#flowery is not a good life coach

[st-froy]

Doodles + some old art ( can u tell which undertale character is by favorite lol): I love drawing papyrus so much that I gotta draw him as inconstantly as possible; so many styles

[wlntrsldler]

Hi!! For ur song challenge could you write cinnamon girl with Jamie Tartt 🤍

cinnamon girl | jamie tartt

based on the song cinnamon girl by lana del rey

description: your ex did a number on you. now you're letting the ghosts of your past control your relationship with jamie.

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (she/her)

warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did you expect?; sad!jamie, insecurities, miscommunication-ish, emotionally abusive ex

word count: 4.2K

ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist

In your last relationship, your ex constantly made you feel replaceable. At first, it started out as snide remarks from his friends that he laughed at, never once defending you or your relationship. 

“Oh, Y/N, be careful with that one, nobody can tie him down.” 

“He’s slippery, girl. Keep an eye on him.” 

“You’re his girlfriend? Wow, props to ya. I couldn’t ever commit to someone like him.” 

You tried to brush it off, ignoring the sting of his laugh after each comment. He didn’t even deny it. And the worst part? He would make comments comparing you to his exes even without the presence of his friends. You knew how he was. When you first met him, it wasn’t lost on you how he flirted with everyone and everything that would let him. You knew he had history, which you’d later on find out was not history, but more of an ongoing thing, with the people in his inner circle. 

You felt stupid for staying in that relationship for that long. You knew what he was doing and what he was saying wasn’t okay, but you had been stuck in the cycle for so long that you were convinced that nobody else would put up with you the way he does. That was until you accepted a job as a Business Relations Assistant at AFC Richmond. 

It was weird at first to be surrounded by strangers who cared more about your well-being than your partner of a year and a half did. Since Higgins introduced you to the crew, you received “How ya doing, Y/N?” in passing from Sam, hugs as a form of good morning from Dani, and the occasional grunt– complimentary, not derogatory– from Coach Kent. It was simple, little things, but these moments of care and acknowledgment came without an expectation of something in return. They simply wanted to make you feel welcome.

Your love life before dating Jamie was a mystery to the team, Jamie included. They didn’t even know that you were dating someone for so long until Keeley came into the locker room to tell the boys to be extra kind to you since you were going through a breakup. Shaking off their initial shock, the team agreed to shower you with love when they saw you after Isaac gave them an aggressive in tone, yet filled with flowery words about how you were a great addition to the team, pep talk. 

By this point, you and Jamie had built a solid rapport, somewhere between acquaintances and friends. You were courteous when you’d run into each other at Nelson Road, even walking side by side until your paths diverged, often talking about the lovely, or horrific, weather you were having. During bus rides to games, he would sit on the window seat beside Sam, in front of you, and would always ask you to be the tie-breaker for one of his many ridiculous polls. You’d always end up siding with him, not because you agreed, but because Jamie grins up at you like he just won the lottery. Even though you didn’t agree that burgers were better than pizza, you’d say they were just to be on the receiving end of one of Jamie Tartt’s award-winning smiles again. 

It took you a while to open up to people again. Your life revolved around your partner and that meant that many of the friendships you had faded in the background while you were with him. But after the breakup, Keeley and Rebecca played a huge role in helping you step out of your comfort zone. They listened to you talk about your relationship as often as you wanted until you were out of words and out of cares. These talks would happen over a glass (or ten) of wine in Keeley’s living room with some sappy romantic comedy playing on mute in the background. For the most part, you had forgotten about your ex. Soon enough, you were saying yes to invites from Isaac or the coaches for team outings.

That’s how you found yourself kissing Jamie Tartt on your front porch after a night at Ola’s. 

When you pulled away, a goofy smile plastered on your face, you saw Jamie’s flushed cheeks that he tried to hide by pretending to cough into his elbow. You shoved his shoulder playfully, unsure if this was just a cruel dream that you’d have to wake up from soon or if this was real life. 

Jamie, who seemed to be thinking the same thing, realized that this was real life when your hand met his shoulder. Feeling more confident, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer once more. He whispered against your lips, “Been wantin’ to do that for a while.” 

“Yeah?” You asked in shock. You would’ve never guessed that Jamie liked you in that way. “I never noticed.”

“Sam was right,” he chuckled, shaking his head that he was bringing up his teammates while he was inches away from a pretty girl’s face, but he knew he had to tell you this so you knew how serious he was about you. You weren’t just a one-night stand and this wasn't an "I had too many drinks tonight," mistake. “I’ve been flirting with you for ages. Sam said that you were oblivious to it but for a while, I really thought you just didn’t fancy me back. I’m really glad that I was wrong.” 

“I had no idea you liked me.” 

“Are you joking?” he scoffed, grinning widely. It was the same smile he shared with you on many bus rides. “Why do you think I always ask those stupid questions on the bus? I couldn’t give two shits about whether or not the team preferred Chinese or Italian food, or if they put both socks on first and then their shoes, or one sock and one shoe at a time. I only made those up so I had an excuse to talk to ya. Have a whole notes app full of questions and everything.” 

You threw your head back laughing, imagining Jamie deleting questions that he already asked you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “You could’ve just talked to me, you know.” 

“Yeah, but you make me nervous,” he blushed, the tips of his ears turning bright pink. “You’re really pretty and proper fit. Plus, you never call me stupid even when my questions are fucking dumb. You’re always so nice to me and you’re loads of fun.” 

You cocked an eyebrow, trying to make sense of the situation. Jamie Tartt was nervous to talk to you? “Jamie, you do realize you’re a world-class footballer, right? Like rich and famous and can get anyone you want?” 

“That don’t matter to me,” he said, shrugging. “Want you, that’s all.” 

It was a strange feeling to hear that from him. You haven’t been wanted in a long time, at least not like this, not in the way that Jamie was looking at you like you are somehow the most incredible thing he’d ever have the privilege of getting to see. He looked at you like he was thanking whatever deities were responsible for reincarnation for allowing him to experience you in this lifetime. If the next fifty lifetimes were filled with nothing but suffering for him then so be it, as long as he had you in this one. You haven’t been wanted this purely before– wanted for who you are and not for what you can offer, not for the potential of what you could be. 

You kissed him again. 

Six months after your first kiss, you and Jamie were going strong. So far the relationship has been a secret to the public and the media. The team, though, found out a month into your relationship when Jamie got injured during training and you ran out of your office onto the pitch, ignoring Beard’s confused remarks as you sped past him. 

Jamie was lying on the pitch, forearms covering his eyes, trying not to think about the shooting pain from his ankle. You shoved Jan Maas and Richard away from Jamie, which made them protest, but quickly understood why you were in such a hurry to get to Jamie. You kneeled beside him, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, “You doing okay? How bad does it hurt?” 

He moved his arms at the sound of your voice. His eyes met yours and he immediately reached for your hand, threading your fingers together. “‘M okay, I think. Ankle hurts like a bitch, though.” 

You continued to tend to him as much as you could but quickly remembered that you two weren’t alone. Your eyes widened as you began to look around the circle that was forming around you and Jamie. 

“Fuuuuuuccckkkkk,” Jamie mumbled, realizing that you two now revealed your relationship to the team. He looked at you apologetically, “Sorry, bub.” 

“Oi, Bumbercatch!” The team’s attention shifted over to Isaac who had a smirk on his face. He held out his open palm, “You owe me ten pounds.” 

The team erupted in cheers, almost forgetting that Jamie was indeed hurt and would probably have to sit out a game or two. You looked down at Jamie and shrugged your shoulders, “Seems like they’re taking it well.” 

He laughed, propping himself up to sit up, “I’m glad we told them.” 

“Me too,” you replied, pressing your lips together. 

“I’m going to fucking gouge my eyes out.” You heard Roy say, though there was a hint of a smile in his voice. In sync, you and Jamie held up your middle finger in Roy’s direction, which earned the both of you a signature Roy Kent grunt in return. 

Much like your reveal to the team, your reveal to the general public was also just an accident. You were spending the weekend at Jamie’s flat as part of your six-month anniversary celebration. You just pulled up to his place, using one hand to unlock his door with the key he had made for you, and the other hand was used to carry in your large duffle bag. You heard him speaking in his living room and assumed that he was on a call with one of the lads. 

“Baby, I’m here!” You called out loudly, hanging your coat on his coat rack by the door. You walked toward his living room to find him staring at you wide-eyed, jaw hanging low. You giggled, “What’s wrong, love?” 

“I’m on Instagram live.” 

“Oh shit,” You mirrored his expression, facepalming. “I’m so sorry.” 

On Jamie’s screen, hundreds of comments about the interaction began to pop up. 

Holy shit???? Who was that?!!!

Jamie has a girlfriend!!!!! NOOOO THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!!

Does that voice sound familiar to u guys? I think that’s Y/N, I recognize her voice from Keeley’s stories. 

Jamie looked at you, trying to figure out what the best course of action was. You tilted your head as if asking, “Should we just do it?” He nodded, a huge smile taking over his features. 

“Well,” he began. “Cat’s out of the bag, I suppose. Get in here, love.” 

You spent the next thirty minutes answering questions from his fans on Instagram live. Some of the team even joined for a few minutes to fangirl over your relationship in the comments which made the two of you laugh. The next day, Jamie decided that it was time to make your relationship Instagram official by posting a photo from your anniversary dinner. It was a picture that cut off right above your lips, still giving a hint of anonymity, although many people already knew. You had your glass of wine in a cheers motion with his own. The caption read: “just us two. happy six.” 

The picture got more than two million likes in the first hour and hundreds of comments speculating who the girl in the picture was. You decided to comment on the post the day after, hoping that most of the hype around it was calming down. You rolled over Jamie’s side of the bed, smiling softly as he slept peacefully. 

You commented, “just us two (and the entire afc richmond team, including the coaches and admin) (so really just us two and fifty people). love you beyond words.”

You stayed in your little bubble of love for the rest of the weekend. After your social media launch, you stayed off the internet until you got back to work on Monday. When you finally checked social media, you were surprised to find that most of the public’s opinion of your and Jamie’s relationship was positive. However, there was one tweet that caught your eye. 

“Y/N Y/L/N is strong tbh. If my partner had the history of Jamie Tartt, I’d sleep with one eye open to keep an eye on him.” 

You frowned. You knew Jamie wasn’t like that. He would never do that to you, at least not now. He talked to you about how he used to be before you met him. He talked about how shit of a boyfriend he was to Keeley, how he was too much of a prick to be friends with the lads, but he also talked about how he grew from that and how he was no longer that person. And you believed him. It’s Jamie, of course, you believed him.

But that didn’t stop those voices in your head from taking over. Voices that sounded an awful lot like your ex’s friends who made those sly remarks. Voices that told you that you were replaceable. Voices that told you Jamie could do better, that Jamie should have better. Voices that drowned out the loving words of your boyfriend who loved you so much it hurt. 

The distance started out subtle. It started with telling Jamie that you had to get to Richmond earlier than normal because you had expenditure reports to look over. He even suggested that he'd go to Nelson Road extra early for you, but you refused. He pouted but reluctantly agreed to let you drive yourself to work instead of him picking you up. Jamie was upset that he no longer got to spend his mornings with you, but he was understanding and knew that it was for your job. 

Then, you started cutting your kisses short. During date nights, which used to be filled with lingering kisses that were surely too heated to be deemed acceptable PDA, you started to give Jamie quick pecks on the lips before pulling away. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he let it go and settled for the short kisses, even though it didn’t feel enough for him. Typically, you’d spend the night at his place after your dates, but recently you’ve been asking him to take you home, blaming the expenditure reports once more. Jamie, trying to be ever-so-understanding, drove you home, and slept in his own bed alone with a frown on his face. 

The final blow for Jamie was when you didn’t sit next to him on the bus to Tottenham. He sat patiently on the aisle seat, craning his neck up to see when you were coming in, as he knew you preferred the window seat. His eyes lit up when you entered the bus, smiling widely as you approached him. 

You refused to look him in the eye as you pointed toward the back of the bus, “Sorry, Jamie. Rebecca wants to talk about something so I think I’m gonna sit with her today.” 

“Oh,” he cleared his throat, trying not to show his disappointment. He didn’t want to force you to sit next to him. Of course, you were allowed to sit with Rebecca. It’s just that he missed you so much. He hasn’t seen you in a few days. You’ve barely replied to his texts. He felt like you were slipping away and he didn’t know what to do. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course. I’ll see you at the hotel, yeah?” 

You nodded, offering him a small smile. He smiled back sadly. When you walked away to sit in the back of the bus, Sam nudged him, asking him to scoot over so he could sit next to him. Jamie felt nauseous, and he blamed it on the fact that he hadn’t sat by the window in months, but he knew the real reason why. 

Throughout the entire bus ride, you kept sneaking glances at Jamie. You couldn’t see him too well being so far back in the bus. Rebecca, who was shocked to see you beside her instead of your boyfriend, was looking at you with a questioning expression. She closed the notebook she was writing in and crossed her arms. 

“Alright, spill,” she tutted, leaning back in her chair. “Why aren’t you sitting with Jamie? What has he done?” 

You shook your head, “Nothing. He hasn’t done anything.” 

“Then why do you look like the living sunlight was sucked right out of you?” You didn’t say anything. Rebecca sighed, rubbing your back comfortingly, “Whatever is happening. You need to talk to him about it. Nothing good is going to come out of you keeping things from him. Trust me.” 

You knew what Rebecca was saying was reasonable. It makes sense to talk to Jamie about things that were bothering you. The thing was, you had already convinced yourself that Jamie would be better off with anyone else but you. It’s not that you thought Jamie would ever cheat on you or compare you to his exes because that’s not Jamie. You knew this. But you couldn’t help but think about Jamie realizing he deserved better than you. 

It will only make things easier on you if you mentally prepare yourself for it. It was inevitable. After all, you were replaceable. 

By the time you arrived in Tottenham, you were feeling more anxious than ever. You knew you were sharing a room with Jamie as it became an unspoken rule since you first told the team about your relationship. You watched as Jamie exited the bus, trailing behind to create as much space between the two of you as possible. After Higgins distributed the keys, you took a deep breath and headed to the lifts. 

Jamie had gone ahead with Sam and Dani since you were standing to the side with Rebecca. In the elevator, Rebecca squeezed your hand in support and offered a kiss on your temple. When you arrived on the 10th floor, you waved goodbye to Rebecca and made your way to the room. 

Jamie was quietly unpacking his things when you walked in. He turned around, eyebrows furrowed and a frown tugging on the corners of his lips. You wanted to walk over and kiss the creases on his forehead away. He cleared his throat, “I can take the couch if ya want so you can have the bed. I know you’ve been working hard on those reports so you deserve a good night’s sleep.” 

“It’s alright, Jamie. I can take the couch. You have a game tomorrow that you need to be well-rested for.” 

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He sounded defeated. “‘M not letting you sleep on the couch. You can take the bed and I can just stay with Isaac or Richard or something.” 

“No, Jamie, this is your room.” You said, standing your ground. 

“No it’s not!” He exclaimed, finally reaching his wit’s end. He stared at you, a look of frustration and brokenness evident on his face. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears from breaking free. “It’s our room! And I just... I just don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. What have I done wrong?”

You took two hesitant strides towards him. Jamie looked at you, hopeful that you’ll touch him again, this time without him making the first move. He missed feeling you draw sweet nothings on his skin with your fingers. Or the feeling of your lips on his jaw as you try to wake him up in the morning. Or the feeling of your arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace. 

You stopped short in front of him. His heart dropped. “You haven’t done anything, Jamie.” 

“So why do you keep pulling away? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages. Like a proper conversation. I haven’t kissed ya in days and it’s killing me. I feel like I’m losing you.” 

It was then, with Jamie staring at you with pleading eyes, that you realized how stupid you were being. You ran to him, broken sobs escaping your body, as he stumbled back, unsure of what was happening. Jamie engulfed you in his arms, kissing your head as he tried to console you. You spoke into his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Jamie.” 

“Hey,” he cooed, pulling you away. He led you to the bed to sit you down. You sat criss-crossed on the bed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You didn’t even want to imagine how much of a mess you must look like right now. He reached over to place a hand on your thigh, rubbing circles to help you calm down. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, hm? What’s the matter?” 

“I’ve been such a dick to you,” you confessed, sniffling silently. You placed a hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze, “I’ve been avoiding you.” 

“Yeah, I gathered that,” he tried to joke, offering you one of those award-winning smiles you were a goner for. “But what I don’t know is why. Talk to me, please.” 

“D’ya remember when Keeley told you guys to be extra nice to me because I’d just broken up with someone?” 

Confused, Jamie nodded his head. “Yeah?” 

“Well, there are things I want to say to you, but I don’t really like talking about it. Took me ages to even open up to Keeley and Rebecca about how bad it was,” you trailed off, looking away. You suddenly felt so small under Jamie’s gaze, like you were unscrewing the top of your head to give him a full view of all the fucked up things in there. You felt so exposed, but you knew you couldn’t keep this from him anymore. It was affecting him now, too. “My ex, he used to do this thing that kind of fucked me up really bad. He used to compare me to his ex-girlfriends and it made me feel like shit. His friends used to make these jokes about how he was a playboy and would probably get tired of me soon or would make condescending comments about me staying with him because they knew nobody could really tie him down. Like I was stupid for being with him or something.” 

Jamie frowned, internalizing your words. He looked down on his lap, lip quivering, “You think I’m like that? Like I’m just playin’ with ya?” 

Your eyes widened. You quickly shook your head, “No, not at all! I just… I was with him for over a year and when you hear those things said about you enough times, you start believing them. I got in my head thinking that you could and should do better than me and it made me pull away from you.” 

Jamie remained quiet, but the expression on his face changed to a more neutral one. You continued, “I figured it would be easier for you to come to the conclusion that you deserve more than me if I gave you the space, you know? I was trying to help you realize that I’m replaceable, but it backfired on me because now you think you did something wrong– which you absolutely haven’t.” 

He sat there, not saying a word, trying to comprehend what you just told him. He blinked, “Babe, that’s absolutely mad.” 

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as a teasing smile made its way to Jamie’s face. He followed suit before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down to lie on the bed with him. He rolled the both of you over so he was hovering on top of you. Jamie nudged your nose with his, “Don’t get me wrong, your feelings are valid. I would kill that prick and his twat friends if you let me, but love, you are everything I’ve ever wanted. You are not replaceable to me.” 

“It’s just hard to hear you when there’s so much nonsense noise in my head, you know?” you whispered, holding his face in the palm of your hand. “Sometimes those pesky voices are just so loud.” 

“Well,” he got up off of you and propped himself next to you. He gave you a cheeky smirk before leaning back. Then in the loudest voice he could manage, he yelled, “I love you! I love you! I love you, Y/N Y/L/N! There is nobody else for me. I love yo-” 

Fearing that he wouldn’t stop anytime soon, you covered his mouth with your hand, laughing loudly at how ridiculous the whole situation was. Jamie’s eyes twinkled with something you’d missed over the last few days and the sound of his muffled chuckles was like music to your ears. You removed your hand from his mouth. 

“Loud enough, do ya reckon?” he joked. Then, he looked at you seriously. He inched closer to you, sighing in relief when you didn’t pull away. “But seriously, love. Whenever those voices come creepin’ back in, just let me know, yeah? Talk to me. I don’t think I can handle another day like that again. It was my own personal hell, to be honest.” 

You wiped the tears from your eyes and nodded. You placed your lips on Jamie’s, allowing your kiss to last as long as possible before you had to pull away for air. You snuggled against him, basking in the scent of his cologne. “I promise I will, Jamie. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

[libidomechanica]

A genius turned with the blue

A ballad sequence

               1

Flowers: then washed up. Don Juan saw     all though not to be, such logic will give pearl and every     cellars of Jerusalem. If she be a work divine;     who, though Ioy her mines of

the alleys, who did not only     in constructed, they will play his shed. Since life’s oblivion,     the sky but for an armour clashed my old guardian,     or woman, and with ease

between the plainly of not I     thinks me your heat to lightened some vexation; nay, marriage     also had not country yields. Equal matches and prest: how     stranger, I wish that love

or leaves, and in mine for clay, you     covered little taper? As may knowe. Our pillow that must     parts of proving far less practised eyes, tho’ I cannot     shed each couple turneth

aside?—What she taut hold? Of attracts     each out-at-elbow peer, or a hymn loud as a flocks     with me the love it more sublime: he love or decline and     sensitive and haste, and

shone soft floating trust the first path     to Auld Lang Syne. So much spirit robb’d of her hunger in     the mount Gilead. My horsemanships, which makes bank of him,     and shalt ca’ me forsworne?

Sits on his tick of land for sweet     fruits of frank to all the villager’s house the shepheards sway     this Wolues, as she nor harm being love must be in’t the     mark of the villagers

quicker, and wanted to want. Appeal     to tell! We see, these and magnifique, that iudge, as the     king sitteth at all … he touches in yours shall knows, is a     man’s kiss, its deep clos’d

o’erawes it. Since then all sun, and     for a debt she e’er drive one lovers, old age in the second     stocks in flowery oleanders, to be endure what     is youth, tops in letters

with banner of blood of mortals,     or soft floating ices, to steal away, and now would have     fallen hem of the story; and sorry I can help descent,     in so harsh, but form

a friend to fields of Europe—can     chaunge my church the Negroes and false in; no end, young people     are to love and beneath his shatter where deaf to ready     now that we love Frankenstein!

Your walk through, and then see to     settle throne! We vanquished, strength, thy holy water fall but     he has done! As those he branch. I am the gold to which     will choose; and stab, a king

how ridiculous. Those became     a Tyranny and papers with share her with regard. Before     full-borne day began, She trees refusing the boughs, from     heau’nly hye? And money.

So rich silks, and thine eyes of     digestion’d ever know him, and scent, by thee in the poor rich     in a case of hay new- fledged beams do show there’—for who had     a sister, daughter in

Friendly Few. And be a thousand     beneath. Had dropt her limbs at noon, while thou my budding was     cursing to stand an hour: come hither: he mighty men. To     make the fair peaceful

citadel, into the wide universes     ceased to touch or soon thy jocund you grew the morning.     If one could make that zeal that treasures the blood, and tears     have no Character was

the grave, Sir. To conqueror William     Curtis is a new news I’ve shunne their silence and scandal     share you won’t success, no doubt in one that despisd, and     as far from the daughter.

               2

Containing, swallows of jewels, the     sprang to reverie, perchant? And mee: now gynneth the more     return their better it,—

so you ignore, so that I owe     thee. The mair they gave thunder’d, I trow, the things transgression     gave me to the first a

fiecer Gripe doth raise thine Friend, O     daughter! This love may be perhaps from a haloed ascends     the same dreams are what’s good

an opener door for hectic     and should be my destines all those disguise, that last year     to thee in private

favourites did end, young herds weep,     with a backward selfe, to fight whose tall and out free the self     must rise, this were brew’d from

cages pull it hight, to make perfume.     For trumpet peace or faded, and all the musk-bull brown     paper bag of pearl and

could be us, last, to feed them     if not I? It language but keep coaches, must a strawberry     should dwindle of a

piece of horse where are oaths of black,     and trickling of long line of thread now? Sometimes have cease trying     this ill ascendant? Changed

is mute—no song of the valets,     staircases, hallways—perhaps from really scarce am fit     for the fury still his

quiuer spends her husband an hour: we     breast told me, stood three in the drowsy hour; forget such succeeds     door; I try to dance,

like their own words that virtue, like     quest, as we once we see, that he fingers. There is not our     soul’s spring at thirty

though this mine; I’ve paid, in their age:     for Reason due; for neuer knewe I louers she fix’d princess—     why not matter foreign

glory shows that wakes their foreigners     cannot quench and concoction, even now, which shows she thou     hast the people doth has

later years, and into these rule     and night. Her proof makes man say, give creeds tempt there is flatter     your wild ecstasy? Kind

of ditches of sheepes blow in     they rose; the sovereign lord, whose about—as my object on     which we bantered little

more right doth lies whose bells to see     us passing the cornice- wreathe through; a woman’s oppressive     nuptial song, in the

stories high woods within my mandate     life so reading his title, built rick. Custom-house, I     see thee the spiders that

piano? It irk’d himself, nor     leave a visits here is Addition move, by form’d with a     small such improve. To take.

Too rare a wall, we call the most     exemplary wife. Deepening they ho the land of Dutchmen     and sail just now a saints.

               3

All night, a noble line, althought.     Pain with the woodbine leaves fall down descends the beryl: his     barren bring that’s romantic, however dempt more cold with     blossoms to the faith is

forced, most fine summer joy! That late     of action, which flashy song that from the night, as happy,     countenaunce. Light upon thinkes you, you say you love thee,     gave you not received me.

               4

No ass so much holds by absent     from the hearts, unutterably mild, to chastity, when     you a debt I owe to

me thou speak of my heart expect     make her bosom is great starres in photography find     weak points in far above!

For its curse, too solemn closed is     greater is past success, or heard: thought; now saw Albion’s setting     around the Soul of

each the three lonely doe darke, since     thousand. From his crammed with allied, bear thine eyes: so short tunes     and Bayona’s holiday!

Of Loue I looked in a Kirtle     of tall glasse: all as further end was Ida by thy life;     but my Rose-tree, and evening

heate? Albeit my years believe,     Deare, like a primal nakedness! Into yon farthest     canto, save your cures for

clay, you complice of harlot, couleur     de rose-bud’s the virtue yielding of the devils who     never in the shadows!

               5

To-night, with boards ere long-stemmed plants     called him, who feast, thrise thee, as cocke of silvery koi swishing     to herself through the

roads sunk low, but mine obscure woodbine     be his sad post-horse; much better than all as Lais how     much alcoves to my garden

inclosed eyes, and on     everywhere is warmth of my little bent. Her climax: ’Oh! Full     of the sphere I seem tame.

[lastfrontierh]

Excessive Skiing New Zealand: The Most Effective Locations For Off-piste, Heli-skiing & Cat Skiing

To complete the magic of the evening, get pleasure from a truly special dessert beverage ready by Jean Noel himself—a native liqueur derived from the wild Génépi flower. This historically medicinal flower is gathered in August from Savoie’s excessive nation, then combined with alcohol and sugar to make a flowery liqueur greatest enjoyed after an extended day of skiing. Never before have we been in a place to supply such worth for money. Customers will get the same great advantages as earlier than, including lodging, raise cross, meals, ski/snowboard coaching, CSIA/CASI membership, and stage 1 exam. In addition, an incredible heli expertise day is now included within the value.

They are additionally so long that a quantity of breaks are taken alongside the method in which to chill, benefit from the view and take a glance at the tracks we’ve laid down on virgin Russian powder (it’s also an excellent excuse for a much wanted rest in most cases). Of course, you must get to the highest of the mountains first, and that in itself is an adventure. We encountered windblown slabs and snow ridges at the Heli skiing exposed tops of some runs, and infrequently bumped into wet, heavy snow lower down the mountain. But to be trustworthy you don’t want physical souvenirs from a ski journey to Kamchatka. This is a spot so in distinction to wherever else on Earth that it's going to sear itself into your memory for the the rest of your life.

If you go for the heli option, look first at the unlikely named Selkirk Tangiers Helicopter Skiing or a cool and safe operation. As in any adventure sport, accidents can — and occasionally do — occur. Safety and survival procedures are important and strictly enforced.

When we design Junior gloves, we set the same high requirements that we do for our grownup glove fashions. Even the smallest palms want gloves that can face up to chilly temperatures, snow, and rain. These kids’ ski and snowboard gloves include features like simple entry, leashes, and reflectors. 14.1 It is important that you've Heli skiing read, and understood these booking conditions previous to submitting your application kind. If you've any queries or questions relating to the document you might be requested to raise these before software.

You’ll have to be a pretty competent skier or boarder as you’ll encounter some steep slopes, significantly on the upper elevations, though difficult pitches seem throughout the 900-metre descent. Classic Austrian powder is the massive draw right here, of course, with the Arlberg region being noted for a few of the driest and deepest snow in the Alps. The Arlberg region of Austria is certainly one of the few regions in the country the place you possibly can heliski, with a drop on the 2600-metre Mehlsack above Lech-Zurs costing from €390 together with information.

With the most helicopter ski options in all of Europe, Switzerland is the place to start if you’re planning on doing a little heli-skiing. Heli-skiing is banned in France and Germany, so in case you have a favorite resort to stay in considered one of these I’m afraid you’re probably out of luck. With longer-than-usual runs, it pays to do not overlook Heli skiing that fitness is essential. Heli-skiing takes lots of effort and even some good skiers is most likely not in perfect form to ski for over two hours, doubtlessly with an extended hike or brief climb in the center. Exploring beyond the tracked-out runs of any ski resort that simply had a giant dump of latest snow is a real deal with.

Heli-skiing features heavily in ski films, even starring award-winning athletes similar to Seth Morrison, Mark Abma and Glen Plake; all of them being skilled excessive skiers. Offering highs, in additional ways than one, that are unachievable with a normal skiing holiday, it’s a great tick within the box for the winter sports fanatic. But you won’t just do it once, you’ll want to go back again and again. Of all mountain activities, heliskiing is undoubtedly one of the prestigious. Trade within the chairlift for a helicopter; and the groomed pistes for a blanket of pristine white snow stretching into the wilderness as far the attention can see. From Alaska’s peaks to Greenland’s glaciers, heli-skiing permits entry to a few of our planet’s most remote slopes.

[sevenfists]

Some Geno research

Here’s a collection of articles and videos I’ve relied on for fic-writing purposes. This isn’t meant to be comprehensive, just things I saved over the years because I found them useful in some way or didn’t think I could easily find them again.

All links to articles are to archived versions to hopefully future-proof to some extent. Some articles are in Russian; Google Translate makes a hash out of them, but you can usually read between the lines.

Let me know if any of the links don’t go where they should!

Childhood & Early Professional Career (Metallurg)

Evgeni Malkin: A Russian tale with roots founded in ice and iron: a flowery overview of Geno’s family history and early life, with some good details about Magnitogorsk

The Interview: Evgeni Malkin: Sportsnet interview with some background about youth hockey (they played cards on the bus) and his growth spurt at 15

Marek Sykora (Malkin's first pro coach): Zhenia was growing up in poverty: “a silent type,” glowing praise of Geno’s hockey, some strong criticism of Geno’s father

Hockey Star Malkin Offers Lock-Down Dinners at Prison-Themed Restaurant

Evgeni Malkin: The boy, the rep …: pre-draft scouting gossip

early scouting info

Crosby is not my competition: gushing about Sid

Christina rolls scandals to Malkin [Russian]: mostly interesting because of the info about Geno’s girlfriend and Mercedes

Let Morozov Be The Top Sniper Because Metallurg Is a Champion!: long interview where Geno discusses Pittsburgh, the Turin Olympics, some details about his family life (including a reference to a girlfriend from Ufa)

I hope Pittsburgh respects my decision: interview about his decision to stay with Metallurg for 05-06

They Decided I Have Enough Strength Left In Me!: rooting for Ovi over Sid in the Calder race… ice cold

The Main Thing is Not To Get Intimidated: interview largely about Turin

I cannot forgive myself for that match penalty against Lecavalier: aftermath of Turin

MALKIN WANTS TO BE IN PITTSBURGH WITH PENGUINS THIS FALL: Sid and Geno gushing about each other before Geno was even in Pittsburgh

(from russianprospects.com which is now a dead website)

Escape to Pittsburgh

Note: This event is thoroughly covered in “Flight.” I’m not going to duplicate sources here and will only provide a few that aren’t included in that primer.

MA1KIN: Escape from Russia: really nice and thorough article from the Pens

Excerpt from Dave King’s book

It’s like Evgeny is under hypnosis: the Russian media was full of hot takes

I have no idea to where my client (Evgeny Malkin) disappeared: interview with Geno’s agent Gennady Ushakov (Genya)

Evgeny Malkin found! Malkin called Magnitogorsk and said he is well: brief comments from Velichkin

You can't force someone to sign a contract at 3am!: interview with Geno and JP Barry (companion to this excellent interview, cited in “Flight” but with a now-dead link) 

Malkin initially denied entry to U.S.: I think I saved this because it has info about Geno’s agent and I was trying to figure out what was going on with his agent hopping in summer 2006

Rookie Year

March of the Penguin: general overview of Geno’s departure from Metallurg, early months in Pittsburgh, and some of the legal proceedings with Metallurg; plus some nice character details like Geno buying a Range Rover

It's official: Penguins sign Russian star Malkin: some details about Geno’s arrival in Pittsburgh

MALKIN HAPPY TO BE IN PITTSBURGH WITH PENGUINS: more details about the early days in Pittsburgh

Malkin beats adversity, is signed, sealed and delivered: more arrival details; ate filet mignon and lobster at Mario’s

To Lemieux’s house on Gonchar’s Jaguar: available translated on Tumblr; good interview with details about Geno’s first days in Pittsburgh

Malkin works to solve language barrier: details about rookie camp, Geno rooming with Besa

Malkin injured in his debut: details about the events of Geno’s shoulder separation

MA1KIN: Malkin reflects on his career and legacy: interview discussing his thoughts/feelings after his shoulder injury

Malkin's landlord also his teammate: interview with Gonch about his new houseguest

"Once in a while, he helps me move the garbage [cans] outside, then bring them back," Gonchar said. "That's the only thing he does."

WITH FAMILY IN ATTENDANCE, MALKIN SCORES AGAIN: Geno’s family came to visit him in Pittsburgh in October 2006

Adventure with Malkin [Russian]: interview from 2007 All Star weekend; one part translated on Tumblr

2009 Cup Era

SECOND ONLY TO SIDNEY: good details about Geno’s 2007 postseason performance, adjustment to the league, card habits

Geno comes out of the shadows

Malkin's friends say he is charming and funny, and the English is coming, slowly.  His buddies and teammates used to chuckle at his replies to their texts, which would usually consist of nothing but a "K", a "$" (they have no idea what that meant), or a "Da", the Russian word for yes.  Now, there are actual words in complete sentences.

Malkin coming out of his shell in third season: details about food, card games, Geno’s poor housekeeping; he moved out of Gonch’s house into his own place in mid-December 2008

Ovechkin-Malkin friendship grows cold: details of the Geno/Ovi feud

Kovalchuk Brokers Ovechkin-Malkin Peace: what it says on the tin

Puck Daddy chats with Evgeni Malkin about the Penguins' playoff hopes, his buddy Ovechkin, Flyers fans and Crosby's critics: Geno would like to be captain someday

Penguins-Flyers blog (April 2009) (I looked for the original Trib article and couldn’t find it on their website, although admittedly I didn’t spend a ton of time searching.)

Priceless quote from Sergei Gonchar in the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review. Evgeni Malkin moved out of Gonchar's home about three months ago. When asked if things are different around the Gonchar house since the League's leading scorer left, Gonchar said no.

"He moved out and my wife delivered anohter [sic] baby. So one baby is out and another is in." 

Transcript: Malkin Russian Radio Interview: discusses the 2009 Cup win, some personal details, and this foolishness:

When I look at a blonde I get more emotions inside of me.

Vancouver Olympics

Forward of the Russian national team and Pittsburgh Evgeni Malkin: I will not be ceremonious with Crosby! [Russian]: long interview with lots of nice tidbits, like Geno reading Akunin, saying he never had an English tutor, bought a Moscow apartment in summer 2009

- some bits of this article are available translated on Tumblr

2011 Knee Injury

Evgeni Malkin: 'My motivation now is very good': lots of details about Geno’s summer 2011 training with Kadar

MVP Season

 Evgeni Malkin Wants His Cup Back: retrospective on the 11-12 season

He was really, really excited about the start of the 2011-2012 season, so much so that when he talked about Sidney Crosby coming back he literally would lose his breath.

2013 Contract Extension

Malkin wants 'many more' years with Pens: talking in January about wanting to stay with the Penguins

Malkin's Heart Stays in Pittsburgh: “my heart pushed me so hard”; details about his contract extension

Malkin has his priorities in place: “started the process of building a lavish house near Sewickley,” oh really?? (he’s lived in the same house since the end of 2008)

Sochi Olympics

Penguins star Malkin angry after Russia's flameout at Olympics: details about Geno’s objections to Team Russia’s coaching

A Talk with Crosby Helps Malkin Break Out of Post-Olympic Funk: the infamous post-Sochi heart-to-heart

Evgeni Malkin denies Sochi Olympics rift with Alex Ovechkin: brief but interesting interview about the aftermath of Sochi

unsourced Tumblr translation: some thoughts about Sid and their relationship after the Vancouver Olympics

 General & Retrospectives

MA1KIN: Malkin reflects on his career and legacy: part of the content for Geno’s 1000th point; nice interview-based article, good general overview of his career

Exclusive interview with Evgeni Malkin: 1000 points, idol Fedorov, Kucherov and Mogilny, Gretzky's records [Russian]: long three-part interview. I don’t even remember what’s in here because there’s so much (part two) (part three)

It boy of May: Evgeni Malkin: details about Geno’s Moscow activities

Malkin: it was harder for mom than for me now [Russian]: “I am modest and shy in life”; his mother worked as a seamstress

Yevgeni Malkin: Americans still ask me if we shoot each other in Russia: 2011 interview with lots of character details including the origin of his cat Dixie

Evgeni Malkin Would Like a Word With You: somewhat corny overview through the 11-12 season

Maxim interview, April 2017: translated from Russian; lots of nice character details

SNC Russia, May 2018: long interview with Geno and Anna with details about the beginning of their relationship

"Ovechkin loves to shock, Zhenya is more modest." Big interview with Kasterova [Russian]: available translated on Tumblr; lots of good insight into Geno’s personality

Miscellany

random sovsport.ru translation: iirc this is from fall 2014 so the reference to his private life is about a pap video of him and Anna getting busy in the Maldives, lol

The many superstitions of Evgeni Malkin: a nice list with sources

unsourced FHM.ru translation: I think this is from 2014 based on when it was posted on Tumblr

unsourced Vladimir Malkin quote about Geno’s personality

Videos: Russian

Evgeni Malkin: The Russian Penguin: subtitled documentary, full of information; a must-watch

Ovechkin, Malkin & Kuznetsov Prank. Mascots Made in Russia: mainly of interest for the behind-the-scenes footage at the very end

Malkin: 71 Questions: subtitled feature filmed at Geno’s house; many useful character details, gives a good sense of his personality; transcript available on Tumblr

Zoom call with Sergachev and Orlov: with transcript/translation available on Tumblr

Гиганты хоккея - Евгений Малкин (Evgeni Malkin): no idea what’s going on here but Geno was interviewed at his house so there’s some good footage

Евгений Малкин: see above

some manner of documentary: again not sure what’s happening but features loving footage of Geno stripping down in the locker room

Evgeni Malkin interview after Penguins' elimination game, playoffs 2019 (in Russian, with subs): pretty long locker room interview, great for getting a sense of how he speaks in Russian

Videos: English 

Note: Many of these are not particularly interesting in and of themselves but serve as references for how Geno’s English has changed over the years.

From Russia With Love: Evgeni Malkin Training Part One: prime gym twink content from summer 2011

5 Questions With Evgeni Malkin

Hockey Night in Canada: The many sides of Evgeni Malkin: a must-watch although I know everyone’s seen it

Evgeni Malkin Home Ticket Delivery: from 2007

Sad Malkin Interview 12/1/08

Evgeni Malkin All Star Game Interview

Pens' Ryan Malone Gets Personal With Malkin, Whitney: worth watching for Geno’s shirt alone

Malkin Interview After Receiving His "A"

Off the Ice: Evgeni Malkin

2009 locker room interview

2009 Stanley Cup Final: CBC Malkin Interview

Evgeni Malkin interview in english post game 10-18-08

Penguins 2009 Preview - Crosby & Malkin: The 2 Headed Monster

Evgeni Malkin meets David Mnatsyan Video - NHL VideoCenter - Pittsburgh Penguins.mp4: from 2010

Evgeni Malkin talks about girls in his rookie NHL season (2006): an actual baby with George Birman translating for him

just like me - Forsberg Malkin - Ch 09 of 11: early documentary with lots of baby Geno footage

Malkin Plays Revenge Prank on Kessel

60 seconds with Geno

Evgeni Malkin at basketball game Pens/Flyers 12/17/09: why did I save this? maybe I was trying to figure out when he got his teeth fixed

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Okay soooo I know that Oberyn is your fave, so I'm going to request our sex god of a Prince. "You'll have to make me." "Oh, is that so?" *evil laugh here* Can't wait to see what my bestie boo comes up with

A/N: I’m in love with Oberyn Martell so thank you for indulging me. :D ILY 

Thank you for every reblog, comment, and like. 

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F! Reader (Little Sparrow) x Ellaria Sand 

Warnings: 18 + Only (Language, domesticity, oral F! receiving, mentions of sexy times) 

Masterlist 

Lemon Tarts 

You stood across from the three little girls, their hands on their hips, just like their father. “Obella, Dorea, Loreza,” you stern your expression, “which of you did it?” 

“What do you mean, Mama?” Dorea asks with a grin; oh, the sly viper had taught his daughters well. Ellaria giggles behind, and you turn to stick your tongue out at her. “Mommy, is she well?” 

“Your Mama is quite well, my love, but she wants to know which of you naughty girls took the lemon tarts from the kitchen?” They look conspiratorially between each other, and you bite your lip to stop the smile that threatens to show. “Come now,” she demands, “Which one of you did it?” 

“It’s a secret,” Loreza whispers giggling, and you drop to your knees, seeing the weak link in the chain with the youngest. 

“What’s the secret, my sweet Dove?” You twirl her dark curls behind her ear, and she leans into your hold, reaching out to hug you. 

“Papa, said we couldn’t tell,” she whispers in your ear, and the smile breaks out across your face. “We caught him in the kitchen eating the tarts, and he shared one with us. He made us promise not to tell.” You giggle and hold her tighter to your chest, standing with her in your arms, her legs wrapping around you like a monkey. 

“Loreza! Papa told us not to tell!” Obella scolds, and you look over at Ellaria with a grin. 

“It seems like Papa has been getting into my sweets; what shall we do to him? I think he will need to be punished for getting into things he shouldn’t be.” You let Loreza down with a kiss on her head, and Ellaria giggles and winks at you. 

“Yes, I think a punishment is in order; why don’t you go find him? He is in the training yards with the girls.” You nod and go over to grab your shawl and wrap it around your shoulders, the rain outside sending a slight chill through the palace. Obella holds your dress and pulls you down to her level, “what’s wrong, my darling?” 

“Please, don’t tell Papa we said anything. We don’t want him to be angry with us,” her tiny voice shakes and she looks close to tears. 

You wrap her in a big hug, “Don’t worry, my darling, your secret is safe with me.” She nods, hugging your neck tighter, which you eagerly return. Each day the girls get older, and one day, they won’t want hugs and cuddles; you must take advantage of it as long as you can. You let go and rise, leaning down to kiss Ellaria gently, smiling when she takes your bottom lip between her teeth and pulls. 

“Make him pay Little Sparrow, he must know how angry you are with him. Don’t let him persuade you away with his flowery words and gentle touch.” You give her another quick kiss and a smile walking over to the training fields. 

You follow the sounds of grunts and groans, watching from the upper deck at the fighters below. Nym and Obara spar in the center a deadly and delicate dance of quick footwork and fists. “Dive Nym!” Oberyn shouts from the corner, “you must be ready to anticipate her every move. Don’t let the fact that she is your sister distract you from your goal.”

Nym watches Obara closely as she circles her like a predator viewing its prey. “Now,” Oberyn coaches, “strike!” You hold your breath as Nym gets a grip on her sister and swings her to the ground, her hands coming out to brace on either side of her head, wrists pinned down. “GOOD! Well done!” he claps his hands together and walks over to the table to drink a sip of wine and pops a few berries into his mouth. 

You clap your hands together, and all three pairs of eyes slowly look up to watch you leaning over the railing. “Well done, girls! You have become such fearsome warriors; you bring such glory to your family, my loves.” They smile at you and mumble, “Thank you, mama”, under their breath, both shy with the praise. 

“What about me, Little Sparrow?” Oberyn shouts up at you with a smile, “no compliments for the one who trains them? You glare down at him, and his smile drops, a worried expression growing on his face. 

“You are in trouble, Oberyn Martell,” he freezes, his eyes widening; you only used his name when you were cross with him. “I know your secret, and I am here to make you pay.” 

“And what pray tell, is this indiscretion I’ve committed, my love?” The girls look between the two of you and quickly realize this is something they don’t want to miss. It takes everything you have not to giggle when they walk over to the table and grab a glass of wine and watch between the two of you like a drama at the theater. 

“It would seem that the lemon tarts I’ve spent hours baking are all gone. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” To his credit, he does look concerned for a moment before he slips on that charming smile, the one you can’t possibly resist. 

He gives a nervous chuckle and rubs the back of his head, “I wouldn’t know anything about that Little Sparrow; maybe some snakes got into the kitchen and took off with your treats. Come down here, and we can talk about it further.” He flicks his wrist down to the spot in front of him, and you scoff. 

“You’ll have to make me.” 

“Oh, is that so?” You nod, and he sighs, removing his outer coat and leaving him shirtless; the golden chain around his neck glistens, his sun-kissed skin making you weak. The girls quickly stand, taking their cups and leave out the side door. “If you won’t come to me, then I guess I will need to come to you.” He walks over to the large column and begins to scale the wall, hands intertwined in the wild ivy growing around the stone. 

“Are you out of your mind?!” you step closer to the column, reaching a hand out for him. 

He stops before your outstretched hand and puts a hand to his chest with a dramatic sigh, “my Little Sparrow, love of my life, please forgive me for eating your delicious lemon tarts. They were positively perfect; I couldn’t resist.” 

You put your hands on your hips knowing precisely what he’s doing. “Are you doing something rather dangerous so that I won’t be cross with you anymore?” He grins, and you scoff, “you’re insane; I should have married the baker’s son. Then I could have had lemon tarts, and a sane man warm my bed every night!” You yelp as he swings a leg over the banister and turn, running down the hall, Oberyn hot on your heels. 

You turn the corner and barrel past servents who giggle as you make your way back in the direction of Ellaria and the girls. The youngest giggle when you scream around the corner, coming to stand behind Ellaria. Oberyn grasps the table and fakes left and right, trying to anticipate your every move. “Papa!” Loreza shouts, watching, “what are you doing?” 

He laughs, reaching for you as you move out from behind Ellaria and try to sneak past him. “It doesn’t seem like your quest has been successful, Sparrow,” Ellaria teases, looking up at you from her book. “It seems like our Prince has the upper hand right now.” You try to run past him, but he grabs you with a shriek and tosses you over his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry little ones, but Mama thought it was a good idea to tease Papa.” You hit his back, and he slaps your ass. 

“What did Mama tease you about?” Ellaria smiles behind the hand covering her mouth, and you try to look around him to flip her the bird. 

“She said she wished she’d married someone else besides Papa. Can you believe that, my little Princesses?” You can’t see the girls, but their shrieks of laughter make you smile. 

“That’s silly!” Dorea jumps up and down, “Papa is the best man there is!” 

You can hear the smile in his voice, “thank you, Princess Dorea, now Papa has to go and remind Mama why she married him, and not,” his voice drops an octave, “some baker’s son.” He turns and you lift your head, reaching a hand out to Ellaria, who shakes her head with a laugh. 

“See you later, my love,” she shouts with a wave, the little girls waving goodbye as they jump around and giggle. 

There is not much dignity when you’re carried over your lover’s shoulder to be punished, and you try to avoid eye contact with everyone you pass—sighing in relief when the doors to your chamber close behind him, yelping as he tosses you on the bed. Oberyn stands above you, still shirtless, still handsome, but with a darkened glint in his eyes. 

He reaches out for you and quickly undresses you, peering down at you with a hunger that no lemon tart would satisfy. He spreads your legs, his big hands sliding up your thighs. “What was it you said, Little Sparrow?” your breath catches as he settles himself before your juicy cunt, “you should have married the baker’s son, so you could have all the lemon tarts you wanted an a-” he draws one thick finger through your folds. “-a sane man warm your bed? Let me remind you what that baker’s son could not do for you, my love.” 

He spends the next several hours reminding you why you chose to be with him over all others. His devotion to your body is unmatched as he makes you cum with his tongue, fingers, cock, and all over your chambers. There’s a pleasant ache between your legs, and the perspiration glows on your skin. The moonlight streams through the open window. Oberyn’s weight is comfortable as his arm is slung across your waist, lips kissing a trail down your shoulder and back up to your ear. “I think we broke our record,” he teases, sucking your ear lobe into his warm mouth. 

You turn and smile, giving him a languid kiss, “yes, you seemed to be quite motivated.” 

“Can you blame me?” he kisses the end of your nose, “you told me you wished to marry another. You’re mine; I needed to prove it.” You giggle and kiss him again, both of you turning when the door swings open. Ellaria walks inside, and you are struck with how gorgeous she is, her breasts spilling over the edges of her dress like a delicious wrapped present. 

“I have a gift for you,” she smiles, presenting a plate from behind her back, a single lemon tart in the center. “The girls and I have been working for hours, trying to get it just right.” 

You clap your hands, not caring that the sheet slips down your body as you coo in delight. “I can’t wait to taste it!” She grins and hands you the dish, your mouth watering as she strips out of her clothes and pulls the sheet away. Her necklace and bracelets click as she spreads your legs and settles between them, Oberyn reaching a hand out to palm your breast. You take a bite of the tart and moan at the perfect combination of tart and sweet, but the moans quickly turn to something else as Ellaria licks your pussy. 

“Wh-what are you d-doing?” you stutter the crumbs from the tart sprinkling down your chest, Oberyn eagerly surging forward to lick and suck them from your skin. 

“Our Prince got to remind you why you chose him, but I wanted to make sure you truly know what you would be missing if you married that Baker’s son. See, I even made you lemon tarts,” she smiles before resuming her kitten licks on your clit, her nails trailing over your hips. 

And fuck, do you never forget. 

Taglist: @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit  @mimimi-stuff  @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501  @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos  @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066 @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @veracruz-djarin @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss  @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031  @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @lunarthoughts

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @lycheemi @purplepascal042 @poubxlle @dreamer-101 @thewayofthemandalorian @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @zannemes @xjaywritesx @mandocrest @petersunderoos96 @notabotiswear @mando-amando @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @ka-x-in @sleep-tight1 @freeshavocadoooo @dinner-djarin @mssbridgerton @prideandpascal @theflightytemptressadventure @notabotiswear @Pintsizemama @pascal-rascal424 @allmahfeels @the-ginger-hedge-witch @soyelfuegoquearde @northernpunk @clydesducktape @a-skov @darnitdraco @spideysimpossiblegirl @jediknight122

Oberyn Martell Taglist: @theatricalbride @meshlamando  @seasonschange-butpeopledont @blufanfictionthings  @queenbbarnes @talesfromtheguild @rpcvliz @evyiione @browneyes-djarin @lips-for-you @midnightzonzz

[aus-from-undertale]

Finished Aus

Kinda rare since most got dropped or they are on hiatus lol

Echotale- a Frans AU where Gaster!Sans and an older Frisk have to fix the underground that got REALLY messed up. The ending is a little bittersweet but I love it so much aa

Caretaker of the ruins- When the protagonist is someone you are rooting to lose, the ending is something to look up for. And oh boy, it was worth it💕

Inktale- it's the backstory of Ink, one of the most famous Sans. Idk if it's fair to put it on this list, but yeah.

Dreamtale- the backstory of Dream and Nightmare :) kinda sad tho ngl :(

UT mob- did I already said this is one of my fav aus? No? WELL THIS IS SO GOOD. I love this type of stories. So I'm so sad it ended, but it's hella cute 💕💕💕

Aftertale- This AU happens after Sans kills frisk and when they reset, he is transported to the Game menu, finding mah boi Geno!Sans. I LOVE THE ENDING aaaa

Playbacktale- Papyrus wants to help his flowery friend get a soul. But Flowey is greedy and fucked up real hard. It's more of a backstory than a completed au but I like that is finished.

Dogs of future past- After a post pacifist route, Frisk, Flowey and a part of an amalgamation wants to save someone who was left behind. The story is cute and the ending is nice. READ IT

Underline- it's an incredible collection of headcanons to the game of Undertale. It's finished and it's honestly so good :D

Sans the Seraphim- after Sans remembered a genocide route, they instantly went to the ruins and killed Frisk after they got out. He took the souls and freed the underground but he changed deeply. It's actually such an interesting AU! The ending was kinda bittersweet but I had so much fun!

Paper Trail- It's a Deltarune AU made before chapter 2 came out. The story is nice, the characters are well written and I really liked the ending, but for some reason, a bunch of people didn't like it :/ well whatever, it's a nice read so you should go for it :)

Underbrushed- a mix between Tangled and Undertale. It's a cute and weird AU with a nice ending :D

Predatortale- In this horror AU, Frisk falls to an underground where everyone is hungry as hell. So no matter where they go, they go running for their life. Its short but its got an ending. So yeah, nice 👍

Drunk!Chara- Chara is regretful, Chara is in love, Chara is drunk. Prepare yourself to wholesome and sometimes bittersweet AU. I felt the ending kinda rushed a bit, but I liked the final scene 👉👈

Bromalgamate- Papyrus got hurt, and Sans in desperation, used DT on him and became an amalgamate with his brother. The backstory is finished so yeah, have fun :)

Darker yet darker- It's kinda of a backstory to how Sand and Papyrus where born and fuck u gaster :/. The ending is really nice tho 💕

Wondertale- it's a mix between Undertale and Alice in wonderland :) I admit I wasn't really expecting much because the writing it's not THAT good, but I actually ended enjoying it more than I expected.

Tidetale- After 100 pacifist routes, Sans was really tired, so to cheer his brother up, Papyrus creates a new mechanical brother to Sans :D

Paper Crane- the backstory of mah boy Paper Crane. It's so goodijtdjhdtuxkhctuuulhfkh💕💕

Chance!tale- it's a AU about Ace and their tragic Au :)

Flowey is not a good life coach- flowey breaking mentally and physically his best friend out of boredom? Daaaaamn :0

Storyswap color- an AU that got another take on storyshift + underswap

Don't have to hide- just short and sweet comic for your reading pleasure :)

Heavenfell - frisk ends up on an edgy underground and decides that these violent monsters are worth saving

Handplate - A take about the creation of Sans and Papyrus and how they came to be. Also gaster is a bitch >:0

Alive- BANGER of an au. DELICIOUS. INCREDIBLE. IM ALIVE IM ALIVE IM ALIVE MY SOIL ROARS FOR THIS!!

[sirfrogsworth]

Cells of Motivation

I was having trouble finding the willpower to check my blood sugar on a regular basis. That’s important because it lets me know if I need to take extra insulin to keep my glucose levels in a safer range. Which helps me keep my toes and not die and stuff. 

So, my bestie Katrina helped me create a spreadsheet to keep track of things. 

I’d take a result, enter it into the spreadsheet, and because we shared it via Google, she could look in and make sure I was pricking myself consistently. 

And if I ever start slacking or forgetting, she yells at me. 

They say negative reinforcement is bad for dogs, but it works really well on Froggies. It’s a good system of accountability that I was sorely needing. 

Willpower is much easier to find when the sweetest, kindest person I know curses at me. 

Katrina also gussied up my spreadsheet with fancy graphs that look a bit like an Excitebike course. 

And on the side she added an array of motivational memes.

We often joke that people on Facebook seem quite motivated by flowery platitudes pasted over a stock image of a sunset. Folks are also fond of the endless supply of fake Einstein quotes that I’m sure some poor person at Snopes is tired of debunking. I predict at some point they are going to have a disgruntled employee who pulls out their final tuft of hair, emails a hastily written resignation to Mr. Snopes, and changes the front page of the website to just this image. 

I am happy to report the spreadsheet has been a success. I’ve been much better about checking myself. Unfortunately Katrina did not account for the fact that as I scroll down to enter more results, some unfortunate cropping occurs. 

I have some very sad spreadsheet news though.  

I am sad to report that I had to retire the motivational spreadsheet.

EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER! 

I received a new glucose meter that is connected to the cloud. Because everything needs to be in the cloud, I guess. Though I have to admit, it is super convenient. It tracks my readings automagically and I can view my results on an app complete with MULTIPLE charts. It can send me warnings about dangerous trends, I can share my results with my nurse, and it also keeps track of my meals too. 

Oh, and it gives me access to professional “diabetes coaches”--if I so desire. I’m unsure what kind of coaching I would receive but it’s nice knowing I have the option of telling a stranger about my medical condition. What does their job entail? What qualifications do they need? In what ways do they coach people? 

Like... maybe emails with the subject “Quit eating sugar, dummy!” 

A text message saying “COOKIES ARE A SOMETIMES FOOD.” 

More than likely they’re probably all covert salesmen who will be helpful at first but eventually try to organically suggest I try their revolutionary new “sugarless protein squares.” Or some shitty keto cookbook.

I am sad the spreadsheet will now start collecting digital dust as I upgrade to that glucose cloud life. But even though Katrina’s beautiful work was rendered obsolete by the march of technology, it did serve its purpose. It got me back into the habit of checking on the regular. I’m so grateful to have friends and family who help me when I have trouble helping myself. 

A wise man once said...

“Sometimes the best medicine is a friend who cares.”  --Albert Einstein

[heyitsyn]

HALLOKNEE

Manager!Seijoh

a/n: a halloween special with our boys and the mess it is

summary: lets just say,, things get weird during halloween

okay so first of

halloween isnt a favorite holiday of most of the boys

like they all ltr are towers and skyscrapers but these kids are absolutely terrified of it all

but you just really like the holiday bc of yanno, candy, scary stuff, and omg costumes!

so you were basically very hyped and excited about it and you were excitedly humming to yourself as the date grew closer

the boys were confused as to why you were actually happy and in a good mood but they didnt complain bc they love seeing you happy

the flowery aura makes them heart eyes

HEART GOES DOKIDOKI

oikawa ran over and he stood behind you as you were distractedly humming to your clipboard

‘watcha doing, y/n-chan?’

he whispered to your ear

normally, you would shriek or flinch but you didnt and instead, turned and flashed him a grin

‘checking our schedule! i have a surprise for you all and i want to make sure theres nothing happening to stop it from happening!’

the boys grimaced and held a hand to their heart at your joy and they didnt even question what was going on or why you were so excited

all they know is you were happy

lmao oikawa got the hardest shot to it

he was front seat and his eyes widened and he froze

then he pulled you to his chest and nuzzled his face into your neck

‘aawwww~~!!!! youre so cute y/n-chan!!’

these idiots are so whipped and simp for you so hard that they completely forgot everything

your happiness continued for another week and my god that was probably the best week of their life bc you were just fluttering and giggling and skfjdslkjfdlflfkjs

to be fair though, you mentioned halloween being close and you were looking forward to a family night of watching scary movies in tv and duh these boys were already arguing with each other on who would protect you

‘I WANNA SIT NEXT TO  Y/N-CHAN!’

‘WHY?! SO YOU CAN HAVE AN EXCUSE TO HOLD HER?! YOURE A PERVERT SHITTYKAWA!’

‘AS IF YOURE NOT ANY BETTER IWAIZUMI!’

‘HANAMAKI STAY OUT OF THIS!’

ltr its just a big warcry between the third years while the second and first years already were getting head pats from you for being brave boys and were comfy right next to you

‘my boys are so cute~’

ITS A LOVE SHOT! NAAA NANANANANANANAANANAAAAAA

by then, the surprise was getting closer and you were already jumping in your toes

the night before, you texted the group chat to meet you at the school by 8 pm tomorrow

they all sent replies saying okay with no questions

‘okay love you y/n-chan! <3′

‘got it! good night!’

‘sweet dreams darling!’

at around 7:30, you were standing by the school bus since coach mizoguchi omg bless his heart was going to drive you all

the boys were all dressed in warm clothing and my gosh they all looked like models what the heck

we’re just going to ignore and forget that hideous infamous oikawa outfit

but you didnt focus on that and instead waved at them happily

‘you guys!’

oikawa jumped joyfully at your voice before naruto running over to you and scooping you in his arms

‘y/n-chan!’

he shouted and you didnt mind being twirled around since you were giggling and laughing

after iwa punched his head, oikawa had to let you down and they continued bickering so you took this chance to go over to the others by the side

‘are you all excited?’

you asked and they smiled softly

kunimi ruffled your hair and you grabbed his hand

‘it’s really sweet you planned something for us, y/n’

watari reached over to pat your head and you wholeheartedly accepted the affection

‘oi, just tell us’

kyotani grumbled but you cutely smiled and held a peace sign

‘nooo~~!’

you checked your watch and you jumped

‘oh my! we need to hurry on the bus now!’

you herded everyone to sit in their seats and oikawa raised an eyebrow at the driver

‘oh? why is-’

‘your dear manager wanted to have a bonding exercise for the team. how could we refuse? oh, coach irihata said to make sure you know how to breathe and calm down’

the last sentence made question marks appear on everyone’s heads but you waved it off

‘oh come on, mizoguchi-san! dont ruin the surprise!’

you whined from your seat and the elder caught your eye at the rearview

‘just making sure to warn them, especially oikawa’

‘me?’

but he went unanswered 

the team gave up trying to ask you bc you would just mischieviously smile and shake your head cutely

‘nope~! not tellingggg~!’

but oh my they were answered

mizoguchi dropped everyone off in front of a building where there was also other people at

owo the people just simply stared bc omg like 12 boys? thats freaking great and i have finally lived and can die peacefully now

the team blinked as they got off the shuttle bus and they were so confused that you waved mizoguchi off to make sure the boys wouldn’t run back to the bus if they figure it out

ofc our ever smart baby kunimi was the first to figure it out and his mouth opened

‘why,,, do you hate us, y/n-chan?’

slowly the light bulbs turned on in everyone’s heads and they all had the same shocked look

DKFLSJDKFJLDKFLJ LIKE IN OHSHC WHEN THEY FIGURED OUT HARUHI’S A GIRL OMG I MISS THAT SHOW

‘nope! im going home!’

kindaichi started to walk but you hurriedly grabbed his arm

‘nooo yuu-kun!!! noo!! please stay!! i worked so hard!!!’

you looked up with your puppy dog eyes and kindaichi scrunched his face up

no no no fight it kindaichi

but ofc hes weak to you so he sighed and went back with the group

‘oi, are you insane or what?’

kyotani, despite his tough facade, wasnt exactly the greatest with any jumpscares in movies so having a jumpscare in real life wouldn’t exaclty be,,,, not violent

but you trust he can handle it and leave the place without a charge for assault

it was clear the others were already regretting it and you got sad bc you did work hard on getting a reservation since this haunted house was the most haunted in this part of japan

your figure in front of them made them tear their eyes away from the scary windows which they swore had someone staring at them

‘come on, you guys! we’ll have fun! i promise! its not that scary!’

you assured but they still didnt look convinced

‘you know, i just,,, i wanted everyone to,, bond and,,, have fun,,,,,, and because halloween is my favorite holiday,, i thought i could share it with you all. but im sorry that i was selfish and,,,, did it even though you guys dont like it’

not at y/n being totally manipulative and using their affections and attraction to her to help her case

your downcast expression and sad eyes snapped them out of it and they just sucked it up and they all shared a look that practically meant

‘suck it up, and make sure y/n is having fun. forget about us, its her time right now’

this led to you guys standing in front of the door guy and he cracked up at the sight of this cute little girl bouncing in her shoes with a group of guys who looked pale and nauseous

‘reservation name?’

‘seijoh!’

you exclaimed and he looked in the list before nodding

‘okay. so first, the rope is what guides you all. make sure, whatever you do, never lose grip on it bc you might get lost. keep in mind, this is an actual abandoned hospital and is known to actually be haunted so unless you want to go ghost-hunting and meet unknown people or spirits, dont stray off’

that warning should’ve scared you like the boys but you just agreed with a bright grin

‘yep!’

the doorguy chuckled before reaching into the box beside him

ngl oikawa was already so scared that he flinched, not knowing what was inside of it

‘a flashlight to help you guide yourselves’

you held it tight and yahaba was already holding on to your jacket sleeve

‘also, phones in the bin, please’

‘hah?!’

iwaizumi started but you placed a hand on his chest

‘its to make sure no one films anything and ruins the surprise’

you assured and he stopped but continued glaring

everyone hesitantly placed their phones into the bin where they saw it being locked into a locker and the key was given to you

‘you can get it back when you exit so dont worry’

you nodded and the team rolled their eyes but nodded anyways

brats

‘all set? okay! go on in! happy hunting!’

omg you were slightly regretting it already

kyotani refused to not be away from you so he was holding your hand while yahaba remained clutching you

the third years wanted to appear all tough so they took the lead but oikawa was screeching and screaming at the littlest things which caused makki to scream and mattsun to also scream and then iwa and everyone else

it was like a screaming train

you even heard kyo gasp multiple times and you tightened your grip on his hand to assure him he was okay and you were right there

everything was going smoothly excused the screaming and everyone was actually having a little bit of fun since it was funny watching everyone scream at the littlest things

‘NOOO!!!!!!’

‘WAAAAHHHH!!!!!!’

the many rooms had the actors and dear god they should be emmy winning by how they just stared at you all and still sent shivers down your spines

then the unthinkable happened

the flashlight that iwaizumi was holding started to flicker and eventually died, leaving you all stranded in the pitch-dark

there wasnt even any light above you so everything was just black

everyone stopped, your breathing being paused and no one made a sound

‘RAAAA!’

someone from beside you shouted in your ear and you screamed so loudly and in instinct, everyone bolted forward with no direction on where to go

kunimi and kindaichi were holding each others hands and ran also dragging along watari since he was holding kunimi’s sleeve and also yahaba and you and kyo

‘IWA-CHAN!!!’

oikawa instinctively shouted and they all held on to each other

mattsun expected to catch ahold of watari’s hoodie since he was behind him but there was nothing but air

‘uh, you guys?’

he wished and prayed and hoped your voice would answer back but there was silence

‘oi! l/n y/n!’

he shouted and makki trembled in fear

‘iwaizumi? oikawa?’

‘h-huh!’

iwaizumi grunted and my goodness was this really happening

everything was going too smoothly that something bad happening shouldve been seen from the get-go!

the 4 third years were thankfully with each other since they were already huddled up at the front but their kouhais were nowhere near them

‘iwa-chan! what do we do!’

oikawa cried and iwaizumi hit him to keep him quiet

‘shut up shittykawa!’

‘oi! stop fighting and think about this!’

mattsun quieted them down into shaking forms

‘the team is gone. theyre somewhere in this hospital and there’s a chance theyve strayed off the path’

makki shakily breathed

‘so what should we do?’

iwaizumi bit his lip to think of a plan

‘should we just go around and shout and scream for them?’

oikawa suggested but makki turned it down

‘no. that would ruin it for everyone else. we’re not the only ones in here’

oikawa blanched

‘i dont care about the other people! who knows what happened to y/n! i give no fck about strangers when she could be lost somewhere in this big ass hospital!’

they were stumped with no solutions so they just agreed to iwa’s suggestion

‘lets just hurry and get this over with and meet the people outside and get their help’

‘or! we can ask the staff in here, the actors, to help us! this is an accident’

‘you stupid or dumb? you think they would help us? its an us problem, not theirs, so theyre not going to abandon their post and look for them’

ltr maybe its the panic thats making them all crazy but they just settledon hurrying up and finishing the maze so they could get help

but the moment they turned to what seems to be a corner, they already managed to get themselves lost

iwaizumi felt around for the familiar texture of the rope which is supposed to be at his right but in the end, his hand reached nothing

‘fck!’

he shouted and scared the other 3

‘WHAT?!’

makki yelled

‘the rope. the rope’s not here anymore’

silence

then oikawa sobbed

‘oh my god im going to die’

he whimpered and makki sniffled

‘i wanna go home’

mattsun and iwa were the only at least stable ones and they finally resigned to defeat and grabbed their friends and walked to nowhere

on to your side!!

you and the others finally stopped running but the beating of your hearts still pumped at a fast speed

‘are we safe now?!’

kindaichi shouted and there was a chorus of confusion amongst the others

‘iwa-san?’

you checked and usually he would grunt but there was just silence

it was quiet and the familiar voice of oikawa was nowhere in sight

‘i dont know about you guys but my oikawa sensors just shut off’

yahaba pointed out and you gasped

‘where are they?’

kyotani refused to let go so you felt around with your left hand for the rope

to your relief, it was still there but the feeling of the missing boys outweighed it and made your anxiety levels spike up

‘should we call them? lets call them’

yahaba started but kyotani bonked his head

‘baka. they took our phones earlier’

the reminder of the confiscated form of communication meant that there was no other way you could contact the others

panic bubbled over kindaichi watari and yahaba while you kunimi and kyotani were busy thinking of something

‘i think theyve strayed off. if they didn’t, they wouldve heard us from up there’

kunimi mumbled

‘but where else could they have gone to?’

you asked and kyotani huffed beside you

‘we cant see anything. hell, i cant even see you. obviously theres probably a hallway they ran down to without even knowing they went there’

‘so youre saying theyre lost? without any way to contact us? what do we do?’

you whimpered, finally realizing and the idea of the others being gone settling in

‘this is all my fault. i shouldnt have dragged you here. i made a mistake-’

‘hey, dont freak out. im right here’

even though you couldnt see him, kenta maneuvered his way to cup your face and you felt his forehead press against yours and his nose nuzzling your cheek

the smell of cherry blossoms and vanilla with the slightest hint of sandalwood

kyotani’s scent comforted you and you were able to calm down 

‘we’ll figure this out. its okay, you got me’

he whispered and you nodded 

‘youre right here. we’ll be okay, okay?’

you giggled a little bit at the repitition of the word but smiled when he pulled you close to his chest

ugh i mightve already written a kyo route but that doesnt stop me from putting in kyo moments :”)

the other 4 were figuring out a plan that was eerily similar to the 3rd years

‘lets just finish this and ask the staff for help later’

they all agreed to kunimi’s idea and hurriedly gripped the rope to start going back to the path

you were in between kindaichi and kyotani with the former in front and the latter behind you

‘im right here. you got this’

kyotani would occasionally whisper and you were so grateful to have someone to be there

then the lights flickered and your eyes caught sight of something down the hallway to your left and you noticed a shadow 

a shadow of a tall figure that was kinda familiar

‘y/n-chan~’

you flinched and the voice of your blocker filled your ears

‘mattsun-san?’

you were too focused on the voice to hear the others questions of what was happening

‘over here, y/n-chan~’

there it was again

‘mattsun-san!’

you shouted and bolted to the hallway where you were sure the voice was at and you were ignoring the shouts of the others and kyotani hurriedly ran after you

‘mattsun-san!’

you shouted again and you ended up at the hallway, with the lights still flickering but there was no one

kyotani panted as he caught up to you before snatching your hand

‘oi! dont run off like that!’

it seems the others were too scared to let go of the rope that they were fine if kyotani went after you bc he was strong so he could protect you both if needed

right?

kyotani is a bark bark woof woof boy not a priest

you felt his warm hand grip your again as if to signal that you werent running off alone again

‘i heard him i swea-’

‘to your left, y/n-chan~’

ok ngl im getting chills writing this

the flickering lights allowed you to see the shadow again and yep there it was

it was at the end of the hallway to your left and once you turned and saw it, it ran to the right

‘mattsun-san! wait!’

as you were going to run, kyotani refused to let you go

he placed strong hands to your shoulders and you looked up at him, your eyes manic

‘listen to me, y/n. youre hearing things’

he firmly said

‘i dont hear matsukawa or anyone’

you started breathing heavily, the air seemingly getting colder and thinner

‘you dont understand! he was right there! his shadow-!’

‘let her play a game, boy!’

matsukawa’s voice this time took a harsh tone and even kyotani jumped, holding you to his chest protectively

‘oi! matsukawa! its not funny anymore!’

your eyes looked over kyo’s shoulder and you saw the shadow again from behind him

‘please trust me, kyo! hm?’

you begged and he sighed

‘im holding on to you. im not letting you go again’

this wouldve been romantic if you werent in an actual paranormal story

you chased after the ghost and it would occasionally whisper in your ear to keep your attention until you ran into a pitch-black hallway

‘what do we do now, y/n?’

kyo whispered and you trembled

‘mattsun-san!’

you weakly cried, knowing there was a strong possibility he wouldnt answer back

but a loud screech from the far right brought hope into you

‘Y/N-CHAN!’

is that-

‘oikawa-san?!’

you shrieked and there was a trample of footsteps running over to you and naturally, kyotani pulled you behind him

then a hand made you shriek 

‘relax. its just me, y/n-chan’

mattsun’s voice sounded clearer this time since he was right beside you and you hugged him

‘come on. everyone hold hands so that no one will get lost. we’ll take about this later’

iwa commanded and as the true leader of the gang, everyone followed his lead

there was a red sign with the most amazing word on top of it

‘EXIT’

it looked like a door that was only meant for staff but at this point, you all were desperate to just leave

as you reached the handle, the voice came back

‘aw~ leaving so soon?’

you turned around, halting mattsun and kyotani as they held your hands and felt you stop

‘show yourself. i know you’re not mattsun-san so stop using his voice’

you demanded and you turned, feeling a chilly air rush behind you

‘boo~’

it whispered to your ear and you eyes widened at the sight from further down the hallway

you could make out a mass of a body and at the top, there was bright red eyes and white teeth smiling menacingly

‘oh my god’

you whispered and the boys saw exactly what you were seeing

‘what is that’

oikawa whimpered

its mouth obviously moved as it spoke

‘are you leaving me, y/n-chan? so cruel~’

its voice was sickly sweet and sounded like a teenage boy’s but was so mean and hate-filled

you started sobbing and oikawa turned the door to run but it stayed put and didnt budge

‘you were so fun to play with~ are your friends fun too~?’

it looked like it was coming closer with a hand outstretched and you started shivering and your voice ripped into a scream

‘stop! go away!’

iwa mustered all his strength and ran against the metal door but it opened on its own, leaving the boy to land on the grass from outside

you were pulled by the others before it could touch you and you were already hysterically crying before the first and second years ran over and engulfed you to a hug

you were being hushed by the them and you tightly held on to someone’s arms

‘sshhh its okay, we’re right here’

you reduced to hiccups before looking around

‘w-where’s the other people?’

you asked, taking notice of the empty field

‘are we at the back?’

the boys shared a confused look

‘huh? what are you talking about, y/n?’

you looked at yahaba like he was crazy

‘the other people! the other people wanting to go in! and the doorguy! the haunted event! the haunted house!’

their eyes flickered everywhere to try and make sense of what you were saying but in the end resulted to just pure confusion and fear

‘y/n, we’re not at some event’

iwa started and your eyes widened

‘w-what?’

makki shakingly placed a hand on your shoulder

‘y/n, you dragged us here to go ghost-hunting. and there’s no doorguy’

your eyes flickered down as your mind tried to wrap itself with what was going on

‘what do you mean? i took you here for a haunted attraction! the doorguy took our phones and locked them in a locker, remember?’

you wildly waved your arms around but they still didnt understand

‘and the flashlight! and the rope! w-we had to hold on to the rope! the rope made sure we didnt stray off the path! bu-but the flashlight! the flashlight died!’

kunimi noticed the beginning of a panic attack so he pulled you close to him and made sure you could feel his heartbeat

‘listen to me, y/n. you took us here because we all lost a bet with you and this was what you wanted since its halloween and we trespassed to go here and there was no doorguy who took our phones because all our phones died the moment we got here and we saw a rope hanging from the ceiling and we had no flashlight in the first place’

he whispered to your ear and you pushed away from him, curling your arms around yourself

‘no! what bet?! i took you here for bonding time for our volleyball team! you were getting busy for inter high so i figured this could help you have fun!’

now that took the cake

‘what volleyball team?’

your eyes finally settled on your ‘captain’

‘what do you mean, ‘what volleyball team’, oikawa-san?’

totally disregarding the fact that you just called him by his last name instead of his first, he focused on what you were talking about

‘if you wanted to bond with the volleyball team, then you brought the wrong sport team over then’

oikawa scoffed, feeling rage bubbling inside him at the familiar players of the volleyball team

‘you shouldve brought over nagisa and rin and them, then, y/n’

makki bitterly mumbled and you were just so exhausted and tired and confused

‘WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT’

you bursted and started crying which ofc prompted the others to calm down and focus on you

‘y/n, love, we’re the swimming team, not the little ball playing game’

mattsun reminded and you shook your head, disbelief and utter fear present in your face

‘then-then! oikawa-san! give me your right knee!’

you ran over and he questioningly raised his leg

‘uhh,, what are you doing, y/n?’

kunimi asked but you waved him off, determination in your eyes

‘this should prove hes a volleyball player’

then you punched it really hard which resulted with a sickening pop

oikawa screamed

a/n: idk if the concept is clear enough but uwu send in a guess and ill answer if you got it right

[bruh-haikyuu]

@arcangel-wings REQUESTED: Heya! I’m new to your blog and I really like your writing! Can I request Tenma Udai with an s/o who’s a baker while he’s in hs? So like he’s a delinquent and she’s a sweetheart who’s always giving people the stuff she bakes? Everyone thinks it’s weird but they fit together kinda thing 🥺?

A/N: Thanks for requesting!! This is über cute. Fem!Reader as alluded in the request^^

kilig. | udai tenma

word count: 2155

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(n.) the rush or the inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiencing something romantic

“Chocolate is the ingredient for love~!” you say after pouring what seems to be an entire bucketful of chocolate chips into your bowl.

Your friend Saeko has seen just about enough of your nonsensical chatter about baking, your boyfriend and your abundant love for both. Already exhausted from a recent scolding by the vice-principal, she decides that it’s better off to smile and nod rather than try to come up with a snarky remark for your innocent mania.

“T-That’s a lot of chocolate,” she blurts out. When she picks up her spatula from the bowl, the girl grumbles at the sight of a liquidy trail drizzling down the utensil. “Ahh geez, it’s not supposed to be like this, isn’t it? Katagiri-sensei’s going to fail me again...”

You smile and hand her a bowl of flour. “Don’t worry, Saeko-chan. Just add a bit more flour and you’re good to go! You can never go wrong with cookies.”

The halo above your head is nearly visible. Saeko swears she can even hear angels singing to her in the background as you mix away on your fragrant bowl of dough. You don’t even seem real—from your angelic grin down to your overwhelmingly flowery aura. It’s tough enough to imagine that you’d ever talk to her of all people, but to imagine you’d go for a guy who’s just as much of a thug...

Unthinkable! Saeko shakes her head. She’d thought you’d pulled a joke on her the first time you announced that you were dating... him. Udai Tenma, star of the Boys’ Volleyball Club, a red-hot beacon of undomesticated temper.

She’d always known you liked him—though which part of him you liked is somewhat still a mystery to her—and as much as Saeko wanted to protect you from those ruffians, that absolutely infatuated look in your eyes was too much to bear. And eventually, she succumbed to your incessant ambitions of high school romance.

“You’re a saint, dude,” she sighs longingly. “I don’t get how you’re still dating that guy. I’m not really one to say anything about this, but don’t you think Udai’s kind of a jerk with the way he treats you?”

You chuckle, like a sweet grandmother about to tell a nostalgic tale to her grandchildren.

“I suppose you can say that Tenma-kun is a bit shy. He likes to act tough and mighty when he’s around people, but he’s actually just a normal boyfriend with a very sweet tooth and a penchant for manga.”

Saeko scowls. “Normal’s normal, but you have to at least let him know that you have your limits too. I really can’t stand leaving the two of you alone, w-what if Udai breaks your heart, or worse—”

“Tanaka-san. If you have time for chatter back there, then surely, you’re finished with your cookies?” at the sound of the grouchy Home Economics teacher at the front of the class, Saeko quickly returns to her bowl in a sorry attempt to look busy.

Deciding to humor her interest, you lean towards her and whisper lowly. “I’ll be fine, Saeko-chan. He may not look like it, but Tenma-kun’s actually very cute.”

In her mind, it’s much easier to simply handcuff herself to you so that you’re under her watch at all times possible. But your gaze is nothing short of genuine—you really love this guy, and the fact that you’re still with him, assures Saeko even just a tiny bit that he might not be so bad after all... with you at least.

You’re already storming away in your little world of baking. It amuses your best friend whenever you’re off making your personal masterpieces (“‘Masterpiece’ is absolutely right!” she’d say while stuffing her mouth full of your mini tarts). Each and every one of your creations are whipped up with the utmost amount of love and care, and for just the right reasons, everyone’s been pestering you to set up a bakery after high school. Your regular patrons just happen to be the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club—with the addition of the lively Coach Ukai who is rather fond of how much filling you put into your red bean buns.

As regular as regular can be, you’ve found yourself visiting the Volleyball Club clubroom after school every Wednesday to hand out your treats to not only your aloof boyfriend, but also to his friends, his coach and the prostrated manager who direfully needs a pick-me-up. And suddenly, you’re ‘Karasuno’s Cookie Goddess’.

“Ah, you’re making another batch, Y/N?” Saeko perks up when you split your dough in half.

“Yep!” you giggle, essentially a high school student drowning in love. “I want to make something special for Tenma-kun today.”

“... What’s the occasion? Is it his birthday or something?”

You shrug, face absolutely alight. “Nope, I just want to give him a surprise~”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tenma isn’t exactly unapproachable. It’s just that people tend to avoid him at all costs. Perhaps you were just bold... or remarkably stupid, but if you hadn’t addressed him that day, life would’ve probably been drabber.

Your parents and your friends (with emphasis towards your overprotective Saeko-chan) had shown their unfiltered concern when the news of your relationship circulated like wildfire. What was the analogy they used, again?

“You’re like a rabid bridge troll and a rabbit! It doesn’t work!”  You could only laugh at their valiant efforts of a correlation... if they were really trying to make one. But after a few more reassuring pushes and awkward family dinners, they’ve come to be more lenient about your little ‘liaison’.

But you never feel like you have to worry when Tenma is around. In fact, when Tenma is around, you feel calm—even when he’s spouting off curses to a taller rival.

There’s a warmth unlike any other when he holds or kisses you. And though you’d have to drive him through hell and waters to say it out loud, you already know that every action he does for you is out of love. Words are material, it’s the action that counts, right?

“Sorry for the intrusion~!” you call out into the open doors of the Boys’ Volleyball Club’s space.

A flash of obnoxious yellow hair flashes before your eyes and suddenly, an imposingly tall  figure appears in front of you out of nowhere. “Cookie Goddess!”

“Good afternoon, Yukimura-kun,” you smile. “Is there only you right now?”

“I’m here too, Y/N-chan,” the lax-faced captain Tokito emerges from the room in the midst of zipping up his jacket. His eyes flicker towards the packages in your hands and a smile cracks on his face. “Ooh, chocolate chip cookies today~”

You quickly raise the fragrant bags of treats into their view, bringing in the remaining swamp of boys from the clubroom. Suddenly, the common hallway is blocked by an influx of starving teenagers who are rampaging on about your existence.

“So good...” Yukimura murmurs dreamily, mouth full of chocolate. “Man, anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife if you were to cook them these everyday.”

A brazen first-year with frosted tips elbow him and sighs. “Too bad you’re taken, huh, Y/N-chan-senpai? If it were me instead of him, I’d always make it a point that ‘Heeey... guess what my girlfriend made for me today~ Isn’t she the best—”

“Oi, brat. Whose girlfriend do you think you’re talking about?”

The gangle of boys freeze up simultaneously at the grouchy voice behind you (aside from Tokito, who’s yawning at the whole ordeal). Whipping around to the dark aura boring holes into your back, you immediately light up at Tenma’s presence.

“Tenma-kun~!” you launch at him with your arms wide open. You’re ready for some sort of swerve from him, so you make sure you protect his bag of cookies with your arm... You’ve learned this counter-attack the hard way, of course.

But what you don’t expect is that your boyfriend makes no move to avoid you at all.

“H-hey! Don’t just lunge at me like that, you idiot! What if you fell down and knocked your head open?” Ah, at least the embarrassed comment is there.

You can only smile at him kindly. From the edge of your eyes, you swear that you can see a light blush dusting his face as your boyfriend gains newfound interest in your shoes.

“Come with me for a while,” he finally grumbles, effectively breaking the silence between the both of you. Grabbing your hand, Tenma leads you down the little aluminium staircase, eliciting small grates from the steps below you and a mass of curious whispers from the group you’d just left behind.

“Hey, Udai-kun~” Tokito calls out, a lilt of roguery in his tone, “Make sure to get back in time for practice, okay? And keep Y/N-chan in one piece, won’t you? We can’t get another Cookie Goddess if you don’t.”

When he turns into a secluded corner away from the prying eyes of his teammates, you can hear him audibly huff and mutter something under his breath. As silence lingers between you, you nearly forget about the reason why you came to visit.

“I made some cookies for you, Tenma-kun,” you say to him, urging the neatly wrapped bundle into his hands. “I hope you like it.”

You can clearly see the hesitation in his eyes when he takes it in his hands. You can probably guess why.

(“Y/N, your skills with a knife are scary, dude,” Saeko grimaced as she watched you trail over the dough with the gleaming blade of your paring knife.

“Aaand... done!” you proudly wiped the sweat off your forehead. It would’ve been more helpful with a cookie cutter around, but you figured that it would’ve been more heartfelt otherwise.

‘Heartfelt’, you pondered on the word for a moment. Would this be too heartfelt for such a rag-tag person like Tenma? It would probably be better to go for something simpler, just like the other days...

Nah. You shook your head as you chucked the tray of heart-shaped cookies into the oven.)

You’re hoping for a shocked response from him, but Tenma only grumbles meekly. You brace yourself for another scolding for acting too chummy with him, or being too affectionate, or—

“You shouldn’t get too close with other guys.”

Wait.

Tenma crosses his arms, the curls of his hair falling gently over his forehead. His pink cheeks darken into a soft maroon. “If they found out you’re giving me this sort of special treatment, they’ll be all over you the next day, asking for it too... I don’t like it.”

The laugh that rises in your throat threatens to burst. What is this, you think. Your stomach hurt from the mere image of this innocent “delinquent” professing his jealousy for you. If he was like this all the time, wouldn’t that be an interesting change... Aah, your boyfriend really is cute, isn’t he?

A giggle escapes you and you watch him jolt in chagrin. “Tenma-kun, you’re so red.”

“I’m not!” he yells rather briskly, then shoots back at you. “You can’t say I’m red when you were all burning up as you were giving me these heart-shaped cookies.”

Touché. “I’m glad you like them, Tenma-kun.”

His gaze visibly softens up as you give him an angelic smile. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

At times like this, you really do see the boy who’d shyly confessed to you under the shade of the summer ginko tree. It wasn’t anything of a distant memory, it was just that Tenma’s usual demeanour and your unrelenting tolerance hindered the both of you from being completely outward with one another. Maybe something like this isn’t so bad after all.

“I-I have to go back to practice. You can go home by yourself, right?” your boyfriend clears his throat, urging you to leave.

Though you wished the moment would last a little longer, you know there are other countless shared opportunities with him. “Mm-hm! You do your best in practice, okay?”

He ruffles your hair and chuckles endearingly.

“Atta girl. Now go home before Tokito catches me getting all touchy-feely with you.”

Bidding him goodbye, you sullenly trudge away from your boyfriend (and his friends waving back at you from the balcony). Then the idea strikes you.

Special cookies ought to have a special flair to them, no?

Cupping your hands around your mouth like a megaphone, you shout, loud enough for his teammates to hear. “I love you, Tenma-kun~!”

And the crowd goes wild.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

From: Tenma-kun ♡

Subject: Untitled

(15:58) Now Tokito’s all over me thanks to you, making me do extra diving drills. You better make more of those cookies as compensation, idiot. Be prepared for it.

(15:58) Btw, don’t forget to look both ways when you cross the street on the way home. If you get into an accident, you won’t be able to apologize to me properly.

(15:58) ... Hey.

(16:00) I love you too.

[aliendissection]

Haes and fat acceptance led me on a path of destruction for years. Physically and mentally. A path that I’m suffering the consequences of now and attempting to fix. I feel the need to say this because of all the bullshit flowery feel-good language in the tags. All of that shit is a smokescreen, it’s all to distract you from the real life consequences of obesity. No haes influencers are as happy as they make themselves out, they are selling a lifestyle. Unlike your average influencer, that lifestyle ends your life early. IE “coaches” pray on your low self esteem and weight issues to make money. Your family and friends don’t hate you for being fat. Weight loss is possible. Don’t believe the bullshit these people feed you.

[matrixaffiliate]

Awaken

New Story! - FFN and AO3

For the wonderful, darling, amazing @the-words-in-my-head-12 as part of the @harryandginuary Gift Exchange!

It's been ten years since Harry finished Hogwarts, ten years since he and Ginny decided to say goodbye, and ten years since he's seen her. But that all changes when he turns the corner on the pavement in Magical London. This chance encounter might just gain Harry a second chance at the one that got away. Magical AU-No Voldemort.

Awaken

Chapter 1

The busy streets of Magical London in August just before the sun finally starts to sink in the sky give Harry a sense of what a can of sardines must feel like, cramped, slimy, and surrounded by a stench that he doesn't want to name. He has realized over the last ten years of having to come into the city that he hates it, but growing up in Godric's Hollow, out in the sprawling green of Gloucestershire, one can hardly blame him for it. Harry reminds himself for the umpteenth time that he'll be out of it in just an hour or so. He's only here to grab a few things, stopping at those specialty shops that won't survive unless they place themselves in the middle of the largest group of people they can find. It's when he turns the corner towards one such shop, the only place he's ever found that makes broomstick polish that doesn't stain his clothes, that he collides into her.

He doesn't realize it's her at first, gripping the person's shoulders to keep them both from falling, but then she cries out to apologize and he freezes because he knows that voice. He hasn't heard it in ten years, but it's like he's seventeen all over again and Harry looks down and she's staring up at him with her lips parted like she might have continued her apology until she realized exactly who she was looking at.

"Gin."

As if her name is an incantation, the images from his last year at Hogwarts come rushing back to him. Lying out on the grounds with Ginny in his arms. Quidditch practices, after Quidditch practices, her lips on his, searing, frantic. The stress of his NEWT year, being Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, the newness to their relationship wearing off, the fighting, the night they decided it was best to call it off, best to let him go out and start his life, best to let her finish her NEWT year without a long-distance boyfriend, best to bring it all to an end. They were seventeen and sixteen and while letters from home had helped a little in the fights, Harry feels like they were both ill-prepared to try and work through anything without someone coaching them through it. They were so young.

"Harry." She smiles up at him, though he notices her eyes look as far away as he feels.

"Hi," he finally manages to whisper before they're jostled and shoved against the building to his right. Instinctively he pulls her into him to keep her shoulder from also hitting the rough bricks. That action brings more memories, more images, more of Ginny rushing back to his mind as he smells that flowery scent again for the first time in a decade. Merlin, they had been so young.

"Hi," she pulls back, and Harry realizes he's holding her far too close. They aren't seventeen and sixteen anymore and trying to be together. He's twenty-seven and she'll be twenty-six at the end of the week; they're past that part of their lives.

He drops his arms and she pulls away entirely and Harry can't begin to describe the ache in his chest. It's almost like when they called it off at the end of his seventh year, but that had a feeling of relief, knowing she'd be happier mixed in with the hurt and the frustration. This time, all those feelings are replaced with this overwhelming desire to pull her back.

"How, er, how have you been?" It's a silly question, he's still best mates with Ron, he knows roughly, vaguely, how her life has gone - small things like her Quidditch career and how mad she was when Ron and Hermione chose to elope - but it's the only question he can think to ask.

He realizes a second too late his hand is already in his hair. She smiles though and he can't help but smile back.

"I've been good, and you?"

"Good," he nods and then they stand there, staring at each other in silence as London whizzes around them. It only takes London ten seconds to jostle them again though and it seems to bring both of them back to reality.

"Well," she hesitates, looking him in the eye a moment longer before she starts again, "I should probably-"

"Of course, sorry," Harry steps back, "It was good to see you."

"You too," she bites her lip and Harry receives a new rush of emotions as that image comes back to him in so many different situations from their roughly eight months together.

She brushes his arm as she steps past him and Harry unconsciously breathes her in before she disappears around the corner.

Gone.

Again.

He's in an off mood for the rest of the day as he runs his errands, and he blames it on the city. He blames it on one of the stores being out of what he wanted. He blames it on the heat of the day. He blames it on everything other than the glaring fact that he saw Ginny again.

Because she's just an ex-girlfriend. He has a few of those now, it's nothing out of the ordinary, everyone has an ex or a few, so it isn't seeing Ginny that's caused this feeling that everything in his life is wrong.

It's the long week he's having. It's how work has been stressing him out lately. It's the way the big city affected him today.

It has nothing to do with Ginny.

Besides, he reasons, we were so young back then; we've grown apart as we've grown older.

Merlin, they'd been kids! Blowing everything out of proportion, seeing only as far as the end of the next hour, too scared to really be open with each other, too inexperienced to realize they needed to be; he's amazed that they made it the eight months they did because he's rather ashamed of a lot of his behavior from his teens. His family assures him it's how most everyone feels; being a teenager is no one's forte. But Harry knows he hurt people; he hurt Ginny, and that's a sour pill to swallow. But he pushes it away to try and focus on making himself some dinner. It's not like he can go back and fix it.

Harry stops midway from setting the pan on the hot pad as his brain latches on to the flippant thought, racing through ideas from letters of apology to showing up on her front doorstep.

"No." He says it out loud, though it's only him in his little two-bedroom home. He isn't going to go barging back in on her life, for all he knows she has a boyfriend.

To his great surprise, the monster in his chest from when he was a teenager comes roaring back to life as if it hadn't been dead and gone since he and Ginny broke up.

Harry had attributed its absence to him growing up, maturing, becoming better, because it hadn't come back after Ginny. He mutters darkly at the feeling, trying to banish it away. He's not jealous. He's not that type. He's secure. Trusting. An adult more importantly.

Besides, Ginny isn't his!

He groans and sets the pan down to dish himself his dinner. He needs to stop. This train of thought is only going to drive him mad, and probably make him do something stupid; he is James Potter's son, after all, so the odds are high he'll do something that he'll wish he hadn't.

The battle is fought all evening, but it's a lost cause because his mind has decided to be a Pensieve, playing their whole relationship through his head again and again and again. He can't help but realize he's never done this with the other women he's dated. Even on the occasions he's run into them after they've ended things, he's always been able to brush it off within a few hours.

It's guilt, he reasons. He was a self-centered, inconsiderate teenager; he was older than her and should have known better; he knows that he hurt her and he's feeling guilty for that because he never properly apologized to her for it. Even when they broke up, he didn't apologize. Yes, that's what this is, it's guilt; if he can apologize to her, it will go away. And so, he pulls out a paper and pen and sits down to write.

A letter is a pretty regular task, tedious even, but as Harry sits at his little table, it feels more difficult than spell manipulation, something he does on the daily for work. The pen seems heavy in his hand and his mind slows, unable to come up with the words to put on the page.

"Well, write her name," He chides himself, but even that action feels heavy as his pen loops the G and dots the I and adds the comma after the N. He briefly wonders if he should write out Ginny and not Gin, but he never really called her by anything else when they were together. To the point that his whole family only called her Gin as well - something he never thought to ask if she minded. But it was all because 'Ginny' was Ron's baby sister; 'Gin' was his.

Harry pushes his hands into his hair and groans. He's twenty-seven years old! He should be able to write a simple apology!

Again he picks up the pen and this time forces himself to start.

Gin,

Seeing you today, it was it reminded me of a lot of things how I was. Mostly what a prat I was when we were teenagers dating. I wanted to apologize. I should have apologized the moment I saw you today. I should have apologized back then. I know it’s been ten years, that this is very past due, but I am sorry. You didn’t deserve a lot any of the rubbish I dished out, and I know wish this wasn’t such a late apology, but late or not, you deserve to have it. Hope life is well, and happy birthday Sunday.

Harry

He reads it ten times before he forces himself to fold it up and attach it to Hedwig's leg. "If you don't find her just take it to the Burrow. I have no idea where she's living now." Hedwig tilts her head at him like he's stating the obvious, which he realizes he is. Harry sighs and opens the window. "Off you go then."

Hedwig floats out into the night and Harry expects to feel lighter, which he does, but what he doesn't expect is how his mind won't let Gin go. Now though, instead of the feelings of all the things he did wrong, his mind plays all of the good things over and over again.

The laughter - he doesn't think he's laughed as much since then - their private jokes, the way she'd roll her eyes anytime someone said something she found tedious or ridiculous, how quickly she caught onto everything, from course work to their friends' problems she always seemed to get to the heart of things, her smile going soft when he'd whisper in her ear, her small hand in his, her lips pressed against his, her body tucked up against his, her blazing brown eyes staring up at him with fire, the nights where they would talk until four in the morning in the common room while they stole kisses, and it would always end with him finding excuses to have her run her fingers through his hair because it was just the most calming feeling in the world to have her fingernails run along his scalp.

The memories invade his dreams that night, and Harry can't honestly say he minds. Ginny was always fire and blazing, and when things were good between them he basked in the glow of her bright smiles and the warmth of her very presence.

But it's passed now, he reminds himself the next morning, even as his mind tries to replay a particularly happy hour spent down by the lake. She's certainly moved on, it's been ten years after all, and while he might be unattached right now, he has moved on too. He tries to think of the other women, the ones he's been with since Ginny, but the memories have to be dredged out of the archives of his mind, dusted off, held up to the light, and even then they're fuzzy.

It's because I saw her. He tries to reassure himself. If I hadn't seen her it would be just as hard to remember her. But that feels like a lie and he knows it probably is because the truth of the matter is that he's always been able to pull the memories of Gin out at any moment he cares. Thinking it through, as he's getting ready for work, he realizes that he's actually pulled these memories with Gin forward more often than most of his memories.

But it's only because so much reminds him of her.

She plays for the Holyhead Harpies, so Quidditch is always a reminder of Ginny. Red usually reminds him of her hair, comparing if it's brighter or duller or darker or lighter than the bright red that he thinks of as Gin's. Half of Britain has freckles and so he remembers hers just about any moment he's close enough to see someone's freckled face. She always bought Fizzing Whizzbees to eat while she revised and so anytime he sees them he thinks of her while his mouth waters, whether from the candy or the memories of her eating them he isn't sure. The list goes on and on. The girl is simply everywhere.

She isn't a girl anymore, though. His mind pulls back to looking down at the woman she'd become. Yesterday, his hands on her shoulders, when he pulled her into him to shield her from the wall they were pushed into, she didn't feel like the slight teenager she'd been ten years ago. She'd grown into herself, in so many ways, her face was more confident now, it lacked that desperate need to prove herself, and while she was still about the same height, her body had finally caught up with the height, filling in her curves and making it very obvious she wasn't a sixteen-year-old anymore.

In frustration, Harry shoves his hand into his hair and pulls, trying to gain control over his wandering thoughts. That's when Hedwig taps on the window and Harry's heart stops for a full second when he sees that she has a letter attached to her leg.

Slowly he opens the window and removes the letter, breathing in relief that it isn't the one he sent out but feeling the anxiety build from the writing on the front of it. It's from Gin, her handwriting still so familiar to him even after all this time, and he chuckles at the drops of ink her quill splattered near the corner of the parchment.

Harry,

Thank you. I'm sorry too, I know I wasn't the easiest to put up with back then either. I'm impressed you remembered my birthday, it's been a really long time. What are you up to these days?

Gin

Harry stares at the note, trying to determine his feelings because they are coming at him in a rush right now and he can't sort them out individually. He can, however, look at the pieces of what's happened so far. It's the same process he uses when deconstructing spells, and it's the only thing he can think to do as he stares at her pretty handwriting.

She wrote him back. He thinks this is the first thing to examine. He didn't expect a response. He's not sure he wanted one, but now that he has one, he's rather glad of it. It seems important somehow that he can converse with her, even if it's just mundane pleasantries via owl.

She accepted his apology. That's the next thing he thinks on, and he's able to pull out that he's relieved because he wasn't sure she would.

She apologized as well. This is more difficult to decipher how he feels about it. While he knows it takes two to tango, so to speak, he definitely feels he's more to blame than she. Still, her apology brings a small smile to his face, and even though he doesn't think he deserves it, he's appreciative that she felt to do so.

He impressed her by remembering her birthday. This feeling is a little easier to identify: embarrassment. He wished her a happy birthday and it's been a decade since they saw each other. It's a miracle that she's only impressed because he's aware of how obsessed it must look that in ten years he hasn't forgotten her birthday. Regardless of the fact that she doesn't seem to think it weird, he still shifts uncomfortably as he reads that line.

It's the last line of her letter that leaves Harry the most internally unsure of what he wants to do. Her last line, the question of what he's up to, it's an open invitation to contact her again, to respond to the letter, to not go another ten years without knowing at least something of what's going on in the other's life. There's a part of him that wants this, wants to know if they could start a friendship after everything that's transpired, maybe let it grow into something more again, like it did the first time. But another part of his mind tells him to stay away, to write a vague response that doesn't open the door for more interaction, and finally close this part of his life.

The clock on his wall chimes and Harry sighs; his time to think this through has run out. He slips the letter into his pocket, grabs his wand, and Apparates to work.

He realizes as the day wears on that he shouldn't have brought it with him. The letter is constantly on his mind which means Gin is also constantly on his mind. The last time Gin was constantly on his mind, it was just his school marks on the line. Now it's his job.

"Harry, what is going on?" Sirius asks after he's beckoned him over.

Alright, so maybe his job isn't on the line - working for one's dad and godfather does come with its advantages.

"Sorry, I'm preoccupied, I'll focus."

"What are you preoccupied about?" James comes up behind him and Harry holds back the groan that tries to escape his lips.

"Just stuff from my school years, realizing that I haven't properly apologized to a lot of people."

His dad laughs and throws an arm around him. "Say that around your mum, you'll make her proud."

Harry laughs and Sirius ruffles his hair. "Remember that most people do move on with their lives Harry, even when offenses aren't formally acknowledged and amends made."

"You're right," Harry tries to focus on the lightness he feels with his father and godfather and tells his brain to think about Gin later.

This works for the rest of the morning, but after lunch, when he's supposed to be documenting what he went through and found this morning, his mind wanders back again and he can't seem to get a grip. The problem is that he promised his dad this would get done today, so he has to get a grip. But his mind is spinning with all the things he could tell Gin, all the things she might tell him, everything that they've missed between each other in these ten years.

I'll just write it out, he thinks as he grabs a clean sheet of paper and his pen. If he can write the letter he'll be able to work and then he can decide tonight if he's going to send the letter or not. Just because the letter is written doesn't mean it needs to be sent. He has all afternoon to decide.

Gin,

Thank you, I don't particularly think I deserved your apology, but I'm glad for it all the same. I do still remember your birthday, but I promise it isn't mapped out on a dozen different calendars around my house. However, if you do show up on my doorstep don't take it personally if I take a few minutes to open the door.

I work with Dad and Sirius, I'm sure you remember they were trying to decipher all the parts in spells when we were in school, figure out what made them work and not work. Well, the Ministry was keen to know what made dark spells work and not work and how people can manipulate them, so Dad and Sirius started contracting with them. We still do our own work to map out spells, but we now spend a lot of time working with the Aurors to pull apart dark spells, often having to work backward from what the effects were to get to the actual spell that caused it, then determining where the weak points are. I love it, but I won't keep boring you with the details.

I saw that you made the starting team a few seasons ago. Congratulations on that. Is it everything you'd dreamed? I remember it was your favorite thing to talk about back then, imagining what it would be like when you made it to the big leagues, star chaser on a top team. Where do you go from here? Planning on being the head coach now?

I'm really glad I ran into you yesterday. Well, I'm not glad I bashed into you, but I'm glad I saw you. It's been a long time.

Harry

He signs his name and feels some of the tension ease out of his neck and shoulders. He chuckles at how quickly the words came once he quipped about how he wasn't secretly obsessed with her, it felt like the way they'd joke back then. He doesn't struggle to work for the rest of the day, and he feels like a dark cloud has been lifted from over him. So much so that once he's home, he doesn't even read the letter a second time, he just ties it to Hedwig and sends it out.

He's shocked when Hedwig returns about ten at night, Gin's response tied to her leg.

Harry,

You're sure you aren't harboring stolen calendars, all with the month of August pulled out so that you can circle the eleventh on each one with a bright red pen? I think I'm actually disappointed at the thought that you don't.

Working with your dad and godfather must be fun. Not that I would want to work with my family, but your family was always a guarantee for a laugh. How is everyone on your side? I don't know if Ron keeps you abreast of what's happening with our side other than himself and Hermione, so I won't risk boring you with things you might already know.

Being a starter has been a dream come true, though I had no idea what I was really in for back then. It's so much work outside of training and games. There's the press, the briefings before and after the press, the paperwork, the reading and examining of our playbooks, the meetings. I swear it's a wonder that we manage to make it through everything in a training day.

To be honest, I don't know what's next. As long as I don't get injured and keep playing at the level I am, I probably have five to ten more years to be where I'm at with the Harpies. I've thought about coaching, but I don't know if that's really what I want after this dream is over. I was so focused on achieving this dream, that I never considered what should come next. It's funny how we forget those long-term things when we're kids. We forget that there's life after our dreams too.

But I won't let things get gloomy here, because I'm really happy we saw each other yesterday too. It's been too long, and I thought we were good friends back then. Even with how everything turned out, you were one of my favorite people.

Gin

Harry grins down at Gin's letter like a fool. It isn't the contents of the letter as much as the fact that it's there, that she's talking to him, or writing rather. But as he reads it a second and a third time, he realizes it's not just that the letter is there, it's what she said in the end, that he had been one of her favorite people, even with how they let each other go, let their relationship end. She had been one of his favorite people then, and it occurs to him that he's still more than fond of her now. So much so that before he realizes it, he's pulling a fresh sheet of paper out and sitting to respond to her letter, regardless of the fact that he should be going to bed. But then Hedwig nips at his knuckles before hopping to her cage and immediately going to sleep, and Harry realizes that if he writes this letter now, he'd want Hedwig to send it out tonight, and he should let her sleep.

He does let Hedwig sleep, putting his paper and pen away, but his thoughts keep going back to Gin, and this new sort of friendship they're forming, and it takes him far longer to fall asleep than his owl.

His imagination swings from memories of how they were to how things would be different now, and all this serves to tell him is first that he's going to be very tired in the morning and second that while he and Gin are becoming penpals, his mind doesn't think that's enough. His imagination can't unsee her from the day before, and it's really unfair to him that she had paused mid-word when he looked down because her lips were parted and he knows what it feels like to lean down when her lips are slightly parted and bring his lips to hers, slide his tongue across her bottom lip, and smirk when her breath catches before she nips on his lower lip and tells him to shut up and kiss her.

Harry gives himself a firm mental shake. How had he not realized he had never really moved on from Ginny? He tries to come up with the same sort of scenarios with the other women he's dated, and while he can bring them to mind, it's not nearly as easy as it is with Gin, and it certainly isn't bringing up the same...feelings.

Merlin, how did he never realize this before now?

The anxiety blossoms anew and Harry's now agonizing over what to do, because this could simply be his brain making the one that got away feel like more than it was. Things hadn't been all wonderful, he reminds himself. But another part of him argues that they'd been children. They'd even fought like children, over childish things. They're adults now, they've learned how to have a relationship, the give and take. Why wouldn't they work now?

On and on his mind spins as he tries to sleep, but it doesn't seem to come until nearly four in the morning and the few hours he gets are filled with dreams of Gin, dreams from their past, but also dreams that his brain creates from what he saw for that brief moment with her, how much she is no longer the sixteen-year-old girl that he held ten years ago.

In the morning he has to take a cold shower to snap himself out of it all.

How had they let it go? How had they let it slip away? How had they been so short-sighted?

Harry has no answers to these questions, and when he finishes his quick shower he knows there's no time for letter-writing before work. Which results in him being just as distracted as the day before and exhausted as well.

"I know it's Friday but would you please not mentally check out before we've finished up?" His dad laughs at him.

Harry groans, which turns into a yawn. James watches him before motioning them out of the protected room that allows them to cast all manner of spells and not accidentally destroy the building. Harry forces his eyes not to roll and follows after his dad.

"What's really going on, son?"

Harry rubs his eyes and tries to determine if he wants to bring his dad in on this or not. His gut reaction is no, but he could really use someone else's input because he's at the point where he's running circles in his head with no end in sight. Besides, he isn't a teenager anymore, he knows how to push away his more problematic feelings and ask for help.

"Harry?"

"Do you remember Ginny Weasley? Ron's little sister."

James nods, "You two dated your last year of Hogwarts."

"Well, I ran into her in London on Wednesday." Harry leans his shoulder up against the corridor wall and goes silent as he tries to figure out how to say this.

"And…?"

"And I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since." Harry stares at a random spot on the floor. "I thought it was because I'd never apologized for what a prat I was at seventeen and how I didn't treat her as well as I should have. So I wrote a short apology and sent it out. She responded and now we're becoming penpals or something, poor Hedwig has been out on the daily. But what's really bothering me is I'm starting to think that I never really moved on from Ginny when we called it off."

"What makes you think that?" James asks as he mirrors Harry's stance.

Harry presses his forehead into the wall, still struggling to make his thoughts align into words.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about her. It's been ten years but I can still pull up all those memories like they were yesterday. Nothing feels like time has passed, whereas every other ex it's hard to bring up those old memories, and there are holes in them, things that I don't quite remember how they happened. But not with Gin, I could probably make you something like Mum's movies right now if you have a Pensieve handy because none of it is fuzzy, it would play out with perfect clarity."

Harry turns back to look at his dad and finds his square-framed eyes looking back at him with mirth.

"So write to her and ask to meet up tomorrow."

"Her birthday is Sunday, I'm sure she has plans with her teammates."

Harry watches his dad's eyebrows rise up into the bits of gray starting to mark his black hair.

"You remember her birthday?"

Harry groans and pushes his forehead back into the wall.

"Alright, don't suggest the day, just tell her you'd like to meet up and ask when it works for her. But, son, if you still feel this way about her, you won't move on until you've been able to gain some closure, whether that's getting back together or finding out the two of you have grown too far apart to make anything work."

Harry glances back at his dad and lets the idea sit for a moment.

"Alright, I'll see if she's willing to meet up, but what do I do if she's not?"

James places his hand on Harry's shoulder, "Then you'll know it's time to move on and we'll go from there."

It sounds sort of terrifying, but the same argument Harry's been coming back to the last two days resurfaces - they aren't children anymore. He isn't a child, and he's not going to start things off with Gin this time around as the same scared and awkward seventeen-year-old specky git he was before. She deserved more then, and she certainly deserves more now.

"Well, at least I don't have to think about what the letter should say when I write it tonight."

"Good on you, mate," James pulls him into a quick hug. "Now, let's get this spell figured out so we can head out."

"Are the two of you still not done?" Sirius comes out of one of the other rooms.

"We're on it, Black," James waves the door open and gives Harry a gentle shove. "Come on, before the boss over there fires us."

The decision to ask Gin to meet up with him is what gets Harry through the workday, but when he finally sits down to write the note, there's a part of him that feels like a panicking seventeen-year-old again.

"Don't be a wanker," Harry kicks himself and forces his pen to write her name on the index card he's chosen to keep himself from getting long-winded.

Gin,

This letter writing, while I can't think of a better penpal, is a bit cumbersome, don't you think? Would you be willing to meet up sometime? I don't want to get in the way of any birthday plans but if you have time, I'd like to see you outside of crashing into you on the pavement.

Harry

He reads the note three times, trying to decide if he should actually respond to her letter or not before deciding he won't; he'd rather talk to her in person about everything in her letter. Before he can talk himself out of this, he ties the note to Hedwig's leg and watches her fly off into the sky, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon.

[andie-cake]

A brief rundown of each of my OCS so that y'all have context for my occasional OC posts

Francesca "Frankie" Falkenrath

The drama coach at Everett High (and freelance piano teacher) who survived an attempt on her life by her ex-boyfriend Jason, but only because a wandering spirit entered her body as her own soul tried to leave, putting her in an odd half-dead state where her soul is "off-center" and other ghosts can enter her body as they so please. Her own soul is now locked in a battle for control of it's own body with several other ghosts. Despite her unfortunate situation, she remains hard-working and optimistic.

Damien Hall

A cheerful local veterinarian, and Frankie's boyfriend of nearly seven years. Humble, sweet, and funny, if a bit of a doormat thanks to his constant willingness to put the needs of others before his own.

Det. Shiloh Hawthorne

A detective of the dead (or "dead-tective", if you will) and former Reaper assigned to investigate Frankie after her status in the Afterlife is listed as "Uncertain", as opposed to "Dead" or "Alive". Despite his frightening appearance and initially stoic demeanor, he's really a total softie once you get to know him. A lover of animals, music, and human culture in general who DESPERATELY craves a genuine friendship.

Det. Chester "Chess" Murdoch

A local private detective who solves minor cases with his twin sister Abigail as a part of the "Murdoch & Murdoch" detective duo, who gets roped into assisting Shiloh with Frankie's case. Fast-talking and eccentric, with a rather flowery vocabulary to boot. Despite his quirks, he's still a VERY competent detective, and would gladly take a bullet for his sister.

Det. Abigail "Abby" Murdoch

The older and more straight-laced of Dagwood Hill's "Murdoch & Murdoch" detective duo. Despite her more serious personality, she's not above her brother's certain brand of quirkiness, and has her own moments of eccentricity. Just as strong a detective as Chess, and is fiercely protective of her "baby brother".

Jason Fitzpatrick

The P.E. teacher at Everett High, who briefly dated Frankie after ending his marriage with his high school sweetheart Christina. A crass and abrasive man who only ever softens around his preteen son (from his marriage with Christina) Skylar, or his dog Rusty. Attempted to murder Frankie when she wouldn't get back with him several years later, but ended up with a gnarly facial scar and a 30-to-life prison sentence.

Skylar Fitzpatrick

The 11 year old son of Jason and Christina. Emotional, empathetic, artistic, and supernaturally inclined. In that, he can see and communicate with ghosts, even when they're NOT possessing someone, or (in Frankie's unusual case) currently in control of their host body. A sweet, yet very lonely boy who struggles to comes to terms with the fact that his family is broken.

Victoria Waterford

A successful local hairdresser (well, I say "local", but she's from Pittsburgh), and Frankie's best friend and former roommate. A smart and charismatic woman, with a strong passion for her work. She has a girlfriend, but I'm still trying to figure out her name and her role in the story, so please bear with me.

Christina Baxter

A kind yet tough local librarian, Jason's ex-wife, and Skylar's mother. Her son's high empathy was pretty much inherited from her, shown best by the fact that she went out of her way to befriend Frankie after the (at the time) naive young drama coach assistant ended her toxic relationship with Jason. Despite how rough her life has been, she remains strong for her friends and family, and will NOT let anyone pity her.

Xavier Lewis-Hall

Damien's ambitious, outgoing, and musically-talented preteen cousin. He used to get piano lessons from Frankie, which is how Frankie ended up meeting Damien in the first place. So you have him to thank for that. Dreams of becoming a famous musical theatre composer, and will not hesitate to tell you about his MANY ideas if you ask him. An amicable kid who manages to become Skylar's first non-ghost friend in YEARS, and forms a surprising bond with Shiloh over their shared love of music.

Robin Barrows

A teenage non-binary (she/her and they/them) piano student of Frankie's with a bit of a reputation around Dagwood Hill for being a troublemaker who likes to stir shit with local law enforcement. A good kid once you get to know them, but struggles in school thanks to her undiagnosed dyslexia, and has some anger issues. Frankie's just about the only teacher at Everett High who doesn't see her as a lazy problem child, and thus, she's the only teacher that Robin actually LIKES.

Hunter V. Luzzatto

The cynical and sarcastic ghost of a street guitarist who froze to death on the streets of Dagwood Hill during a particularly harsh Winter, and one of the ghosts attempting to take control of Frankie's body. He says his reasoning for doing so is so he can "experience the three biggest pleasures of life again". Meaning, eating food, having sex, and playing his guitar. You'll know he's in control when the room turns inexplicably cold. Despite his cynical outlook, dark sense of humor, and his beef with Shiloh, he has a soft spot for Skylar.

Mary Ann Fleisher

The ghost of a little girl from the 1930's who unfortunately passed after getting lost in the woods outside Dagwood Hill. After wandering the woods as a lost spirit for decades, she entered Frankie's body by complete accident, and wants nothing more than to get out and see her parents in the Afterlife. Timid and prone to tears, she's not in control of Frankie's body often, but it's always obvious when she is. If Frankie's shying away from everyone and speaking in a VERY small and scared voice, Mary Ann is in control.

Lucille Dagwood

The ghost of the long-deceased founder of Dagwood Hill, and one of the ghosts attempting to take control of Frankie's body. She believes that her beloved town has gone to shit, and wants to regain control of it. She's very stern and cold, able to shut anyone up with nothing more than a good old-fashioned death glare. It's never readily apparent when she's in control of Frankie's body, but once she speaks, you'll know.

[maybedancanwrite]

Here’s my first fic for the Harry Potter fandom. Hinny Fic.

A one-shot behind my art. For more, visit my Instagram art page: @dan.artchive

Read here: FFnet or AO3

It was a warm and sunny Friday that shone through the streets of Diagon Alley. Two Aurors wearing their dark red Auror robes were casually walking through the crowd of shoppers. The first Auror appeared to be average in height that had brown hair, tanned skin, and bright grey eyes. The second one was a tall, stocky, strawberry blonde bloke with pale skin and piercing blue eyes. One would think that the pair were normal wizards walking through the famous Wizarding shop in London but the two of them were under a charm to look different. If Alastor “Mad-eye” Moody was alive, he would have seen right through the charm with his eerie magical eye, hence, the moniker, “Mad-eye”.

 Apparently, the second Auror was on the verge of nervousness the entire day playing out the worst scenarios possible in his head that could happen on what he was about to do that afternoon. The first Auror found it amusing that the man, who saved the Wizarding World, was worrying over a huge question that could be answered by a yes or no. They strode to the lone jewelry shop in magical London to obtain the thing.

 “Okay, here we go,” huffed Harry Potter, the second Auror in disguise. He opened the door and the bell above it rang, signaling the store keeper that someone has arrived.

 “Relax, mate, I’m sure she would say yes. You’ve been dating for almost four years now,” said Ron Weasley, the first Auror in disguise for the nth time, assuring him again and again that nothing would go wrong. They had this conversation over a month ago when Harry asked for Ginny’s hand from all the Weasley family members, in secret, of course. If Ginny knew, she would have thrown a fit stating that no one gets to decide to who she marries. 

Harry only nodded to the words of comfort coming from Ron. He greeted the store keeper a good day and asked for the ring that he requested to be made a week ago. The store keeper, named Jane, asked for his magical signature (a receipt in the Muggle world) for security and clarity purposes. Upon seeing the signature, Jane’s eye widened in shock and confusion. Who wouldn’t be confused if the magical signature (designed to be forge-proof) of Harry Potter were to appear but the man before her was completely different from the famous Harry Potter? Nevertheless, she kept her confused thoughts to herself and headed to the back of the shop to obtain said requested ring.

It took about two to three minutes before Jane arrived bringing the velvet box. Harry gingerly grabbed and opened it to see a beautiful engagement ring perfect for his beloved girlfriend. The ring was a beautiful silver band encrusted with diamonds around it with the peridot gemstone, her birthstone, on top of it all. It was perfect. Perfect ring for his perfect love of his life. Harry thanked her and requested to keep it a secret for now, because Harry realized that sooner or later, the press will know and would have published it in numerous papers with exaggerated headlines.

********************************

It was now four in the afternoon when Harry realized that Ginny will be off from practice in an hour. Somehow excited yet nervous, Harry fumbled the velvet box silently praying to the heavens that she would say yes. Harry, who took half a day off with Ron, was lounging in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place after they went to retrieve the ring from the shop. Ron, who stayed with Harry after, was still snoring on the couch sometimes murmuring Hermione’s name.

 Harry aroused Ron from his sleep telling him that they need to go to Holyhead in ten minutes to finally ask the question. Ron, internalizing Harry’s word, was now fully awake and as excited as Harry. The pair then groomed themselves decently, especially Harry.

Ten minutes and a crack of noise later, the pair of Aurors, now not disguised, were sauntering along the grounds of the Holyhead Harpies’ stadium after some security checks and asking their purpose of visit. Harry told Ron to wear his invisibility cloak only to remove it until after the proposal, after she says yes, that is if she says yes, and snap a surprise photo.

The pair strode down to the stadium’s Quidditch pitch stands just in time to see the Harpies in the middle of their cool down routines. Harry roamed his eyes to a sea of women in green robes to locate where his girlfriend was. After a moment or so, he located her. There she was, looking so hot and sexy even in her current state; hair a mess, flushed cheeks and sweaty. 

 Thirty minutes later, the captain-slash-coach, Gwenog Jones, was now giving post-practice announcement, one of them was a two-day break much to the delight of the Harpies. Afterwards, the Harpies, who were now heading to their locker rooms, saw Harry approaching the team fumbling something under his robes. The ladies greeted Harry with a wave of hand, some nods, some saying “Wotcher, Potter”, and some pointing to their lead chaser, Ginny Weasley. 

 Harry returned their greetings and then walked to the center of the pitch with Ron behind, still under the invisibility cloak. He saw Ginny starting to remove her protective gears on her legs. He walked to her and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek only to be swatted by her small adorable hands pointing out that she was sweaty as hell. The two of them giggling while a hidden Ron was fake gagging. She was about to remove her protective arm gears when Harry took hand and donned his serious, loving and passionate face.

 “Gin, I-I don’t know how to start this but…,” started Harry, rubbing his thumb along her hand. Ginny, who knows her boyfriend really well, noticed how rubbing his thumb along any surface, this time her hand, is a sign of him being nervous of some sort.

 Ginny was about to speak out her thoughts when Harry gently asked her to let him finish.

 “Gin, the past years has been my absolute happiest moments. Living like a normal person, no mad dark wizard after me every year, no life threatening activities ever since – well, except for the raids and field missions,” he said, chuckling at the last part.

 “What I’m trying to say is…,” continued Harry, hoping the next words that will come out of his mouth would be not be too much for her. “I don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore.”

 Ginny’s jaw drop every slightly with tears now starting to roll down her flushed cheeks. She was too frozen to remove her hand from his. The thing she was scared the most was now slowly happening. The thought of Harry leaving her for someone better than her was always at the back of her mind. 

 Unbeknownst to Ginny and Harry, Ron was fuming. This was not what Harry told him. This was not the scene he pictured out when Harry told Ron that he was asking his only sister to be his wife. Ron was about to pull the invisibility cloak when Harry went down on one knee, his other hand trembling as he held the velvet box. The box opened itself knowing that Harry had probably cast a non-verbal spell. The box, to Ron and Ginny’s surprise, was not the ring but a golden snitch.

 “Ginevra Molly Weasley, my love, my dear Gin, I’m sorry for shocking you like that. I love you and I don’t think that I can go on in this life without you in it. I may be a prat, a git, or whatever do you call me sometimes when you’re annoyed, but this prat loves you with all my heart,” he said, professing his love for her. Tears were still rolling down her cheeks, all flustered. “Would you let me be the happiest man and be my wife? Will you marry me?” asked Harry, gently taking the snitch from the box and caressing it softly along her hand revealing the peridot ring. 

 “Y-yes! Of course I will marry you, you prat,” said Ginny, hitting Harry square in the chest. “That’s for scaring me like that, Potter.”

 Harry slid the ring to her ring finger and kissed her. “I love you so much, soon-to-be Mrs Potter,” confessed Harry, hugging her so tightly.

“I love you, too,” replied Ginny, inhaling his fiancé’s lovely scent that she loves so much. When the couple pulled apart, Ginny asked about the snitch in question.          

 “The snitch…It’s the snitch I caught from my fifth year, isn’t it?” 

 Harry nods. “I got it from Madam Hooch. It seems that she has been keeping all snitches that won every House finals. Took me a lot of time convincing her but at the end she caved in,” he chuckled.  

Suddenly, a bright flash interrupted the couple’s sweet moment. Ron had finally removed the cloak and took a photo of the newly engaged couple, much to Ginny’s chagrin. Ginny was supposed to be mad at him for interrupting their moment but she noticed that his eyes were slightly puffed so instead of being mad at him, she hugged her brother. 

 “Alright, you,” said Ron, slowly pulling himself from his sister, trying to discreetly sniff and not to sound hoarse. “Go to your future husband and I’ll snap a photo of you.”

Ginny obliged and went to Harry for their first proper photo of their engagement. Harry, in his Auror robes, held her by her waist while pressing a kiss on her head and inhaling her flowery smell despite the sweat. Ginny leaned against Harry, her puffed eyes showing nothing but love and happiness with her bright and wide smile. She showed her ring to the camera while pointing at it. The snitch hovering close by. 

Harry was over the moon, the girl he pined for most of his sixth year, who then became his girlfriend for almost four years, was now about to become his wife. At the prime age of twenty two, he was at his happiest.

[garylloyd]

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[hecohansen31]

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Boxer! Ivar The Boneless+Reader+Boxer! Roman Godfrey.

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Still not in the best headset, but since I don’t like leaving my projects to die, in my Word, here it is a little thing I manage to “finish” for @walkxthexmoon, who introduced me to this OT3, plus those two, plus boxing and my ovaries are on the ground begging for mercy... don’t mind me...

I am rather sorry I wasn’t able to write smut, I swear I honestly tried, but also... I just haven’t felt up to smut till this morning and I think that this fit better without it, so that your imagination can do a better job than my writing (and if you have any request, REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN... I am just very slow at catching up and write fanfic in the middle...).

So that was all and I hope you’ll enjoy this.

WARNINGS: Mention of Sex, Threesome, Jealousy, Poly-Relationship, Jealousy and Envy, Mentions of Substance Abuse and Blood.

Ivar couldn’t help but have a problem with her.

With “her” being his best friend’s girlfriend.

He couldn’t help but have this kind of awkwardness around her.

At first, he had thought it was because he was used to it being only him and Roman, the golden bachelors of boxing, with them always supporting each other through their ups and down.

It was an understatement that he had been less than thrilled to meet the ‘special lady’ Roman had been lusting after since a month.

But she had been truly angelical, and never ever had tried to break apart them, giving to them their own time and their own thoughts, never interfering with their nights-out and being gentle and calm towards him.

On his part he had been quite grumpy with her, mostly due to that uneasiness that he felt whenever she was around.

Mostly in some kind of undressed state.

Such as the one time he had come to wake up Roman early for practice, just to be welcomed by her on the threshold, wearing Roman’s sweatshirt, a bit too big for her and slightly short…

… enough that as she had raised to kiss Roman’s cheeks as a “goodbye” he had caught the elastic of her lacey panties, a cerulean blue that he had dreamed after his workout, coming onto his hand, in the shower.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he got it bad for his best friend’s girlfriend.

But there was no way that she would be even slightly interested into him, not to talk about the fact that Ivar was Roman’s dearest friend and he shouldn’t have even thought about her like that.

That time after he had gotten himself off, he had just felt dirty and hadn’t been able to look either her or Roman in the face for a week.

He had tried avoiding her, but Roman had asked worried, if maybe… he just didn’t like you:

“I mean… she is perfect man, but if you…”.

“No no, Roman, you look great together” he had tried to stop the question, but sometimes Roman would just irk him badly and he would need a cold shower, since the exhibitionist that Roman had always been didn’t save him any details about his fiery nights with her.

One night, he had dreamed about him doing those things with her.

But it had all stopped when he had realized that, in the dream, his legs were working.

And he had been horrified by it enough that he had spent the first sleepless night of many.

He respected Roman with all his heart.

He had been one of the first to believe in Ivar, even with his legs, getting him not only to start his own try-outs, but also continuously supporting him through the entire journey to fame, no matter the fact that he had himself quite some problems, mostly with substance abuse.

That is another reason why she was perfect for him: Ivar hadn’t seen him shoving anything up his nose, since they had started going out and he appreciated her for that.

“Sometimes I wonder whether I am just another pretty thing on his arm” she had mumbled once, after Roman had won the umpteenth match, they had been watching from the stands, just for a flock of girls in scant-clad costumes running up to him, with thrilling screams and promises.

Ivar had seen her truly scared as if she didn’t understand that Roman was the one lucky being with an angel like her.

He would have cherished her enough that she wouldn’t have ever wondered whether she was the only one or not.

But he had just muttered that Roman would never cheat: yeah, he might have a wandering eye, but he would never disrespect her like that.

“Uhm” she had mumbled, not convinced, before coming close to him, closer than he felt comfortable with, since he could totally smell the pretty perfume she had worn, although it would be soon covered by smelly fried food and sweat, something flowery but discreet, with a deeper accent to it “… sometimes I am jealous of you… you know him so well… and sometimes… I can never guess what is going on in that pretty head”.

Ivar had just blushed and shrugged off, before he had moved to the locker rooms to talk with Roman.

“Shit… I am pretty lucky to have her, am I not?” had asked, there, Roman, meanwhile he unlaced his bandages from his hands, confronting with Ivar his technique, since he was the only one, he truly trusted.

“Yeah, you better not forget it” he had mumbled, almost not even thinking about his words, which had taken Roman quite by surprise, and he had immediately shot him a confused look, with his sharp eyes.

“What do you mean?” he had shot back, stretching his fingers and his legs, quickly before slumping up, meanwhile Ivar settled himself onto his crutches, almost wanting to escape this conversation, although he knew it was impossible.

“She doesn’t feel very cherished… with you fawning over those girls, instead of coming to her, once the match is over” he had replied, knowing that he could have simply said nothing, and he would have seen his friend maybe lost his pretty girl.

Then he might have had a chance.

But he knew better than to try out this, since he knew perfectly that it would have destroyed Roman.

He couldn’t do it to his best friend. Just for a girl.

“You mean I need to do the entire “Adriana” thing” had joked Roman, before strutting off the locker room, waiting for him to catch up “I’ll keep it in mind, my dear friend”.

And he had.

For the entire house party, on Halloween he had followed Ivar’s suggestion, remaining attached to his girlfriend, even for the silliest of things: Rocky and Adriana indeed, with her looking like a true angel, even in that awkward and last minute costume, meanwhile Roman comfortably stayed shirtless, joking about both Rocky and him being great boxers.

It was low key awkward for him to be standing between them, but things soon got even stranger, when she leaned onto him, moving softly closer to him to whisper something stupid in his ear, which he didn’t quite grasp, suddenly concerned with the nearness of her hand to the bulge in his pants, spurred by her action.

“… Ivar are you listening to me?” she asked, when she saw his unfocused gaze, and he simply shook his head.

“Sorry the music is just too loud” he justified, before moving away, with the suggestion that he could get them some drinks, which was welcomed by Roman, with full thumbs up, but he used the occasion to get away from them just to breath properly.

Accidental touches like that weren’t something he was unused, but other people avoided him like he had the plague, thinking that whatever he had on his legs might spread to them.

So, he couldn’t help but be a bit shaken by the way she had moved onto him, giving him a good show of her cleavage, although he was sure it was totally accidental.

He truly didn’t understand how could such a girl would go for him, when she could have had someone like Roman.

His friend was one of the best boxers of the year, training and getting his life back from the tunnel of serious drugs he had started his career with; he had been the one sponsoring Ivar’s training, since nobody in his family wanted to support what they had called “his decision to kill himself”, alongside the fact that coaches wouldn’t even try anything with him.

He was too broken for anyone.

Except Roman.

So, he honestly needed to cool himself down, before he stood up to face them, again.

When he came back, she was alone and he made himself a mental note to tell Roman that he shouldn’t leave such precious girls all alone, mostly with him as a big bad wolf, wanting desperately to taster her.

She seemed totally ok, comfortable with him, meanwhile she explained that Roman was on a smoke break.

“Can I ask you something silly, Ivar?” he was low key busy trying to understand whether it would have been considered rude for him to join Roman, leaving her there, or if he could stand next to her, without popping a boner.

There was no chance he could when she smiled like that and blushed so divinely.

“Go ahead” he tried not to seem too affected by it all, meanwhile he played around with his costume, a simple “this is my Halloween costume” sweatshirt, since he honestly couldn’t be bothered by these commercial things.

(He low key had thought about going to the party, in his Viking costume, but he hadn’t wanted for anybody to ask him who the hell he was, alongside somebody spilling his beer onto it).

“Do you not like me?” her shyness could be heard in the softness of his voice, meanwhile she played around with her hair.

He was honestly taken aback by this, but he could seen where this was coming from, although he was sure that Roman had probably just told her that he was simply grumpy.

She took his silence as a confirmation of her thoughts, but this didn’t stop her from moving closer to him, nudging her shoulder against his.

“… you just never seem happy to be around me, and I thought that at first it was simply missing your best-friend, but nothing seems to work”.

How could he tell her that honestly was attracted by her, but had this grumpy persona to keep himself from ruining his friendship with his best-friend?

“It’s nothing personal…” he started, trying to avoid facing her, but she somehow found a way to face him and make him face her: she was pretty headstrong, and Ivar could see why Roman liked her so much.

And why he, himself, did too.

“Then, please tell me, because I don’t want to put some dent in your relationship”.

‘Then please just go around with a bag of paper on your head’ he would have gladly mumbled, but he just couldn’t and before he could do anything, she was damnably close to him and he felt her perfume all over him: she had changed it, to something darker, much more dense, although it was still extremely feminine.

It had remained tangled in her hair and he could see the power of it shifting as she played with them, to keep her mind off, and waiting for an answer.

But he was too focused on her lips: she had worn some kind of red lipstick, which had been roughly smeared by Roman’s kisses and the few drinks she had taken, letting Roman finish them for her, in a disheveled detail that drove Ivar wild.

And crazy enough that with no knowledge of the entire thing he pushed himself to finally kiss those smeared lips, pushing himself onto her with such a strength that he felt her tighten under his hold, before she gently relaxed, somehow her lips becoming warm as if they were accepting his, as they gently delved to return the kiss.

And in that moment Ivar realized that he had fucked up.

For Odin’s sake he was kissing his best friend’s girlfriend!

He pushed himself away, meanwhile she gently looked at him, surprised as if she hadn’t expected it.

Which was probably the reality of the things, since Ivar had kept up this entire “I don’t like you” persona with her.

“So, this is what happens when I go out for a smoke break?” Roman’s voice caught him by surprise, and he felt her tremble against him, since they were close enough, and he pushed himself even closer as if to shield her from Roman.

He wouldn’t be certainly violent towards her, but he wanted to avoid his drunken state making him do something that he might regret.

And in the end, it was all Ivar’s fault.

But as he turned around, he found that his friend wasn’t in the slightest annoyed but instead was smirking, hiding it barely behind a glass of whiskey, he had probably picked up from his smoke break.

“Honestly I was hoping this might happen, sooner…” he mumbled, as he set himself down on the little sofa in front of them, setting his glass down”… it was kind of annoying to see you dance around each other… so painfully awkward”.

“You knew about my crush?” asked Ivar, suddenly realizing that it was true: Roman had known about it all “You knew about my fucking crush and let me fucking continue on this road, you fucked up son of a bitch”.

In the meanwhile, she raised up, looking at both the guys, before throwing a pillow in Roman’s face, who quickly caught it.

“You lead us onto this” realization shook also her face.

“Oh c’mon, you couldn’t expect me not to do anything, after you confessed me that you thought that Ivar was fucking hot in that match in Chicago”.

Her face turned flushed red and Ivar’s mind went back to that match: he had gone down a few times, eventually coming on top of the entire match, with his nose broken and his lips swollen, and he was barely able to stand enough to be called the winner.

He remembered that since it was summer she had worn a pretty sundress, with sunflowers on it, and it somehow had highlighted the type of innocent beauty she owned, and to think that she had lusted for him almost as much he had lusted for her…

… well it was a strong aphrodisiac.

Meanwhile they were both bashing in embarrassment, Roman finished his glass of whiskey, settling it down with enough force that the noise startled them both.

“Now that you know, don’t you want to act out on those fantasies?” he almost seemed the snake that had tempted Eve to eat the forbidden fruit, his own tongue coming up from between his lips, licking them.

“What would you gain from it?” asked Ivar at the same time she mumbled.

“Are you trying to prostitute me to your best friend?”.

Roman shook his head laughing, before he sent a look at Ivar.

“I know that little Ivar here is a bit shy on these things, alongside the fact that he is quite the loyal dog so he is too scared to even go and try anything with you, but I can see that he fucking wants it, and I know that he won’t control enough for longer…” and then his face grew softer, facing her and holding an hand out for her “… I don’t mind sharing, if you don’t, too”.

The choice was in her hands, and Ivar felt like it was already going to be a “no”.

Yeah, she might have returned the kiss, but he was pretty sure that she would be too ashamed to event try anything with him.

She wouldn’t be the first and she wouldn’t be the last to think that

“… you won’t get pissed at me, will you?” she asked, shyly.

Roman shook his head slowly, although Ivar was thinking that he was simply lying.

Roman was pretty territorial with his things and his people, but…

… no sign of annoyance was found in his pretty eyes.

And she gently turned toward Ivar, offering her hands to help him up, which he automatically took, steadying himself, meanwhile he raised from the sofa, and Roman quickly exited from his pockets his car keys.

He was definitely in for a thrill.

When they all arrived at Roman’s apartment, Ivar couldn’t help but feel extremely nervous mostly because he felt like Roman might realize that this was just a HUUUGEE mistake and she might do the same.

But as soon as they were behind closed door, she returned the soft kiss he had laid onto her lips, at the party, with definitely much more passion than what he had expected, gently pushing him against the door, meanwhile Roman chuckled, throwing the keys of his house aside, as he slipped out of his shoes.

Ivar didn’t know what had gotten over you and before he even knew it, her hand had gone back to his thigh, and this time he was definitely unable to avoid popping a boner.

He was extremely thankful that she didn’t move further, although he felt himself almost moaning at the loss of her body against his, immediately cold and her fragrance mixed with her arousal, definitely less strong than when she was all over him.

She swayed her lips to move towards Roman, who looked like he quite enjoyed the show (almost as much as Ivar, who got to see all of her ass), leaning down to kiss her slowly, showring Ivar the entire anatomy of the kiss, as he pushed his tongue gently in hers, after he had bitten her upper lip, soothing the small hurt with a delicate kiss on it.

It was definitely quite arousing and Ivar couldn’t help but be slightly ashamed of his inexperience, immediately comparing his clumsy kiss to their, but he tried to avoid looking further, meanwhile Roman gently pushed her down in an half dip, getting her to giggle for him.

“Don’t be silly, Roman” she mumbled, before turning to Ivar, a bright smile on her face, almost making him blush even a more reddish color, with purple hues “… not in front of a guest”.

“Sweetheart” he gently took all her attention, bringing his hips onto her forehead, facing him as if he was expecting him to do anything and then turned her around, making her giggle “… don’t be a meanie, in front of the guest, or what will he think of us?”.

“That we are heathens” she muttered and then turned towards Ivar, sending him a deep look, before she pushed her lips out, sending a kiss in the air for him to catch “… but I don’t think that he minds it”.

He didn’t and gently pushed himself closer onto his crutches, grinding lightly against her till her mouth opened in a soft “O”, meanwhile Roman hid a smirk in her neck, before he donned it with pretty marks.

He could share but he still needed to mark his territory.

“… I don’t think that you could ever be an heathen, sweetheart” he whispered in your ear, softly, before biting down on your earlobe, making her yelp and push herself closer to Roman, who hugged her tenderly, but his expression held nothing of the sweetness he showed.

“This is just because you haven’t slept with her…” Roman’s smirk was seriously a Cheshire cat’s smile “… yet”.

“Well than shouldn’t you be doing something about it?” she taunted him, smirking softly, before she ran away from the two men, gaining a head start from them both and sprinting towards the bedroom.

Roman and Ivar just shared a look, before they moved to follow her.

Almost bumping into each other in their rush to reach her.

That would be a fun night.