#also sorry for ruining your childhood favorite book

[vampni]

WHO DID MR D FUCK???? Was it a camper? It’s gotta be right??? Pls no i don’t wanna.

Evidence:

Mr D can’t leave camp

mortals can’t enter camp

god + nymph/satyr/dryad = weird freak not halfblood

god + human = halfblood

Mr D has biological kids at camp right now

Who’s the mom??? WHAT is the mom???

[edgeray]

HI, first of all, i love your write so much 💕💕💕💕💕, you're so creative, please, as long as you feel good writing, write!!! You are very good at it, and you feed Arle stans so weel.

Second, did you by any chance watched bridgerton ? If not, just ignore it, it's more to give a historical context (and dresses in beautiful scenery, for sure). Bridgerton is a period show (and books) that takes place at the beginning of the 19th century (1810-1820) [Although, I think Arlecchino would fit even more within the context of the Victorian age, but I think it might be an idea saved for another request]. Given the context, I believe my request becomes clearer :

Arlecchino who pretends to be a man (dressing and acting like one) to get married to the reader.

It's not news to anyone that Arlecchino is part of a powerful nobility family and it's also not news to anyone that she hates playing the female role given to her (and I can't imagine her wearing the fluffy dress ever!!!!), so seeing her childhood best friend become the diamond of the season (basically the favorite debutant of the season for both the queen and the suitors, in a very short way) She realizes that she needs to enter the marriage market too, in this case to fight for your hand.

Please feel free to change any part of the order, I don't want this to become boring for you to write.

So thank you for share your works and read it, (can i?) 🪷anon.

Courting a Lie

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N- Of course you can be 🪷 anon! Thank you for your kind words. I aim to feed. Arle for everyone!! Sorry that this is super late… I will assume the reader is female for this because a debutant is a woman. Also didn't know how to make it GN! since there's no gender neutral aristocratic titles as far as I know. Sorry GN! readers :(  While I haven't watched Bridgerton, from your description of the era, I've read quite a few manhwas set in a European aristocratic society that sounds just like this. I get the general gist of what you're saying from those manhwas so I drew some inspiration from there.  I've never really written for a historical fiction AU so we shall see how this goes. Apologies in advance if it is cringe. I did change a few things for the plot, but not because it was boring, more because of my own plot/backstory building. I actually had a lot of fun researching random bits for this request, and this request is among my most developed and thoughtful works on Tumblr! Still don't know how to dialogue though… I really liked writing this kind of setting so I would be pretty happy if a part 2 of this was requested... how did I do in terms of writing this? hopefully not too far from bridgerton?   Content warnings / info - arlecchino is referred to as a man and uses masculine pronouns for a little bit, 2.0k words

You don't quite remember what occasion it was when you first met her. Perhaps it was a charity ball or some celebration. Either way, you were at most eight years of age when you met your first friend, a quiet, petite child hiding in the corner of the Snezhevna Estate's garden, ducked nearby a bush. You wandered away from the garden party, as you couldn't find any other children your age that weren't pestering, so you explored the edges, admiring the flowers. 

You stumbled upon a white haired child, with her white dress sullied by her kneeling on the dirt. Similarly, her pale hands were soiled, as if she had dug into the earth with her fingers alone. You nearly gasped at the sight–no lady would ruin their dress so carelessly, especially a dress seemingly adorned as hers. Nevertheless, you were in awe of the courage to do so. Was it possible she wasn't educated well? It'd be damaging to her family's reputation if anyone were to see the condition of her apparel.

You approached her carefully, your voice small in hopes that you wouldn't sound rude. 

“Hello,” you greeted first, and the child turned her head over her shoulder, gazing at you. 

Your breath hitched as you glanced at her eyes, each black pit filled with a red cross in the center that made you suppose she didn't fit into any aristocratic family. You didn't know of any noble family that had such eyes, and it's only been known from noble families to hold particular sets of eyes. Did this girl really belong to nobility? 

“I know I'm not supposed to be in the dirt. Now leave me alone,” she says before turning away, her voice sounding far too monotone and androgynous for you to consider her a young noble lady. Nonetheless, the clear difference between her and the other guests of the function intrigued you. She was educated, or at least it seemed like it, but she had a disregard for creating a good impression. You ignored her request, instead, plopping yourself down beside her to see what it was in the dirt she was so interested in. 

“What are you digging in the dirt for?” You asked. She slumped, as if irritated by your persisted presence. 

“I'm looking for bugs. So go away, unless you want a spider on you,” she warned without looking at you, with the evident expectation her threat would ward you away. 

It did not, in fact, deter you. If anything, you pressed on, your expression contorting to that of fascination. “What kind of bugs?”

That seemed to snatch the young girl's attention as she turned to you, widened eyes as she observed you, searching your face for any lies. She couldn't believe that there was someone else who could be so ‘lady-like.’ Her apathy returns shortly after, and she glances back at the mound of dirt before her. 

“Young ladies aren't supposed to be interested in pests or dirtying their hands,” the white-haired child states, but it seems more like a recital of someone else's words. 

“Maybe. But it's fun, right?” You replied, offering her a small smile.

Although she still didn't face you, you watched her eyes gleam with life. Your grin grew in accordance. 

“So… you like bugs?” She questioned as she cups a worm she managed to uproot. 

“No way. Not touching them,” you shutted her down immediately and she pouted as you shook your head vigorously. 

“But… I thought you were better company than those other kids. So… I hope you don't mind having me too much?” you sheepishly remarked, wincing a bit at your apparent nervousness. In response, the girl huffed, gracing you with a faint smile. The sight sent flutters through your stomach, filling you with a rush of giddiness you never felt before. 

“Just don't scream, okay?” Is all she answered back.

And that was how you befriended the bastard daughter of the Snezhevna family. Since then, the two of you have been exchanging letters, and met each other at every possible social gathering in secret. Although your family discouraged meeting her so often, you ignored them. However, when you had just turned twelve, her letters stopped, as if she disappeared. You asked Marchioness Crucabena about her daughter, and all you received from the matriarch was a cold cut message: Peruere was receiving ‘education’ for indefinitely. 

Your heart sunk as you crinkled the letter in your hands, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of never seeing your dear friend again. Where had Peruere gone? You hastily wrote another letter, inquiring more about the education or if Peruere could write you back, but the Marchioness would not indulge you with additional information, essentially telling you to mind your business and to stop writing to her. 

You remember weeping into your pillows for the entire night until your eyes dried up, red and puffy from rubbing them constantly. You were haunted by memories of star gazing, of laying on the garden grass, of lounging in one another's arms. Your few moments of bliss were gone forever, stripped away with her absence. 

— 

Pureure always wished she wasn't born into a noble family. Aristocratic society was tedious and pretentious. Why her father ever chose to engage with something as disgusting as the Marchioness, it most definitely wasn't out of love–a fabled concept among nobles really. Peruere knew little of what happened to the late Marquess–his death was caused by a carriage accident–but she knew her birth father was with the Marchioness after the death. 

Regardless, between her and her half-sister Clervie, the Marchioness deemed Peruere better fitted as the heir of the family. In Peruere's opinion, Clervie would have made an impressive matriarch. However, when she inquired Clervie about it, her sister vehemently rejected the notion, wanting to remain carefree as she always was. For as heedless as her older sister was, she would be the model of a noblewoman, the favorite debutante had she wanted to take on the aristocratic responsibilities. In any case, Marchioness Crucabena always had a noticeable distaste for the two of them and Peruere suspected it was because she had no sons and marrying once more would mean losing the inheritance of her late husband. 

Peruere soon learned why exactly she was chosen as the next heir. It was easier for her to pose as a male rather than Clervie in order to appease the Marchioness. Added with Peruere's bastard status, few people knew of her existence, or more so, her familial ties with the Marchioness. With the Marchioness’s ‘education’ Peruere, the bastard daughter with a commoner surname, was transformed into Arlecchino Snezhevna, a bastard son with the Snezhevna surname, and so inheritor of the Marquess title. Pereure was erased effectively in the span of six years. 

Because Arlecchino was a bastard son, that label would have made it difficult to impose herself among other noblemen, and most especially, marry another powerful family. In that sense, what she could not make up in legitimacy, she had to make up in other qualities as a noble. Her hours, from dawn to dusk, consisted of history, economy, and art lessons, etiquette and mannerisms classes, 

and learning various skills such as conversational, dancing, equestrian, fencing, and hunting. Obtaining any length of slumber came few and far, and when rest was finally permitted, her body often ached too much for her to drift.

Instead, she laid conscious at night, her head tilted towards the window, the stars winking back at her. Her thoughts returned to you, as they always have during her respites, and she would wonder again and again if you were looking at the same night sky as she was, reminiscing over memories of stargazing. She often raised her hands to her eyes, the only question lingering in her mind would be if you would recognize these hands if she met you again, the same hands that held you. Alone in her chambers, Arlecchino, no Peruere, promised that she would meet you again, and maybe, this time she would never have to leave your side again. 

She only hoped that she would be good enough for you. 

—

Your heart is thumping rapidly against your chest while your clammy and fidgety hands grasp onto the gloved hand of your dance partner, maintaining deep breaths and keeping your composure as best as possible. You match the steps of the bachelor gracefully and diligentfully, feeling many spectators’ gazes on your back. It’s both invigorating and exhausting to realize that you are the diamond of the season. Receiving this many dance requests is a good sign, yes, but it only means that you are creeping closer to having to choose a suitor.

And inevitably lose Peruere forever. 

You quickly snap out of your thoughts in order to further entertain your dance partner with small talk, and finally the dance ends. 

“Thank you, Earl Childe. It was a pleasure dancing with you. You make an excellent dancer,” you offer the young redhead a beaming expression. 

“You're quite one yourself. I quite enjoyed our time. Perhaps we could dance more privately at a later date?” The sauve bachelor replies back, matching your practiced smile with a cocky one. 

“Perhaps,” is all you say, and thankfully the bachelor walks away. 

You let out a sigh of relief, but it seems you thought too soon, as another set of footsteps approach you from behind. Turning around, you’re met with perhaps the most refined and handsome gentleman you've graced your eyes upon. Immediately, you feel your cheeks swell and you feel unnaturally timid. Sincere red-crossed eyes meet yours, and a faint, charming smile stretches on the lips of the nearing bachelor.

“May I have this dance, Lady [F/N]?” He offers his hand gracefully, and you take his. 

“I haven't introduced myself, pardon me. I am, Earl Arlecchino, Earl of Snezhevna,” he introduces himself with a knowing smile, or rather, she introduces herself as your face contort to that of shock at the mention of her family name. You halt as she initiates the dance, her grin growing as fondness spreads over her facial expression.

“Peruere?” You whisper as you reach out, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder, your other gloved hand in hers. Her body warmth bleeds through the contact, and you sense it flow through your entire body. 

“It's Arlecchino, for appearances. I trust you won't expose me?” Peruere says, her eyes scanning over your entire form in awe. “You're… I don't quite have enough words to describe you. You're utterly beautiful.” 

You flush at the compliment before you forcefully tear yourself away from the bubbling giddiness within you, nodding at her first question. Your face attempts to appear stern and angry, but your eyes sabotage that. “I missed you… dearly. Where have you gone? Why didn't you write to me? I kept waiting for you…” 

Peruere's face softens, morphing to one of regret and sympathy. “I haven't stopped thinking of you either. My mother demanded I suddenly take lessons on how to be a nobleman, and with that, I was no longer Peruere, but Arlecchino. During that time, I had to endure everything my mother gave me, and I hardly had time to sleep. I have tried to send you some, but I suspected that the Marchioness meticulously checked what was sent and received. I've kept a pile of letters that I wrote for you, so you would be able to read everything I had to say over the years.” 

You inhale slowly before nodding, understanding her words. “You kept plaguing my dreams, Arlecchino. You don't know how long I've wanted to see you. Please… never leave me again. I don't think I can bear being without you again.” 

It's Arlecchino's turn to be surprised. “You… Are you asking me what you think you're asking me?” She breathlessly inquires, her voice on the edge of exhilaration, and you give her a hopeful smile. 

You nod. “I… I always thought you were the one since we were little. I didn't want to spend my time with anyone else. So… can you be beside me again?” 

Peruere nearly melts at your request. “As long as you'll allow me another dance.” 

[thelovelylolly]

Hi. I have a request for a loki x female reader. I love his character so much. I would like it too be a short fluffy one.

Can you write a fic about loki and a reader who likes him but is afraid to tell him that, so she avoids him but he realizes that she likes him because he can read her like an open book. And it ending with them kissing for the first time.

Sorry if this sounds confusing. If you can't write this that is fine.

--sam w

Avoiding

Summary : you're a goddess on Asgard, and you've fallen in love with Loki. Warnings: fem! reader, r has long hair but texture and color isn't desc., some self doubt but it's very brief, let me know if i missed anything! Word count: 1.3k (not proofread) Notes: this is so cute! i did give them some more backstory so i hope you enjoy! (also dividers by @saradika-graphics !!)

You loved Loki.

It was plain and simple. You were a goddess on Asgard and had grown up with him while Frigga taught you how to harness your magic. You and Loki clicked instantly, sometimes getting into trouble together or spending quiet afternoons between lessons together. You helped him with his pranks against his brother, he helped you try new things with your magic.

You had a crush on him when you were both children, but you thought it was just a silly childhood crush.

Then, you grew up and it didn't go away.

If anything, your feelings grew stronger and deeper.

You didn't want to ruin the friendship you had with him and he was a prince. You held no title other than 'goddess' and you had heard about all the suitors his father had set up for him. Loki didn't want any of them and always said he'd rather spend his life with you or no one at all.

Surely, he didn't mean that he wanted to court and marry you, right?

He always went straight to you after meeting with suitors, which is where he found you one late afternoon. You were lounging around in the library, re-reading one of your favorite books, when he slipped through the large library doors. He closed them behind him and let out a sigh as he leaned against them.

You looked up from your book with a soft smile. "How'd it go?" You asked, even though you knew the answer.

"Terrible," Loki answered, walking over to you and sitting on the opposite end of the couch you were on. "I don't think my father understands that I'm not interested in these spoiled princes and princesses."

"Aww, you poor thing," you said teasingly, putting your book aside and scooting closer to him. "You have all these perfect options to choose from-"

"You know I don't want any of them," he quickly cut you off, smiling over at you. "But at least this one brought me a present."

"Oh, did they? What was it?"

Loki held his hand up and used his magic to make the gift appear. It was a delicate, gold crown that looked like a vine full of leafs.

"It's beautiful," you quietly said, leaning closer to get a better look.

"I was nice about it, but I knew it would look better on you than me," he replied, taking the crown between his hands and turning to face you. He gently placed it on top of your head, gently pulling a few pieces of your hair out to frame your face.

Your smile fell when you noticed how close the two of you were, your lips slightly parted as your heart raced. His soft smile made your insides melt and all you wanted to do lean forward and kiss him.

"I was right," he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear, "it does look better on you. You look like a queen."

Your gaze fell to his lips. All you had to do was say three little words and lean forward. But that could ruin everything.

Instead, you pulled away and stood up, clearing your throat awkwardly. You grabbed your book and turned towards him as you walked backwards to the doors. "I-I'm sorry, I have to go..." You quickly said before turning and leaving.

Loki watched the doors close behind you, leaving him alone in the library. His smile fell and he leaned against the back of the couch, letting out a sigh.

Something was up with you, and he was going to figure out what it was.

A few days had passed since what happened in the library and you had done your best to avoid Loki. You felt embarrassed and you didn't want to face him. You started to avoid the places the two of you usually frequented and found a nice beach area to escape to. It was hidden by different types of flora from the palace gardens.

However, you kept the crown he gave you. You only took it off to sleep or do your hair, which was always in a style that let you wear the crown. You had gotten compliments from others around the castle and when they asked where it had come from, you simply said it was a gift.

But it was more than a gift to you. It was a slight bit of hope that Loki requited your feelings.

Yet, you were too afraid to tell him and decided that avoiding him would help. Even with your peaceful beach and your favorite books, Loki still took up most, if not all, of your thoughts. Maybe he did know you had feelings for him because he knew you so well.

He knew you well enough to eventually find you on the beach. The sun was just starting to set and it caused the clear, blue waves to sparkle in the late afternoon light. The sun also shined off of the crown on your head, making you easy to spot for Loki.

When he called your name, your heart skipped a beat. You stood up from where you were sitting and reading before turning to him, watching him as he jogged over to you.

"There you are!" He said with a large smile. "I've been looking for you everywhere the past few days, why have you been avoiding me, dear?"

Dear. Gods, you loved him.

"I...I just needed some space, I guess," you replied softly, looking out at the waves next to you two.

"Space to think about your feelings for me?" He asked with a hint of teasing in his tone.

Your head whipped around and you looked at him with wide eyes. "W-what do you mean? What feelings-"

"Darling, we've been friends since we were children, I know you," he reached for your hands, taking them in his, "I figured out you had feelings for me only recently, so don't think I've been leading you on or anything. I've been trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you."

"You...what?" You were still surprised he found out, but now he admitted he loved you? Your mind was racing and so was your heart as you stepped closer to him. "You love me, too?"

"Of course I do, darling," he said, trailing his hands up your arms to hold your waist as he pulled you closer. "Why else do you think I've rejected all the suitors my father set up for me? Why do you think I gave you that crown?"

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours before saying, "why do you think I spend every second I can with you?"

You took a deep breath, letting out a relieved sigh. "I was scared I was going to ruin what we have," you whispered.

He reached one hand up and cupped your cheek, running his thumb across your skin gently. "You could never ruin it, darling."

You slowly started to lean closer, the gap between you and him closing. He met you half way and pressed his lips to yours.

You had imagined his kiss many times, but none of it compared to real life. He was soft and gently, but still held you tight and close. He knew where to place his hands, how to move his lips against yours, and when to pull away.

It wasn't a short kiss, nor was it long, but you immediately missed the feeling of his lips on yours. However, the look he gave you silently told you that more were to come.

"Would you allow me to court you, darling?" He asked softly, still holding you close to him.

"Of course, Loki," you answered, smiling up at him, "but does your father know?"

He laughed. "No, but I don't care if he approves or not. I want you, I choose you, and he'll have to be okay with that because I'm never going to change my mind."

[metalandmagi]

Hello....If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite romantic relationship's couples in books/ manga/manhwa/ anime/movies/tv series (can be canon or non-canon)? Why you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before....

Hope you don't mind if the same person ask a different questions. Thank you so much @metalandmagi .....

Funny you should ask, because I was just listening to a podcast episode about favorite fandom ships, and I had actually started making my own list that I was going to post anyway! And I don’t mind you asking, since I don't really have people to talk to about this stuff. I like looking at your blog and seeing other people’s answers too!

Here's my top ten! These are going to be kind of repetitive because I’ve already talked about these fandoms so much, but these are my favorite CANON SHIPS, meaning they’re actually together or at least have kissed or something. I have a million non canon ships.

10. Jem, Will, and Tessa from The Infernal Devices- I wanted to keep myself to one ship per fandom, but I couldn’t help it, I just love this OT3 so much. I don’t care what anyone says, they are a poly relationship, not a love triangle (and I maintain that if Jem wasn’t already dying, he and Will would have realized they loved each other romantically, and their parabatai bond would have fucked them over eventually). They all have an equal amount of love and respect for each other, and they balance each other so well. And I appreciate that none of them are relegated to being “the overly jealous partner who ruins everything for the other two.” We get time with each of them and love them all equally.

9. Patroclus and Achilles from The Song of Achilles- Call me a basic bitch, but these two are unparalleled in terms of doomed romances. I love friends to lovers, and the story is so widely spanning that it gives their relationship such gravitas.

8. Yona and Hak from Akatsuki no Yona- Still haven’t finished the manga, but these two are god tier for fantasy romances. I love that they completely lose their minds over each other whenever they are not within arm’s reach, and they’re another great example of childhood friends to lovers. Hak’s “teasing” attitude in the beginning of the series wasn’t my favorite, but it’s funny to look back on it later, knowing that he’s so in love with Yona and would murder the first person to disrespect her. 

7. Shigure and Akito from Fruits Basket- Because why would I choose one of the normal, healthy relationships when I could go for one of the most fucked up romances in shoujo? These two…I don’t even know where to start. They’re the definition of toxic for most of the series, but by the end, you’re really rooting for them to be together with the Sohma family curse broken. Shigure is desperate for the curse to be broken so he can prove to Akito that he loves her without them being tied together by fate. Akito feels like she needs the curse because otherwise everyone will leave her forever. Akito sleeps with Kureno. Shigure sleeps with her mom. They’re “gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss” meets “mansplain, manipulate, man-whore.”

6. Sasaki and Miyano from Sasaki to Miyano- What can I say? They’re just so freaking cute! I think they represent the romance a lot of people in fandom want, because they bond over manga and slowly come to learn more about each other. Sasaki never pressures Miyano to return his feelings, and I appreciate the patience he has in waiting for Miyano to give him an honest answer to his confession.

5. Jesper and Wylan from Six of Crows- Another basic answer, but these two are so entertaining whenever they’re together. I love that Jesper starts out teasing Wylan relentlessly about looking like a pampered rich kid (despite the fact that Wylan also lives on the streets), but Wylan deadass saves the group time and time again, so Jesper comes to respect him more. This is how you do teasing in a relationship: they get under each other’s skin but aren’t complete dicks to each other. And I appreciate that the Shadow and Bone show changes their dynamic slightly while keeping the chaotic duo the same at their core. 

4. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase from the various Percy Jackson series- The pinnacle of middle grade/YA romance. Nobody else is doing it like these two. What works about their relationship is that we truly believe their friendship as 12 year olds before they start to have feelings for each other. So many times, authors shove two characters together because they feel like they need a romance, but Percy/Annabeth progress so naturally. They tease each other, but they know they’re both capable individuals at the end of the day (and their wildly different brands of intelligence work so well), and as long as they’re together, they can get through anything.

3. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian from Heaven Official's Blessing- I’ve shipped these two for much less time than these other ships, but they have smashed their way to my top 3 ships of all time. How do you compete with a god who’s fallen from grace and his eternally devoted follower who would burn the world down to see them smile? How do you compete with Hua Cheng, who has stayed by Xie Lian’s side for hundreds of years out of pure devotion, but not in a creepy or weird stalkery way? I think the biggest thing this ship has going for it is its sincerity. Hua Cheng doesn’t stay with Xie Lian because he’s hoping Xie Lian will fall for him eventually. He doesn’t believe he’s even worthy of Xie Lian’s love. But he stays anyway, because that’s what unconditional love is like. You stay when the one you love is at their lowest and you can’t do anything to help. You stay when they’re fighting the heavenly emperor and kick ass alongside them. You hold an umbrella over their head when it's raining blood and carry them across the ground when it's littered with corpses.

2. Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood from The Mortal Instruments/Shadowhunters- These two have destroyed me over the years. I think the best thing about this ship is how they bring out the best in each other and have changed each other’s lives for the better. Magnus is so outgoing and free spirited, but with Alec, he wants to “settle down” (lol) and raise a family. Alec started as the personification of the frowny face emoji, stuck in the closet with a stick up his ass, but now he’s basically running the shadowhunter world. They’re the perfect example of “opposites attract” who have changed their world simply by being in love.

1. Damen and Laurent from Captive Prince- Speaking of couples who change their world simply by being in love…I don’t know if any other ship will top them for me. All the other enemies to lovers ships can get the fuck out. They’re nothing compared to Damen and Laurent. So many times, people will write “enemies to lovers” or “hate to love” relationships that are just two characters snipping at each other or bullying each other for no reason. Get that shit out of here. These two start with the purest, most honest loathing possible. They hurt each other in countless ways, but they come to learn each other slowly. They have every reason to be enemies, but they come through each layer of trauma with love for each other. They’re the kings (pun intended) of this trope.

Honorable mentions: Nick and Charlie from Heartstopper- They’re just so wholesome and sweet. The progression of their relationship from like to love is so realistic, and they’re basically the live action/book version of Sasaki and Miyano.

Ronan and Adam from The Raven Cycle- (haven’t read the last book in the Dreamer trilogy, but I hope nothing bad happens). Their differing brands of chaotic energy compliment each other perfectly, and as a reader, the slow realization that Ronan is in love with Adam was so eye opening and satisfying in a way few other series have been able to capture.

Just for fun, here are some of my “less canon” ships too.

* Inej and Kaz (they're practically canon, but they never explicitly say they're together or in love...but we all know they are)

*Kylo Ren and Rey (also practically canonical since they've at least kissed)

* America and England from Hetalia (if I really want to go back to my fandom shipping roots. I read nothing but fics for them for like 2 years in high school 😅)

*Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima 

*Hinata and Kageyama

*Carole and Tuesday

*Link and Sidon

[karebear923]

9 Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

Tagged by @befuddledcinnamonroll! Thank you so much for the tag!! 🥰 I really liked your post too!

I’m going to over explain everything 😅 sorry not sorry

3 Ships You Like:

1. Gao Shi De & Zhou Shu Yi are currently on my mind again! I remember We Best Love was one of the first BL shows I watched and the angst was intense! Plus the songs were really good too!

2. Lian & Kuea from Cutie Pie are one of my top pairs! The romance is on point! The Next Prince when??

3. Hira & Kiyoi from My Beautiful Man are so perfect together! Literally the definition of made for each other! Could never be with anyone else!

First Ship Ever:

I’ve always been into romance, I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t 😅 but my first huge obsession/OTP was Edward and Bella from Twilight 🙈

I know, I know, I’m sorry to disappoint. I acknowledge that they’re problematic, and I in no way endorse any crazy behavior irl. But just like Kristen Stewart I look back on that time fondly and no one can ruin it for me.

Last Song You Heard:

I have way too many songs on my Spotify, so if I’m not in the mood for anything in particular I’ll just listen to my music in alphabetical order so I know I’ve heard them all. Right now I’m finishing up the letter U.

Favorite Childhood Book:

I read a lot as a child, but I don’t think I had a favorite. I remember Junie B. Jones and Geronimo Stilton the most but those were series so I read multiple of those. Twilight doesn’t count cause I was a teen by then.

Currently Reading:

I still read a lot, but I don’t read books anymore. I read fanfics on AO3 cause it’s easier access, they’re shorter stories, and I already know the characters. Sometimes when I finish a show I love the characters so much that I don’t want to let them go yet! Right now I’m eagerly awaiting every new chapter of “a glitch in the universe” by VishCount 😊

Currently watching:

- Unknown (everyone keeps saying it’s gonna hurt but I’m in denial lol there’s a happy ending though, right???)

- 1000 Years Old (I wasn’t planning on watching this, I just clicked on it on a whim but I’m really enjoying it)

- 23.5° (GMMTV’s first GL! Gotta show support! And it’s cute so far)

- Pit Babe (first time watching but I know some plot points)

- Vice Versa (#vvrewatch2024)

- Beauty Newbie (I didn’t watch True Beauty but I’m watching this remake cause Win Metawin is in it and it’s good so far but also I’m 4 episodes behind 🙈 they post 2 a week! That’s a lot for me!)

Currently consuming:

Water lol. I had Pollo Campero for lunch about 3 hours ago tho 👍🏽

Currently craving:

My bed! 😩 I have to get ready for work now and I don’t want to!

No pressure tags

I don’t know 9 people on here like that 😅😬 @stormyoceans @buckystilinski @katemagic @poetry-protest-pornography @absolutebl

[lostonehero]

My first fic for this Fandom I know I just finished season 3 but I hope you guys like it

JonMartian romance obviously

Web avatar Martin

:)

A voice if you could call it that sounded as if metal was grinding on metal combined with nails on a chalkboard. It wasn't loud, more so quiet, barely a whisper for one listener. "Gifts for you."

Martin yawns as he puts his book down, leaving a bookmark to mark his page. He rubs his eyes. "I keep telling them to leave, but they never stop." He stretches. "I'm not starting a cult in your name."

The voice makes what seems to be a noise of agreement.

"Do you want to share?" Martin hums, looking to a dark corner that seems to grow darker, and he knew that meant yes. "Alright, hopefully they brought tea and biscuits, and maybe enough I can share with my coworkers."

The voice lingers in the air. "Jon?"

Martin stiffens as he closes the front door. "No, I haven't asked yet. Things are not exactly good since everything. I also have to keep things distance due to Peter."

"Martin." The voice hisses louder.

"Right, sorry, rambling." Martin knew that isn't what he meant, but it was a reflex from his childhood.

"Tea?" The voice sounded lighter as if it was trying to comfort Martin.

"Oh yes, I think they brought over some fruit ones. Oh, they brought your favorite peach. Uh want... no, I know you don't like sweets." Martin frowns. "Do you mind if I close the blinds? My back is getting itchy, and my eyes are watering."

"Remeber your shirt." The voice hums, and the tea Martin holds vanishing and the sound of his kettle turning on filled the soft quiet.

"Oh right, thanks. I don't want to ruin this one." Martin removes his shirt and folds it neatly on the back of a chair. Soft creaks of bones stretching as he seems to grow taller as spider legs erupt from his back. His eyes multiply as he has eight on his face. His mouth stretches, and a pair of mandible grows and drips a green liquid. His hands closed, and a scale like armor is on his hands and in random splotches of his body. He returns to his human feet and sighs. "Forgot my socks, but they are easy to remake. Oh, thank you." He quietly walks back over to the table where a hot cup of tea rests at his spot on the table.

"Molting, you need vacation." The voice seems less harsh as the sound of sipping is heard.

"I have to ask Mr. Lucas for that, but I don't know if he'll approve it. I don't know if he figured out what I am. Things have been uh tense at work." Martin hums opening a tin of biscuit.

The voice pauses as another phantom sip is heard. "The beholder thinks you are a human. Not that it matters. They should be happy to have you on their side."

Martin blushes a grey against his pale skin. "Thank you, mom. I know you're neutral in this, but I'm glad you're with me."

The voice chitters happily. "Tell the archivist your story."

Martin huffs. "Mom, we've been over this." He relaxes and taps his legs against the floor. An empty mug appears in front of Marvin. "Oh, do you want another?"

The voice is quiet. Marvin knows this means his father has gone back.

........

It's been a while since Martin knew normalcy. He was 8 when he met the being, the god, the spider. He was a lonely child he liked spiders, and his mom seemed to always be sick, and he didn't know his father. He was curious he followed a thread to a place that seemed like it shouldn't exist, but he was a curious thing.

"Wow!" Martin was full of awe and curiosity. "You're very pretty."

There was a creature a spider like being. They were just going to eat their newest prey caught in their web, but they've never heard anything like that. A human willingly touched them. Small for a human as well.

The first meeting went well in Martin's mind he tried to tell other kids about his new friend, but that didn't go well. Bullys picked him, outed him out of everyone.

Martin led food to his better mother figure, but that was never their relationship. They never wanted to say that he didn't want a follower. He grew close to this human and gave him a gift. The boy grew into his gift.

Martin grew up, and he had to leave schooling for his mother. He didn't mind that, but they knew he did. When he got the job he was so excited and they applauded him for it was a highly regarded place to them.

The incident with the living hive, they were worried. If their little favorite being was killed, and then they weren't going to be neutral after that. They used their minions to find him, not the worms were an issue, but they took care of it to get in. The archivist did destroy his minon, but they couldn't fault him. He wasn't his Martin.

Martin was alive he came back. They understood why the beholder was enamored with stories as they listened to Martin rattle on about his adventures. There deaths seemed to concern their Martin, but they were able to soothe him.

Jon he was the new archivist, the new eye. They didn't have strong feelings about that, but they knew Martin was what mortals called love or a crush they didn't exactly know the correct term. However, they knew Martin just needed a push, so they tried to convince him to tell his story and reveal himself. If it meant they would have to take a side, so be it. They didn't like to see Martin struggle with his emotions it made them think about how his mother drained him.

Things were on edge, and they had been trying to convince Martin to push him to reveal himself to protect the object of his love. The beholder doesn't exactly protect as well as they do, so extra help would be for the best. Martin still isn't convinced, but to be fair, they haven't explained. Maybe they are being selfish keeping their Martin safe like a mother protecting its young. They didn't know when they became so protective but they don't think they want it to change.

.....

"Don't look at me like that. I tried! I don't like lying, you know that." Martin frowns, scratching at his arm. There's banging on the front door. "Oh.... I don't want to entertain..."

The door opens, well it's kicked open by two young adults dressed in pure black and has spider webs all over their bodies.

Martin sighs. "I told you guys to stop breaking my door down."

The two young adults bow in respect.

A voice creaks out. "Fix my Martin's door."

Martin frowns. "Don't scare them. Come on, I'll make some tea."

The two young adults are frozen in fear until Martin taps them.

"Come on. I'll get some water boiling. You two must be new, but I don't want a cult following me around, neither does... er Spider. However you two have to fix my door. I don't exactly have sick days I can use at work to stay and fix it myself. Oh, right, as I tell the others, I can make you each a sweater with silk and spider like peach things like flavored things that are peach. However, I like chocolate or coconut or like little sweets. I don't expect anything though, just relax." He turns on his kettle.

"Avatar Web." One speaks up.

"My name is Martin, I don't go by my title." Martin smiles. "I just want you guys to do nice things like charity or public services. However, sweets and teas are also nice, and please tell the higher-ups in your group, er cult, to stop sending you guys over here like this. I didn't mean to frighten you guys."

The two stare up in awe.

"Thank you for your mercy." The two say as they head to fix the door.

Martin groans. "No, I'm not.... do you want tea too?"

The corners grow dark as a yes.

"Ok." Martin smiles and picks up the boiling kettle. "Oh shoot, almost forgot I need to get new towels molting is annoying. You promised to remind me."

"Forgot list." The voice echos like rusted metal.

"Ah, I guess you're right. I could just make new ones, but they are never rough enough. Oh, right, I should ask what kind of tea they like as well." Martin hums but stops his door is fixed, and the two are gone. "It's a shame they never stay. I always offer."

The voice sighs like grinding metal and shattering glass.

"Oh well, I think I still have some preserved peaches for you." Martin hums going through the cabinets.

.......

His body felt wrong. He knew he shouldn't be here, and he knew well enough whatever brought him back... no, that thing that wretched thing grabbed him from his peace. He knew how he died it was that explosion. Did they win? Probably not since he's been dragged back. Was he still him?

The sound of the door opening pulled the man out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes, and the bright sunlight burned his eyes. He didn't even look at himself till he heard a voice, a kind voice he knew all too well.

"I'm back." The cheery male voice seemed to echo in the quiet home. "The cult left some gifts but don't know how they know what today is, but I assume you have something to do with it. Granted, it's been decades now, so I really should be used to it."

He could hear the shuffling of feet until the voice he knew attached to the body came into view. He didn't know if he could talk, but he could move. He didn't have a chance to test his voice.

".... Tim?" The cheery voice seems to faulter.

A voice rough and screeching. "Happy birthday, Martin."

Martin groans and covers his face. "We talked about this. Tim, I'm so sorry." He sighs and smiles. "I uh I have a lot to explain. I should get your clothes first."

"Mar...tin?" Tim stopped his voice was the same he felt normal his body looked normal except for the tattoos the designs looked forgein and familiar at the same time.

Martin rushed out up the stairs.

"Martin, wait!" Tim got up his legs shaky and full of pins and needles like he sat on them too long. He stumbles forward but easily composes himself. He jumps back as Martin is suddenly back in front of him. "How?"

"It's a long story." Martin gives a nervous smile. "But uh, this will be complicated. It's been six months, give or take, Jon's been in a coma, but he's fine now, and uh, your funeral was nice."

"How? Are you one of them?" Tim cautiously takes the clothes they were big on his frame the belt helped.

"Well, I mean, I am an avatar. Uh, avatar of the spider or the web, but they prefer spider over web even though web is the term people cling to. I uh was 8 when I found them, and I guess we both got attached. It's not exactly important, but uh, my so-called god is neutral like really neutral so they don't enjoy a cult even if one exists and they prefer to enjoy peach things and uh watching over me I guess. I don't mean to be self-centered, but I guess they got attached when I was a child." Martin shifts and can hear the kettle being turned on. "Uh, well, you're not human anymore, uh The End owes the spider a lot never understood how or why, but uh, they have done this before for my birthday after my mother finally passed." He shakes his head. "Not important again, are you ok?"

"I was brought back from the dead, and you're not human. How do you think I feel?" Tim hugs his chest. "What now do I have to eat bugs and serve her?"

"N-no!" Martin motions to the table where three hot glasses of tea now sits. "Well, I mean you can eat live and do whatever you want. Fire will permanently destroy you if you want that. It is nice to see you again, but I won't force you to stay. I do have a spare room, and I maybe could get you some new papers if you want to leave that way."

Tim sits at the table, staring at the cup.

"It's not poisoned, but that wouldn't hurt you now anyway." Martin sits down as well. "I never wanted to tell any of you guys about this. Elias never looked into me beyond the surface level, so I don't actually know if he knows, but he's in jail now. I wanted to tell Jon since he's becoming an avatar of the eye, but he's been in a coma, and then things happened. He also doesn't like spiders. We have a new overseer since Elisa is in jail, but you probably don't care." He frowns. "I apologize. I'm rambling."

Tim shakes his head. "I don't know what I will do." He pauses, taking a sip of tea. The fruity drink was soothing his confused nerves. "Do you think I could go back to the archives? I don't think I could work any normal job again. It's not like I would be killed again."

"Fire would kill you." Martin pauses. "I can ask. I might as well reveal myself. Oh, the new director is Peter Lucas he's not so bad." He seems to wince at the last comment.

"Bring me in with you." Tim was smiling at Martin's surprise expression.

"W-what?" Martin could hear eerie laughter like nails on a chalkboard.

"I want to make a grand entrance on my accord. I would like to see a look of shock on Elias's face, but he's in jail. I will accept the shock on everyone else, however." Tim smiles. "Besides, think of it as payback from you being too happy."

Martin huffs.

.......

A loud scream, well Tim wouldn't call it a scream that wouldn't be a proper word for it, but he did yell in shock and slight fear. "What did... who... i"

The spider creature humanoid seemed to step back. He seemed hurt by his reaction. "Tim...." That voice.

Tim swallows. "Martin?"

"I uh forgot you were here..." Martin hugs his chest. "I uh well uh... I told you I wasn't exactly human anymore." The spider legs seem to suck back in slowly, and the inhuman features melted from his features till he looked normal. "I have blackout curtains for a reason. I uh sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

Tim rubs the back of his neck he had a feeling of guilt in his chest bloom from embassment. "Well, I should apologize. I didn't mean to shout. I should have expected something like this, is uh will Jon be different?"

Martin shrugs. "I don't know. I haven't been with a full avatar of the eye, and Spider won't tell me." He sighs. "I uh, can I go back to that form? I'm uh molting, and it gets itchy until the skin flakes off."

"It's your home, and I am a guest. Go ahead." Tim shrugs. "I do have a question."

"Oh?" Martin stretches back out and rubs his now eight eyes. "I don't like lying."

Tim snickers. "That hasn't changed. Uh, right, does it hurt?"

"At first, but I was really young when I was given this. I didn't really know what was normal in my body or around me. My mother didn't help she was sick and didn't like that she could see my father in my face. I knew she resented me even if I cared for her until she checked herself into a home. Spider was kind to me even if I didn't understand that they shouldn't exist or that I should be scared. I loved spiders I still do. The molting doesn't hurt it just itches, and when I do go to this for long periods, my eyes get watery, and I get very itchy. I can't really explain it since it happens once a month, and explaining that I'm not Trans is kind of more frustrating than anything." Martin looks away. "Sorry, I tend to ramble."

Tim shakes his head, seemingly feeling more comfortable in his situation. It's only been a week, and he hasn't reintroduced himself, and this spider was unnerving but means no harm. Martin hasn't changed, or he has, but he feels normal like he has always been him. "I also have to ask why you get things delivered to your home so often."

"I don't actually order things. Spider has a cult even if they don't want one. I know I don't want it, but it's better than dead things, and spiders likes peach anything." Martin chuckles. "Don't mind them they are kind. It's the newbies that are the trouble." He sighs, looking at the growing pile. "You can take whatever you like they always give too much. Only can donate so much."

Tim frowns. "You don't encourage it?"

Martin shakes his head. "They started when I was 9. I was too frightened to say anything. I wasn't a brave child, and my mother didn't exactly help or know." He clicks his tongue. "No, that's enough of that. I'm sure you need rest or more time. I'll be in the bath helps with the molt."

Tim nods, realizing Martin always spoke more than he needed as if he was testing the person he was talking to. He didn't understand why, but he wanted to comfort him.

......

"Do they know?" Tim asks one day the question eating at his mind as he tries to grow more confident to send a letter to his parents.

Martin sighs. "The web is made for secrets unlike the beholder they have connections everywhere hidden and tucked away. Nobody notices the small spider in the corner." A mask seems to lift on his face. "Elias never figured it out he clung to my thoughts about my mother and underestimated me. Peter also doesn't realize he is trying to make me like him, but you can not change an avatar to another god. Like Jon, I do have other abilities that aren't just physical. Spider calls them commands, I don't use them. You've noticed how I have never told others what to do for the most part. Jon still hasn't entirely accepted his status yet, which is good for me because he doesn't know."

Tim swallows and looks away. "Are you keeping me here?"

The mask back on Martin looked offended and panicked. "No, never! I like you as a roommate. You're much more talkative than Spider, but I just thought you wanted to do this on your own time." He sighs.

Tim snickers. "I'm just fucking with you." He hums. "I'll come back on my own time, as you said. You're still pretending with Peter, so I think I'll rejoin after that. Or I will come back when I think it's the funniest."

Martin huffs. "Tim, be serious."

"I'm dead serious." Tim smirks

Martin groans. "I'm leaving."

......

"Martin!" It Jon, the smaller man, managed to corner him, it seems.

Martin looks down at the smaller man. "J-Jon I uh I told you not to find me." He swears he could hear his mom laugh in his head and see spiderwebs attached to himself to Jon. He knew she was getting annoyed with his slow behavior and complaints about Peter. However, the ability to affect the eye well their avatar to this extant, did she make a deal with the beholder?

"Martin, what..." Jon stops himself. Martin, of course, knew why.

"I'm Peter's assistant. I can't talk tight now." Martin stops he glances over to the corner. A spider sits in a fresh web in the shape of an eye. That confirms his suspicions, the Web and the Beholder have formed a bond or an alliance. He isn't surprised the Web is secrets and the Beholder wants all the knowledge like the hidden stuff. He didn't exactly know what it meant for the two of them. "I uh well tea!" He stutters out. "Tomorrow?"

Jon looks back surprised. "Tea... of course, yes, tomorrow."

"After work, Cafe by my home." Martin says too quickly as he rushes out.

.......

"Martin." There is static in the air as Peter comes up from behind.

Martin can feel his body move without his control. Shifting and contorting as he towers over Peter. He honestly never liked this form it's too big, and he feels bad about towering over everyone, but the best he can describe it as a spider centaur. He still has the extra eyes clawed hands and webs that flow like a cape behind him he tries his best to use as a shirt when he is like this. The extra arms aren't bad, persay he just thinks it's odd. He turns and faces Peter. "I think our game is over." His voice was not his own.

Peter steps back, startled and surprised. "You're the web?"

"We never liked the name. It's always a bit on the nose. Isolation, the money never liked your kind, but we mean no harm to you, unlike you to us." Not Martin hums. "I would tell you to stop, but unlike you, we like to keep to our shadows listening and collecting. We never needed anything like yours. We overindulge already in this world the way it is. However, I will keep this short. We've come to an understanding with the Beholder." They laugh like they knew a joke nobody else knew. "Leave our Martin alone they aren't your pawn."

Peter nods and vanishes. The Web and the Beholder formed an alliance he needed to figure this out. Did Elias even know that would happen?

.....

Martin groans and rubs his legs. The pins and needles are always a thing every time he fully transforms. He was tapping against the table in his home and nearly jumps when he hears someone behind him.

"Martin, we've been living together for three months at this point. Haven't you gotten used to the dead lingering." Tim snickers at his own joke.

Martin sighs. "Sorry, Tim. I did some er avatar things today, and uh, I think I asked Jon on a date."

"Did you kill someone?" Tim's voice now lacks the humor.

"No, Spider doesn't enjoy death. It doesn't get anything out of it unless it's a secret or other stuff. We aren't the end." Martin sighs. "They didn't like me working with Peter he's one of the lonely and well they stepped in. I'm sure Peter already told Elias."

"Ok, that makes me less concerned." Tim has his smirk back. "So a date with Jon? Fucking finally."

Martin huffs. "Oh shut it. I panicked, and I don't know it just happened." He frowns. "I should probably ask if Jon's ok with that. If he's ok in general."

"Alright." Tim pauses. "Could I ask something about this Web?"

"If you want, again, I don't like lying." Martin rubs the back of his neck.

"Do they get along with... uh, why the cult?" Tim switches his question quickly, and Martin knows, but he doesn't understand why.

"We don't actually need the cult, but they told me it always happens. The web has weved throughout the world. Secrets are easy to consume when you are everywhere and nobody notices. There's other stuff, but again, I really don't like commanding others." Martin sighs.

"Show me." Tim crossed his arms. "Show me what you can do. What do you even mean by commands?"

"I can show you my spider powers." Martin tries his best to derail Tim, but he knows it doesn't land. "Ok, fine. Tim, go to the kitchen and get me a jar of jam." He watches Tim's eyes glaze over as he heads to the kitchen and returns with a jar of jam.

"I..." Tim swallows. "I see."

Martin frowns. "Sorry. I don't like doing it when it isn't needed. I try not to do it at all."

"I get it." Tim pulls out a chair next to Martin. "So this date."

Martin gives a heavy sigh. "It's just tea. I mean, actually, do you mind if I tell you something regarding the beings?"

"I mean, I do plan on going back to the archives, so I might as well know." Tim raised his brow. "Does it have to do with the eyes in the webs around your home?"

"Eh?" Martin looks around at the cobwebs. "Y-yeah uh the beholder the one Jon is becoming an avatar for... I should check on him. I don't think he's ready for the body changes. The wait date we have a date. Uh, right off track. The Beholder has agreed to the Web, and they seemed to have an alliance, but I don't think that's the right term. Uh, maybe partnership that's closer, but I don't know. A pact of protection? I don't know, but we have come out of hiding. I don't know what that means for the future, but uh, yeah."

"So they want you to get freaky with Jon?" Tim wiggles his brows.

Martin groans. "No! I mean, I don't know. I hope not. I don't want our relationship built on er false pretenses."

"I can understand that, but would you consider soulmates like that?" Tim hums.

"I... I don't know." Martin has a puzzled look on his face.

.......

Georgie paused, staring at her ex blankly. "If you wanted to see the admiral, you could ask not just show up with... why is Melanie here?"

"The man has a date." Melanie chuckles. "The man has a date, and he panicked because he has no social skills."

A laugh rushed out of Georgie's mouth as she ushered the two inside. "So you came here."

"I know..." Jon covers his face. "I just I don't know I look awful and I know you're good at makeup and I don't want to frighten him off. I'm already not exactly entirely human anymore."

"Don't sell yourself short, Jon. Our time wasn't the worst." Georgie smiles, brushing his long hair back and frowns. "Did you develop a new allergy because of this watcher?"

"I don't think... I don't think so. Why?" Jon covers his mouth with an apologetic gaze.

"You have blisters on your neck and shoulders." Georgie walks around and pulls down his sweater. "There on your back, too."

"They don't look like an allergy. It kind of reminds me of burns but also like a bug bite." Melanie pauses. "Does it hurt?"

"No?" Jon frowns. "I mean, maybe, but I just thought it was from lack of sleep, I think. I haven't been eating great either, so I guess it's normal to ache and have pain."

"Ok, you need major help." Georgie sighs. "Makeup will help, but you seriously need a vacation."

"I don't know if that's possible." Jon jumps when Melanie grabs his shoulders.

"Ew, they feel gross. But I'm sure with enough concealer you can hide anything." Melanie wasn't confident, but she wanted to help him.

......

Martin raised his brow, staring at Tim. He got off early since Peter told him to. He knows they ruined whatever the lonely was planning to use him for. "Why are you here?"

"Undead support." Tim hums. "Also, I work here part time. Your patron helped me get paperwork, and I got bored of sitting around."

"Oh right... I didn't think I was keeping you." Martin pauses. "I uh sorry."

"Martin, you weren't, and neither was that. I told you I got bored and I don't exactly think going back suddenly would be good." Tim shrugs. "What are you looking to get?"

"I think I'll wait for Jon." Martin smiles softly. "Thank you, Tim."

"Don't, you've done for me then I could ever repay." Tim hums. "I'll be behind the counter."

Martin nods and smiles.

......

Jon walks in, pulling up his turtleneck. Even with the extra rest, he felt awful. The so-called blisters have started to hurt and felt like pressure was building, and he wanted to take a knife to his skin. He also had a new hunger. He knows he doesn't eat enough, but he never felt hunger like this he's craving meat. He's craving more statements. He wanted to ignore it he wanted to pretend it didn't bother him. He knew it had to do with the thing that owned him now. He knows it's turning him into a monster. He couldn't stop it, and it scared him. Makeup barely covered anything he probably looked awful.

"Oh Jon!" Martin waves from his seat.

Jon is pulled from his thoughts like a life preserver was thrown to him. "Martin, it's nice to see you."

"Come sit, they do lovely fruit teas here if you want to try one. You uh you look nice. I like your hair tied up." Martin rubs the back of his neck as a red blush goes across his features seemingly to highlight his freckles.

Jon shares his blush, and even if he felt awful, Martin was a glimmer of the safety of something happy. He pulls a chair out across from Martin and smiles. "I uh thank you for asking me on a date. I missed you."

Martin's smiles fade as he stares at Jon. He knows what is happening, and he knows Gertrude never did get this far in her own transformation even if she was considered by Elias as better suited. "Jon, are you alright?" He knew he would lie.

"I'm fine Martin, just a long day in the office." Jon smiles again, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

Martin remembers that when it happened to him, it took years his bones twisting and breaking to reform. Growing new organs was the worst. It started only a month after he met them bonded to them. He was the perfect fit, he guessed. The previous avatar tried to kill him as they were torn away from their purpose. They didn't like that. He frowns. "Jon, please don't..." He bites his tongue. "Jon, you have to sleep now."

Jon felt something, something pulled at his mind as if it flicked a switch. He couldn't fight it as the world went black.

......

"Why did you think this was a good idea?" A voice Jon knew was impossible to hear unless he was finally dead.

"He's changing, and we- I know he isn't taking care of himself enough to survive it. He's so thin, and I don't think uh." The voice Jon knew was Martin was speaking. "I covered him. They need to form, and it's a bit of a sensory overload having them all open at the same time."

"I was going to ask how you knew, but then again, that's a dead brained question."

"Tim, please." Martin sighs.

"....Tim?" Jon croaked out.

"Didn't you uh do your command thing?" Tim paused.

"Tim, it doesn't last forever it lasts as long as he needs to be asleep." Martin takes a breath. "Jon, don't take off the towels on your face."

Jon freezes his arms now stuck at his side. "Martin, what.... are you still Martin?"

"Of course I am." Martin groans. "I accidently commanded you. I'm sorry. I uh do the thing I can feed you, er you don't really understand that yet uhhhhh ask me for my statement." He winced another command.

"Martin, tell me what happened. What are you?" Jon spoke before he knew what he was saying what he was doing.

......

"I was 8, my father just left at the news of my mother getting sick. I, of course, didn't know at the time I don't really recall him either. I was a small kid who always looked Ober or bullied when noticed. My mother, well, she never helped or cared truly. So nobody noticed when I wandered off to somewhere that shouldn't exist."

"It was a room, I think, to a home covered in webs. A woman welcomed me as if I were a sacrificial lamb. I was elated. I always loved spiders, and they were everywhere, and I know I made it known. She listened to me she listened to me a kid who just loved spiders, and for some reason, she let me go. I know why now, the Web, as you know, it took a liking to me. They made me an avatar. Like you're becoming. It was so painful, but I was young, and I didn't know any different. Nobody helped me. My mother didn't care, and the Web was like a new better mother who listened and cared they even helped feed me when mom tried to hurt me by not feeding me. I don't know why they care for me or why it's me, but it is. I was never scared, and that's probably why they were curious and eventually grew attached."

"Now I actually have three forms: human, obviously, the spider legs and eyes, and fully. I'm kind of like a spider centaur with extra eyes and arms. You'll have another form, too, but you're in that weird teenage phase kind of where your body is just getting used to change. I'll be here to help. The Beholder and the Web have formed a kin bond thing I don't know, but I'm here for you and again sorry about the commands. It's like how you ask questions, kind of, I guess."

......

Jon swallows. He feels full. He doesn't understand why he didn't eat, and he still feels hungry for actual food, but his mind feels calmer. "You're not human."

"Not anymore." Martin sighs. "Haven't been for a long time, but I'm still me."

Jon pauses. "Will I still be me?"

"You are you." Martin hums. "Extra bits and powers don't really mean much unless you reject it. That would kill you outright. However you did accept it, you came out of the coma. Can't stop it now." He pauses. "I uh can answer more questions, but I should make you something filling first, and no, I don't eat bugs. I'm actually allergic to crickets kind of weird considering. Anyway, you need statements old or new to sustain yourself and then actual food for your body, especially now with the changing. Don't worry. Your voice won't crack."

Jon actually smiles. He felt more at ease. Martin seemed to do that to him. "Can request something warm?"

"I will happily make that." Martin smiles, and somehow Jon knew he was smiling.

"Can I say something now?" Tim interrupts.

"You're dead." Jon swallows as a fear claws at him.

"Dead tired from work." Tim chuckles. "No, actually, this web patron pulls some web strings and brought me back. All joking aside, it's been three months since I came back. I'm free to do whatever I please with this second chance, but I'm aimless. I'm glad we won, and I'm glad I'm back, but I don't exactly have a plan yet."

"He keeps claiming he'll come back to the archive when it's the funniest." Martin sighs, and Jon can hear him walk off.

"And I will." Tim huffs.

Jon felt his fear drain, with a new one taking its place. How powerful is the Web? "...right."

"Glad to see you're still a downer, former boss man." Tim sighs. "Seriously, get some rest. You look like shit."

"I can't see that." Jon mumbles.

......

There was a soft knock followed by a rougher one. Martin got up and headed over. "Oh, hello, Daisy, Batista, and Melanie. Well, I guess you're coming in. Welcome."

"What did you do?" Batista scowls and spots Jon, who was nursing a cup of tea and had a blanket on.

"I didn't do anything." Martin frowns.

Jon sighs. "He's helping me with some changes."

Daisy grimaced. "You look awful."

Melanie frowns. "The blisters aren't blisters are they."

"I suppose not." Jon huffs, putting his cup aside.

"It's gross if you ask me." Tim sips his drink from his mug.

The three stare st the walking deadman.

Martin pinches his brow. "I can explain."

.......

The tension in the room is thick. Jon stared into his cup of tea as if it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

Martin clears his throat. "I mean, that's about it, I guess. I would rather not speak of my childhood before the Web."

Melanie speaks up first. "So Tim's back because your god wanted to wish you happy birthday?"

"I mean, they did it before with my mother." Martin looks away. "The End owes them many favors. Never asked why, nor do I want to know why."

"To be fair, Martin did give me a way out he explained how I would be gone for good with fire. I don't want to, but the choice is there." Tim shrugs. "Anyway, I have a shift at the cafe, and I really don't want to deal with any more well this."

Now, there were five left in the apartment. Martin hugged his chest. "Look, I'm just trying to stop Jon from dying through this. If he does, then another will take his place."

"What about the one before you?" Baisa glared at him.

"The Web took care of her." Martin frowns. "I really would not like to discuss what that did and what I had to do."

Melanie sighs. "Look, are you still that Martin? Are you still you?"

"I mean, I think I am." Martin shrugs. "I've been like this for so long I don't know different."

"Right." Daisy sighs. "Ok, I believe you, but you better hold your promise to keep that man alive."

Martin nods. "Of course I will."

Jon swallows. "Do I get a say?"

A glare answers that question.

[sleepy-vix]

Hi, Vix.....Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

oooh this is such a cool ask hmmm lets see. i dont know how to rank it but i'll try my best

1. Angel Devil (chainsaw man- animanga). he's just so me. also, his hair is so cool, his power is so interesting, and he's depressed and angsty (i mean, what more can i say?).

2. Chen Kitay (the poppy war trilogy- books). he's so cool i want to be his friend so bad. he's everything i want in a character- CRAZY smart, devoted, realistic, and familiar (if that makes sense?)

3. Tori Spring (solitaire/heartstopper/osemanverse- book, webcomic, tv series). i feel bad putting her so low but i like angel and kitay more 😭. anyways she's SO ME. everything she says is so relatable. also she's everything i like in a character- she's the oldest sister, she pops up mysteriously here and there, and she's got the same mental issues as i do. #socoquetteamirightorwhat.

4. Wanderer (genshin impact- video game). his lore is so intricate and interesting and cool. i hate hsi fanbase but i don't let that ruin my enjoyment of his character.

5. Jo March (little women- book and movie). i talk about her too much T-T euihsfdhuhewuh i will refrain this one time. the short story is that i love everything she says.

6. Ray (the promised neverland- animanga). he was my childhood. i had a huge hyperfixation on the promised neverland and ray was my favourite (obviously) because he was smart, mysterious and angsty T-T also he has mother issues (though that's not relevant to why i like him,,,, or is it??)

7. Yuki Yoshikawa (horimiya- animanga). I'm going to be so honest right now, i watched horimiya just for yuki and toru. i don't really care about hori and miyamura T-T like they're cute but if yukitoru wasn't in the show i would've dropped it. i even read the manga to see more yuki and toru. also yuki is so real... i'm not saying that she's me but maybe she is...

8. Dazai Osamu (bungou stray dogs- animanga). he's my comfort, my muse, my imaginary friend, you know? i feel like he deserves to be on this list.

9. Chuuya Nakahara (same as above). "scary? my god, you're divine" - lana del rey. i think ms del rey sums it up perfectly.

10. Henry Winter (the secret history- book). let's be so real. one does not read the secret history and somehow avoid falling in love with henry winter (i say falling in love in a very arospec way btw- i don't have a crush on him and i imagine him as ugly tbh but i think his mind is so brilliant and it would be cool to have conversations with him or be the subject of his attention ???? idfk.)

tysm for the ask :))) i rambled alot and i probably wrote more than you cared to know sorry about this oops lol T-T hope to see you around ! :D

[bisamwilson]

hey sweetheart, how are you? hope you’re doing well and having a wonderful day 🩷💖

for the ask game: 💫 💞 💥 ☯️ 🧿

hello love!!! hope you are too!!! <3

(from this list)

💫: what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

oh i ADORE when people leave those long comments that mention/react to specific parts of the fic/chapter that they loved/want to speculate on/etc. like if i get a comment notification email and i see like a block of text or multiple paragraphs it keeps me going for WEEKS afterwards!!! obviously all (positive) comments are appreciated, but those are always my very favorite

💞: what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

the characters! i've talked with a-chan about this a bunch recently, actually, especially since i write so many aus, and my general metric for how successful and AU is is if you recognize the characters even though they're in completely different situations. like that's the metric for me if i've written a successful fic, if the characters are believably themselves no matter what situation i've written them in, canon or otherwise (which leads me to another favorite au-specific comment, which is when someone compliments me on characterization or on how i work specific plot points into a ficverse separate from canon!)

there are certain fics however that i wanted to have Certain Vibes™, so in those cases the figurative language was also very important to me (the angel/demon au comes to mind here). and given i was kind of forcibly made editor in chief of my high school paper when i was still a Young Mak, i'm ngl and say grammar isn't also very important to me lmao. i'm always in awe of other people's fics with amazing worldbuilding, but i think that matters to me the least. it's why i love the LOTR movies but the books weren't my favorite. couldn't handle that much worldbuilding (sorry, tolkien)

💥: find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

my least kudos'd fic is it's raining on prom night, which is unsurprising, given it's a samriley prequel to a sambucky au.

i do really love this fic tho! getting to write high school aged sam in sweet puppy love with his childhood best friend was so much fun, and i loved getting to dig deeper into who sam was before we got into the actual au proper. i also really loved the way i wrote this exchange, specifically bc i think i did a pretty good job of establishing the kind of banter, relationship, and history they have despite it being such a short fic that takes place way into their knowing each other (and even dating each other)

“A gift is a nice way of putting it,” Riley replies, laughing. “That flower was half-dead and I’d given it to you specifically because my mama was gonna kill me if I ruined another one of her bouquets and you were the nearest person to me. Also we were five, but if you want to consider that the start of my long game to get you to date me, I’ll accept the status of romantic mastermind.” Sam laughs, grabbing the Swiss army knife out of his pocket that Peggy would kill him for having at a diplomatic event and cutting down a bloom to hand to Riley. “You were some kind of mastermind, all right. Your mama would’ve yelled at anybody else, but I was the new kid and the pastor’s son, so I got a free pass that day. Everybody went home happy, and I accidentally landed myself a troublemaker best friend.” Riley makes sure the partial stem is free of thorns and tucks the rose behind Sam’s ear. “Everybody went home happy except my mama, you mean.” “Well, that’s a given. Her poor roses.”

☯️: how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

this is,,, a complicated question. on the one hand, i've developed some really great fandom friendships i never would have otherwise if i hadn't started writing (i've always been a lurker before now, and while i had some mutuals i was fond of, they were never people i'd seek out for conversation, much less go visit/have them come visit me!) on the other hand, there are some really toxic people in fandom, and publishing your own work opens you up to a lot of vulnerability when those people don't play so nicely, especially when you imbue a lot of yourself into your work through the characters, or your time, or even in some cases your experiences. it also can lead to the trap i found myself falling into last year, which is that since so many of my fandom friends came bc i was writing, i feared i'd lose them all when i stopped writing. obviously this hasn't happened even as my output has slowed dramatically (early 2022 mak would probably be horrified to know i haven't published anything in like five months), but that was a legitimate worry i had, and it was. very bad on my mental health. so it's all about striking that balance of finding friends and community but doing so in a way that like,,, doesn't leave you having anxiety attacks and major bouts of horrible self esteem over your own fics and writing ability at the end of it all

🧿: what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

this goes back a lot to my previous answer which is just like. setting those own clear boundaries in my head that this is a hobby that i enjoy doing for myself and also bc i have wonderfully supportive friends, and like at this point i've published enough fics that i'm comfortable telling people off if they're shitty on them, tho thankfully there haven't been many instances (i am, however, forever haunted by an earlier fic i wrote where someone commented something along the lines of "i was kinda hoping [x thing that i didn't write] would happen but of course what you did was good too" and i wasn't confident enough to be like "hey what the fuck. this was kinda rude, friend. go write your own fic????")

basically if the response is negative, then either i learn if there's something to be learned, or if not, i tell them to go eat shit bc i know my value (@ peggy carter thank u for this wonderful piece of wisdom that has gotten me through many years of self doubt), or if the response is just lacking, then i brush it off bc i know that my fics 1) make me happy and 2) make a lot of my friends happy too. even if the fic doesn't do well, if i've just got one person gushing about how much they love it, well, that's someone else in this world i've made happy by doing something i enjoy, and that's enough :)

[wondereads]

Weekly Reading Update: Catch Up Edition! (03/11/24--03/25/24)

Reviews and thoughts under the cut

03/11/24

We Ate the Dark by Mallory Pearson (6/10)

This was a book club pick, and one of our members actually knows the author! This book is drowning in figurative language. It could have been cut down significantly. I'm not one to hate on flowery language, but the vagueness and metaphors that overtook this writing often obscured what was actually happening. It crafted a very good, eerie atmosphere, but there was a lot of confusion for me. I also would've appreciated some clarification on the worldbuilding concerning the magic and who's aware of it and the relationships of the main cast; keeping track of who was kissing who was a struggle. On the positive side, there was a lot of good suspense, and I got confirmation that there will be a sequel, which makes me feel much better about the ending.

A Bargain with the Fae King by Megan Van Dyke (3/10)

The main character of this novel was so absolutely insufferable. Her entire character revolves around constantly beating herself up and blaming herself for everything...and then proceeding to never change anything and do things people actively warn her not to do. It's a bit unfortunate because there was some good romantic chemistry, but every time she and the love interest did anything, it was ruined by her inner monologue harping on about the same things over and over. Despite that, I still might have given this a 5 or so, but the love interest absolutely ruined it. He did something absolutely atrocious, the red flag of all red flags, and the main character forgives him almost instantly. Girl, run!

Bloodmarked by Tracy Deonn (9/10)

This was a great continuation to the Legendborn Cycle, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite young adult series. There were some issues with the pacing, specifically with random worldbuilding elements coming out of nowhere at oddly convenient times, but other than that I really have no complaints. There's a lot of amazing character work, especially considering the relationships between Bree, Nick, and Sel, and the ending was completely insane. I love that there continues to be a huge focus on the racism in the Order and that there's much more explained about the non-Order magical world.

Mated to the Monster by Sarah Spade (4/10)

This was a random choice since I just wanted a mindless paranormal romance, but it wasn't at all satisfying. I'm sorry, but if you're building up the whole book, a whole adult paranormal romance book to the main couple having sex, something that has both huge implications for their relationship and the magic surrounding it...it better fucking not be fade to black. I know it's such a small thing to get pissed at a book about, but it is such a huge part of the story, something that was supposed to be basically the climax (hah). I have absolutely no issue with fade-to-black, but maybe don't make that choice when your whole story revolves around these character eventually having sex.

03/18/24

Glint by Raven Kennedy (7/10)

It's been a while since I read Gild, but I did remember most of what happens because that book is practically a prologue. This book was pretty slow; there's a lot of worldbuilding, character relationship building, and some pretty big reveals around the main character, but there's a lot of downtime in this book. I was overall expecting a little bit more, but it was still an enjoyable read, and I'll probably continue the series.

The Dragonet Prophecy by Tui T. Sutherland (8/10)

This is a reread from my childhood, and it was super fun to experience again. I was struck by how horrendously violent this middle grade novel is; what do you mean the children are trapped in a gladiator ring and forced to commit murder in order to survive? I think Clay is a great perspective to start from as both a more genial, everyman kind of character and as the oldest of the dragonets and someone who is implied to be their glue and rock. Peril is a truly insane character concept, but she is so interesting; I'm excited to get to her book, which I never got to read when I was younger. There's so much good worldbuilding for this age group, and I feel like most of my gripes lie in how convenient certain things are and how some characters' behavior is sort of excused.

Rising Storm by Erin Hunter (7/10)

Another reread, Rising Storm sort of reads like the space between major events. While this book culminates in the fire, which is so important and shocking, there's not really a lot of build-up, just a few lines about the forest going through a drought. Instead, there's a lot of focus on ShadowClan, Bluestar, and the looming threat of Tigerclaw, which is all stuff that truly comes into play in the fifth book. One of my favorite parts of this book is the relationship between Fireheart and Sandstorm, which is just so cute. Also, one of my favorite characters of the whole series is Cloudpaw, but I forgot how annoying he was in the early books (I say this with love).

Heaven Official's Blessing Vol. 4 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (9/10)

The horror that I was subjected to in this volume. As usual, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are adorable and I'm obsessed with them, but this volume focuses a lot on the side characters, particularly Shi Qingxuan. There's a lot of really emotional stuff in this volume, getting into the pain that's always associated with this series. It's easy to see both sides, and I'm interested to see how the situation will resolve since it has a bit of an open ending in this installment. I know this was not written for volumes and instead chapter by chapter in one huge story, but there is a weird disjointedness to the latter third of the book, suddenly shifting focus from what had been going on almost the entire novel up to that point.

03/25/24

Trickster's Choice by Tamora Pierce (8/10)

This one is technically a reread, but this is one of the Tamora Pierce series I did not finished, having been a middle schooler who did not finish Trickster's Queen before it was due back at the library. This series is a bit tricky (get it?) when it comes to the social message since it deals very directly with settler colonialism and racism, compared to Pierce's other Tortall books which tend to focus more on feminism. I'm not going to make judgments until I finish the duology, but for now it seems pretty good for a novel from 2003. Concerning the actual story and characters, Aly is a great diversion from Pierce's usual serious, extremely determined protagonists as a more playful, casual character. I'm a huge fan of Nawat and Dove, who are my personal favorite side characters. The politics of the Copper Isles are incredibly interesting, especially since social lives play into it, and there's going to be a lot more in the next book.

Four Plays: Medea, Hippolytus, Heracles, Bacchae by Euripides (5/10)

This is an average rating over all the plays. For example, I loved Medea, but I did not enjoy Hippolytus and Bacchae was okay. There are some surprisingly funny moments in these plays for tragedies, but they don't really mesh well with a modern perspective. Very useful in terms of history and culture, but not exactly engaging and enjoyable.

Island of Shipwrecks by Lisa McMann (7/10)

I'm close to the end of this series, and I'm kind of glad. While this book does break the pattern that had been set so far, I think I'm starting to get a little bored. The characters have been stuck in a rut recently; while the worldbuilding and plot expand every book, there's very little development in the characters. I'm kind of getting sick of Alex continuing to prioritize Aaron, who killed his mentor and became a dictator. There was such an interesting thing going on with the men on the shipwreck island, especially since they are practically confirmed to be from Japan, from the real world, but most of their interaction was with Henry, not Alex or any of the other main characters.

[atitarucore]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

ironically, this is my first ever ask, haha! but, narrowing down all the characters i love is gonna be pretty difficult, so i’ll try to make it the first characters that come to mind, i suppose.

in no particular order, here are the characters i love dearly! for the sake of not being bias toward one series, i tried to only pick one character from each franchise. i also tried to keep it as spoiler-free as i possibly can!

[continue below cut]

1. HARUHI FUJIOKA (ouran high school host club)

when i first watched ohshc and haruhi said, "it's more important for a person to be recognized for who they are rather than what sex they are," i took that and RAN with it.

i think the reason i love haruhi so much is because of our similarities—from personality, to zodiac sign, and even down to favorite food(s) and subject(s). maybe i'm just projecting though, LOL.

2. UKYO SAIONJI (dr. stone)

why is this man so cute.

in all seriousness, i think i love ukyo so much because of his personality. i've always had a soft spot for pacifistic and gentle characters, and truly, he is the ultimate gentleman! such a sweetheart :( i wish to hold him in my arms

3. HIYORI SUZUMI (honeyworks)

my GIRL!! THE GIRLBOSS!!

i'll essentially repeat what i've said before in a previous post—similar to haruhi, i hold hiyori dear to my heart because of her resemblance to me. i admire her hardworking, optimistic, yet still clumsy demeanor. she just like me, fr fr! i think she's just an awesome character and deserves the world.

4. ISHIGAMI YU (kaguya-sama: love is war)

you know, for someone who loves kaguya-sama, i feel like i don't talk about him that much. ishigami yuu is my favorite character in the series primarily for his outstanding character development! i just... love how akasaka writes him, and i simply adore his relationships with everyone in the student council.

did i cry during EVERY season of kaguya sama? yes, yes i did. did i cry during his backstory moment? absolutely.

5. ANGELA (lobotomy corporation/library of ruina)

woah! didn't expect this one on here, did you?

it's sort of hard picking my favorite character from project moon games. even after thinking about it long and hard, i don't even know if angela is my favorite. even so, there's no denying that she's definitely scored a position as a character i love—just like ishigami, her character development really struck a chord in me!

i could go on and on about lobotomy corporation/library of ruina, so perhaps i'll cut it short there...

6. REIGEN ARATAKA (mob psycho 100)

he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone (affectionate)

doesn't really qualify for any of the twitter polls he participated in, but still managed to win somehow. honestly? despite him being a con artist, i think reigen truly does have a heart of gold. i was debating whether or not i wanted to put shigeo or reigen on here, but ultimately decided reigen because he's like... cute in a pathetic sort of way

7. SAYORI (doki doki literature club)

i'm surprised i've gotten so far without mentioning my preference of the childhood friend trope! i think it's a super cute trope, despite it's... tendency to not be the winning relationship in most shows.

i'm not sure what about sayori intrigued me so much—perhaps it was the way her struggles were written in a very real manner, despite her very cliche genki personality? regardless of whatever it is, i think she's my favorite ddlc character.

8. ALPHONSE ELRIC (fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood)

i just have to say that finishing fma:b ruined my life for like four days. i was in TEARS.

as i mentioned with ukyo, i really like gentle, caring characters, and alphonse definitely fits that category! he's calm, he's compassionate, and he has the strongest affection for stray cats. i really enjoyed his dynamic with the other characters, especially with edward. something about close-knit sibling bonds... man.

9. LLOYD GARMADON (ninjago)

is lloyd my favorite ninjago character? probably not. is he a character i really love from that series? yes!

i have my own opinions regarding the characterization ninjago gives its cast (sometimes it's... iffy), but regardless, i've always liked lloyd's character—from season one, where he was just a lil kid trying to make his name known, to now! season... fifteen?!

even after all these seasons, i still don't know what the element of energy means..!

10. KOROSENSEI (assassination classroom)

my favorite anime is assassination classroom!

i think this can be attributed to korosensei, who fundamentally changed my life when i was younger. he's empathic and observant, willing to do almost anything to help his students—and that stuck with me for the rest of my life.

being able to learn and grow alongside class e-3 is an experience i'll never forget.

[silkscream]

blessing

ੈ✩ yuuta okkotsu x reader

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, soft dom!yuuta, dacryphilia, oral sex, overstimulation, delayed orgasms, he's a little mean, slight yandere vibes because. it's yuuta.

ੈ✩ wc: 1.1k

ੈ✩ a/n: i'm on my soft dom!yuuta agenda. i also can't write him without feeling fucking insane

yuuta okkotsu is a gentleman. he holds the door open for you, gives you his jacket when you’re cold, has your ramen order memorized. everything about him is gossamer-soft, too. the cadence of his speech, the lithe way he moves, even though his lankiness has been replaced with lean muscle since you first met him.

yuuta okkotsu is gentle. just not when he fucks you.

it’s ironic, though, because his tone is still gentle. the rasp of his voice is low, quietly masculine, haunting, but still full of adoration. it’s alluring more than anything. he reminds you of the vampires you used to lust over from your childhood fantasy books. dark hair, dark eyes.

the essence of him is unfathomable to you — you can’t find the word for it, but it’s something akin to eve’s apple. how tempting he is, how much you’d let him ruin you, bruise the fruit of your flesh with his teeth.

he tells you to open your mouth. at the moment, he’s in between your legs, mouth slick with your cum, and he reaches to set his fingers onto your tongue. a small push and you choke on the taste of yourself.

it’s dirty. but when it’s yuuta, it purifies you. makes you his angel. you believe him like a god when he tells you as such.

“so sweet, don’t you think?” he murmurs. “my sweet girl. the best girl, yeah?”

“yes,” you cry.

he’s coaxed at least three orgasms from you in the past hour with his mouth and fingers alone. with bliss also comes pain, and the way he coos your name and calls you his good fucking girl feels like a divine reward in itself. he licks your tears, pride swelling in his chest.

“how about another for me, huh, baby?” he bites into the meat of your thigh as he circles your clit with his fingertip again, chuckling at the way you shake.

“i—i can’t."

“can’t?” yuuta raises a brow. he looks beautiful in between your legs. there’s something oddly terrifying about it despite how beautiful. “i know you can. i know you will.”

“yuuta, please—”

“you’ve done it before, haven’t you? usually take whatever i give you, every fucking time, right?”

“s’too much,” you sob.

he tuts. rounds his full lips into a taunting pout.

“want my cock, then, don’t you? poor girl, you should’ve just asked.”

(you couldn’t have. you know better.)

“please, please—”

you don’t even get to finish begging before he’s buried inside you. pushed to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix with bruising force. he wipes away your tears as if he isn’t the cause of them.

“too rough?”

“n-no.”

but it hurts. it hurts in the way it feels too good, too sensitive after the amount he’s made you cum. he hasn’t even been inside you for a full minute and you already feel the ache in your abdomen ready to burst into flames.

the sweet nothings he whispers into your temple are loving and affectionate, but the way he rolls his hips into you is mean. he has his hand snake up to squeeze your breast, nicking your nipple with the grit of his teeth just so he can hear you mewl like a wounded kitten. it’s one of his favorite sounds.

his palm settles on your neck after, gentle still despite his other hand nearly bruising the fat above your hip.

he knows you’re close from the way your eyes blank out, glazed over in bliss as he tightens his hand around your throat.

“close, baby, i’m—”

and then the bastard stops. chuckles against your jaw at the way you cry as he thrusts into you so agonizingly slow. unsteady. taunting.

“yuuta!”

“’m sorry baby, did you wanna cum? i just thought you wanted me to hold out for longer. it’s nice like this, see?”

“fuck, yuu—”

“that’s not very nice,” he grins. he ruts into you extra hard, just once.

“that’s not what i meant,” you whine.

“wanna cum? just ask.”

you know you can’t just ask. you know he means he wants you to beg.

“pleasemakemecum, please, please!”

“yeah, why should i?”

“’cause ‘m your girl,” you slur. he loves you like this. wet mouth all slack, cheeks flushed like a nymph in a baroque painting.

he pulls out, then, drawing out another moan from you, just to flip you over onto your stomach. your hair is bunched up into his fist while his teeth are on your shoulder. when you feel him again, your walls full of him, you feel even dizzier than before.

“yeah, my good fucking girl,” he groans against your skin. “so good. so sweet to me.”

yuuta has never been an apostle of hedonism. he’s always reserved himself, the parts of him that wanted, thinking that his love and devotion would only curse other people.

when you came along and loved him so irrevocably, he felt reborn. drunk on pleasure. being with you makes him realize that it’s okay to take. he deserves it, doesn’t he, after everything?

you have him on a leash and you don’t even know. it’s why he likes to play with you so cruelly like this — to have his cake and eat it, too. because the way he controls you in the oasis of your bedroom, the way he marks you up and swallows you down like honey — it’s what you want as much as him. and he’d rather die than not give you everything you want. even if he’s a little mean.

if he was a curse of a boy, you were his blessing.

“yuuta, i’m gonna cum,” you gasp. as you clutch the bedsheets, he covers your hand with his, engulfing it, entangling your fingers together. “cum with me, please—”

he wants to open his mouth to speak, anything to push you over the edge, but he’s as breathless as you are. consumed in your skin, in your cunt. he pulls your face toward his, instead, swallowing down your moans as he spills inside of you. you convulse, your orgasm like a lightning strike.

yuuta laughs softly against your mouth and soothes the bruised parts of you with his palms gently.

“you were so mean today,” you sigh.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he says, nuzzling your neck. “had a bad day, but i feel much better now. let me run you a bath, okay?”

you hum dreamily as your lover leaves you. the fuzz in your head satiates you. empty-minded except for him. and when he has you in warm water, hands washing your wet hair, yuuta feels blessed. baptized in tenderness.

[oceanserenades]

I talk to the seven years old me this afternoon.

Sitting by the garage of our childhood home while watching the road that filled with nothing but emptiness, though sometimes you can hear the national milk company jingle ringing from afar.

I look at her eyes, still very clear without glasses, she looks nice. Her curly hair was tied up- like it used to be because mom never been a fan of how messy it looks. The chubby cheeks, she surely looks like one lovely niece you met on a family dinner. She's still as timid as ever, but she recognize my face and smiled at me.

"So, what are you doing now?" She asked.

"Nothing, sorry to ruin your fantasy about growing up".

She looked at me in confusion, trying to do math on her head, counting something with her also chubby but small hands.

"Aren't you like 23 now?"

"Almost. You know we never liked adding our age until we reach our birthday? I'm still 22, legally, for now"

"But you're graduated from college, right? Are we a doctor now?"

I smiledㅡ a bitter smile to her, trying a way to explain in the most babiest way so she could understand.

"Yes, I did. But we're not a doctor. I'm sorry"

Trying to convince her at this state won't make a change, I'm trying to find a better way to explain that life isn't as easy as it looks. But then again, she's still seven. She'll learn something later, not now. But, like, did I just made her losing her dream? Maybe I shouldn't have come tonightㅡ

"Whatever you're doing there, I know you're trying your best. I know that because I know you better than anybody else. Because you're me, and I'm you! We're striving to be a better version of ourself and I think it's cool. That's what adults doㅡ beside working, of course"

And now she leaves me in disbelief. I never imagined a seven years old me will tell myself that I'm trying my best, the words I really want to hear. I smiled to that, can't hide my happiness. It's too obvious that she started to chuckles! Her laugh is contagious that I started to laugh too, at us, at the destiny that brought us here.

"Oh, you'll do well. You'll meet someone you think very dear to you, but there's always people who doesn't like you and that's fine. You'll meet a friend who doesn't bring back your favorite comic book, we will think she lost it until today. You'll love this thing, that makes you love to sing and dance, that's called passion. You'll face toss and turn in your life, but you'll be fine. You will always be fine". I blabbering too much I started to feel worried about what she thinks about me after that.

But then, she only nodded at my words, maybe it's too much for a seven years old kid. For whatever coming next, I do hope she remembers that she will be fineㅡ she will always be and that she's a gift, even to herself. A precious one, to people around her. Just one individual with a lot of love to share. That's her, and that's me, myself.

I pat her head and tell her to heads inside because it's getting darker and we know eyang would be very worried if we're not sitting by the dining table before 6 PM.

I forgot to tell her that she'll be in a big trouble on third grade because she forgot to bring kendi to school and she only remembers it in hours before monday.. but, you know, I think she'll deal with it.

[sleepparalysisdemon112]

Crush

A/N thank you for all the love! I really appreciate all of you, especially with me being new to tumblr and publishing my stories as well.  pairing: fem reader X Aemond Targaryeon 

Summary: You have always had a crush on Aemond he just learned and wants to use this to his advantage 

Warnings: none, a kiss?

You had been anticipating the day you returned to kings landing since when you last left, counting down the days. Simply to see a boy that had probably changed even more over the course of 6 months, but that also amused you. 

You had always had a crush on Aemond, being fascinated by his intelligence and kindness as a child, and now a man he has only improved. Your fascination was entirely apparent, everyone in Westeros could tell you were so far deep in love with Aemond Targaryen that the chance of escape, was less than slim. 

You had tried to find a reason, an exact pinoint on why you felt magnetically attracted to him, but overall you supposed it was his entire being. His beautiful silver hair, his chizzled face, perfectly shaped lips, and the eye patch. Some would say it ruined his overall appearance but to you, he was a god on Earth, and you prayed to them every night that maybe the next visit would be the one where he finally noticed you. 

Although you belonged in a lower less-known house King Viserys had a long lasted friendship with your father, meaning you spent many months of your childhood in kinglanding, mostly playing with Helena and listening to her fascinating facts on bugs while watching Aemond from afar. Sometimes, you would get distracted from her stories and focus on him, if that were during training or when he would read the stories stored in the huge castle library. 

Every year when you came to visit, and the more he grew, the more you were wrapped around his finger, and he had no idea. Yes there was the once in a blue moon conversation, it was inevitable to happen over the years of youth spent together, but this visit you knew it would be different.

—-----------------------------------------------

It all began at the welcoming dinner, you had finally reached of age and showed it to, your body resembling a womans your untimely beauty and wonderful hair, your father had already been propositioned piles of marriage proposals. 

The dinner was as usual, you were sat next to Helena and Aegon, Aegon throwing you an occasional glance, but overall you mostly spoke to Helena and caught up on the newest events. 

Unaware, Alicent had already informed Aemond on how you looked at him, she told him what he was to busy to notice, your absolute infatuation with him, bringing him to a new fascination with you. 

Everytime you spoke to the whole table his eye followed you closely, and during the dinner you would occasionally catch his eye, turn red in the cheeks, and look away. He would smirk and continue his observations. 

Then it was under the tree in godswood, you were reading an epic from before your time, some of the translations were not completely accurate, but you tried your best to create the missing words yourself. The godswood was empty, for once, this was your favorite place to talk to Helena, and a good quiet area for absolute concentration. Usually. 

A relaxed Aemond made his way into the godswood, stopping in his tracks when he noticed your flushed face looking up at him before you shut the book and were beginning to rise, “Why are leaving my lady?” 

Your eyes raised from the ground wide and looking anywhere but him, a smile threatened to spread on your face from just a very sentence from his lips, “Uhm, sorry my- my prince I just assumed you would like to be left alone,”  You flattened out your skirts trying to straighten yourself and look as good as you could make yourself feel. 

Aemond smirked at you, “you assumed wrong, my lady, we can share the same tree, I do not bite, I swear it,” he smirked before walking over your eyes following him without looking him directly in the eyes, your whole body temperature had increased by atleast 10 degrees and part of you wanted to run away from everything, and another part wanted to bask in the moment and confess right then and there. 

When he sat under the tree positioning his book and himself comfortably he looked up at you, frozen.

“You may sit,” he smirked,

 “Oh yeah, right, sorry I forget myself,” 

he responded with a slight chuckle, that only made your stomach fill with more butterflies, you could probably grab the tension you felt. 

Once you were sat you opened your book and tried to pay attention to the words, but his occasional glances were making it almost impossible. 

“My lady your face is quite red, are you feeling ok?” he spoke lowly with false concern. 

When your head spun to meet his eyes before drifting away, “Oh yes my prince, thank you, these skirts are just warmer some days more than others,” what kind of answer what that? 

Aemond placed his hand on your forehead making all thoughts going through your head stop and only focus on his hand gliding down the side of your face before grazing your jawline and grabbing under your chin, “has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are,” Over the years Aemond had grown to be a brave man, and knowing now that you were smitten with him, he planned on using this to his advantage, but he couldn’t deny your beauty or his fascination by you. 

“I uhm, thank you, thank you my prince,”  his decision was forward, very forward, he knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t seem to find a reason in the moment not to. 

“Might I kiss you, my lady,” He asked with a smirk, stunned at the sudden request you couldn’t form an answer and simply shook your head yes,”

“Eyes on me love, and please use your words,” Your eyes finally met his “Yes, yes please,” he spread his hand over your jawline, thumb still on your chin before he brought the two of you closer your lips meeting.

You couldn’t put in words how just one kiss left you breathless, it didn’t last long, both of you inexperienced, but it was enough to fuel your love for him more than you saw possible. 

When his lips left yours, he grazed the side of your face once more before simply returning to his book, leaving you confused, and still questioning if this was real or simply another day dream of yours. 

[rainpudding]

ddlc girls when it rains!

Monika

Yall were just having a picnic in her garden when it suddenly started raining. Monika ran to take the laundry out while you packed the picnic carrying it back to her home.

No worries tho! The day is never ruined since Monika had backup plans. She immediately pulls out flashcards as she asks you if you want to study. (One right answer, one kiss) or if you want to learn how to play the piano. But if you aren't a study person or you're not in the exam time then she will be okay with watching movies.

Surprisingly she is very clingy in private. So she hugs you as you under many blankets watch some movies.

I headcanon Monica as a kind of old soul who really enjoys nostalgia. So I can imagine yall watching her favorite childhood movies, though that's not often. Her favorites are usually black-and-white old romance movies, if she is in the mood to scare you she would like to watch some newest horror movies.

NATSUKI

Yall would be probably hanging out in some huge mall in the arcade zone. As Natsuki and you had funny competitions who can win more times while yall were losing all your savings. Suddenly it started raining and everyone started to panic. The mall was about to close because of the huge storm approaching. Natsuki just giggled and took your hand motioning onto the mall wc. You immediately took the hint and followed her to hide in there.

When the mall closed and everyone left you knew the game was about start. From picking junk food from malls to eating popcorn right from the popcorn machine at the cinema zone. After trying all the clothes and reading all mangas in the book store you finally managed to sneak out. When you arrived at your home you started preparing a pillow fort. I think It's even canon that Natsuki is a fan of anime so yall would def binge-watch some of the newest anime. No horrors tho!! Natsuki is deeply scared of them.

YURI

You were hanging in the library as a huge storm came. While others hurried home because the rain will get worse Yuri just kept calm finishing her favorite book. After that you both decided to go home, Yuri would set an umbrella for both of you as you would walk home. She would be kind of anxious about the closeness between you but later got more comfortable.

When you arrive at her home she would prepare green tea and set some music on vinyl. I hc as liking soft and slow music and also calming activities. So I think she would like to do origami or watch the rain falling onto the windows while being cuddled. (She would also light up some aroma candles to make her room extra cozy)

SAYORI

When it started raining Sayori would be so excited! Running to the rain to catch some raindrops on her tongue. You were probably in the town in a sweet shop.

Arriving home she would immediately hug you to get some warmth from you. "Sayoriii you're cold and dripping wet," you push her lightly away as the water drips everywhere she goes. "Awhhh sorry!!" She giggles running to the window to squeeze the water out of her clothes. You would end up watching some romcoms or youtube videos while she would sketch things into her little sketchbook with crayons.

[luthriel-tinuviel]

AU/Canon Divergence Friendly - RULES

Follow From: @eunoiaastralwings

Other RP Blogs: @quiet-flower-wonderlings | @illicit-unknown-shadows | @son-of-the-moon-and-sun | @tears-of-burden

Non-Tolkien: @shadow-hazehuntress | @spider-lily-droplets

Feel free to reach out – with an idea of your own

FICS/HEADCANONS: I’ve got you, Brother | I’ll Be Your Light (Lúthriel x @vanifinwe-feanorian) | How Ardently (Lúthriel x Erestor) | Sleeping Beauty AU (Lúthriel x Vanifinwë) | Lúthriel NSFW Alphabet

Artworks: Aestheic | Lúthriel x Erestor | Lú Animation artwork | Lúthriel x Vanifinwë | Lúthriel and Dior (twins) | Lúthriel x Erestor | Lú monochrome artwork | Poor Grandpa Thingol | Lúthriel | Sorry Ada. . . | Lú writing letters | Erestor x Lú | Lúthien & Lúthriel

NAME: Lúthriel Tinuviel

MEANING: lútha - to enchant, tinuviel - nightingale (named after her mother)

REASON: Her eyes are made to enchant according to her mother - her singing is as beautiful as her mother's according to her father.

NICKNAMES: Lú, princess, snowdrop

GENDER: Female

BIRTH DATE: F.A. 470

BIRTHPLACE: Tol Galen

ORDER OF BIRTH: Born 12 minutes after her twin brother

HOUSE: House of Bëor, distaff descent from House of Thingol

HERITAGE: Heritage Mannish father, half-Elf/half-Maia mother

PARENTAGE: Beren and Luthien

SIBLINGS: Twin sister to Dior Eluchil

POWERS: Controls the forest and reading stars for incoming danger

SOCIAL CLASS: Wealthy, Princess, later loses her home. Eventual advisor to Elrond in Rivendell.

FACECLAIM: Bogdana Kadritskaya

VISUAL AGE: Mid 20's (immortal)

HEIGHT: 6’3

BUILD: Lean, Lithe

RACE/ETHNICITY: Sindar

EYE SHAPE: Almond

EYE COLOR: hazel/green (right eye), blue (left eye) - heterochromia

HAIR COLOR: black - left down, sometimes ties the sides to keep hair away from her face.

HAIR STYLE: freely left down most of the time — sometimes ties the fronts to leave hair away from her face

DISTINGUISHING MARKS/FEATURE: her eyes

SKIN: fair, slightly sensitive

HANDS: small, slim fingers, squoval nails

SCARS: a long hyperpigmented scar on her neck she gained when escaping the ruin of Doriath.

TYPES OF CLOTHES: mostly velvety light flowy hooded dresses - e.g one - dark in color like navy or dark purple

WHAT ARE THEIR FEET LIKE: boots or clean slippers, but does enjoy walking barefoot in the forest and grassy fields a lot - it's her way of connecting with nature.

MANNERISMS: Has a stubborn look with narrowed eyes when angry - also balls her fists until her nails are digging into her palms.

MULTISHIP: Yes

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

LIKES: books, family, exploring the forest and stars, archery, singing, enjoys writing poetry, play fights (especially with Dior), lawfully good personalities, red wine.

DISLIKES: her eyes (sometimes), unmoral, immorality, arguments (with Dior especially - or another loved one).

FEARS: The inevitable losing of her family, losing control of her powers because of her strong emotions, orcs, oath-blinded Feanorians.

LITERATURE: Romance novels and poetry.

MOST PRIZED TREASURE: The half star necklace she shares with Dior.

FAVORTIE COLOR AND WHY: Green because symbolizes aspirations, resumption, and peace - also because it's the color of nature.

FAVORED EXPLETIVES: Oh my Stars! Eru give me patience!

HOBBIES: singing, poetry, reading, listening to the sounds of the forest - it's relaxing for her.

FAVORITE CHILDHOOD MEMORY: When she received the half-star necklace she can share with her twin or her any picnics she had with her family in Tol Galen.

LEAST FAVORITE CHILDHOOD MEMORY: Lú's least favorite memory when she dreamt of losing her family - but later when she was safely tucked in her father's arms, she realized she was safe with them and it made her happy - her emotions are linked her magic, so it caused flowers to bloom inside their home. It was also the first time everyone realized she was born with magic - but also a time Melian had realized Lú was born to be an immortal.

(Lú's first memory was from when she was a little elfling. She had woken up from a terrible nightmare - Beren instantly took her into his arms, while Lúthien attended Dior who had woken up from his twin's cries. She fell asleep on his chest and Beren had to hold her for the whole night - she was too afraid to let him go. The next morning everyone had woken up to see flowers blooming inside their home).

PERSONAL TRIGGERS: reminders of the losses of her family - the ruin of Doriath, running into the forest barefoot hoping to save her nephews. Battle and blood.

WHAT ARE PHRASES OR WORDS THEY OVER USE: Eru give me patience!

ARE THEY OPTIMISTIC OR PESSIMISTIC: Optimistic in Tol Galen and before the ruin of Doriath. Pessimistic and in depression afterwards until she reaches Rivendell.

WHAT MAKES THEN LAUGH OUT LOUD: Anything hilariously stupid done by her friends or the twins before the ruin of Doriath. Afterwards she doesn't tend to laugh even if something seems funny a small smile is the most you get from her.

HOW DO THEY DISPLAY AFFECTION: Words of affirmation, acts of service - and physical touch (when a romantic relationship).

STRONGEST CHARACTER TRAIT: Compassion, fair.

WEAKEST CHARACTER TRAIT: Stubbornness, jealousy (she already lost so many people in her life she easily gets jealous. But it is not toxic, she tries subtle ways to get her lover's attention back. Little puffing, shifting from one foot to the other; after some time even step closer to her beloved or link arms with them— this is when she feels a little insecure and starts comparing herself to the other person). Has Thingol’s temperament for sure (but denies it).

GREATEST FEAR: Losing yet another loved one.

WHAT DO THEY CONSIDER AN OVERRATED VIRTUE: Solemnity.

IF THEY COULD CHANCE ONE THING ABOUT THEMSELVES, WHAT WOULD IT BE: Her eyes - she hates it at times some people think they are too strange and she grows to dislike them. Her family was the only ones loved them - she has yet to meet someone who loved her eyes like they did. Her powers - they are the one thing stopping her from sailing west and giving up her immortality , times when she feels alone and lost after the ruin of Doriath she wishes she didn't have these powers and can freely sail west.

Song: Dynasty by MIIA, Lovely by Billie Eilish, and Arcade (Loving You Is A Losing Game) by Duncan Laurence ft. Fletcher are songs that can describe Lú's life.

Smell: she prefers to wear perfume that smells like lilies and snowdrops.

PARENTS (Beren and Lúthien):

Lúthriel and her parents have a great relationship. They both encourage her to take her powers to the fullest but also be careful how she wishes to use them. Luthien and Beren always gave a talk with Dior and her — considering their future and gifted them small necklace that can be connected together to make a whole star Lúthriel and Dior always had it with them and they never took it off — even after Dior's death she always keeps it as her most prized treasure. Beren would always tell Lúthriel to use her powers for good — and try to help those in need — like how Luthien saved him. Luthien would always encourage not her to be never dishearted because her parents and brother are mortal and tell her she was made to be immortal for a reason and she must fulfill it.

DIOR (Twin):

Dior and her are very close — they have each other's backs. She trusts him with almost anything. He's always the one protecting her if seome ever said anything bad about her 2 different colored eyes. She spend countless nights crying to him about it. She feared no one would ever love her because she's so different from others. He's actually the first she told and she thinks she's bi. Their relationship however strained a little — when the silmaril came into Dior's hands.

Since she's immortal because of her inherited powers — most of the time Dior and her, try not to argue and cause strain on their relationship. Instead encourage each other to the fullest.

She stays with her parents for a few years — then travels to Doriath to stay with him afterwards. She's really hates separating with anyone — especially family. But Beren, especially — tells her to stay with her twin because one day she will regret not having all the time spent with him. Both their parents know how much the twins mean to each other — so they rather them be together than separates. I like to describe Dior and Lúthriel as like two bright stars on each side (north and south) shining as much as the other — providing so much light.

Herself and Dior shares a special bond like that — and either of them can tell if the other is feeling upset or unwell. They can't hide anything from each other.

NIMLOTH (SISTER-IN-LAW):

Lúthriel didn't know how to feel about her at first — but then she saw Nimloth was kind and loved Dior. So she wished them a bright future and was happy for her brother. She only wishes she can find a love like theirs too

ELWING, ELURÉD, ELURÍN (NIECE AND NEPHEWS):

She's a great aunt— always up to mischief with her nephews and niece. She's the type of a aunt that gives them goodies even if they are grounded — so you can imagine how much they love her. She always showed them her powers ,— little things like growing flowers or strengthening trees.

THINGOL (Grandfather):

Her relationship with Thingol is very strained because of the silmaril. From an young age Lúthriel could always tell the silmaril was bad news. She always could get a strong dark vibe from it. She never understood what good it brought. She had multiple arguments with Thingol as she grew up — but knowing he was still her grandfather matter what she still respected to him to an extend.

MELIAN (Grandmother):

She definitely closer with Melian. Melian understood her views — she was always the one that helped Lúthriel calm down after than argument with Thingol.

CANON LOVE INTEREST:

Erestor — Chief Councilor and Librarian of Imladris - former warrior in Eregion

MCU AU LOVE INTEREST: Loki — god of mischief and lies.

ROLEPLAY LOVE INTERESTS (in different AUs):

@vanifinwe-feanorian — 8th Fëanorian and Daughter of Fëanor

Wielding her Magic:

She can wield magic — she can command the forest to her will and she can read into the pattern of the stars — to tell if any danger is incoming.

Melian and Luthien both tried helping her hone in her powers— but soon they and her learnt it was better if she was self-taught as her powers has almost a mind of its own — and she needed to harness them on it on her own. They were still on the sidelines encouraging and giving her advice. It's through their encouragement she developed.

However, there was a lot of mishaps along the way — Dior sometimes still tease her about it. - She almost hit Thingol in the head with a branch once and another time she accidentally hung her father downside on a tree.

During the time Dior was in possession of the silmaril - their relationship was strained and she did not spot the oncoming danger. She felt at fault for the death of her twin and sister-in-law, she hugged his lifeless body - crying her heart out. She connected their half necklaces one last time and set out to find her nephews - because her niece thankfully escaped - the pattern of the stars told her, Elured and Elurin was in greater danger. Due to the heartache of her twin brother's death - it was hard for her to locate her nephews - she was exhausted and tired. She crashed in woods and cried out to the forest to save them - in canon tradition among the Nandor of Ossiriand held that they were led to the safety of the woodlands by birds and beasts and thereby survived - for my oc this was caused by her powers - she knew they survived but never found them again.

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight.  This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”