his back.

You leaned away from his lips, voice coming out unevenly as you moaned his name. His movements became sloppier as you groaned in bliss, tugging the flesh of his bottom lip between your teeth. You tipped your head back slightly as you reached your climax, riding out your pleasure and sending him over the edge as he pulled you closer to him, his hands digging into your hips as he encouraged you to continue grinding against him. You exhaled deeply, pressing your lips against his neck and his cheek before kissing him breathlessly as your movements slowed.

You pulled on your shirt, Karl’s hands moving to rest on your hips as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Should we leave a note for Ms. Scarlet?” You joked, making him chuckle as his arms wrapped further around your waist, cheek pressing against your shoulder.

“Who?” He teased.

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy @himbobimboeater @karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @twist3dtinkerbell @more-like-reyna @teenage0jealousy @deepestofwaters @honk-izzie-was-taken @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @instabull @glowstick-cafe @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @anoaeunoia @little-gremlin-in-the-walls

[fiendishpal]

hii fiend!!! i literally adore your art its so pretty and it- it just- *inhales* *exha-*💞💖✨💞💖✨💞🙏🛐🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️anyways so- bcz u guided me to the osaaka ship and now im in love w it couldya please offer me some fic recommendations? ok, i just love ur art ur one of ny faves lov u have an amazingly sweet and beautiful day!!! :D

sure thing!!

i’ll put them by category here (i also have some art for some of them, i’ll post them when i’ve got the time)

i’ve put a star ★ beside fics that i’ve read a bunch of times hahaha!

canon-compliant

(fics that i think you should read first. mostly canon-compliant. so these are post-timeskip. after their meeting at the black jackals vs adlers game. these really won’t make any sense if you’re anime-only, sorry.)

stay with me go places by sparksandsalt ★

this fic. THIS FIC!!!!! this started everything for me!!! this is the reason why i started shipping osaaka!!!! the way they handled the characters is sooooo!!! *chef’s kiss* they really stick true to the characters' voices and the care they put into characterizations is impeccable. i also love bokuto and akaashi’s relationship here!! they’re so in each other’s lives that bokuto ends up exposing akaashi’s feelings indirectly and accidentally lmao and also atsumu and osamu’s relationship is so funny and hilarious. they are like how brothers are, atsumu showing his support but also clowning osamu in the process

this fic single-handedly fueled me to create so much osaaka content.

i dont know how many times i’ve read this tbh

wait by sanguinedawns

i love the yearning in this fic. the longing and the waiting and the expectation there. they’re trying to be subtle about their feelings for each other but they’re seen at the end but at 4k it’s narrated so smoothly. i love mutually pining idiots.

in the afternoon by yamaboto

this is so!!! i love this so much!! at 1k we see osamu yearning for akaashi once again. i love how they write this short scene. i could really picture the afternoon light coming in through the traditional panel doors and how the light must feel on your skin. 

take what we love inside by yamaboto

this is an established relationship osaaka and how they got together. in the afternoon (the fic above) is a snippet of how warm the writer could put words together. and it really is so sweet there’s a scene where they slow dance and it’s the best. i also love the simple fact that they put in how osamu cannot let anybody go hungry hhaha 

shout softly by lostsunsets

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS MADE MY HEART FEEL SO LIGHT AND SOFT AND TENDER. THIS FIC IS SO PRECIOUS OH MY GOSH

i love love loooooooove how the author put osamu's love and passion for food and filling in the pieces on what osamu does to fuel this passion --while in the back burner-- while he was still playing volleyball in high school

AND HOW HE LONGS FOR AKAASHI. THIS IS MAKING ME AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

GO READ IT PLEASE

we’re in au territory

(the setting is not canon-compliant)

sleeping with the enemy by billionairevolleyboysclub ★ 

the setting is in 2013 haikyu volleyball circuit. meaning they’re still in highschool and are still playing volleyball and they just happen to chance upon each other at interhigh.

 i love how sweet osamu is and how he got his crush on akaashi. and it’s lovely how they wrote the budding of a highschool relationship!! and their take on how osamu and akaashi handle ldr??? it’s delicious. dont let the fake/pretend relationship tag fool you this is very cute i love them so much!! i guess the ‘no drama’ aspect is what i like about this a lot bc osamu’s a pretty straightforward guy esp i guess back in highschool. also the second-hand embarrassment is real lmao

welcome in by risquetendencies ★

in this setting osamu’s still the owner of onigiri miya but the au aspect of this is that they haven’t met before. so basically a meet-cute.

and man  oh mannnnn the tension written here is good food. osamu is written so obviously into akaashi (i mean who wouldn’t) and akaashi is affected by this greatly and it is!!! wow!! i just love how smooth osamu is here and how flustered akaashi gets bc “omg a hot guy likes me????” (yes akaashi, this hot guys thinks you’re a sexy piece of ass please believe it)

 akaashi in a gay panic is literally the best thing. 

blood brothers by billionairevolleyboysclub (18+)

miya twins are vampires and akaashi has a thing for fangs. that in and of itself is enough reason for you to read this. i also love how the writer puts a distinction between atsumu and osamu on how they interact with/ feed on akaashi.

like the dawn by eggsan

this fic is actually inspired by my royalty au but im not putting this here bc of that. i really like how the writer introduced their story. i remember telling someone that the atmosphere of how they write is like the voice of a soft-spoken maiden hahaha it's lovely!! think light academia aesthetic. i also love how i get the doki-dokis when osamu, who is essentially a stranger, gets close to akaashi. i can feel akaashi's excitement and trepidation.

forgive the sea, follow the tide by KyryeDuBarie (18+)★

PIRATE AU!!!!!!

i love the fresh twist that they did here on the classic mermaid/pirate au. the twist being akaashi is actually a pearl diver and at the same time being vaguely hinted as a mermaid hhahaha. osamu's a pirate that got shipwrecked and got washed up on akaashi's shores that akaashi, of course, saved. 

there's a bunch of cool things that happened too that i cannot disclose bc that'll ruin the thrill of reading this. the plot is solid and the romance between osamu and akaashi is gradual but so so sweeeeet!! i highly recommend this!! but better clear up your schedule bc this hefty boy comes in at a whopping 40k!!!!

keep time on me by yamabato

this fic is based from my zombie apocalypse au!! and even though it’s set in the end of the world, they were still able to write it so sweet and comforting????? i only wish osamu and keiji the happiness they deserve :’)

i also like the whole theme of time in the story and how the story revolves around it. it’s very good!!!

the contest between by batman (18+)

akaashi is a documentary director and osamu is his subject. i love  love looooove how the author wrote how stubborn both of them are and how they could clash sometimes but not in the explosive type of way. it’s actually cute and sweet, you’ll see what i mean when you read this hhehehe

AND AKAASHI IS SO LOVELY HERE!!! so lovely!!! and he laughs and smiles a ton and those moments were written in a way that just said ‘look at this angel!’ LMAO idk maybe that’s just me. i love akaashi so much

AND THIS BABY COMES IN AT A WHOLE 75K!!!!!!!!! AMAZING!!!!

[hufflautia]

“we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” and/or “would you just shut up and kiss me already”

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only.

Hufflepuff watched as Slytherin shut the door behind them. He's mad, she thought, suppressing a smirk. This is gonna be a long night.

Slytherin walked over to where Hufflepuff was sitting. She mindlessly drummed her nails against the wooden table, not bothering to meet his gaze. She knew his eyes were on her. They always were.

"Why did you bring me to your room," Hufflepuff sighed. "We're missing the reunion."

Slytherin ignored her question. "What kind of bullshit was that?"

She tilted her head, feigning an innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I just told Gryffindor that you and I are friends."

He leaned in with his hands resting against the arms of the chair, trapping her in. His hot breath kissed her cheek as he spoke.

"We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

When they had made the mutual decision to have sex with no strings attached a couple of months ago, Hufflepuff was fine with it. But there was an instance where she had waken up earlier than he did and her eyes were drawn to the way soft puffs of air left his lips. And then she began laughing at his jokes more. More than once, her heart raced uncomfortably fast at the feeling of his lips dragging torturously slow over her bare skin. She brushed this off and reasoned that other people would have a similar reaction. But it got to the point where she laid in bed at night with the sweet lull of sleep nowhere to be found, for she could not stop thinking about him. It was then that she knew she had done the exact thing she had forbade herself to do. She had fallen in love with Slytherin Lestrange.

Slytherin never seemed to realize. He couldn't even notice the difference in the way she kissed him or the fact that her eyes clung to him when he laughed or flashed one of his signature smirks that she had initially found to be annoying; she now considered it to be one of his most endearing qualities.

But now Hufflepuff was fed up. It was annoying to love a guy who was totally oblivious. So when Slytherin brought her to his room at the hotel they were staying at for the class reunion, she was gonna make it hurt. She wanted him to feel how frustrating it was to be with someone who was clueless.

"Friends with benefits, maybe." Her tone was icy. "But nothing more than that."

An unreadable expression washed over his face and Hufflepuff furrowed her eyebrows. What was that?

"Okay," he said slowly. "Then why didn't you say that?"

"Are you kidding me?" She sat up in her chair. Their faces were inches apart. "Did you really want me to tell Gryffindor that we're fucking?"

He smirked.

"If it'll let him know that you're mine."

The word sent a searing hot sensation through her body, the heat between her legs becoming harder to ignore. But she refused to let him have the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on her.

"Why are you so pressed about this anyway," she said, changing the subject. "It's only Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor," he growled, the tenor of his voice making her uncomfortably needy. "You mean the guy who's been trying to make a move on you since fifth year?"

"That was years ago," she exhaled before she stood and walked towards the window. She gazed upon the view. "This is our class reunion. He's probably gotten over his little crush by now." Hufflepuff ignored Slytherin as he walked up behind her. His torso pressed against her back.

"He definitely didn't," he glowered, "and we both know it."

A teasing smile pulled at her lips. "Good for me, I guess. Maybe I'll pay him a little visit later tonight."

Hufflepuff had to bite back a laugh when she felt him tense up - it was so easy to rile him up sometimes. Her smile faded when he slipped his hands around her hips.

"I'll ignore what happened with Gryffindor," he said coolly, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. His hands slid under her dress, and Hufflepuff hitched her breath as they slowly traveled towards her cunt, leaving a touch of fire. The air in her lungs seemed to disappear at his next words.

"Because he's not the one fucking you senseless every day."

Her resolve began to crumble as his hands skimmed along her inner thighs, coming dangerously close to her clothed clit.

"He's not the one whose name you cry out at night," he continued. "He doesn't know how to touch you, where to touch you. He doesn't know how to make you scream." Hufflepuff gasped when his thumb met her clit. Her head fell back against his shoulder as he made slow circular motions over the bud, giving her the pleasure she craved. His erection pressed against her back as she whimpered and mewled under his touch.

A whine escaped her throat when he suddenly drew his hand away. Confused, she opened her eyes and turned. His hands were still on her hips as he watched her, a smirk on his face.

"Gryffindor," he drawled with dark eyes, "isn't the one who memorized every curve of your body. He's not the one leaving you begging for more. He doesn't know how good your tight cunt feels around—"

"But you do," Hufflepuff breathed. "It's you who knows how to make me feel good." The corner of his lips lifted smugly. Her cheeks were flushed as she gazed up at him. "Now would you just shut up and kiss me already?"

Slytherin stepped closer until their chests touched, their breaths meeting each other in the middle.

"Admit we're more than friends," he murmured, "and I'll do more than just kiss you."

~

I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN SOMETHING THAT SMUTTY BEFORE OH MY GOSH I CANT COUNT HOW MANY TIMES I LAUGHED BC SOMETIMES I LAUGH WHEN IM NERVOUS. is it bad that i listened to Call Me By Your Name while writing the ending:'). i actually have written something smuttier when i was drafting this fic for someone who requested sly and huff's first time. i havent finished but that's 10x more smutty than this.

This had more angst than I expected lmao I would've continued writing but this fic is long enough already and I also liked how it ended. But if I HAD continued, I would've addressed the angst situation and continued the story with something like this:

A somber expression washed over Hufflepuff's face, and she looked away. Slytherin furrowed his eyebrows, not expecting this reaction. He gingerly touched her hand.

"What do you want me to say, Slytherin?" she murmured, keeping her gaze on the floor. [would've written something that flows well to the next paragraph and insinuates that Hufflepuff is like "what are we to you?"

He didn't respond immediately, [would've written something that signifies his confusion, like he didnt understand what she was asking but then he does]

"I..." [would've written more dialogue but I don't have any ideas rn. i was about to realllyyyy think about this and then i stopped myself and was like jess stop it this isnt an official part 2, just wing it, ur getting way too ahead of urself]

-something happens where sly says you like me and huff is like ???? HOW. DO U KNOW. and then sly brings up this time when huff kissed him softly and she gets defensive-

"You kissed me back!" she retorts.

"I did," he said coolly.

She blinks, making the connection.

"You did," she repeats.

^basically insinuates that yes,he kissed her back, so he lieks her too and huff just realized that (via the "you did") and then i wouldve thought of a way to transition that and make it fluffy and then they fuck but i leabe the ending ambiguous like how i had left the original story. also i kinda hinted that sly liked her too by including this line: "An unreadable expression washed over his face and Hufflepuff furrowed her eyebrows. What was that?"

And that's the end, folks! Hope you enjoyeeed

[hes-writer]

Ruin

Summary: im not sure how to summarize this without spoiling the story

Warning: angst, bits of fluff here and there

Word Count; 4158 words

A/N: the long-awaited part 6 of the Tarnish series! A collab with @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. My attention span is short itself so I've decided to split it up into two parts.

UNEDITED

___

Harry tried to see the brighter side of the situation because it truly was something to look forward to. Having the chance to get to know Halo was something that he should be grateful for. As Y/N said, Harry did not deserve to be a part of her life, despite the fact that he was the father. And somewhere, somehow— he understood where she was coming from.

Harry honestly wouldn’t know what he would do if the roles were reversed; if Y/N were the one to have been cheating on him. He would not have a clue if Harry would be as kind to her as she was with him. If an outsider were to assess the situation between Harry and Y/N, they would definitely choose her side to be in favour of. So far, Harry still wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly Y/N had done wrong for him to be swayed by an illicit affair. Was there even a moment in time that he could vividly see where he made the decision to just up and betrayed her trust? Because if there was; either his memory has gone to shit or Harry was more of a jerk than he served himself.

To put things into perspective, Y/N was the perfect partner and Harry had somehow lost sight of that by cheating on her. Don’t get him wrong; Camille was good, great, even. Yet Y/N was an amazing woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Coincidentally, those were the same type of things that Harry needed, too. As much as it pained him to say it, Camille’s rejection of their own little family made him rethink his decision-making process. Harry has learned more about himself in these past few months than he did in his entire lifetime.

For starters, he cleared it up that he had absolutely no excuse for cheating on Y/N except the fact that his retention span lasted a good few years before he was in search of something fresh; something new and exciting. Maybe it scared him just how serious she was in having a family in the future that his subconscious thought that Harry needed one last hurrah to get the infidelity out. Besides, divorces are more complicated when there are children involved.

Secondly, being with Camille was an infatuation that lasted for a long, three years—beginning while Harry was in a relationship with Y/N. Feelings were still there for sure, but he just didn’t know if it was enough to make him stay, especially when Y/N and baby Halo were right there waiting for him. They actually weren’t; Harry just liked to pretend that they were so that he could justify the consequences of his actions.

Camille was trying to make things work with him; Harry could see that. However, there were only so many things that she could do to improve their relationship before she had to change the choices that she had made years prior. Camille really didn’t want to say that she had refuted the idea of not having kids for the sake of making a relationship prosper, but maybe it was what she had to do to make him stay. She wanted a happy life with someone who wanted the same things as her. Harry wasn’t the man who shared a mutual agreement and she was pushed to question her options.

Nonetheless, Camille and Harry stuck with each other because they were all they knew for the past three and a half years. It was definitely ironic for Harry to say that he couldn’t just leave a three-year relationship behind for another woman; because he had done that before. Now, he was a hypocrite too? His ego cannot take it.

____

Connor wrapped his arms around Y/N’s middle as she washed the dishes in the sink. Their water heater was broken so the stream that came from the faucet sometimes teetered from freezing cold to extremely hot. Right now, she was scrubbing the sponge on the porcelain as quickly as possible while the water was at the right temperature.

Y/N turned her head to the side, pressing a kiss on Connor’s cheek. He rested his chin on her shoulder, bobbing up and down as she moved her arms.

“Is this really a good idea, baby?” Connor asked, staring at the way her lashes fluttered in a pregnant pause, taking a deep breath.

She nodded, reaching over slightly to rest the wet dish on the drying rack. “Halo deserves to at least know her real father,”

And it was true. What kind of mother would Y/N be if she kept a secret like that from her own daughter? The past two years was a constant ping-pong battle of reaching out to Harry and sharing the news to him; then, Y/N would be hit with a shot of realization, wondering if this would ruin his current lifestyle.

“I understand. What if he leaves again? Hate to remind you but Harry left you once before, don’t think he’ll hesitate to do so again,”

She froze at Connor’s words. Y/N was aware that he only said that in good faith, to remind her of how hurt she was at the time and just how long it took for her to be able to finally breathe again.

One side of Y/N urged to still defend Harry. She wanted to turn and around, yell at him because Connor doesn’t know Harry as she does. Harry wasn’t the type to build a child’s dreams up only for him to personally manhandle the heart and crush it in his fist. There was a reason why he was a godfather to so many kids; Ruby, Arlo and Jackson—because he was capable. Harry was a nurturing father who put himself on the back burner in favour of making sure that the little ones were safe and secured. He had no problem being third if it meant that the kids were first, then Y/N, then him.

It all sounded so good in Y/N’s head; so well-rehearsed and very well thought out. The monologue that had somehow stuck in the sides of her brain like a script taped to the wall, ready for the time it needed to be recited. The shredded pieces of paper also reminded her that Y/N might’ve known Harry before, but she certainly doesn’t anymore. In fact, she knew just as much as Connor did.

Just like Y/N had grown and evolved into a new person, Harry was not the same guy he once was when they were together.

“I told him the consequences if he did,”

Connor pulled back, stepping away from her. “But wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t take that chance? Who knows what he might do. . .” He trailed off, grabbing a dry rag to wipe the water dripping from the dish.

Y/N took a leap of faith in letting Harry in. He was a wild card. He could promise one thing but would mean another. Or he could recite a vow and completely annihilate the person as he did with her. Yet somehow, Y/N couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him one chance. Maybe it was because a small part of her craved to re-create a happy family that they had always wanted.

“It’s a risk. I know that” Y/N rinsed a cup, swirling the water in circles. She felt like that whenever Harry was around.

“So why are you still doing it?” Y/N opened her mouth to answer, “And tell me the truth this time, yeah?”

Her boyfriend stared at her with an unreadable emotion in his eyes, lips drew taut in a straight line and arms were crossed over his broad chest. The pressure was immense on Y/N’s shoulders. She was torn between admitting what she had buried deep below the sand or simply glossing over it like a figure skater. Nonetheless, Y/N was on thin ice.

For years, she had flicked away the remaining feelings that stayed with her. But they were persistent in sticking by her side. It wasn’t like Y/N could completely erase Harry from her life--from who she was. She still dressed like him, evidenced by the matching pair of Gucci loafers she chose not to wear for the night in fear that he would coincidentally be sporting the same footwear.

Furthermore, they had a child together! Halo was the spitting image of him. It was hard not to be reminded by a man she once loved when their little baby was both of them mixed in one. So did Y/N still love Harry? She couldn’t deny how much her heart fluttered seeing him stutter over his words at the park. Y/N just wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety and nervousness or excitement and anticipation.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Harry had sneakily closed a sleeping Halo’s bedroom door. His trek back to the kitchen was slow, slightly afraid of the awaiting talk he and Y/N--and possibly Connor-- have yet to have. Harry wanted to be there for Halo and for Y/N every step of the way, but he knew that Y/N would not allow him around if his intentions were to cater to a relationship with her. She was already tolerating him as is.

Standing behind the thin wall that acted as a partition from the hallway to the kitchen, Harry carefully placed his hands against the barrier to steady himself. He didn’t know if his legs could take whatever answer would spill from Y/N’s mouth. If she admitted her true feelings, he would stumble and melt into a puddle. He would be confused, but Harry wouldn’t be opposed to it; he was in a relationship after all. If she denied it--which was the more likely option--, his heart would break silently in his chest.

Harry numbed himself of the guilt raking at his ankles. He was well aware that this was a private conversation but hey; it was not his fault that he had ears straining to listen to Y/N’s reply.

“Do you still love him?” Connor followed up, voice grim. Almost fearful to find out the truth. Harry was, too.

Y/N paused her thoughts as well as her actions, flinching at the sudden intrusion of Connor’s question. She flinched, yelping a little and jumping backwards when the broken water heater subdued the filtering liquid into a burning hot splatter on her skin. Connor picked his feet up in alarm, grabbing at Y/N’s wrist to see the minor injury on the back of her palm.

“Ow!” Y/N whisper-shouted, soothing the ache by situating it between her thighs before shakily showing it to Connor; the doctor.

“Let me see, baby,”

Harry peeked his head around the corner, almost losing his cover with the way his feet instantaneously wanting to move towards a hurting Y/N. Good thing he caught himself. Surely they would put two and two together and realize that Harry was eavesdropping.

That decision came with a laceration to his heart. Harry got a first-class ticket to register that the couple was everything he and Y/N were. The pet names, the domesticity of their actions. The caring glances and constant check-ups.

Deciding to come out of hiding, Harry almost had a heart attack when he turned the corner and was met face to face with Connor. His brows had dipped in worry, face determined to grab some cream to apply to the burn from their first-aid kit in the bathroom. Harry guessed that his whizzing thoughts failed to hear the quiet instruction.

The man jolted in surprise, stopping quickly in his tracks, “Oh hey! Is Halo asleep?” Connor gave him a smile despite the confusion etching in his forehead. Harry nodded dumbly, lips pursing like a fish. “Y/N’s just burned her hand, nothing too serious though,”

He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N eyeing the both of them suspiciously, still clutching the burnt skin close to her. “Oh, I see,”

Connor smacked a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping around him to grab the cream. Harry walked towards Y/N, noticing that she was soothing the painful ache with ice wrapped in layers of tissue. She was softly hissing through her teeth once in a while.

“You okay?”

She tilted her head at him, appearing to be dazed out in her thoughts. “Yeah, uh, nothing too bad,”

Harry kept his distance, leaning on the other side of the counter. He started off by saying, “Thank you for giving me this chance,”

Y/N graced him with a smile, standing up straighter when Connor appeared with a tube in his hand. Harry watched as he unscrewed the cap, placing it beside her. He squeezed a bit of the cream unto his fingertip before applying it directly on Y/N’s skin. She winced, wanting to pull her wrist away from his grip but Connor didn’t let her, “It’s gonna be fine, baby,”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, continuing to rub circles on the burn until Y/N visibly relaxed through slouched shoulders and less shaky breaths.

Harry was staring at them like a kicked puppy. He was fussy and frustrated all in one. He wanted the attention that Y/N was giving Connor. He wanted to be Connor, but both of them were too wrapped up in their little love bubble to notice Harry’s squinted eyes and pinched brows.

He was frustrated because even if he wasn’t the direct cause of her pain, Harry had somehow found a way to continue hurting her and Connor was always there to pacify his wrongful actions. Harry hated that this was how fate had planned his life.

Harry cleared his throat, raising a fist to his mouth, “Think I should go,” His thumb pointed over his shoulder, “Uh thank you again,”

Y/N snapped her head to him, gaze lowering in a timid manner as if she forgot that he was even there in the first place. Connor was the first to reply, “Alright, man. See you whenever,” He capped the tub, shoving it in his back pocket to return to its place.

She leaned on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips, muttering something in his ear that had Connor teasingly wrapping his hands on her hips. Harry looked away, taking long strides to the entryway instead.

“Harry, wait!”

He shuddered at the memory of the words that had changed his life when Gemma told him the truth. Harry’s shoe was half-way one when he turned around. “Yeah?”

Y/N was holding a folded brochure, “Halo has a recital this weekend for her dance class,” She handed it to him, “Maybe you’d want to go? You can bring Camille if you want but I think it would be better if you didn’t. She’s still new to this and I don’t want her asking too many questions until she can unders--,”

“I’ll go,” Harry cut her off, unfolding the folded paper. The venue was about twenty minutes away from his place. It was only an hour-long considering the skill set of two-year-olds but it was a fun way for parents to cheer on their little ones. Harry’s previously sour mood was now replaced with giddiness at the sight of his daughter in a pretty pink tutu, twirling on her feet. He was sure that Halo was born to become a performer like him.

She sighed in relief, puffing her cheeks out cutely, “It’s a private dance class. Pretty high end so the security should be okay,”

And there it was again. The constant reminder that Harry was otherworldly to some people. As much as he loved living his lifestyle, he sometimes wished that he was a normie. That was a lot to ask for considering his current situation with his daughter, but a man can dream.

“Got it,”

Y/N leaned over to show him the back of the leaflet, “Just show them this ticket and security should let you in. Halo wanted me to give that to you because she was too shy earlier. I know it’s short notice but I guess she was comfortable enough to ask you,”

Harry blushed at the admittance, mentally patting himself at the back for making his daughter feel at ease in a short amount of time.

“I’ll be there,” He pushed his heel to adorn his sneakers. Y/N bit her lip, she looked hesitant, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, by the way. I can explain that you’re busy. She’ll probably understand,”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Harry wasn’t going to ruin his progressive relationship with his daughter on ‘probably’. “Y/N, s’alright. No problem, yeah? I’ll be there,”

___

Where was he?

It was two days after the dinner and Harry’s promise of attending Halo’s recital was vanishing with each passing second. Every time the hand of the clock ticked to indicate that another minute had elapsed. Harry still wasn’t jogging through the carpeted middle of the small theatre to where Connor and Y/N were seated. Two empty seats were left at the end of the aisle to aid Harry--and possibly Camille--a smooth arrival without creating any distractions.

There were only five minutes left before the stage crew were to dim the spotlights illuminating the room. Y/N was checking her watch what felt like every second, clicking her phone on and off once in a while worried that something may have happened to Harry. Maybe security wouldn’t let him in. The gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach suggested that Harry just forgot the event tonight but Y/N would cross the bridge when they got to it. Regardless, her nerves were left unsettled as swallowing proved to be more difficult with the way a sip of her water had her gulping audibly. Connor wasn’t there to lend a soft hand on her upper back to help her breathe.

Speaking of, Connor had taken the initiative to visit Halo backstage. The ballet teacher was growing weary of the way the little dancer ran out from beside the stage to stop in front of her parents, asking, “Where’s Hawwy?”.

Halo had done it three times in hopes of receiving an answer aside from, “He’s not here yet,” Y/N tucked a fallen strand of hair from the otherwise sleek bun from beside her cheeks. Her daughter’s form slouching as her pretty eyes watered slightly, “He’s not coming? You told me he was coming, mama,”

Y/N glanced at Connor nervously, being met with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look which didn’t really help the situation. Luckily, the teacher had approached them with a clipboard on hand, searching for the ballerina. The teacher had suggested that one of them stay with her behind the curtain until the show began. Connor volunteered.

“Better hope he comes or else we’ll have to deal with the consequences. I really don’t want to see her heartbroken before of a promise he couldn’t keep,” Connor muttered, following the woman but not before thumbing circles on Y/N’s flushed cheek.

Y/N knew that he meant well. She also didn’t want to comfort a heartbroken Halo because Harry failed to show up where he promised he would be. And now, with a little less than two minutes before showtime, Connor was sent back beside her. Parents were being ushered to find their seats before the lights dimmed and it would be difficult to maneuver through knees and legs.

“Is he here?” Connor questioned, draping a hand on her shaking knee. Y/N shook her head, casting another glance at the auditorium doors. He waved at Halo who peeked her head between the silk curtains, wandering eyes looking at the empty seat beside Y/N.

“No. Hasn’t texted or answered his phone either,” Y/N was about to dial Harry’s contact once more in a desperate attempt to reach him. However, the dimming lights indicated that it was too late. Connor laced their fingers together, offering apologetic eyes and a tight-lipped smile; they would have to nurse a broken heart later tonight.

_____

Harry was in the middle of buttoning his patterned shirt, staring at his reflection in the mirror to silently judge his fashion choice for the night. Was it too much for a kids’ ballet recital? He deemed that it was, stretching his arms to remove the fabric adorning his chest, moving to grab the pink, flamingo patterned shirt instead. He took his time, granted that he had about an hour before the recital started.

He smoothed the fabric over his broad shoulders, pausing when Camille walked in. Harry locked his green eyes at her through the mirror as she walked to their shared bed, sitting at the foot of it.

“What d’ya think?”

She hummed in response, absentmindedly nodding in agreement when Harry asked if it was good. Both Camille and Harry had talked about his relationship with Halo as soon as she landed at the airport. He didn’t want to keep any secrets from her. Fortunately, Camille was very understanding of his situation, offering him support and encouragement to build a bond with his daughter.

What Camille didn’t reveal was that she was a bit antsy of Harry’s relationship with Y/N. She meant everything she had said to him, but it was no guarantee that Harry would ignite another connection with his ex-girlfriend. Not that Camille didn’t trust him. It was just a bit concerning because she believed that how a relationship starts is how it will end. Harry certainly had a history of straying away from his present partner.

Harry was currently in their walk-in closet, finding a pair of slacks that weren't too formal or casual. Camille mulled the thoughts in her head. She loved Harry dearly and would do anything for him. Well, anything except having children of their own. He had mostly accepted her decision, only wincing a little when the topic of a family was brought up by mutual friends and family once in a while.

Truth to be told, Camille was scared. She was afraid that Harry would leave for Y/N because she had Halo. They were the family that he had always wanted and although Camille wasn’t too keen on giving him the same; she was debating on it.

“How’s this, Cam?” Harry retreated with two pairs of pants. On one hand was a pair of straight-leg skinny jeans that he hadn’t worn in years. The other held brown, corduroy, striped slacks. “Or this one?”

She bit her lip, standing up slowly, walking over to him. “What do I think?”

He nodded, innocently jutting his bottom lip at her as he looked back and forth.

Camille swathed her hands on his shoulders, ghosting her mouth over his ear, “I think I like you better without them,” Her finger traced his collarbone, swirling at the dip of his throat. “Without anything,”

Harry gulped harshly. He felt Camille unbuttoning his shirt, gliding her palms downwards until she was cupping his bulge, “Camille, wait,” He flicked his watch to check the time. It took twenty minutes to get there, maybe even more with traffic and parking.

She dragged him to the bed by the ends of his opened shirt, locking her lips with his plush ones. He rested a knee on the mattress, his hands at the back of her head as Camille continued to pull him down.

Pulling away, Harry panted, “What are you doin’?” He laid his creased forehead on hers.

Camille supported herself on her hands, moving her face back until she was able to get a clear view of his perplexed expression, “I was thinking that maybe we could. . . try having a baby, H,” Her voice was soft, almost timid and she was doing her best not to break eye contact to show her sincerity.

Harry gasped in surprise, “Wha--? Really? Are you serious?” His tone gained a pitch as excitement enthralled his senses. The smile on his face was wide and reached his bright eyes. “Baby, are you sure?”

Camille nodded, grinning softly. “Yes,’

“Oh my--this is. . .,” Harry pulled at the locks of his hair, pacing around the room. “This is great! Our own family. Jesus. I can’t believe it,” Tears sprung on his corneas.

He kneeled between her legs, taking her wrist and pressing a gentle kiss on her skin, murmuring ‘I love you’ repeatedly.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” Camille asked, spreading her legs rhetorically. Harry observed her position, nodding enthusiastically.

Another glance at his watch indicated that Harry was absolutely pushing it with being late to Halo’s recital. Yet one enchanting kiss from Camille wiped his thoughts clean. He was getting what he wanted; a family of his own.

___

Let us know what you thought! The seventh part of the Tarnish series will be uploaded on Patreon on Sept 29!

___

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[bbugyu]

can i kiss you yet? + hong joshua

a mutual friend always made a great excuse to see you, but he definitely wanted more.

wc.2.4k | joshua x gn!reader, fluff, first snow au, foreigners in korea squad up, josh is a tutor u are an ambiguous worker everything is vague shhh, there are really no warning this is just fluff, oh drinking, but only the once, miss park chaeyoung please text me back

haha..... i am....... im not........... im in my joshie feels ok do not talk to me about it im embarrassed. thanks @babiemingoo for ruining my life by saying joshua would fall in love with me, and i quote, "no cap."

~

you spent a lot of time with joshua. by proxy, mostly, but you enjoyed his company nonetheless. your best friend called him her brother - they weren't related by blood, but by circumstance, having separately moved to korea at an old enough age to take care of themselves but young enough to still need the support of someone going through something similar. they were neighbors, and rosie had no way of stopping him from barging through her front door at all hours of the day. she always yelled at him to let her have some privacy. he insisted that if she was doing something that required privacy, then she should tell him beforehand. you always just laughed from your spot on the couch.

joshua would smile and put up a hand when he pretended to notice you for the first time, as though you weren't the express reason he had made an excuse to show up. "hi, y/n."

you would smile back and wiggle your fingers at him. "hi, josh."

this happened almost every time you came over to rosie's apartment, and while you never intended to see him, you would be lying if you said it wasn't a lovely benefit.

she rolled her eyes. "don't you have a job?"

"that's the great thing about being an online tutor," joshua said, making himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from you. "flexible scheduling."

you realized you had never asked him about his work. "what do you tutor?"

he looked at you, and you thought you saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes before he grinned. "english. and korean. and algebra. and calculus, sometimes."

"that's, like," you paused, your head knocking to one side. "impressive?"

"is it?" he laughed. "i just voice chat with high school students in sweats."

you shrugged. "i'm bad at math and i'm pretty sure i'd be bad at teaching, so anything like that is impressive to me."

he nodded, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. it was hard for him to believe that you could be bad at anything, but he figured math was an okay thing to be lacking in. "noted."

rosie coughed loudly, making you both direct your attention to where she was leaning against the kitchen counter. "if you guys are done, i would love someone's help deciding what kind of pizza to get."

when you left hours later, rosie asked joshua why he even came over, trying to imply that he was taking too long to admit he liked you.

he pouted out his lips and shook his head. "no reason. i just heard you talking to someone and wanted to make sure you're not inviting over weirdos."

she gave him a sideways glare, knowing that if that were the truth, he would have come over when mingyu showed up the day before. or wonwoo last week. or any of her other friends that frequented her studio apartment. but conveniently, he only ever barged in when it was you, and she had a suspicion that it was because he had learned to recognize your laugh through the thin walls.

the first time you ever met joshua, it was at a bar. you and some work friends had agreed to get drinks together, and when your coworker-turned-bestie got a call from her neighbor saying she got a package, you nudged her.

"is he your oppa, like, just a guy, or like a boyfriend?"

she squinted at you, registering your language switch "ew! oh my god, he's just a guy. he's like a brother."

you heard an indignant noise over the line at her exclamation, and you giggled as you guided the straw in your cocktail to your lips.

"am i lying, joshua?" rosie said, rolling her eyes. "are you not like my brother?"

"joshua?" your eyebrows quirked up, realizing he had an english name, and only processing after the fact that he also understood her. "is he like us?"

"foreign?" rosie asked, looking at you. "yeah, he's from la."

you looked at her expectantly. "well, is joshua free tonight?"

she laughed at you, but redirected the question over the phone anyways, then promptly invited him out to join you at the bar, and he said he could be there in 45 minutes. he arrived with 6 minutes to spare (not that you were watching the clock, but you totally were), and rosie waved him down to join your table, quickly introducing him to the coworkers you had deemed fun enough to hang out with.

"and this is y/n," she said, grabbing your arm. she leaned over to joshua, pretending to whisper. "the other foreigner."

you laughed and shook his hand, saying it was nice to meet him. he smiled back, warmly, and returned the sentiment. he was korean, you realized, despite being from america, and he was incredibly handsome. like, absurdly so, in a way that felt impossible in reality, yet here he was, gaze flickering over your face as you brought your (new) drink to your lips, and the liquid almost caught in your throat when you saw an entire galaxy twinkling in his eyes. you blinked when he went to get a drink, thinking you must be drunker than you thought to have mistaken the reflection of the fairy lights that littered the bar as galaxies, but for some reason, your initial impression seemed to suit him more.

months later, you went to rosie's apartment just to drop off some food - you were teaching yourself how to make korean side dishes, and she volunteered to be your auxiliary food tester if you made too much, which, big surprise, you absolutely did. she made fun of your cooler bag and your big puffy jacket, saying you reminded her of the grandma down the hall, and you laughed heartily as you made your way to her kitchen.

she had an essay to write, so you didn't stick around. shortly after you announced your leave and exited to the hall, the next door opened.

"oh," joshua said, hand still gripping the handle of his front door as he made surprised eye contact with you. "you're leaving already?"

you pursed your lips to hide a smile, wrapping your scarf around your neck. "already?"

"you usually, um," he paused, his hand going to the back of his neck, the other pushing into the pocket of his jeans. "you're usually around for a few hours."

you giggled. "i was just dropping off some food, rosie has an essay to write."

he puffed out a cheek and nodded slowly as he let it deflate. "i guess i shouldn't bother her, then."

you watched him avoid your gaze, then peeked slyly past him into his apartment. you had never been, but it looked neat. neutral. comforting. it seemed like him.

the jig was up, joshua thought, studying your eyes briefly. you clearly knew he only ever barged into his neighbor's apartment because you were there. he had obviously just given it away, but maybe you had always known, and you had just let him think he was convincing when he said he had no idea you were over. but maybe he was okay with that, because you never complained. and maybe that meant you liked seeing him, too.

"are you busy?" he asked suddenly. "i don't mean to keep you, but-"

you shook your head quickly. "i don't have plans."

"uh," he turned to his apartment before looking back at you briefly. "let me grab a jacket, i'll walk you home."

you couldn't help but smile. "okay."

joshua made sure he was quick to get his winter coat and a scarf, but instinctively adjusted his bangs in a mirror and checked his breath. he silently scolded himself for making this out to be something that it wasn't - he was walking you home, not taking you out. but he hoped he would work up the nerve to ask before the end of the walk.

"ready?" you asked, pushing off the wall you were leaning against as you waited.

he smiled at you, silently hoping he was. "yeah, let's go. it's gonna start getting dark soon."

when the two of you exited the apartment building, hands shoved into pockets, joshua commented that it felt like it was gonna snow.

"i think the forecast said tomorrow," you mused, looking up at the overcast sky.

he stared at you as you walked beside him, your lips curved upward in a vague smile as you thought about how much you liked the snow, and when you looked over and caught his gaze, he redirected his eyes just a little too late, then laughed at his own behavior. "sorry, you looked really cute just then."

you couldn't help but smile, nuzzling down into your scarf to hide it. "as opposed to normally, when i don't."

"not what i said," he defended immediately. "i think you always look cute."

you giggled into your scarf, hoping he couldn't see how flustered you felt. "thank you. i think you always look cute, too."

you caught a small smile sneak onto his face as he looked down at his shoes. "thanks."

joshua had never once seemed shy to you. a little hesitant, maybe, when you had first met him, but he exuded confidence. you got the impression that he knew himself better than anyone, and he was happy to express himself genuinely around people that accepted him. he was a bit of a smooth talker, you thought. he had a way of saying exactly what people wanted to hear, whether it was true or not. but today, now, he seemed genuinely reserved. quieter. like he wasn't quite sure what to say to you as you walked side by side on the sidewalk, headed to your apartment.

"what kind of food did you bring to roseanne?" he asked, trying to fill the quiet.

"standard fare," you said, smiling at how he used her full name. "kimchi, seasoned beansprouts, sweet potatoes, fishcakes."

"oh, korean?" he asked, looking at you. "i didn't know you cooked like that."

your lip quirked into a smile at the reaction. "i'm practicing. gotta please a korean husband if i wanna get a permanent visa, y'know."

"right," he said, nodding at your joking tone. "a korean husband."

you blinked, eyes focusing on something in the air, then looked up. "oh my god, is it snowing?"

joshua tore his gaze from you, looking around at the flakes that were gently falling from the sky. "i told you it was gonna snow."

"but the forecast said tomorrow!" you laughed, pulling a hand out of your pocket to try to catch some flakes. "has it snowed yet since new year?"

his heart fluttered lightly as he watched you shove your hand back into your pocket. "no, not yet."

you looked over at him and giggled at how much snow had gathered on his dark hair. "oh, jeez, it's starting to come down." you reached out to him, brushing some flakes off his bangs, and he hoped you thought his ears were just red from the cold. "if we don't hurry, you're not gonna be able to walk home."

that wouldn't be the end of the world, joshua thought. maybe if the snow fell heavy enough, you would tell him to sleep on your couch instead of trekking home. maybe the two of you could chat, alone, just enjoying company until too late in the night. and maybe your heating would go out again, like you often complained about, and maybe the two of you could wind up under the same blanket as you got sleepier.

"do you know that belief?" he asked, glancing at you as you walked. "what koreans say about first snow?"

you looked over to him. "no," you said shortly, switching to korean. "what is it?"

he laughed, but continued in english. "they say that if you're with someone during the first snow of the year, you'll stay together for a long time."

you stopped in your tracks, and he only made it two steps in front of you before he turned, looking at you questioningly. "together?"

he gave a short affirmation, blinking and looking away as he shifted his stance. "yeah, like-" he paused. "supposedly, if you confess during the first snow, it's good luck. or something like that."

you stared at him, studying his eyes as he avoided your gaze, a tiny smile creeping across your face. "josh."

he looked at you, eyebrows quirked. "w'sup?"

you giggled. "are you talking about us right now?"

"oh, are you confessing to me?" he asked, eyes wide and making you laugh as he slowly closed the short distance between you. "confessing during the first snow, wow. you must really like me. y'know, i always kind of thought you had a crush on me."

you rolled your eyes. "yet it took you four months to mention it?"

his nose scrunched up as he grimaced apologetically. "i'm sorry for making you wait," he said, quietly and in korean, close enough that you felt his breath on your skin. you just shook your head at him.

"i made you wait, too."

he looked between your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel like the snow was melting around you from his warm you felt. "can i kiss you yet?"

you let out a breathy giggle, enjoying the way his eyes creased as he smiled at you. "of course you can."

this moment, joshua realized, was one that he had imagined a million times in his head. in a million different scenarios throughout the last four months, he had imagined how incredible it would be to feel your lips against his. and when he finally found himself there, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pulled you into him, the first snow of the year falling around you, he realized he had imagined it all wrong. because despite thinking that you definitely had the most beautiful lips that he could ever press his to, he had not accounted for the fact that you were smiling, and he was too, and that made them the sweetest. the most fun. the most exciting.

and he hoped you would let him keep kissing you for a long time.

[elviehun]

So.

The Old Witch Sleep.

(TRIGGER WARNING: depression, self-hate, mention of potential self-harm maybe, mental issues galore.)

I don't music, and these are only MY ideas of the song's message, Im not pretending they're the artists' opinion or anything.

So it.Just... SLAPS both my faces so hard. It has this "thing enclosed in another thing" structure. And as it turns out, I'm at the incredibly fortunate place of a transition from a high to a low right AFTER the dizzyingly swift transition from a low to a high and that's fucking awesome because I've been my own sick experiment this time!!! Yay! So my point is that NOW I know why this was the one that crushed my chest the hardest from the first listen! It's because its like the god Janus all in itself. (like most bipolar people I know, that's a pattern I tend to see into every possible thing lol, bear with me)

What I mean is there's everything in it! Both sides! All the paralyzing shackles and figurative self punches and overflowing cups of searching-for-meaning and the pathetic play of pretend and the SPINNING, all that spinning around. Even without looking at the lyrics, just the pacing would be enough. That 'there's no in between' duality: of the resigned-slash-desperate navel gazing of the first half AND the holding-back-naught release of Joey's booming voice in the second. The contemplatively plucked single fucking guitar. Those goddamn shamanic gut-shaking delirious motherfucking DRUMS. The fact that the only transition from one to the other is practically like, one breath? Let me just laugh the ugliest bitter old hag cackles of 'that, children, is exactly how it is'.

Also, sleep/oblivion (my beloved) as a witch, who COULD have uncanny powers ONLY IF we believed in them, ahhaha, how fucking perfect is that, Joey, my love?! Alas, here she's just a powerless, pleading, vaguely motherlike whisper trying to comfort (talking about the millions who know how to play - telling me they're just shadows, they can't stay etc., i interpret this as if the Witch was trying to convince us that the 'normal' people aren't better at this life-thing either, they're just better at ignoring it) but not really succeeding.

Then "you are in the earth of me". The gentle slap in the face. At first I thought that's a bitter resignation to the fact that the storyteller can't get rid of their demons, but on second thought it feels closer to the main theme of the song, which is "I'm not trapped with you, you see, you're the one who's trapped with me". To which I'll get back to in a minute, right after I've bowed a head to the Good Man Grace, who, as a last resort, bless him, tries to yank us back from the edge admitting that yes, we're beaten and broken, but that doesn't mean we're weak. He wants us to fight. Or at least die honourably, trying. He believes in us, but sadly the feeling is not mutual YET. It's a process, and we're not there yet. First another -how brilliant is that!!!- shard full of glass, another kick in the ass from the normies. THAT might be the step we need to do what follows.

So back to where we grin the bittersweet "I'm not trapped with you, you see, you're the one who's trapped with me". As in, okay, I guess I'm fucked for life, but I'm at least bringing the Thing down with me too. I can't get away but I'm not alone with that. We're one. It wouldn't even exist if not for me! Imma take this fucker for a waltz, and we'll see who can squeeze the other's neck tighter. Who can spin faster. Who's gonna make the other puke on the floor first. And while it forces me to look at the most disgusting, weak, wretched images of myself in the mirror, I'm also making it watch me. Look at me. Don't you think I look pretty. Don't you think you look pretty.

And then, then we see the scattered pieces that don't fit. Because, yes, after falling apart and standing back up, those pieces, at least some of them, stay where they clattered down on the bathroom tiles. And honestly, fuck the lot of them. We're better without. I'm better without. Stronger. Intimidating even, because I've been there and back several times. I've been weak, but I've learned from it AGAIN ("I see wit"). Yay. Now I'm leading. And if we go down again, I'll clamber back up again and again. I won't shy away from living it through again. I'll take my fucking time.

"That, children, is exactly how it is" cackles yet again.

This is what I see. It's pretty darn scary to think this is more or less my whole life, but also fucking empowering.

How the hell is he doing this.

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Yours truly - epilogue

warnings: food mentions, vague mention of war, a disgustingly sweet happy ending

word count: 2369

a/n: haha! you thought the series was over? well, now it will be. i totally did not cry while writing this, no no. also - i recommend, if you’re reading on desktop, open this on my blog. i recently changed my theme and i think the layout is great for reading.

tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @pandaxnienke ; @messagesinthesky ; @valwritesx ; @pineapplesandpinas ; @sirenswhispers ; @mitsukui ; @4amhotchner ; @theweasleysredhair ; @barneswidow ; @anxxi0s ; @scoobiessnacks ; @unseensilver ; @softlyqoos ; @amourtentiaa ; @anripoot ; @vogueweasley ; @subaehun ; @prismarts ; @harrysweasleys ; @mamawheeze ; @lumos-barnes ; @ickle-ronniekins ; @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11​ ; @dontreallywannabehere ; @28cnn ; @euphorictraveler ; @littlemisswitt ; @onlyfreds ; @latenightmiraclesss ; @weasleygrapes ; @hufflepuffalice ; @slytherclawbitch ; @freddie-weaselbee ; @famdomhideout ; @mollenniumfalcon ; @accioweaslcy ; @lunarlovegoodx ; @weasleysprofessionalhoe ;

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It felt odd. Exciting and nerve-wracking at once.

You tried to go about your day as usual. Occupying your overthinking mind with last bits of unpacking and tidying your room.

The idea seemed strange to your parents at first, that a friend of yours would come by for a visit the day after you arrived back at home. Which, after a month away, to them was equal to knocking on your door as soon as you closed it behind yourself.

It was the first time you had to have that type of conversation with your parents, naturally, it felt awkward. But when you told them the truth, they were respectful.

The hand of the clock on your bedroom’s wall, right above your desk, was getting dangerously close to 1.

You changed your clothes and put your hair up, just to sit behind your desk, having nothing else to do. That’s when the clock really started racing. It was a few minutes to 1 PM when your mum called from downstairs.

It was like nothing else you’ve felt before. Like meeting someone you know so well, and yet a completely new person.

Of course, you knew Fred from school. Who didn’t, at least from the rumours? And you had been one of the people that were on speaking terms with him, sharing a few classes, some mutual friends.

Fred never seemed like the type of guy that would be into you. You didn’t hold any significant feelings towards him back then, to be bothered by it, it was just a fact. You enjoyed interactions with him, nonetheless. Maybe subconsciously, enjoyed the rare attention received from him. And maybe that was the reason you had agreed to give him your address at the end of last term, instead of telling him to sod off.

Since then, you were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a different side of him. To fall in love with him.

And how much has he changed. Not only physically, having his hair cut short and growing yet another few centimetres. The biggest change happened inside.

It was better than he could’ve ever imagined. When he felt all those things while still at school, he couldn’t have expected what would come out of it. Nothing he’s ever experienced was quite like this.

At the end of last term when he realised that - caught up in everything that was happening - he hasn’t made any progress with you, he came up with the idea of writing letters throughout the summer on the spot, running to catch up to you in one of the courtyards. Best he hoped for was some banter, maybe getting to know you a little better. Mostly, just making sure you didn’t grow apart throughout those long, two months – or even worse, start dating somebody else - so that he could properly take action as soon as September rolled around. He couldn’t know he’d fall in completely. Or that you’d fall too. And that he’d be welcomed in by your mum at that very moment.

You waited at the top of the stairs. The bannister you held onto could’ve been the only thing keeping you from collapsing once he appeared at the bottom and looked into your eyes. With that damn smile.

You didn’t know what that moment would look like before it happened. In your head, you wanted to hug Fred, hold him, kiss him. You were in love with him - you wanted all that. But you didn’t know if you could, meeting him for the first time. Would you still want that with a person you hadn’t actually developed any physical closeness with?

But once more, his words came useful, as you realised you had worried unnecessarily.

‘Stop overthinking and enjoy the ride, sweetheart.’ – he advised you a while ago.

So when he ran up the stairs your arms outstretched themselves on their own accord, waiting.

“Hi,” you giggled while he wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up in a tight hug. His emotions exhibited themselves in a spin he gave you. Pressing your face to the crook of his neck, you recognised the scent you knew from his letters before he put you back down.

“Hi,” he replied, finally, pulling away from the hug a bit to look at you once more. His hands still rested on your waist and as he looked into your eyes and both of you thought the same thing. It was the perfect opportunity for a kiss.

Fred swallowed, running his eyes over your face, taking it in.

“Good to finally see you,” he said, standing straight, and you chuckled, letting him know the feeling was mutual.

Seeing Fred Weasley in your room, your personal space, felt odd as well. Once again, the thought of being lucky enough to call yourself his girlfriend (even though the two of you haven’t specified your relationship just yet) appeared in your mind. But he called you that.

And there he was, standing in the middle of your bedroom, looking around. Looking even more handsome than you remembered. You wanted to learn Fred, learn him physically.

He turned back to you and you locked eyes as he caught you with that shy, yet giddy smile on your face. The smile you got back in return made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. With newfound confidence you stepped closer to him and took his hand, intertwining your fingers together. It fit perfectly, like magic.

“See, that’s the wardrobe door I told you about in the letter, that gave me this battle scar,” you told him, pointing at the piece of furniture first, then the faint mark left on the skin of your arm.

Fred didn’t hesitate to take your arm in his hand and brush his thumb over the scar. Apparently, Fred was very touchy. It was exhilarating, but nice. You could get used to that.

“Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” he chuckled. You agreed with him, thinking back to those first few letters you’d exchanged at the beginning of summer. “Oh, that reminds me!” you perked up suddenly. “Make yourself comfortable here, ok? I’ll be just a moment, I have something prepared…” you explained, receiving a nod from Fred, before dashing out the door.

This gave Fred a chance to have a proper look around. He wasn’t invading your privacy since everything he was looking at was out in the open, but it would’ve felt weird, just analysing it in your presence.

Taking a seat by your desk, he could take out much from the objects lying around there. And in the corner of the desktop, sat a pretty box with its lid slightly open. He didn’t want to look, but through the crack, he saw something paper.

“The letters…” he whispered to himself and without further thought slid the box over to himself. There they were, his letters – each and every one of them, placed neatly and chronologically. No one has ever cherished anything received from Fred as much.

“See you helped yourself,” you quipped, having walked into the room with a plate of muffins in your hand. “What if I hid something else in that box? Something real embarrassing?” you asked, walking over to him after placing the tray down on your tea table.

“It wasn’t closed properly, I could see it was letters,” he explained, turning to you. “Unless you’re exchanging letters with some other boys too?” he joked. “You think only boys could be your competition, Weasley?” you swung back, placing your arm at the back of his shoulders with a mischievous smile. “But no, not like with you, I don’t,” you reassured him in the end.

Another moment of meaningful eye contact passed, before Fred changed the topic, noticing the baked goodies. You could watch him stuffing his face for hours.

Still enjoying a muffin, you walked up to one of your cupboards, to retrieve a box with your surprise.

“I’d like to remind you that I’m still very much a beginner with clay so it may be simple, but one day I might make something nicer. If you’ll still want it, of course,” you said, handing him the box. You sat back down on the sofa next to him, with an anxious smile.

He opened the box, revealing a mug, painted with his nickname on the side. His face lit up in a smile. True, it may have been simple, but he could also see the effort you had put into it, and that was enough to melt his heart.

“Do you like it?” you asked in a small voice. “I love it,” he replied simply, still moved by the gesture. He gave you a one-armed hug, still holding the mug in one of his hands – already thinking of using it every day, for as long as it could serve him.

“Ok, let’s not forget,” he began, composing himself, “I promised a surprise for you too.” “You did,” you replied, leaning back against the couch and flashing him a smile.

You watched as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a tiny firework.

“Freddie,” you pleaded, in disbelief of how typical of him that was. “It’s indoor safe, I promise!” he laughed, “I haven’t blown myself up yet, have I?” he asked, looking at you expectantly with his gleaming eyes.

So after a deep sigh, you nodded, allowing him to proceed.

He pulled out his wand and after throwing the firework into the air, lit it up. It was beautiful, golden, pink and white, mesmerising shapes changing constantly. In the end, a sentence appeared, lighting up the whole room, along with your whole world.

Will you be my girlfriend?

“I told you already in the letters how in love with you I am… you said you feel the same. I wanted to make it official,” he said, looking at you now, as the fireworks slowly faded away.

“Yes. Of course,” you answered, positive your heart has melted at the gesture. Your hands reached out a bit awkwardly, unknowing if you wanted to hold his hands or hug him.

Fred leaned close to you and placing his hands on your waist, kissed you.

Was true love really magic’s work, or was Fred just a really good kisser? You couldn’t know that, but you also couldn’t care less as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. You just never wanted to kiss anyone else, and kiss only him, for as long as you both shall live.

He was delicate and loving, one of his hands moved to the side of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb as he kept placing soft pecks on your lips, unable to pull himself away.

“You’re intoxicating,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you on the forehead, then sitting back straight. “I could tell you the same thing,” you replied, dumbfounded.

“I got something else, too…” Fred admitted sheepishly, diving into his pocket once more to retrieve a small box. He opened it in front of you, revealing a bracelet – a dark, simple, aesthetical string with a small shape attached to it. A tiny, silver envelope.

“It’s beautiful, Freddie,” you whispered, brushing your finger over the metal. “I’ve got one too, so if you want-” he began, taking another bracelet out of his pocket, without a box this time, but you didn’t wait for him to finish.

You took your bracelet out of the box and gestured for him to help you tie it, then took his, and tied it around his wrist. You were admiring the view, when Fred interrupted you.

“Want to see something cool?” he asked you with a smirk, then took your bracelet hand in his and you watched the pendant emit a soft, magical glow.

“You really are a romantic, Fred Weasley…” you stated.

“You made me one.”

You’re probably wondering what happened next, dear reader? Very well, I can’t just leave you hanging. After all, it would be a dishonour to cut off this beautiful story of Y/N and Fred’s love like that. And what a beautiful love it was.

That September was the first time the both of them were that happy to get back to school. It allowed them to see each other every day, after all, even if Y/N took quite a few more classes than Fred. They quickly realised what they had was more than just a school romance. They used their last year at Hogwarts to its fullest, before Fred took off with his twin brother and Y/N graduated, according to plan, in June.

The current state of the wizarding world meant Y/N had to put her career plans on hold, but she was happy to help Fred and George in their shop instead.

As Fred had Y/N’s promise, to help him with raising a puppy – they adopted one together, one that they both fell in love with at first sight. The dog later proved to be a valid, contributing member of the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes.

Their relationship flourished, they complimented each other perfectly, supported each other during the war when they both needed it most.

After Voldemort had been defeated and Y/N got her dream job, she and Fred decided to rent a nice, comfortable flat in London. Just like they planned, they used a lot of their time off from work to travel together – taking their dog with them whenever they could. It was during one of their trips, when Fred proposed to Y/N, with a crazy, elaborate scheme.

They got married in a simple, yet beautiful ceremony, surrounded by loved ones. They had three children – two girls and a boy.

When Fred’s business started doing really well, they moved to a ridiculously charming old house, but in England, so that he could focus on his family more. How did they spend their days? I’m sure you can imagine. And when they retired, their lives slowed down, just a tiny bit.

But Fred Weasley remained a romantic, even as they were both old and grey. And the act of exchanging letters remained special for them, throughout all of their happily ever after.

The end.