#(thread: tied in a knot)

[vriendenboekjes]

trying ask people about my non soluble stitches that are disappearing into my arm and no one replies to THAT part of the message theyre all like is it red? yeah it's red but THE STITCHES - ok just watch out for an infection ^-^

[skybristle]

love my current rewrite thoughts. incredibly vague and i think i need to rewatch things back to back properly to jumpstart my brain + think of the full picture but i simply dont have time rn

with that said. something so funny to me about my current thoughts being pv scrying and while the other ancient arcs have happened by now gc's Hasn't quite. So something is *deeply* wrong and he can barely sense her in reality [he hasnt looked towards the divine planes,,, lol] and everyone in the vanilla kingdom is sitting at the table ruminating on it and pv is like "but how will we get someone there to see,,,, not many know the way to her hidden kingdom" and they all slowly look towards messenger who just grabs their face like ***GOD FUCKING DAMN IT*** internally and goes to rummage through their closet for their old desert clothing. black raisin is there ofc so its not terrible but. yeah

[thinking about the crushing fear. messenger does all of this out of deep devotion and love for the kingdoms they grew up supporting, even if its ripping them apart. i like potraying them as very tired and annoyed and grouchy which is true but mainly an issue of odyssey where the republic is a terrible reminder and also much more insufferable and they have far less sympathy. gc was their aunt, hell, almost like a mom to them. they have fond memories of mozzarella raising them up to watch the monster games, smoked entertaining their fascination with the culture, playing with basque's hounds as he struggled to 'test' this child properly,,,,] [they have good memories here, of these streets, modified and blindingly bright but all the same. nobody recongizes their face, or pretends they dont, despite being beloved by all]

[it's all deeply disconcerting. not to mention the complete and utter sensory overload and discordination caused by the fact they rely heavily on magic to see]

[crossbackpoke-check]

Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)

art kid luke hughes

[seveneyesoup]

“but a screwdriver needs screws. these lot bound everything with knots”

[theiinkwiitch]

Redoing Vlad’s tag because they make my brain hurt

[hartlow]

why is it so hard to find a corset belt online? most of the ones with the style i want are too expensive, just straight up don't list measurements, and/or they claim they're "one size fits all", which i have a very hard time believing. im considering pulling out my sewing skills from when i was 11 making dresses for my stuffed animals and just creating my own

[ghxstmxchine]

ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ʙʀᴀᴄᴇʟᴇᴛꜱ

ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ is always absentmindedly playing with it, twirling the loose ends around his finger and shifting it from one wrist to the other throughout the day. He’s stressed, being spiderman isn’t easy, but there’s a comfort that comes with the bracelet. He always smiles when he glances down at the beads spelling out your initials, knowing that once this whole stressful day is over he can finally unwind with you later. It’s a constant reminder to keep pushing.

ʜᴏʙɪᴇ keeps it tied around his wrist tight, lost amongst his many silver bracelets and studded cuffs but the pop of color from the carefully chosen threads stands out. It clashes with the rest of his punk persona but he’s always one to favor handmade gifts, sticking it to capitalism or something. But it’s also the fact it came from you that he can’t help but love it, even at the end of the day when he’s shed the studded jewelry and heavy leather jacket, the bracelet stays on. 

ᴘᴀᴠɪᴛʀ treats it like it’s made from solid gold, something to be cherished and worn until the threads have come undone. It’s almost impossible to catch him without the bracelet on, only taking it off when deemed unsafe to wear it. He couldn’t stop talking about it the minute you’d given him the bracelet, quick to interject conversations with other spiders just so he can show off your work with pride. He’s beaming brighter than the sun, there’s something so sweet in how much he adores everything that reminds him of you. 

ɢᴡᴇɴ was more nervous than excited at first, the last thing she wanted to do was break something you put the time and effort into making her. She at first hides it in her drum kit where she keeps all other things she loves, too scared to accidentally ruin it. But you reassure her it’s okay, it’s just a simple threaded bracelet. Just cherish it while she has it, she always has you to make another. She wears it more often now, sometimes coming to you under the guise of having you “fix” it but she just wants to see you.

ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ rolls his eyes when you offer him it, but still begrudgingly holds out his arm so you can tie it onto his wrist. He tells you the minute it gets in the way he’ll take it off, but it’s been tied firmly around his wrist for months with no intention of budging. He may act like it’s just a simple bracelet but you’ve seen how his eyes soften whenever he’s toying with it, a gentle smile wavering across his face as he straightens out the letter beads and makes sure no threads are loose.

ɴᴏɪʀ helps you make it, he’s unsure of what colors he’s picking out but likes the ones that are so different in their shades. He trusts you to make him something beautiful, watching intently as you carefully make the bracelet for him. For him, you focus on design rather than color, the knots pulling together into a pretty daisy chain made from the threads. He’s not sure on whether or not the colors were a good choice, but he’s in love with the sweet little design you made him.

[zeravmeta]

still thinking about this but like how fascinatingly selfish of makoto it is to have not wanted junko to die.

like it's an entirely blink and you'll miss it interaction when it actually happens in the endgame but the future foundation and the general populace want junko dead for what she's done, ultimate despair would relish in the despair of her death, the survivors of class 78 also want her to die for what she personally did to them and even junko herself is ready to die with her absolute high of despair after destroying everything around herself because living is agony

but even then

like it would be easy to see this and just go "oh he's a good person he doesn't want to see even his worst enemy die" but like not only does that ignore a substantial majority of DR1 where makoto does not shut up about how much he fucking hates the mastermind but going forward it's a pattern too: he was fully willing to burn bridges with the future foundation just to save the remnants of despair and cooperated with izuru behind the scenes about it

makoto said he was going to carry the deaths of everyone on his back and to that end makes sure to prevent as many deaths as he can even those that should be his enemies. the choice he made to survive and not lose to despair has done nothing but fuck him over pretty much every step of the way going forward, and it's like junko herself said

junko really did burden him with one last despairful gift in her own death. it was hope for the world but now makoto has to carry even her death with him and he doesn't have it in himself to not continue striving and going forward

you ever think about how makoto naegi can understand anyone but no one understands makoto naegi. and that this is the one fundamental thing he shares with junko enoshima.

[vesearlee]

──── 𝑻𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒚𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒂

To see the well-versed, experienced cardiac surgeon in such a state of distress was a sight you were not keen to experience again, and even at the cost of your shared secret, you would do anything to soothe him and bring him down from the adrenaline high.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── Zayne x Scrub Nurse!F!Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ── 2.1k 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ── Smut, fluff, pet names, secret relationship, power imbalance, innappropriate use of an on-call room, Greyson is so sick of Zayne's shit ➺ Wall, public, desperate sex, creampie, praise, uniform, size kink 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐀 ── @smutconnoisseur (my absolute saviour, thank you for buckling in with my utterly insane rambles) 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒 ── Keep It Down by Migrant Motel 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ── HERE 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ── My first smut I have written in a year, oi vey.

─── 𝑳𝑨𝑫𝑺 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ───

The atmosphere was tense — not unlike any other time within the bustling halls of the surgery floor, but this time, the air was thick with apprehension, a dash of uncertainty for what laid behind the double doors of the operating room. 

As though you could feel the gaze of those above in the observation window, you shivered from nerves beneath the countless layers you wore. The shirt you wore was form fitting, as all scrub wear was, but it felt somehow even tighter, closing in around your throat even with the deep-necked collar. 

In front of you were the immovable and ever-focused figures of your superiors. Both were skilled surgeons and almost indistinguishable while gowned in endless layers, but one stood out in particular — he was straight-backed and intently homed in on the chest cavity of his patient while his deft fingers moved with purpose, going from scalpel to scissors, to thread and needles. The occasional, clear command of: “Suction,” came every few seconds to every minute. 

“Doctor,” a voice spoke, clear and kind in tone. 

“We’re almost finished–” Snip.

Footsteps shuffled around you as a few team members re-emerged in new places to better accommodate the final stages of surgery. This singular procedure had been in the pipeline for months, and naturally, they called upon the most skilled surgeon to undertake it, the chief of surgery himself, Zayne. 

Few knew of the intimate relationship between the chief surgeon of Akso hospital and his dedicated scrub nurse — a secret you desperately hoped to maintain.

Time seemed to melt away in a haze of stolen glances and lingering touches, your history together blurring into an intoxicating mix of professional respect and burning desire. A shiver ran down your spine as Zayne declared the surgery complete, his commanding voice sending a familiar heat through your core. 

He stepped back from the patient, his scrubs marked with evidence of his skilled work — crimson streaks and surgical fluids that somehow made him look even more imposing, more powerful.

“Sir,” you said quietly, outstretching your hands to meet him halfway. Your own gloved hands carefully pulled the soiled gloves from his hands to reveal the scrub cuffs of his shirt.

Zayne strode silently toward the sliding, pressurized door leading to the preparation room. A large metal basin gleamed under the harsh downlights. You watched with concern as he gripped its edge, his wrists shaking from strain. 

The door slid shut with an ominous, loud click, leaving you alone with him in the preparation room. 

Your heart raced as you stepped closer, closing the distance between you both. The fingers on your outstretched hand trembled slightly as you reached for the ties of his surgical gown, and the fabric rustled beneath your touch as you slowly undid the knots at his upper back, then lower, each movement deliberate and charged with tension. 

The scrub gown fell away from his broad shoulders, and your breath caught at your proximity to him while you helped him shrug it off. 

With quick, almost desperate movements, you discarded both his soiled gown and your own into the waste bin, the sudden lack of barriers between you making the air feel electric.

The metal of the basin began to creak under his grip, and his shoulders heaved slightly. “Zayne?” you whispered, resting a hand on the back of his bicep. “Are you all right?”

It happened in a whirl — one moment you were standing beside the trembling figure of your lover, and then, the next moment your feet scrambled to keep you upright against the sudden tug of Zayne’s hand gripping your elbow. “Wait, wait, Zay– What’s wrong?” The question sounded sharp to your ears, and he only huffed in reply. 

His footsteps echoed harshly in the eerily deserted corridor outside of the surgery suite, and the sight seemed to bring his mind back into focus. “Come with me.” 

“Where?” you rushed, still jogging to keep up with his long strides. The determined pull of his brow and set line of his lips stirred something deep within you, but you shoved that thought down with extreme force — you were at work, you scolded silently. “They– Won’t they need you back–?”

“No, Greyson will handle it.” His pace increased, as did the rustle of his slacks. The sound caught your attention, but before you could glance down to make sure he wasn’t leaving the OR suite with contaminated clothes, fingers gripped your chin and forced your face upwards. 

You gulped, the flush of heat that coursed through you had nothing to do with nerves or exertion within the operating room. Deep, hazel eyes bore into your own, and his mouth opened around a few words that made your stomach swoop. “I need you.” 

The outline of his face grew blurry, and you blinked. “I– Uh, okay, um–”

“Now.” 

The force of his pull made a squeak of surprise slip past your tight lips, and you were tugged toward the closest on-call room. “But we’re at work–!”

“I don’t care,” Zayne grit out through clenched teeth. The door slammed open, and you rushed inside, him following right behind you. You noticed his grip was still trembling, the twitch of his arm far more noticeable now that his shirt left nothing to your imagination. 

“But– Oh, shit, Zayne!” Your feet were lifted from the ground, and your hands carded through his hair to ground yourself. The sheer volume of your shout made a sense of fear tear through your middle; being caught in such a compromising situation with your superior would spell disaster. “Wait, wait, baby,” you begged, panting against his lips, but he was not deterred. 

While one hand gripped the swell of your ass to keep you in the air, the other moved towards your neck. “No,” Zayne grunted, tilting your head back with his thumb beneath your chin. His lips trailed from your jaw to your collarbone and back up again. “The only way that I will wait,” he continued, his voice lowering into a husked rasp. “Is if you were to tell me you didn’t want this.” 

“No, no I do, please–” The hand pushing your head back vanished, and you lowered your chin to capture his lips with yours — to tease him even further, you nibbled on his bottom lip and grinned as he groaned low in his throat, a silent curse escaping in a sigh. 

“Be quiet for me then, darling.” 

You giggled and shifted in his grip to help pull down the scrub pants you wore, and they fell to your ankles with ease. The sheer strength needed to make such a move made you swoon, a rush of light headedness forcing you to gasp for air. “How can you–?”

“I need you,” Zayne repeated in a low growl. “I need this—need to feel you.” 

The pressure of his hand on your ass increased, and you felt the flutter of fabric against the back of your thigh, followed by the quiet clink of his belt. “Zayne, please,” you breathed, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. Fabric rustled as the waistband of his slacks shifted and fell to his hips. 

"I know," he whispered. His fingers traced along your clothed cunt, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. A knowing smirk curved his mouth as he felt your arousal. "I can feel how much you want this, already so wet for me, my darling girl, hm? Who knew you were so eager." 

The sudden sound of muffled footsteps made you both freeze, your attention now front and center on the fact you were currently half-way up the wall of an on-call room, legs wrapped around Zayne’s tense middle while he teased your clit with the pads of his fingers. Shocks of pleasure shot up your spine as he circled your clit with precision, and his other hand hastily closed your parted mouth. “Shh, keep quiet, darling. You don’t want them to know how well you take it, do you?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you hissed, the words muffled by his palm. 

Zayne chuckled and stepped closer, the tip of his cock pressing against your clit. “Easy, darling,” he cooed, finally moving his hand away from your mouth. "Open up for me, sweetheart," Zayne murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Let yourself feel everything–” The push of his cock made your eyes squeeze shut. “Yes, just like that, perfect."

A hitched whine caught in your throat as the pressure grew. “Ha– Oh, my god.” Your forehead fell to his shoulder, and your hands moved from his hair to his broad shoulders. “Don’t– Don’t you dare stop–”

“I don’t plan to, but you have to let me in, baby,” Zayne rasped, his breath hot over the shell of your ear. “You can do it—be a good girl for me.”

Shuddering with the onslaught of sensation, you took a deep breath. The gentle coaxes and praise from Zayne made it easier to breathe, and after several, slow inhales, you nodded slightly. “M’kay.”

A soft brush of Zayne’s lips against your temples made you smile dazedly, and you moaned softly as you felt him withdraw, then gasped at the delicious pressure as he pushed back in. “You must’a been all pent up,” you breathed. 

“You have no idea,” he grunted, and then you felt his resolve snap. 

The pitch of your moans increased as Zayne lost himself in you, the slide of the plaster wall while the force of his thrusts kept moving you up the wall behind you pulled at your shirt and exposed your lower stomach — the feeling of his own shirt against the strip of bare skin only made the intensity of your pleasure burn hotter. “Za– Ohmygod, you feel–”

“How you can be so tight, baby,” he growled, his forehead now resting against your sternum. “I can’t last– Fuck, I can’t.” 

The outward curse made you gasp, your heart raced to keep up with the rush of pleasure he gave you. “Give it to me, please—I need it, Zayne, ohgod–”

“You’ll have it.” 

Your scrub shirt rustled and you squeaked as you were pulled back down the wall, now eye to eye with him. “I want to watch you, see how pretty my darling is when she loses herself over my cock.”

“Don’t–” 

“Don’t what?” The few strands of hair that brushed against the very top of his glasses now stuck to his forehead. “I cannot help but be greedy for what’s mine.”

“Oh– Zayne, Zayne,” you chanted, the sudden burn all consuming as the coil in your stomach grew unbearably taut. “Please, ‘m so close, please!”

The sounds and mewls of pleasure that fell from your parted lips were silenced by his own, a kiss that was all teeth and tongue — the feeling of being consumed from the inside out by him blurred your vision around the edges with its intensity. 

“Give it to me, baby. Give it all to me, come on,” he coaxed, voice rough against your lips, and his harsh pants for air only added to the litany of sensations. “Come apart for me, that’s it–”

“Zayne!”

Waves of pleasure crashed over you as your senses overloaded — blood rushed in your ears, your thighs trembled uncontrollably against his sides, and your toes curled in your shoes. Your fingers desperately sought anchor; one hand gripped his broad shoulder while the other tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as ecstasy consumed you completely.

“Fuck, oh god, fuck,” Zayne groaned deeply, his hips stuttering to a stop as your walls clenched around him. “I’m going to–” His words cut off with a guttural moan as he came, flooding you with warmth that triggered another wave of pleasure through your oversensitive body. Each subtle movement of his cock inside you drew out more delicious aftershocks.

“Please,” you hoarsely begged, putting your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. He moaned in reply and tucked his face into your neck, all while rocking in place to ride out what pleasure was left. 

The room filled with your shared breaths and soft moans as you squeezed around him deliberately, making him press even closer. “You're quite unprofessional,” he rumbled against your neck, his smile evident in his voice. “And such a troublemaker too.”

You let out a wicked laugh, ignorant of the footsteps outside in the corridor, and squeezed around him deliberately, delighting in the strangled gasp that escaped his throat. “Oh, that's rich coming from the one who just had to have me against a wall at work. So much for being professional, Doctor.”

“Hush.” ​​His hands slid from your hips to your waist as he let out a breathless chuckle. "If I were you, I would be more careful with that mouth of yours, darling. We still have half a shift to get through." The warning in his voice held a playful edge that made you shiver with anticipation for when he would drive you home.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ── Medical Edition Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Playful Growls • O5 ── MASTERLIST ── Gingerbread Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Finally Kissing Them • G3 ── MASTERLIST ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ "Please." • B4 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Hospital AU • I5 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Desperate Kiss • O4 ── MASTERLIST ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Public Sex • I5 ── MASTERLIST ── Any Fandom AU Bingo (@anyfandomaubingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Hospital AU • I3 ── MASTERLIST ── Under The Sea Bingo (@seasonaldelightsbingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ nuzzling their partner's neck like a cat • G4 ── MASTERLIST

[amandapearls]

𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼: 𝓔𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷 & 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓮𝓷 🌺

My lovely friend @melphss and I were able to commission with insanely lovely art by @jjflorentina

The artist did such an incredible job showing Elain and Lucien in a sweet embrace.

@melphss thought this quote from Elain in ACOWAR reminded her of a quote from Jane Eyre so I attached both of them. I thought it was a lovely correlation.

Elain: “It felt.. strange, like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib?”

Jane Eyre: “I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.”

Link to Instagram post

Characters belong to Sarah J Maas

[ghouljams]

no thoughts just simon roughly undoing your corset at the end of the night. idk how he'd be there without it being seen as improper or whatever or maybe hes your husband but i feel like it'd send me into subspace so quick.. kinda similar to shibari? idk.

The times when he's rough with your stays are few and far between, mostly he unlaces the (newly) double stranded thing with blunt nails that slip against the laces. His own knots so carefully tied keeping you held tight in what may as well be his embrace. His signature is already neatly embroidered on your modesty panel, his words neatly penned in bleeding ink professing all the places his lips would touch. Scandalous delivered before he ever made it to your marriage bed, you might add.

Oh no, Simon is very... deliberate with your stays. Possessive, even. His knot is one you can't undo, one that even he sometimes resorts to pulling between his teeth. It's a security you can't go against, a lock whose only key is held by Simon. He won't even let your maid touch your laces. You sit for him and arch into his touch as he threads one line, then another, and another. His fingers skim your chemise, his breath just barely even. You hang your head to feel his teeth graze the top knob of your spine as he pulls you tight, and takes the first swell of your breath between his fingers.

It's a beautiful thing. A second spine borrowed from your husband's hand. How each crossed thread holds its own knot at the center, how each lace ladders itself to climb up the looping of Simon's signature, his name just barely visible under the knots and laces. No, he doesn't tear at your stays. Swear at them maybe. Tell you he won't tie them so tight next time, a lie. But never tear.

Cut? Well, now that's another thing entirely. And you'd be lying if you said the press of his blade along your spine, slowly carving out your trapped breath, didn't make you squeeze your legs around the hand he'd already buried between them.

[thinemoonshine]

୨୧ 𝓱𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝓪𝐧𝐝 𝓱𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 ୨୧

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ in which (y/n), enhypen's 8th member, and her feminine habits lead to the boys developing their own as well

enhypen 8th fem!member x hyung line genre: fluff type: oneshot word count: 723

bringing her scrunchies everywhere (l.hs & p.js)

"Use this," Jay says upon noticing (y/n)'s struggle and helps tie her long hair up into a loose ponytail as she eats her breakfast.

(y/n)'s brows raise and she emits a closed-lip gasp of surprise, occupied with chewing her rice before smiling gratefully at him when he takes the seat in front of her. "Thanks! Where'd you find it?"

"On the couch," the older replies with his lips pulled into that casual, charming half smile of his.

"I think I saw one on the coffee table too," Heeseung chimes in and (y/n) makes a mental note to check on it. Later on, she does in fact find her scrunchie— and not just one of them but two.

After leaving her scrunchies and hairties practically everywhere, Heeseung and Jay tend to be the ones picking them up or the ones to find them— leading them to unintentionally be her very own scrunchie lockers.

Award shows? Heeseung will probably have a pink hairtie around his wrist, hiding under his sleeve. Jay will probably have some stuffed into the pocket of his pants.

En-O' Clock? Jay has some new scrunchies he randomly bought for her still in his bag while Heeseung picked her hairtie up from the makeup room when she got dolled up.

Basically anytime in the dorm? Oh, the scrunchies are layered on their arms like warmers. They might even be using one for their own hair— just walking around the dorm with a palm-tree on their crown held together by soft, fluffy rubber ties.

using flowery coasters (s.jy)

"Look at these new ones I made! Aren't they cute?" (y/n) asks excitedly while showcasing Jake her freshly made pieces of crochet coasters on their coffee table.

He gasps dramatically with a hand flying to his mouth, eyes widening and brows raising to express surprise before he grins brightly at the girl. "Wow~~ These are beautiful, (y/n)! I still can't believe how fast you made these! They're perfect!"

"Thank youuuuu!!" She elongates her word, emphasizing her gratitude towards him for complimenting her works before she looks up at him curiously. "Which one do you like most?"

Jake gazes down affectionately into her expectant eyes, chuckling at how purely ebullient she is and hums thoughtfully with narrowed eyes shifted towards the choices of handiwork. "I like that one."

He points to one in beige with dark green-stemmed yellow tulips adorning its circular shape and (y/n) gives him the piece before choosing another with the same design but different coloured tulips to match with his.

"We have matching ones!" She chirps, holding hers next to his before she goes to find the other members to gift the remaining coasters.

Jake smiles warmly at her furthering back before at the soft material in his hand. Ever since then, he's left the coaster on the table and uses it whenever he has a beverage. A hot drink, cold drink, bottled, canned or boba— uses it for every type.

If he finds another member using it, he won't hesitate to just snatch it before putting it under his drink aka. 'its rightful place,' as Jake calls it. As the collection grows, so does his greed. He is not sharing.

giving his arm/hand (p.sh)

(y/n) crochets, paints, does diamond art, basically all that artsy d.i.y stuff. And sometimes, she needs extra hands to keep things steady— and somehow, Sunghoon's always there.

"Can you hold this for me?" She asks Sunghoon to hold her crochet hook while she tries to untangle the knot in her thread. He holds it, and very stably too.

She's doing some diamond painting and accidentally knocks her small tray of colourful jewels— Sunghoon already has his hand out, palm facing upright and (y/n) naturally puts her sticky canvas on it like it's a dish, not wanting to accidentally knock it away while picking up a few fallen beads.

They're having a photoshoot and (y/n)'s called onto the set but has a mini fan in her hold— Sunghoon magically appears to take it from her then proceeding to stand obediently at his post, watching her and waiting patiently until she finishes to give her back her stuff.

She's out shopping for clothes and groceries— Sunghoon's there with a shopping basket hanging on one arm and her clothes on the other.

Some even say that Sunghoon's her personal assistant.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[harrysmimi]

Finally Your Husband

Coffee And Pancakes series P16

Synopsis: YN and Harry tie the knots together in an intimate and private ceremony in Italy and they get to hear an amazing news.

Series Master list | More of My Work

YN was nervous.

She was on brink of having a breakdown. Everything was turning out to be so perfect yet everyone was giving her a big hard time.

The way her grandma wasn't attending was a cherry on top for her but her parents were attending. The way it was the people who loved and respected her boundaries and parents giving her a hard time taunting her every little choice. A few of her cousins were attending too, and most of them YN hated. It was just amazing and hell on earth at the same time. They were Harry's Italian villa where he proposed to her.

One of her cousin got drunk and almost tore his scrotum while dancing during one of the pre-wedding ceremonies. Niall was a real helper driving him to the nearest hospital. And two of her other cousins threw a fit of fight when they found out they were wearing the same outfit.

The pre wedding ceremonies were lowkey too. It was a whole week long spiel and a half.

"I don't know why I am nervous!" She whined on the phone with her soon to be husband, her eye welled up with tears. She was all ready and they were just fifteen minutes away from being married.

There was going to be two ceremonies back to back and long night of partying.

"Baby." Harry cooed, "just fifteen minutes okay?"

While he tried his best to assure her everything is going to be fine, it wasn't putting her at ease. Her life was about to change for good.

Just a few years ago she wasn't even interested in seeing anyone (she in fact hated the idea) and now here she is about to marry the love of her life. Everything between fear and pure ecstasy was just running in rounds in her head.

Harry was just two stories down from where she was but she couldn't go see him. YN was having a breakdown. She was nervous thinking what possibly could go wrong as everything has been so smooth sailing.

On the other hand, Harry was nervous indeed but he could manage himself. He had just gotten into his suit as he was done with his hair.

He got a call from Brielle, stating he need to go see his wife (soon-to-be) now. She was having a breakdown. He had quickly put on his coat and headed to where his wife-to-be was.

"Oh my god!" He whispered to himself as he saw her sitting there on the edge of the bed all ready and dolled up, she took his breath away. Even though she was crying. "Angel, you look breath taking!"

She was wearing a white lehenga, and covered in gorgeous jwellery, a soft makeup look with a bold lip.

And that made her son too. "I broke this." She showed him the chain he got her for one of her birthdays and she wanted to wear it as it was so special. It wasn't going to be visible with all the jewelry she was wearing, but still she'd know she is wearing it.

"Hey, it's alright my love." He cooed as he sat next to her. "It's alright. We can get that fixed."

"I wanted to wear it." She managed to whisper between her sobs. "You gave it to me on my birthday."

"I know, but-" he was cut off when YN's brother's wife, Jasmine came in with a sewing box.

"I knew this was going to be handy- oh Harry?" She was quite surprised. "I am sorry, I should have knocked but she is crying."

"No, it's fine." Harry assured her.

"Look we are going to fix it okay for now?" She took YN's necklace. Soon after her mother walked in as well. She helped Jasmine fix the necklace. They just tied the broken ends with a piece of things thread. It wasn't a permanent solution but it was going to work for now. "Come here let me put this on." Jasmine even put it on for her and even attempted to fix her makeup too.

Harry watched the way her mum looked at her. They both looked exactly the same he figured. He just wished she would have spoken with her then, he could tell she wanted to. She had tears in her eyes seeing her daughter as a bride. It just broke his heart a little.

"I will come and get you in a while. And Harry you probably have to be there in a few minutes too." Jasmine informed both, soon her and YN's mum left.

"Hey, you good?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I am sorry." She mumbled, "I think I'm about to get my period. I don't know why I am crying so much."

"Don't say that." He pulled her in for a hug, "you don't have to say that. It's a big day, and it's okay to feel this way."

"This is so overwhelming." She mumbled against his chest.

"I know, but it'll be alright. I'm right here with you, yeah?"

It had just been five minutes Harry had to go out as the ceremony would begin. First it was the traditional Indian way. And then it was Niall officiating their wedding. Everything went as smoothly as possible. Soon YN realised she was panicking for nothing everything was just perfect.

They both cried twice as she walked down the aisle twice.

"You may kiss your bride, Harold." Niall announced as he stepped away.

Harry was quick to pull his wife in as he picked her lips gently before he got her in a bear hug. YN wrapped her arms around him

Her husband has been by her side for the entire day. It was time for their first dance.

"I can't believe we are married now." She said they both swayed to the soft music playing.

Harry leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Mhmm. I am finally your husband."

"Yeah? I am your wife now." She couldn't help but smile sheepishly at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He got flustered seeing her watch him with love heart eyes.

"Can you kiss me?" She asked.

"You know I will." With that he pressed his lips on hers, not shying away that her parents and brother are present there like they used to. She's his woman now and he is her man. "I love you so much!"

"I love you so much!" She reciprocated.

The rest of the night was flawless. Niall and Zayn got drunk off their arse as they danced to Gasolina for the fifth time. The food was amazing.

"You're not going to have anything to drink?" YN asked her husband.

"No, I am done. Had a glass of wine." He shared as he pulled her closer to his side as he watched his former band mates dance like idiots. "Want to stay present." He pressed a kiss on her head.

"Awh!" She cooed.

"Come on guys!" Gemma pulled them both to the dance floor, she was halfway hammered too there. They had a very fun night.

Harry was still on the dance floor as YN retrieved back feeling tired as her adrenaline started to wear off slowly but surely. Her husband wasn't drunk but he was having fun like his friends if not more.

Soon people started leaving to go back to their accommodations and it was just the close family left there to clean up a bit before everyone headed back. As it was Harry's (now theirs) villa all the bride and groom had to do was walking up the stairs to their bedroom.

It was all decorated with pretty candles and flowers. "Oh see the mood is already set for us." Harry announced as he hugged his wife from behind. "To be honest, this wasn't needed I had my eye on you since this morning." He had been worked up all night, actually all day. She looked absolutely dead drop gorgeous in that dress and she is wife now. That all together new feeling.

YN was quick to turn around in his arms. "Yeah?"

"Mhmm." He nodded and pecked her lips gently.

"This is going to be a big hassle to get out of." She reminded him that she is wearing a Lehenga with hundreds if not thousands of pins holding it together.

"Don't worry we have all the time in the world." He assured her as his hand went up her back behind her Chunni as he tugged onto the string of her blouse.

On a serious note, he did help her get out of the heavy outfit. They had a great laugh as it kept tugging on one thing or another. YN finally got out of the lehenga. He was also just in his trousers by now.

"You were wearing sweat pants underneath that the white day?" Harry giggled.

"Yes! And I was still cold." She pouted as she took off her bangles as she was sat on the bathroom counter.

"Awh, my baby!" He cooed, "let's hand this up, yeah?" He nicely hung up the fit on the designated hanger carefully and hung it over the bathroom door. "Now where were we." He went back to her, stepping between her legs.

"Where were we?" She placed the last of the bangles she took off in their designated box as she looked up at him.

"I'd rather show you." With his arms wrapped around her waist he picked her back and walked back to their bed. She laughed feeling his fingers dig into her side tickling her. He gently placed her on the bed as hovered over her pressing his mouth to hers. His hands wandered on her back to unhook her blouse she still had on. "This okay?"

"Yes." She nodded, her hands on his hips as he helped her out of the blouse that's when she noticed the bulge. She was quick to unbuckle his belt and get rid of his pants.

"No let me do the work now." He stopped her, reaching down to the waist band of her sweats and sliding them down with her panties. He got down on his knees as his lips left a trail of soft and eager kisses down her neck to her stomach to her inner thighs. YN let out a soft moan as she felt his mouth on her, his tongue teasing her bud.

Soon enough she was pulling him back to her, he was quick to press his mouth on hers. Her juices are still on his mouth as he pushes his tongue in her mouth, flawlessly dominating over their very heated moment.

"I want your cock in me now." She demanded, propping herself up on her elbows.

He chuckled softly as he undid his trousers and took off his boxers. "Very demanding, aren't we?" He was back on top of her. He lines his tip against her weeping hole as he pushes inside her with ease. "Can never get over the feeling of your pussy on my cock, baby!" He groans softly with his forehead on hers.

YN just let out a soft moan holding onto his shoulders. "Want it to be soft this time." She whispered.

"Mhmmm." He agrees moaning as he could feel her walls pulsing around him.

"Fuck! Right there!" She gasped feeling his cock plunging in her softly yet firmly.

"Yeah, you like it baby?" He looked at her before pecking her lips, earning a nod of satisfaction from her. "That's it baby, lay back and relax. Gonna take care of my wife!"

YN laid back on bed. Harry was quick enough to grab the pillow for her before she rested her head back, not forgetting to keep on with his slow and firm thrusts. Dipping his head down he latched his mouth on her hardened nipple, whilst his hand was busy kneading the other making her back arch.

"Oh yes!" She moaned softly again, gasping for air as she floated away in pleasure.

"Oh yes baby, you gonna cum?" He looked at her again.

"Yeah. I want you to cum in me." She requested. This isn't the first time.

"Yeah? You want me to cum in you baby?" He said getting his hand down to rub her clit making her jolt in surprise.

"Yes please!" She sighed.

"Yeah, almost there baby, urgh!" He thrusts were getting harder and harder as he couldn't hold it back, feeling her pulsing harder around him. Soon he was releasing his load in her pussy with the last few thrusts. "Fuck that was amazing!" He chuckled, still inside her.

"Yeah." She pulled him down for a kiss. "I love you so much Harry!"

"I love you so much!" He kissed again. Rolling over he pulled her in closer. "We are finally married."

"Mhmm." She nodded, looking at him with tired yet love-heart eyes. "We're married now, I can't wait to grow old with you!"

"Yeah? I promise I will love you even after we're seventy." He mumbled softly against her forehead before pressing another kiss on her skin. It was a joke as they danced to Thinking Out Loud by Ed, making her giggling.

"Oh you better!" She warned him.

"You know I will, baby!" He pushes back to look at her, "do you want to get cleaned up and go to sleep?"

"Mhmm." She nodded.

Harry was quick enough to help her get cleaned and helped her get into one of his t-shirts before they were off to bed.

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

Harry woke up feeling super hot for some reason, he back was all sweaty as YN slept closer to him, her face buried in his back.

"Baby?" Harry carefully turned around and moved closer to her wife who was still asleep but shivering and burning up. That was enough to get him out of sleep in an instance. "Baby, you alright?"

"Hmmm?" She sounded.

"You're burning up my love." He whispered.

"Yeah I am cold. I just want to sleep." She mumbled. The worst thing about her was how she managed to sleep through fever.

"Let's go see a doctor first, yeah?" He suggested, "you can sleep when we get back."

"Can we go later?" She mumbled again, pulling the blanket over her mouth and curling up even more.

"Babe, come on now. You're burning up." He insisted, "I promise we'll make it as quick as possible, yeah?"

"I- fine we'll-." She ran off to the toilet and started throwing up.

"Oh no." Harry mumbled as he rushed to her and held her hair back and rubbed her back. "It's alright sweetheart. We'll go see a doctor."

Harry was quick to drive her to the nearest hospital, they were asked to wait luckily there was no rush there and they got in without an appointment. The doctor did a basic physical exam.

"Have you eaten anything recently which might upset your stomach?" The doctor asked as he documented in his computer.

"No, I have been eating healthy for our wedding." YN explained.

"Oh congratulations!" The doctor smiled, "don't worry we'll look into it. Have you tried taking a pregnancy test?"

"Not recently." YN shrugged, suddenly feeling anxious as she looked at her husband. "But I'd be open to one if we can do it here."

"Sure." The doctor nodded. "We'll also get the blood work done if necessary too."

"Yeah. Thank you." YN nodded.

Soon enough a nurse guided the couple to a room where YN can take the pregnancy test in privacy. She was nervous and she was already crying.

"It's okay baby." Harry tried his best to calm her down as they waited for the longest five minutes. "What does it say?"

"It's positive." She started sobbing.

"Oh my god!" He was quick to pull her in the tightest hug ever.

"We're going to be Mummy and Papa!" She mumbled as she sobbed.

"Yeah!" Harry rocked her side to side in excitement.

That was the happiest moment of YN's life there but she was still burning up with fever. Doctor gave her some mild medicines to take and advised her to rest as much as she can.

That's exactly what Harry made her do. He drove her back home to their Villa. Made her feel all comfy as he fixed her a quick meal.

They postponed their honeymoon until YN feels better and is fit to travel and spend their time in and resting and taking in the news.

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

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @onlyangelrihana @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia @kittenhere

[fastandcarlos]

Bracelet Making : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: to prepare for the concert you're busy making friendship bracelets to swap, only for charles to suddenly decide he wants to join you too

Your eyes widened in confusion as the puzzled expression on Charles’ face shocked you. The endless number of beads that you had was more than he could have ever imagined, unable to take it all in. There were so many different colours, designs and letters, you had plenty in front of you to keep you both entertained for hours. 

“What do you think?” You chuckled as you picked up the elastic, taking some scissors and cutting two lengths of it before tapping the space beside you on the living room floor, inviting Charles to take a seat down beside you. 

He did as you asked, his eyes still wide. “How many bracelets do people actually take to these concerts? We’re going to be here all night making bracelets for tomorrow love,” he commented. 

“But it means we can swap them with other people there.”

Charles took the elastic from you, stretching it a couple of times. He followed your lead as he watched you tie one end so that the beads couldn’t fall off when you beaded them together, getting himself into a little bit of a tangle. 

“What’s the point of making these bracelets if we’re just going to give them to other people?” Charles pondered, running his fingers through some of the beads to get a good look at them. 

When Charles told you that he had managed to get tickets to Taylor Swift you were beyond excited, and as the big fan that you were, you wanted to make the most of the experience. Charles thought you were joking when you suggested making bracelets, but now he found himself with no way back. 

“Where do I even start?” Charles questioned as he picked up one red bead and threaded it through the elastic, watching it hit the bottom where he had tied up his knot. 

“Just make it look nice, trust your instincts,” you tried your best to tell him, “It’s fun being able to swap because loads of other fans will have made bracelets too, it’s a thing to swap them to show friendships amongst all of the fans.” 

Charles nodded as he listened intently to you, “that’s quite a sweet reason. I’ve seen a couple of fans doing this at the paddocks before but I never realised that was the meaning behind it,” he then added. 

The room fell silent as Charles looked through a few of your beads and placed them onto the elastic. His eyes looked closely at what he had done, tipping some of the beads off and rearranging the pattern again so that he was happy with what he saw. 

“You seem to be taking this quite seriously,” you laughed, nudging Charles’ side. His head nodded as he picked up another bead to make sure that his pattern was still followed. 

Once it was on, his eyes turned to look at you. “If I’m giving them to other people then I’ve got to make sure that they look nice, I can’t be given people a lazy bracelet that doesn’t look nice.” 

Charles had watched you for the past couple of days as you began to make bracelets for the concerts, dismissing it pretty quickly.

However, as he saw how focused you were whilst doing it, he began to pay a bit more attention, finding himself interested. When you offered the chance for him to do it with you, he soon said no, but it didn’t take long for you to twist his arm. 

“Do I have to give all the bracelets away or do I get to keep some of them for myself?” 

“You can do whatever you want Charles.” 

Charles hummed in acknowledgement as he reached out for another few beads, threading them on with ease. “I think the first bracelet that I make I want to keep for myself, well, I think I want for the bracelet to be yours rather than anyone else’s.” 

Your eyes flickered to what Charles was doing, noticing that he’d picked up a couple of your letter beads. “What are you writing on that bracelet?” You quizzed, putting your own down for a second to concentrate on him. 

“It’s for me and you,” he proudly smiled, twirling it around so that you could get a better look. “So that anyone who looks our way tomorrow knows that you’re mine.” 

Although Charles had managed to get you into the VIP section of the stadium, he still had concerns. He’d seen the way some fans had treated you at races before, and didn’t want for the same to happen at the concert, especially when you were there to enjoy yourself too. 

He’d seen how you played with some of your bracelets before when you got nervous and knew you’d love to do the same with a bracelet that you knew was made by Charles too. 

The silence that stayed between you both had Charles worrying, concerned that he’d done the wrong thing. “If you don’t like it, I can make it to give to a fan instead, I’m sure you’ll end up with hundreds of bracelets tomorrow night anyway love.” 

Your head immediately shook as Charles spoke. “No. I’d love to wear it. I just didn’t think I’d be the first person that you’d think about when making a bracelet.” 

“You’re always the one occupying my mind,” Charles mused. 

Your eyes rolled as Charles’ attention turned back to his bracelet, determined to make it perfect for you to wear, and hopefully want to show off too. 

It was fascinating for you as you watched the concentration on Charles’ face, a look that you had only ever seen before when he was behind the wheel and fighting for that P1 position. 

After a few minutes, and a bit of a mess from Charles as he tried to tie his bracelet together, he was done. He proudly called your name, stretching the bracelet so that you could slide your hand into it, letting it sit perfectly around your wrist. 

Your smile was wide as you turned your wrist to admire what Charles had made. “This is beautiful Charles; I don’t think I’m going to need any more bracelets for tomorrow now.” 

“Don’t be silly,” he laughed, relieved to see how impressed you were by what Charles had made. “I bet there’s some awesome bracelets that you’ll be given tomorrow, I barely know what I’m doing with all of this.” 

“But none of them are made by you,” you reminded him. 

Charles leant across and pressed a kiss to your cheek, only for your head to come down and rest on his shoulder, forgetting about what you were doing for a few moments. 

“You should make some more of these, I bet they’ll be a few of your fans there tomorrow who would love to have a bracelet from the hottest F1 driver in the world,” you teased. 

Charles’ eyes widened again as you spoke, poking against your cheek. “Maybe one day when I retire I can just go into the bracelet making industry, set up a stall at the entrance to the paddock or something.” 

A chuckle came from you as you listened to Charles’ suggestion, “you’d make a fortune, I bet. I’d say that the bracelet that I’m wearing right now is probably worth a million pounds.” 

Charles’ smile turned up as he watched you fidget with the bracelet that you wore, exactly like how he expected you to. “Come on, we’ve got more bracelets to make, I want to exchange as many of these as possible tomorrow to make some people smile.” 

“How are you somehow more enthusiastic about bracelet making them I am?” 

Charles shrugged, “I’ve got the bug now, I get why you enjoy it so much.” 

“By the way, Taylor would be proud of you making all of these.” 

“I bet she doesn’t even know who I am,” Charles protested. 

“Everyone knows your handsome face, trust me.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[marypaol]

Strings And Knots

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: Reader makes a bracelet for Draco, and, surprisingly to her, it lasts throughout all their years of Hogwarts.

Warnings: Mention of death, war, murder, suffocation, air pollution, destruction, emotional/physical damage, but overall fluff! (Until the end it’s kinda sad but it ends quite well- just a sad mood.)

Note: I know I did the whole Divination thing wrong since they do it for every month but that’s okay. And I really love this one it’s gotta be in top five favorites! Maybe top three!

Masterlist

Request Requirements

One: The Making

Year: First

Her fingers worked carefully on the thread, the rough texture feeling slightly scratchy against her fingertips. Her hands were red and almost dry, twisting them together before pulling the knot up, securing it as it joined the design she was creating.

She wanted it to be perfect, despite her just learning about a week ago, but each day she practiced a bit and she could tell she was slowly improving.

She grumbled when the strings tangled together and she once again separated the colors. She could use magic, her wand sitting on her bed on top of her Charms and Potions book, but she made it her personal mission not to use the wand, for she wanted it to be made by her very hands, that way the finishing product would be much more meaningful; to her and to him.

Her fingers burned and the tips turned red as she tied the finishing knot at the bottom, taking a pair of scissors afterward and snipping the axis thread, the extra string flying off the once was connected bracelet and landing on her robes. This time she did use the wand, pointing them at the strands and made them disappear with a flick of the tip.

-

“Good, you’re here, look what Potter is doing, hanging around that giant again; honestly, how could you tolerate-what are you doing?”

She was half listening, her fingers focusing on tying the bracelet she made around Draco’s wrist. He made a face she didn’t see, taking his arm to his eyes once she was finished.

“What’s this rubbish?” He snarled, eyes looking disgustingly at the thread on his wrist. The girl rolled her eyes, being used to his on-the-daily-attitude.

“It’s not rubbish,” she protested. “It’s a bracelet. A friendship bracelet to be exact.”

Draco still didn’t wipe the disturbed look off his face, looking down at the thread with uncertainty.

“Look, I have one too; just switched colors.” She said, showing her own by pulling up her robe sleeve, hoping to assure him that out of the two of them he wasn’t the only one wearing a bracelet.

He looked at hers, something in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “Well? What does it mean?” He asked, still looking at the strands on his arm.

The girl shrugged even though the meaning of them meant everything to her. “It represents friendship. Ya ever heard of it?” She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as she looked at him.

He scowled. “Of course I’ve heard of friendship. We are friends, aren’t we?”

She smiled. “Yeah, why do you think I made it for you?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well I will admit I like being friends with you but I’m not sure about walking around with this on my wrist.”

The girl looked down at the bracelet she made herself, the strands not seeming so exciting and meaningful anymore, they seemed to be mocking her now, screaming at her that Draco wouldn’t want to wear some silly bracelet.

“Right…” She whispered, chest squeezing. Draco scoffed, leaning over and picking up her chin with his index finger. She looked at him, eyes uncertain and anxious.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t wear it- at least it matches my robes.” He stated, looking down at the green thread and then at the knitted badge of Slytherin on his chest, mouth twitching but she could tell it was his form of smiling. Her lips stretched wide, eyes sparkling. This time his grin broke, but it was small, nice and toothless.

Two: The Sighting

Year: Second

“Snape assigned another essay, I can’t believe it.” She complained with a light scowl in her voice, plopping her books down on the table beside the fireplace, sitting down on the emerald green couch, the surface silky beneath the skin of her hands. Draco grumbled in agreement to her protests, eyes scanning the paper of the Daily Prophet. She always thought it was interesting, him being so young and reading all those kind of grown up things about the Ministry. But it came with an upside: she could always get updates from him about what was currently going on in the Wizarding world. She leaned forward, finger tapping his knee lightly.

“Anything good today?” She asked, neck craning to meet his face behind the stack of papers, moving pictures all around the pages. He shook his head, folding the Prophet up carefully before throwing it onto the table, right next to her textbooks.

“No,” He replied. “And I bet there is, just wait till my father tells me. And that Chamber, he never tells me anything these days.”

It was her turn to agree with a complaint between the two of them.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do, right?” She tried to assure, but Draco wasn’t one for the ‘look on the bright side’ pep talk. She always knew that, but what she also knew was that it was worth a try.

“I wish there was something I could do.” Draco snarled, lips twitching irritably. She smiled lightly, getting off the couch and sitting the floor, pulling her parchment out with a quill and ink bottle.

“How ‘bout that essay, mm?” She hummed, voice smooth and he nodded, still looking like his head wasn’t with her. She watched him as he looked at of the window for a moment, the tallest one in the Common Room, the evening sun providing a warm glow to the space. His hand went to his head, lightly scratching his ear, when she then noticed the worn out thread on his wrist, green and slightly dirty, displaying its age. She smiled. “You’re wearing it.” She noted, and watched as his head snapped to her, eyes moving from the knotted strings to her face.

“Well we are friends, aren’t we?” He replied like it was a silly observation, shrugging half-heartedly but something brewed in her chest as he joined her, getting his things out for the essay they were about to write. It was something her young self wouldn’t be able to recognize, but it was similar to when her mother smiled at her in the morning, or how her father kissed her hair before leaving for work.

Her older self would know, oh yes, and that older mature young lady would call it love.

Three: The Teasing

Year: Third

“No.” Draco’s voice burst out as she hovered a very reactive ingredient over the cauldron, the potion brewing inside just the right temperature for him to add the alligator heart, dropping a few chunks inside. She grimaced in disgust.

“I was joking.” She then insisted.

“No you weren’t.” He instantly said, looking at her as a way to say “try me”.

She snorted, cutting up an herb he gave her. “I wasn’t actually gonna do it.” She tried to convince, yet he wouldn’t take her excuses, shaking his head.

“Yes you would; then we would end up like Seamus.” Draco responded and she chuckled, looking down at the herbs again so she failed to notice the soft smile on his lips.

“Got a friend, Malfoy? Who’s the lucky person?” Pansy’s voice suddenly broke out, and, the two Slytherins turning to her, saw her long skinny finger pointing at Draco’s wrist, a teasing glint on her face. Draco scowled at her, shooting her daggers with his grey eyes.

“Shut up Parkinson.” He spat, and she shut right up, cheeks flushing. “Not like you have any friends, bet you wish you did, don’t you?”

Pansy’s eyes glossed over but neither of them seemed to take care to it, yet the girl felt a small, very small I tell you, peck of empathy.

Pansy dismissed herself from the classroom right then, crying her eyes out.

The girl turned to Draco. “You didn’t have to be so harsh, ya know.” She whispered. She saw him look at her.

“Yeah I did. Surprised she didn’t say anything about yours.” He said softly, nudging her wrist that had the thread on it.

The girl scoffed quietly. “I’m a girl, it’s normal for us to have silly jewelry on.”

Draco’s pale eyebrow shot up. “‘Silly jewelry’?” He quoted. “So our friendship is silly now?”

The girl felt a pinch of regret hit her. She quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He still had an absence of a frown on his lips, but he believed the reassurance that she provided when she gave him a kind apologetic smile.

“Good.” She heard him mutter, most likely for her to not hear, but she thanked Merlin her ears picked up on it.

Four: The Admiring

Year: Forth

The Divination book was open in front of her, propped up against her bag that was lazily thrown on the table moments prior. The usual presence of Draco wasn’t met, since she was keeping herself busy while he attended Quidditch practice. The sun was still shining, though it was evening and after supper, through the green see-through curtains.

The Professor wanted them to write predictions on how their future would go, and all she came up with was that she would “experience a heart warming moment” and that “something she dearly loved would break”.

Her eyebrows were furrowed tightly, and just when she about decided to start making them up, the Common Room entrance opened, a certain platinum blonde coming into view, broomstick hung over his shoulder. His face was twisted with exhaustion, yet once his eyes met hers she saw a different expression in his eyes, relief perhaps, for she often didn’t know how to read his eyes, despite them being friends for four years.

He blooped down across from her, next to her bag so he was still in sight. His hand was now dug into his hair, eyes fluttering but he still was able to look at her. She stared longer than she should’ve, but the sight was too warming to her chest, watching his tired eyes gaze upon hers with such softness no one would ever be able to see but her.

She had her right arm on the table, flipping through the pages of the book with her other hand.

“Divination?” Draco asked, peering over at the work she had done. She nodded, and at that moment she yawn came over her.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m about to start making it up at this point.”

Draco chuckled, reaching up and lazily rubbing his eye. “Agreed; kinda stupid really.”

She nodded once again, starting to get too tired to talk. She scanned the page that was open in front of her, spotting the sentence “you will witness a break up between two strangers” and thought that was good enough. The other predictions spoke to her but this one didn’t seem to do such, for she was at that point picking random ones out to write down. She was focused on writing, so such so that she didn’t notice Draco lay his arm down, close to her hand but the skin wasn’t close enough to brush. She also didn’t notice his grey eyes moving from his wrist to hers, the matching thread being admired scanned with his eyes.

She looked up them, feeling his finger tips brush her robe sleeve, and she met his eyes.

“What are you looking at?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing only to curve even deeper than before when he quickly responded, a little too quickly.

“Nothing.” He said shortly, taking his arm back. She held a confused expression but didn’t pry on the subject.

“Can we go to bed now?” He asked abruptly, trying to change the topic of conversation. She hummed, packing up her now finished work and putting it in her bag. She stood up, about to grab the bag when Draco beat her to it, his pale hand gripping the strap.

“Thanks.” She muttered, suddenly feeling a small flush appear over her cheeks.

“For what?” He asked, confused, like he didn’t know he just did a kind deed.

She scoffed at how oblivious he was. “For carrying my bag. You don’t have to do that.”

It was his turn to scoff, lips twitching in slight annoyance. “Well we are friends, aren’t we?”

Five: The Breaking

Year: Fifth

The Hogwarts Express seemed to vibrate underneath her, the engine coming to life as it was ready to ride on. Everyone was excited for the upcoming year, happiness flooding their features and chests.

She, however, grew worried when she didn’t have the usual company of her friend, not having seeing him yet. She didn’t spot him in the platform or while she was walking along the hallways of the train, going to their usual compartment. She was thinking he went with his other friends, perhaps he wanted to catch up with them.

But she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, since he always at least met her before each year, in the same seats on the same train in the same compartment. Why was it different this year?

She looked out the window, miraculously thinking maybe he was running along the train’s side, yelling for it to stop so he could catch up. But of course that wouldn’t happen since the boy was always on time, so he must be on the train, just not with her.

The compartment door opened abruptly, causing her head to snap in the direction of the noise. Draco stood there, in a black suit, black tie, and black shoes. He strolled over to the seat and sat across from her, leaning his hands on the table in front of him. This all happened just in time as the train started churning, wheels turning and gaining speed as it headed off to the school.

“Where have you been?” She asked, unable to hide the worry in her voice.

“I was looking for something.” He answered simply, looking a little irritated.

“For what, exactly?” She asked, getting annoyed as well, the irritation brewing in her chest as he once again left her with no answers.

“I was looking for this.” He said sharply. He had slapped something on the table for her to see, the green thread immediately recognizable between his fingers. It was the same as it has always been, dirty as it went through the years but the knots stayed true. The only thing was that the bottom was broken, the knot becoming undone.

“Can’t wear it if it’s broken, right?”

She was half listening, still gazing at the strings that were on the table. She grabbed it gently between her fingers, caressing it like a baby and analyzed the damage.

“It fell off on my way here.” He explained, kind of annoyed that it did such thing at such an inconvenient time.

“I can fix it.” She said quietly, surprised he still possessed it. “I just can’t believe you still have it.”

“What, you don’t have yours?” He asked, looking a little hurt beneath the annoyance that she’s so surprised at that occurrence.

“Of course I do,” she started, and missed his eyes going to her arm to see if it was there, and she was telling the truth. “I just didn’t think you’d-“

Draco groaned, rubbing his head with his hand and looking at the window, grey eyes reflecting the sun’s warmth. “We are friends, aren’t we? Honestly…”

She looked down at the bracelet, the knots worn down and dirty, but the meaning stood true. She didn’t know what it was, but somehow her mind went back to her Forth Year, working on her Divination homework, and writing down “something she dearly loved would break.”

She supposed her made up predictions weren’t made up after all.

Six: The Decision

Year: Sixth

“This is stupid.” Draco’s voice blurted shortly, looking down at the homework in front of him, the essay’s words seeming to combine in his mind, creating an annoying jumble of ink.

“I know, but Slughorn insisted.” She reminded, causing his silver eyes to roll in the back of his head. He quill lazily sat on his hands, twirling it mindlessly out of boredom.

She noticed his robe sleeve rolled up at the action, wrist muscles twitching and moving as his fingers worked the quill.

The bracelet made of thread was not only repaired but still sitting on his wrist as good as ever, the green shining the meaning of it. Just looking at his made the feeling of her own on her skin a lot more noticeable, heart warming at the sight.

“Do you want me to make you a new one?” She asked, and when he turned to her she gestured to the strands that were getting older by the day.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply, displaying large amounts of confusion. “New one? Certainly not.” He replied. “This one’s just fine; don’t know what you’d think that, really.”

She smiled soft but it was unsure. “You sure? Cause I was thinking about making myself a new one.”

Draco scoffed but looked a little frustrated. “Scared of a little dirt?”

“No.” She replied. Draco then nodded towards her wrist.

“Then it stays. Mine’s as old as yours.”

Seven: The Pulling

Year: Seventh

The air was musty, ash seeping the air, suffocating the lungs of beings who breathed it in. Of course no one cared at the moment; the air pollution the last thing on their minds. The living breathing representation of evil was standing in front of them, laughing like what was happening was his dream come true. Because, realistically, it was. Deaths, damage, emotional and physical, destruction, all of it was part of his dream. To end it all and face the boy who lived, and all for what. Just so he can kill the boy who he was trying to murder ever since he was a baby?

It wasn’t that the girl was paying much attention as the living evil spoke, too busy staring at the ground that inc held healthy green grass, grass that her and Draco used to pick at while they complained about classes they had that day. Or any day for that matter. Sometimes his long skinny fingers would dig into her sides, wiggling until he heard the sound of her laughter, something he may never hear again because of the cold voice calling him.

His mother. His father. The living evil.

He stepped forward, ready to leave the cruelty of his peers and the burning stares he just knew where there. His head swam with so many emotions but he didn’t have time to look them through, just focusing on walking to the other side, the other side where evil doings were being performed. The other side that he didn’t have a choice but to be on.

He was gonna go, he really was, despite the soft tug he felt on his wrist, and, looking down, saw her index finger hooked underneath the thread of his bracelet as she pulled, the knots begging him to stay along with the maker of them. He met her eyes despite the emotions crashing his rib cage, threatening to get to his heart, but he held the gaze all the same.

“Stay.” She said softly, eyes swirling, knowing all those years with him weren’t for nothing. She didn’t last all those times with him as a child or teenager just for him to walk away.

“Why.” He muttered back, voice dry as ever so much so that he felt like his throat was filled with sand and he was speaking through the tiny rocks. She answered with a small smile, something so small making him plant his feet on the ground, making him stay away from the living evil on the other side….making him have a choice.

“Well, we are friends, aren’t we?”

[heartkaji]

SNEAKY LINK ★ k. bakugo

bakugo should’ve been here thirty minutes ago.

it’s thirty minutes later & you’ve got snowflakes crawling up your throat. you exhale warm breaths through chapped lips & watch smoky condensate disappear into thick air. your nose is peach dappled & your cheeks are freezing.

bakugo should’ve been here an hour ago.

it’s one hour later & your tongue is frozen & your cheeks are blood drenched & drugstore lip balm feels dry against your lip. you wipe your nose & pretend the night isn’t freezing & hope to god you won’t wait forever.

“you’re still here ?”

bakugo comes in like a thief in the night. his baritone has your bones shivering, (or perhaps it’s the cold) & you look up at him with bleary eyes. katsuki bakugo looks warm. you can smell spiced latte in his breath & dark chocolate pricks at your nose. you sniffle a little & hope he doesn’t notice.

“you’re late.”

“i know,” he breathes. “had to help priscilla sort out the kids.”

it’s easy to forget pro-hero bakugo katsuki is a taken man with wife & kids. his ten fingers are always bare & calloused so it’s easy to pretend katsuki is yours. tonight however there’s snow sticking to your boot heels & you wish katsuki would stick his mouth shut too. you don’t want to hear her name. not tonight.

not any other night.

“right. when are you getting that divorce again ?”

the sound bakugo lets out is close to guttural. his eyes are everywhere but yours so you have to remind yourself that body language isn’t all it seems. he’s scratching at his nape & his adam’s apple drags up his throat but body language isn’t always as it seems. he never answers so you let the question die.

“are you ready to skate ?”

katsuki nods. for the first time tonight his eyes meet your own & all of a sudden the night’s a little warmer. he presses gloved fingers to your forehead and you squeeze your eyes shut. the burn of the leather is grueling.

“you’re freezing,”

“i wonder whose fault that is,” you mutter, but katsuki has a hearing sharper than icicles. he cups your cheeks in burning leather & worn out goat fabric. your cheeks are blood drenched & your lips are teeth bitten & even like this katsuki thinks you’re beautiful.

“don’t wait for me next time, okay ?”

“okay.”

katsuki leads you with an iron grip. his thumb brushes over your knuckles occasionally so you don’t have the heart to tell him his hold is bruising. your wrist is aching but the night is quiet so you choose to focus on other things : a meow in an alleyway. groans of dying trees. the feel of a ring wedged between gloved fingers.

oh.

you don’t dare to comment. katsuki never wears his wedding ring—at least, not around you. you tread through winter with gloveless hands so the promise ring on your right index gleams brighter than ever. katsuki brushes over it occasionally & you squeeze at your chest & try not to vomit. your vocal chords slosh against your throat like blood.

“we don’t have to go skating today.”

“too late, we’re already here.”

you rest on the bench with wobbling knees. oak wood splinters dig at your thighs but you suppose the pain is neccessary. katsuki’s eyes are trained on the lake. it’s frozen & a shade similar to blue bells but it only serves to remind you of katsuki’s wife. you’ve seen her once before & she had eyes as blue as starlight. you hope one day she’ll crash & burn like dead comets.

you wonder what katsuki is thinking about.

you’re about to call his name when he gets on one knee. your heart skips for a minute until he begins tugging off your shoe. he ties the ice skates with a firm knot & you resist the urge to thread a hand through his hair. heaven knows his honey-gold locks will sting your skin & bite you back.

he presses his lips to your knee, “you ready ?”

“i’m ready.”

pro hero bakugo katsuki is a professional at things beyond heroism. you’re a wobbling, stumbling mess & you haven’t even made it to the rink yet. your cheeks are cherry bruised. katsuki doesn’t comment & you’re not sure if you should be happy or sad because you don’t want to be called a fool but the silence is deafening. you grip his shoulders to stead yourself & katsuki hoists you up like a sack of fresh peaches.

“damn you, making me come out here when y’can’t even skate yourself.”

you smile. his mouth is sharp but his touch is gentle. his thumb glides against your lower back. “will you teach me, kats’ ?”

katsuki eyes you. he lets out a sound akin to a scoff but it might be more of a grumble. “too much of a hassle, i’d rather just carry you.”

you nod. he sighs.

bakugo is strong. he glides along the ice with your figure in his arms but he never stops to break a sweat. you want to ask him if his muscles are aching but the ice on your tongue hasn’t thawed off yet. bakugo is beautiful—occasionally he does a little spin on the rink just so you’ll giggle & clutch him a little tighter. you swear you saw him smile the third time you laughed out his name.

bakugo should’ve left thirty minutes ago.

thirty minutes later he’s still here by your side. the white chocolate mocha between your palms is burning but the cold stings at your fingertips the moment you let it go. you take two sips & offer katsuki the rest—he scoffs at you because aren’t you the one who said you needed a drink ? but takes the cup between his lips anyway. he takes two sips & presses his lips to your face. your nose is pink & your cheeks are burning.

bakugo should’ve left an hour ago.

it’s an hour later & he draws shapes on your palm through goat glove fingers. you’re back on oak-thorn bench but this time your thighs are over katsuki’s so the wood can’t pierce your skin. ‘you should’ve worn some leggings,’ he grumbles, but his thumb grazes your thighs in the shape of a starfish. you hope his touch will burn you forever.

bakugo is leaving now.

all good things must come to an end, you suppose, but tears stream down your face like new waters. katsuki rolls his eyes. he hates it when you get like this & he hates that he makes you get like this & he hates that—

“fucking hell, just get over here.”

you dive into his arms & for the third time tonight bakugo rolls his eyes. you’re shaking & hes not sure if it’s a shiver due to cold or a quaking due to tears. your knees are wobbly so he tightens his hold on your hips & prays your legs won’t give out. heaven knows his arms are already aching.

“hey, look at me.”

there’s mascara smeared across your cheeks & your lips are swollen purple. your nose is runny & crystal frozen & bakugo thinks you’re absolutely beautiful.

“what are you crying for ?”

you’re crying even harder now so bakugo mentally slaps himself. “y/n, look at me.”

& you do. he cups your cheeks with gloved palms & kisses your nose, cheek, forehead. his mouth traces everywhere but your lips.

it’s always everywhere but your lips.

but you don’t complain, you never do. you don’t complain because in your head katsuki’s lips meet your own & your mouths bleed into each other’s forever. in your head, katsuki hugs you tight & shields you from the evening snow. in your head, katsuki is yours & you are his undoubtedly.

“same time next week ?”

not all dreams come true but with enough belief you know that yours will manifest. your chest is tight & you hope your heart won’t bleed forever.

“always. and next time, katsuki ?”

“what is it ?”

“don’t be an hour late.”

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload