#nobody asked for this and yet here we are

[anonomano]

Connection ~ Carlos Sainz

Part two

Mafia!Carlos Sainz x Fem,Arranged!Reader

prologue part one

Synopsis: The day of and the night after.

Warnings: Smut 18+, Dubious consent, toxic!carlos, a description of how pregnancies work

Your wedding day was tomorrow. You couldn't believe it. You couldn’t help but reminisce on all of the stories your mother used to tell you about true love; you had always thought that that would be how your life would unfold. Yet, here you are on the eve of your wedding day, you hadn't seen Carlos since that dinner and nobody would tell you anymore about him.

“Darling?” her mother this time “We need to talk” she looked nervous, as if what she had to say would greatly affect you. You hoped it was about Carlos. She sat next to you on the bed.

“Its about Carlos…sort of” she started “I guess its more about you” she seemed awkward you didn't understand.

“About me? And sort of Carlos?”

“Yes” she sighed “You had asked how babies are made and I feel must tell you before you got married” you looked at her, hopeful, she had never wanted to share this information with you before.

“It’s totally okay to feel confused. So, let’s start simple. When a man and a woman decide they want to have a baby, they get married, and then they choose to become parents when the time is right. Now, the physical part of making a baby is what you’re asking about. What happens is, during intimacy — and I know this word might sound awkward, but it’s simply the act where a man and a woman express their love and connection — the man’s sperm meets the woman’s egg.”

“Sperm and egg? Wait, how does that even happen?”

“The man’s sperm is in his semen, and when a couple is intimate, the man’s semen is released inside the woman. There, it can meet the egg that is released from the woman’s ovaries. If the sperm fertilizes the egg, then a baby can begin to grow inside her womb.” she states gently looking at you to see if you understand.

“Okay, so... it’s not just hugging or kissing, then?”

“No darling” she chuckled “its not just hugging or kissing”

——————————————————————————

It was the night before Carlos’ wedding as well; But he was handling it very differently. He wasn't alone, or with family, he was with a woman.

“That was great” she rolled off of him, placing her hand on his chest. “You know if you ever want to do this a—”

“I’m getting married” he blurted out “I can't do this anymore” her hand slowly went up to his jaw and she sat up to look at him more directly.

“That doesn't mean anything. You aren't marrying for love, or else you wouldn't be here with me now. What's the harm in getting your rocks off?”

He looks at her “I suppose you have a point” he pushes her hand off his face “doesn't mean it will be with you”

——————————————————————————

The church was decorated beautifully, traditional flowers along the pews; The Sainz has spared no expense.

You were dressed beautifully, in a long white gown that sat perfectly on your hips. Your hair was done up with pieces delicately framing your face. Your veil was placed on top dropping to the floor; it covered your face that was lightly covered in makeup, more then you would usually wear.

The ceremony was simple; your father walked you down the aisle, you said the stock vows to each other, put on rings, and kissed.

It was your first kiss.

There was a party afterwards but instead of being seated with your family, you were with Carlos.

“So, what made you change your mind about marrying me?” you questioned really looking at him for the first time today. He was dressed in a gorgeous suit and his hair was messy in a structured way. He looked good.

“Well, who else was there?” he looks at you, no feelings in his eyes “Plus, now I don't have to deal with your father anymore” you cringed “you don't seem like you will that big of a hassel” he looked away, towards another table, not sparing you a second glance.

You sat in silence for most of the night, people chatting and laughing all around you. The only person who came to talk to you was your mother; she told you that tonight you would have to do the marital act. Try to make a baby.

——————————————————————————

It was after the wedding; you were sitting on your new bed in your new house. You were waiting for Carlos. Your hair was down now and you were dressed in a simple nightgown and robe.

Carlos entered the room.

Carlos's touch is a little rough as he runs his fingers over your cheek. Despite his outward show of affection, there's a hint of disinterest in his eyes. He's going through the motions of your wedding night, fulfilling the obligations of his arranged marriage.

He takes a step closer to you, his hands now on your shoulders. He looks down at you with a detached expression, as if you’re just another object to be used and discarded.

Carlos's hands move down your arms, his touch becoming more possessive. He pulls you close to him, your bodies pressed together. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, but it's not the same as the heat of desire.

He leans in and kisses your neck, his lips cold and almost perfunctory. He's going through the motions of foreplay, but there's no passion behind his actions.

Carlos's hands continue to wander over your body, but his touch is clinical and impersonal. He's more focused on getting what he wants, rather than pleasing you.

He pushes you onto the bed, his movements rough and demanding. You feel a mixture of fear and excitement as he hovers over you, his eyes cold and calculating.

Carlos's hands push up your nightgown, revealing your bare legs. He runs his fingers over your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Despite his disinterest, you can feel herself responding to his touch, your body betraying you.

He leans down and whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're mine now."

Carlos's lips move down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nips as he goes. His hands continue to explore your body, moving higher and higher until they reach the edge of your underwear.

He looks up at you, his eyes cold and detached, but there's a hint of triumph in his gaze. He knows he has complete control over you now.

Carlos slides his hand under your underwear, his fingers finding their way to your most sensitive spot. He begins to rub you slowly, his movements rough and unyielding.

You let out a soft gasp, your body arching into his touch despite your misgivings. You can feel the pleasure building inside of you, but you know that this is just a means to an end for him.

Carlos increases the pace of his movements, his fingers now moving with a relentless rhythm. You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body betraying you once again.

He leans down and kisses you roughly, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You can taste the bitter tang of his indifference, but you’re too lost in the sensations to care.

Carlos pulls away from the kiss, his breathing ragged. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of possession and contempt.

He grabs your hips and flips you over, forcing you onto your hands and knees. you can feel the cool air against your exposed skin, making you shiver.

Carlos positions himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You can feel the weight of him as he pushes into you, the sensation both pleasurable and uncomfortable.

He begins to move, his thrusts rough and unyielding. You buries your face in the pillow, trying to muffle your moans and sobs.

Carlos continues to thrust into you, his pace brutal and unforgiving. He's not holding back, taking what he wants from you with no regard for your pleasure or pain.

You feel a mix of shame and desire coursing through your veins, your body betraying you once again. Despite the rough treatment, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Carlos's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he nears his own climax. He lets out a low growl, his body tensing as he pushes deeper and harder into you.

You feel a sudden rush of pleasure as you finally reaches your peak, your body shuddering with release. But the moment is short-lived, as Carlos continues to thrust into you without regard for your sensitivity.

Carlos continues to pound into you, his movements becoming more and more erratic. You can feel the warmth of his release as he finally finds his own climax, spilling himself inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress. You feel a mix of exhaustion and humiliation wash over you, the reality of what just happened sinking in.

Carlos rolls off of you, panting heavily. He lies there for a moment, his eyes closed as he catches his breath.

You turn your head to look at him, feeling a pang of disgust mixed with a strange sense of satisfaction. Despite the rough treatment, you can't deny that it felt good in the moment.

Carlos opens his eyes and looks over at you, his expression unreadable. He reaches out and runs a hand over your back, his touch surprisingly gentle.

You flunch at his touch, still feeling raw and exposed from what just happened. You can feel him leaking out of you, a reminder of your consummated marriage.

Carlos pulls his hand away, his expression turning cold once more. He gets up from the bed and starts to gather his clothes, dressing quickly and efficiently.

He doesn't look at you as he finishes getting dressed, acting as if you’re not even there.

Once he's fully dressed, Carlos turns to look at you. you’re still lying on the bed, feeling exposed and vulnerable. He looks you up and down, his eyes roaming over your body.

For a moment, there's a flicker of something in his gaze, something that almost looks like regret. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cold indifference.

Carlos clears his throat, breaking the silence that has settled over the room.

"I'll see you in the morning," he says, his voice emotionless. Without another word, he turns, places his mother's old pearls on her nightstand, and walks out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and feelings.

@formulas-bitch

[sunny44]

Love is in Mallorca (chapter 5)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Y/n goes to Mallorca intending to leave her life behind, at least for a while. Then she meets a mysterious guy who makes this trip, to say the least, unforgettable.

Previous chapter

In the days that followed, that feeling of floating between the unknown and the familiar lingered. It was as if, with every conversation, every walk, we were getting closer to a truth he refused to reveal. Mornings were spent exploring hidden corners of the island, and nights, under the stars, were filled with laughter, casual conversations, and, underlying it all, a silence as dense as fog.

I should have been satisfied. Any ordinary person would have enjoyed the experience to the fullest, without questioning, without trying to look beneath the surface. But something in me longed for more. There was something about him that sparked my curiosity—and my heart—in a way no one else ever had.

It was on the third day, after breakfast in the village, that everything began to change.

We were standing at the top of a cliff, watching the waves crash violently against the rocks below. The wind tossed my hair, and the salty sea breeze reached us. He stood beside me, hands in his pockets, his gaze lost on the horizon.

“It’s beautiful here,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

“It is,” he replied, his voice low, almost distant.

I looked at him, trying to understand what was going through his mind. He always seemed so present, yet so far away.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to just disappear for a while?” he asked suddenly, without taking his eyes off the sea.

The question caught me off guard. It wasn’t something I expected to hear, and the vulnerability in his voice made me hesitate before answering.

“Disappear?” I repeated, as if I needed time to process. “You mean… run away?”

He finally turned to me, and there was something in his eyes I had never seen before. A deep sadness, a weariness that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“Not necessarily run away, but… hide. Find a place where you’re nobody. Where no one expects anything from you, where you can just… be yourself.”

I watched him closely, my heart pounding in my chest. This was the window I had been waiting for, the moment he might, finally, let his guard down.

“I understand,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Sometimes it feels like the whole world is watching you, expecting you to be something you might not even want to be.”

He nodded, his intense gaze never leaving mine.

“Exactly,” he whispered.

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of the waves crashing below. I knew I was on the verge of discovering something important, but at the same time, I feared what it might mean. Then, he took a step closer to me.

“I like who you are,” he said, his voice firm. “You see me in a way few people can. You have no expectations, no desire to fit me into a mold. And that… is something I haven’t had in a long time.”

Words stuck in my throat, because for a moment, I thought he was going to tell me who he really was. But instead, he looked away again, fixing his eyes on the distant horizon.

“I don’t know how this will end,” he continued. “But I’m grateful for every moment we’ve spent together.”

My heart ached at the sincerity of his words. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but in a way, it was what I needed.

“You know you can trust me, right?” I asked softly, trying to get him to open up, even just a little more.

He smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I trust you,” he replied, but there was something in his tone that told me he was still holding back. Something that, for some reason, he couldn’t share.

We stood there, at the edge of the cliff, with the wind tossing our hair back and the constant sound of the sea crashing against the rocks below us. The physical closeness between us seemed to heighten the invisible tension, and I knew that, sooner or later, the bubble we were living in would burst.

I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know what he was hiding or why he seemed so desperate to keep his identity a secret. But in that moment, I decided it didn’t matter. What mattered was that, no matter what he was hiding, there was a greater truth there: he was struggling with something far deeper than I could understand.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, he turned to me again, his gaze softer than before.

“Want to have dinner?” he asked, as if the previous conversation had never happened.

I smiled, even though inside I was wondering how long he would continue avoiding the truth.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

We made our way down the slope to a small wooden cabin he had mentioned earlier. The smell of fresh food filled the air, and the sound of people laughing and chatting animatedly added life to the atmosphere. He chose a discreet table, away from the main bustle, and we sat across from each other.

This time, though, the silence between us wasn’t heavy. It was more like a temporary truce, an unspoken understanding that, at some point, everything would come to light.

While we waited for our food, he looked at me for a long moment, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of my face.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said finally, breaking the silence.

“Sure.”

“If you knew someone you met was hiding something important but wasn’t ready to tell you, would you push them? Or would you wait until they were ready?”

I swallowed hard, fully understanding what he was asking me.

“I think… I’d wait,” I replied honestly. “Because sometimes, the person needs time. And sometimes, forcing the truth can push them even further away.”

He nodded, as if relieved by my answer.

“That’s good to hear.”

The food arrived, and we began to eat, but the conversation faded into the background. The feeling that we were on the brink of something important, something that could change everything, lingered in the air.

I knew he would tell me, sooner or later. But until then, I would have to be content with the mystery and trust that, when the truth came out, I’d be ready to handle it.

And somehow, I knew that whatever he was hiding would change everything between us.

I just didn’t know if I was ready for it.

Bonus scene!

Cs55private Instagram stories

“Beautiful days with this beautiful lady”

@landonorris maaate, you went to Mallorca for 3 weeks and already found someone to spend your vacation time with?

Wow, I’m impress with your rizz

@Cs55private mate, I think I’m in love with these woman

@landonorris wait, really?

@Cs55private yes man, I’m down bad

Tag list: @lieslostinsilence @iloveallmyboys @r4zberrygirl @hoya122 @sid-is-gr8 @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @barcelonaloverf1life @dark-night-sky-99 @willowsnook @thegirlamongthestars

Next chapter

[littlemissgeek8]

Gonna toss a couple snippets from my current WIP, an as-yet-untitled AU fic featuring an arranged marriage between my Cadash and the Viscount of Kirkwall, one Varric Tethras. Putting two snippets in because well, they're short and the second one is drama.

-------

"You said there were other girls staying here before me?" she asked, undoing the lacing on her wet dress.

"Aye, a handful or so, showed up one after the other," Eliza replied. "All dolled up they were, painted and everything. Showed up one after the other and spent their time hanging off his Excellency when they weren't loitering about in their best clothes or wandering off to the market." She shook her head with a frown. "Rubbed all of us the wrong way. We couldn't have been gladder to see each of them go."

Darvia paused, her head still inside the dress she was putting on. "Go? Where did they go?"

"Nobody's quite sure, one day they were here, the next they were gone. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say."

A cold chill swept down Darvia's back. Gone, just like that. She'd wondered at first if they were live-in courtesans hired by the Viscount, from the descriptions the housekeeper had given. But if they were like her... had they been brides for the Viscount as well? In the back of her head she remembered hearing a story about some Orlesian noble who'd married wife after wife and murdered them in a secret room in his castle. Beard-someone or other, Orlesians had strange names. Slowly she took her braids down from where they were pinned on top of her head and began to undo them so they'd dry properly.

Was she in danger too? She'd have to be on her guard. Still behind the screen, she lifted her dress and double checked the daggers strapped to her thighs, making sure they were secure. Then, she resettled her skirts and walked over to the bed. "May I help you tidy up? I'm used to taking care of myself back home."

"Bed's just about made, but if you'd like to stash your clothes and belongings, the wardrobe's beside you," Eliza called. Darvia nodded and set about dragging her trunk over to unpack, taking extra care with the lacquered box. She gave it a gentle stroke before closing the wardrobe doors on it.

Beware, Serah No-Beard, this bride has claws.

------

The Viscount of Kirkwall lay curled on the ground, surrounded by the remains of a tray of porcelain and an overturned chair.

All her years of carta work seemed to unfurl themselves, spurring her body to act even as her brain reeled at the sight. She dashed across the floor, grateful for the carpet that prevented her feet from sliding, and dropped down beside the man on the floor. His chest still rose and fell, albeit erratically, so she wasn’t looking for a cause of death. There was also no visible blood on the floor or his clothing, so she could put stabbing lower on the list.

Eyes still open, but barely-- good. He hadn’t lost consciousness. Yet. No chance of his clothes strangling him with that wide neckline. Darvia reminded herself to say a prayer later thanking the Maker for the man’s vanity. His fair skin was flushed across the cheeks, with wisps of red-gold hair plastered to his forehead by sweat. Her fingers slid to his neck, finding a fast heartbeat.

Dilated eyes, rapid pulse, flushed skin, whatever weakness or dizziness threw him to the floor… she knew it had to be poison. The remains of the tray said likely ingested. She longed to investigate more, but dared not leave his side.

“BRAN!” she shouted, gathering up all of her breath into a bellow. “SENESCHAL BRAN!” The sound echoed off the cold stone walls. Maker, let him hear me, she begged silently.

“Must you yell?” a raspy voice came from below her. Darvia stared down at the man before her, a burst of hope swelling in her chest. “Some of us happen to have a headache.” A rough cough burst from his lips, shaking through his whole body.

“Headache!” Darvia replied with enthusiasm. “Dizziness? Weakness?”

“Do you think I’d be on the floor if the room wasn’t spinning, Carta?”

A faint smile crossed Darvia’s face. His jokes were just whistling in the dark, to be sure, but at least he had the presence of mind to joke in the first place. “Good to know, I might have thought this was the Viscount of Kirkwall’s idea of a good time,” she teased, but the humor felt forced as it left her lips. If it could just keep him conscious and talking though…

Helllloooooo! I know people are maybe tired/busy/unavailable today, so no pressure or anything, but I thought we could all share WIPs today?

Writing, art, whatever you want! (I’m gonna tag DA bc most people are here for that, but feel free to share no matter what you’re working on!)

I’ll post mine in a bit! Rb + add !

No pressure of course— have a great day! ☀️

[thehumancentickler]

Buddy the Elf tickle headcanons

Under the cut because I could not curb myself, like, at all kjhgfsdas

LEE

He loves to be tickled. Fuckin 👏 LOVES 👏 it 👏

He's the kind of lee who doesn't fight back. He just goes limp and lets it happen, as he's too busy laughing his heart out to even think about retaliating.

His best quality? His wiggles. A close second is him hugging himself when getting tickled instead of pushing your hands away. Come on man that's just so!! HDJSGSAGFSHS?!?! *grinds a slab of concrete between their teeth*.

"I just like to smile! Smiling's my favorite." D U D E 😭💕😭💕😭💕

He's used to getting dog piled on by the elves back at the North Pole and all of them tickling him, because it’s the only way that they can full on pin him down and get him.

Not that it was really necessary: a small jab behind his knees and he'll just come tumbling down like a chopped tree fhjdhjd.

Can't take what he dishes, so if you were to tell him about how cute he looks or how much you like his laughter, he'll turn in a flustered blushy mess in a matter of seconds and he'll deny everything you said in a choir of "NoHohohOh"s while hiding his face behind his hands.

Speaking of, that unbridled pitchy laughter of his man... Sweet and merry like the bells on Santa's sleigh. Contagious and absolutely adorable. Who said that.

Too ticklish for his own good and he'll be giggling up a storm before you even touch him.

Turns into a big hysterical squeaky toy when you go for his most sensitive areas.

Now that I mention it: while being a walking skipping ticklish spot, me thinks his worst spots are his ears, neck, ribs, tummy and feet, especially the top part (and that's canon babyyy).

He will ask for tickles, either by being a little shit on purpose or by straight up telling you (<- this kills the man. Hi, I'm the man).

Btw that feather on his hat? It's not only for decoration, if you get my hint.

Use it against him (especially on his ears and neck) and watch the poor guy split his sides like an overstuffed plush.

LER

Quite the interesting uh, elf-ism, is that tickling is their love language. Whether it's for bonding, cheering someone up or just to be playfully annoying, you're gonna get tickles and that's a promise AND a threat <3c

Most playful ler on earth istg. It's all about having fun and boy, he's the ruling champion (or CEO, ehhh? *nudge nudge*)

He'll turn anything into a tickle game. Playing hide and seek? If he finds you, you're getting tickled. Hogging the blankets? You're getting tickled. Cuddling in bed? Get tickled idiot cotton-headed ninny muggins. (affectionate)

The best way to spread the Christmas cheer is laughing out loud for all to hear ~

He's not much of a teaser, but he sure will compliment on your laugh, how cute you look, your smile... If he's got something nice to say he'll say it and trust me, that's enough of a tease imo fhdjfhdj

Watch out for his hugs. It's a trap. Also remember the feather on his hat? Yeah, rip o7

BIG fan of snuggly tickles! And snuggles in general, but honestly who isn't hfdjbffj

Shameless tickle fight instigator, he'll start them over literally everything. No ifs or buts, just tickles. But if you're lucky enough, he might announce it first: that's your cue to either start running or fight back.

Despite that, he's absolutely respectful of boundaries and he'll immediately stop if asked to and apologize.

Also, he's very good at giving aftercare. He'll fret if he went overboard, offering a cup of hot cocoa, hugs, a cozy blanket... but ideally all three.

[ask-elland-n-will]

[OOC rant about HL rp space here on tumblr: Wanted to mention this for a while but engagement requires... engagement. The more rp blogs exchange asks, the more pathways there are to communicate, to create a net of connections, make characters and the world around them come to life. Over the past year and a half I sent hundreds of asks, in anon/as me/as my characters. I understand being shy. I've been there, and it took some great people in this community to get me out of my shell.

But it is just what it is: unfortunately, if there is no reciprocity, there is no dialogue.

You don't have to wait for a green light/talk in DMs first with creating an rp scenario to send anyone an ask or to initiate rp by tagging someone. You can if it makes you more comfortable but don't have to. Most of us have Rules of Engagement but that's all the pre-requisites.

Before I burned out, I sent people asks just to make them happy, give some interactions for their characters. I wanted to find out more about MCs/OCs. But at this point (and I am not alone in this) whenever this turns into a one-sided communication, I am bothered by it, and I stop sending asks after a while.

I get that if I do it with anons, people won't know who to reply to. But even starting small, sending an ask or two for at least some rp people, so that we know you want to engage — it means a lot. It makes us want to continue playing in this HL sandbox.]

[severussnapeconfessions]

You know what? I’m a believer that severus uses cheesy lines with his partner just because he knows they sound dumb as fuck and gets them off guard each time💀

"Do you want to play a game tonight? To add some... Variety?" Severus asks silkily, hugging you from behind.

"Maybe?"

"We could play... Mona Lisa." He smirks after your silence and tunes down his tone dangerously. "You'll play Lisa and I'll make you moan. "

Both of you dissolve in a fit of laughter.

😭🤣 (this is not my joke)

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Dorian Pavus

[kavehater]

I’ll never understand younger siblings whining about their older siblings moving away like I bet yall were nasty and annoying too like wow all those years and you claim to adore the older sibling and post oh woe is me the older sibling abandoned me … girl … the older sibling didn’t have a parental certificate or anything.

[tsarjozinzbazin]

it has happened once again and arcane fans are invading league of legends playing their favourite arcane characters and just walking under enemy turrets

[whinlatter]

please talk about something subtle you've put in a story that you hope readers pick up on

Oh man, it was a mistake to ask me this. But I have been desperate to talk about Ginny's t-shirts in Orchards so - let's get into it 👕👚🌳🌿 (Thank you for asking and sorry I can't answer anything like a normal person.)

On Ginny's t-shirts... The slogan t-shirts Ginny wears in Orchards symbolise the dynamics between Ginny and all the people in her life in the summer of 1996, especially her relationship with Harry and the rest of the Weasley family. When Ginny wears a particular shirt, I wanted it to be both a wink to the reader about the arc of that summer - little flags for the plot and for shifting dynamics in characters' relationships - and also a way to smuggle in little headcanons about Ginny's relationships, often with her siblings (and a bonus one, for a surrogate sibling, if anyone spotted it - spoiler below the cut)

I always wondered, with all the Weasleys' secondhand clothing, what Ginny must wear. I loved the idea of her rotating her family members' old t-shirts, as a little love letter to each of them. (I like to think she has a Percy t-shirt somewhere - a t-shirt from some academic competition, no doubt - that she'll dust off and wear again after the war, when they've made their peace with each other.)

So here's a a truly deranged full breakdown of the significance of each of the t-shirts, which I've pulled from my mad writing notes document and share with anyone even a little bit interested, haaa. They're in the order they appear in Orchards, so you can hopefully see their place in the arc of the plot, and broken down by writing/plot and headcanons. Ok let's goooo! 🤸🏻‍♀️

T-shirt 1: Dragon-Tamers’ Guild, Class of 1994 (Relationship: Charlie) 🐉

Writing/plot: Ginny wears this in her opening scene, where Harry and Ron come up to demand she joins them in two-a-side Quidditch. T-shirt 1 had to be a Dragon Tamers' t-shirt, given Ginny's about to spend the summer taming one particularly grouchy dragon (Harry James Potter). And it had to be yellow, because this is Ginny's entrance, so it has to be bright bright bright, sunshine and summer and happy colours from the get-go.

Headcanon: Of course Charlie would give Ginny, the only other animal-lover of the Weasley household, a dragon-themed t-shirt. 1994 is also the year the Triwizard Tournament kicks off, and Charlie comes back to England that summer, so would be the perfect time to hand over a t-shirt to his little sister.

T-shirt 2: My Brothers Started a Joke Shop and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt (Relationship: Fred and George) 🤡

Writing/plot: Ginny wears this at breakfast early on in the fic (the structure of the fic loosely follows the time of day - it starts with breakfast, it will end with evening after sunset). I wanted this t-shirt to flag to the reader that a new phase of Harry and Ginny's relationship is about to kick off - they're about to enter their own comedic double-act era, à la the twins (and, like the twins, a lot of their jokes will be at Ron's expense).

Headcanon: This is definitely a new t-shirt. Fred and George will have given it to Ginny earlier that summer to wear to promote their products at school in the new academic year. The twins may not like that their sister is cool and getting a lot of attention these days, but they're determined to make a few galleons off of it.

T-shirt 3: The Weird Sisters t-shirt (Relationship: Tonks) 🎸

Writing/plot: This actually ended up as my favourite, completely by accident. I originally meant for this t-shirt to be Ginny's own, as a reference to the Weird Sisters poster Harry discovers on her wall in DH. Purple just seemed like a wizardy colour. Ginny wears it in this early flirty scene where Harry, for the first time, seeks her out alone, and comes up to her bedroom. Although he won't enter the room - it's important that that happens for the first time in DH - I liked the idea of her cracking the door open a little and wearing a t-shirt that teases hints of the room inside.

It was only when I was doing final edits and canon checks did I remember that Tonks wears a Weird Sisters t-shirt to pick Harry up at King's Cross at the end of OotP, and also that it's purple??! And then I remembered that great moment in OotP where Tonks turns her hair red, and Harry says she looks like Ginny's older sister. I love that scene. It's so full of early Harry/Ginny hints: Harry noticing more details about Ginny; Ginny, Tonks, and Sirius chatting and cheering Harry up, and Ginny and Tonks showing clear signs of bonding in a little sister/cool big sister way. I love that it ended up as an accidental nod to happy hints from an earlier time.

Canon details: Now I think of this t-shirt is a gift from Ginny's honorary, weird older sister. Tonks has definitely promised to take her to a Weird Sisters concert one day. As Ginny will also spend the summer wishing Bill was marrying Tonks instead, this t-shirt is therefore a subtle anti-Fleur protest.

T-shirt 4: Blank t-shirt (Relationship: Ron 1) 👕

Writing/plot: I wanted Harry to have started to notice Ginny's outfits to such an extent that the first time she wears a blank t-shirt, he's like - excuse you? But then Ginny suggests she'll write her own slogan on it later (‘I’ll write one on later. What do you think of Ron Weasley: Stop Bringing Shame on This Household?’) The t-shirt therefore becomes a way to tease Ron, but it also hints at the tensions in Ginny and Ron's relationship that will be partly resolved by a later t-shirt (Ron 2)

Headcanon: Ginny's clothes are mostly secondhand. But she's also the only girl, and increasingly looks very physically different to her brothers, so when her mum does buy her clothes of her own, they're cheap and non-descript, probably from a multipack.

T-shirt 5: IKEA t-shirt (Relationship: Arthur) 🏡

Writing/plot: Ginny wears this in a scene where Harry and Ron are both watching Ginny and Hermione like dorks. Though they don't know it, both couples are slowly starting to build something, just like you build IKEA furniture (slowly, agonisingly, with no clear instructions and lots of tears/tantrums).

Headcanon: Arthur Weasley definitely has heard of IKEA and longs for the day he, too, can push a trolley around a big Muggle furniture warehouse with a little pencil and tuck into some meatballs in the cafe. A Muggle-born friend definitely gave him this t-shirt knowing he'd be thrilled, and he has passed it onto his daughter who also, secretly, shares his love of all things Muggle.

T-shirt 6: Witch Weekly’s Knitter of the Year Finalist 1984 (Relationship: Molly) 🧶

Writing/plot: Ginny wears this in a scene where she is making her mother tear her hair out over her lack of interest in being a prefect/behaving herself at school, and she and Harry team up as a comedy duo again. I liked the idea of Ginny both wearing her mother's t-shirt while she drives her to distraction, showing all the ways Molly sees herself in her daughter and projects some of her own worries onto her. I also wanted to suggest the idea of Harry and Ginny working together like two knitting needles, colluding to wind up Mrs Weasley. (Molly also spends this scene beating some dough into a pulp on the counter top, and fighting a losing battle there, too).

Headcanon: In 1984, Molly and Arthur had five children under the age of ten running around, squabbling and generally tearing each other apart around the Burrow. Bill and Charlie will have gone to school, and probably have received first batch of Weasley jumpers. I like the idea that Molly took up knitting when pregnant in the late seventies/ early eighties. By the mid-80s knitting is less of a creative outlet and more a slightly manic, neurotic and cheap way of reusing old wool to make new clothes for growing children (and also to take her frustration out on some wool by spearing stitches with sharp needles).

T-shirt 7: Gringotts Curse Breakers' Team-Building Day, May 1993 (The Hardest Curse to Break is a Bad Attitude!) (Relationship: Bill) 🔑

Writing/plot: Ginny wears this in a scene where she's trying to get the trio to lighten up and joke around with her (she's our little bad-attitude breaker). This is another favourite of the t-shirts and I would pay a lot of money for a workplace comedy fic about Bill at this away day.

Headcanon: This is one of those t-shirts you get given at an event and never really want to hold onto (I imagine a team-building day involving grumpy goblins was not a day Bill remembers fondly). But he has seen Ginny has a t-shirt from all her other brothers. The small, petty part of him that always wants his little sister to revere him wants to make sure she has one from him, too.

T-shirt 8: The Chudley Cannons jumper (Relationship: Ron 2) 🧹

Writing/plot: At her birthday dinner, Ron lends Ginny his favourite Chudley Cannons jumper when she starts to get chilly in the evening. Ron and Ginny's relationship won't be fixed completely by the end of the summer - in fact, they're about to go to school, where it'll get a whole lot worse. But this gesture holds out the promise to the reader that things will be alright between them again, that they're going into this new school year with a base level of deep love and affection for each other. Ever the over-protective big brother, Ron will not let his sister be cold on his watch.

Headcanon: It broke Ron's heart when Ginny picked the Holyhead Harpies as her team - she used to support the Cannons with Ron, but picked the Harpies out of spite the first year Ron went away to Hogwarts and she was left at home alone. Seeing his sister wear the Cannons jumper again makes him really happy.

T-shirt 9: Discarded t-shirt (Relationship: Harry) ❣️

Writing/plot: The fic ends with this suggestive, hopeful scene from summer '98, where Harry wakes up on the right side of Ginny's bedroom door for a change, and wonders where the t-shirt she wore the night before has ended up. He spent the summer of '96 inspecting her t-shirts, and then, somewhere along the way, he finally realised he's actually much more interested in what's underneath Ginny's t-shirts. Two years and a whole war later, the reader is reassured to know that Harry James Potter finally gets to take Ginny Weasley's t-shirt off, at long last.

Headcanon: (It's definitely one of Harry's t-shirts).

[guinevereslancelot]

not to be ungrateful but i don't get paid enough at my job lol

[emotionalsupportgoblin420]

Doing a Pokémon Y Nuzlock. Wish me luck! I'll keep everyone updated

[the-way-astray]

i must be the only (kind of) unironic aldella shipper in this entire fandom . . .

[kradogsrats]

my brain: hey. hey, open a new doc.

me: what? why? I've got like 3 WIPs already that's plenty

my brain: look you've been writing all this introspective, people have big feelings and talk about them with healthy communication shit, it's gross

me: I actually thought it was pretty good...

my brain: yeah well this is an intervention: I'm going on strike until you write this human furniture porn, have fun

[cantarella]

hsr yanqing is still one of the wildest cases of honkai counterparts like do you remember that guy from the 7 swords visual novel that nobody likes bc he's awful? no bc we don't promote, translate or update it? ok what if he was a teen now and we gave him a well adjusted dad so he doesn't grow up to suck shit