#in limited color and him being like ‘oh yeah I’ve been working on that for years now I’m not done w it’

[samuraisharkie]

why is Ronnie Williford so bland at speaking 😭😭😭 I want to take these classes but he speaks in such a way that just does not engage me

#it’s typical for the type of video classes he’s doing but man. I’m bored LOL #and I shouldn’t be there’s stuff to do it’s just happening so slowly #I wish I could take another class w Wayman Brown at ACC #he was another old guy w a quiet voice but he had a push in his speech that made you excited to draw #he also just had cool fucking art #I’ll never get over how breathtaking it was to come in to a gigantic 6 foot canvas w a morning market street depicted #in limited color and him being like ‘oh yeah I’ve been working on that for years now I’m not done w it’ #DUDE it looked like something I’d see in an art museum it was extremely cool #he also took photos and let us draw images based off of some of them for reference #idk if he reaches there anymore though I couldn’t find him in the website #*teaches #I have very nice notes of his class but I also type slowly so that’s making this longer bc I have to take notes and then draw #Ronnie’s class specifically

[killemwithkawaii]

Hello! I’ve been reading your stuff for almost a year now, and idk if your taking requests rn but do you think I could get headcannons of yan!Sal being your best friend and what that would consist of? If your able to of course. Also I love all of your work! I always come back to read it!

Aw yeah, gotta love some platonic yan~ 💖

Sal as your Yandere Best Friend (forever and ever and ever)-

[CW: Yandere, obsessive behavior, borderline stalking, self-sacrifice, emotional manipulation]

>Sal is extremely sociable and gets attached to people quickly. He’s likely to be the one to introduce himself to you and invites you to hang out with him and his other friends almost immediately. Once you guys click, you go from casual acquaintances to ride-or-die overnight. You’re pretty much stuck with him after that (he doesn’t take friendship lightly!) 🤝💙

>Constantly wants to hang around you, even if you’re not doing anything in particular, invites you along to pretty much everything, and shows up at your place unannounced for impromptu bro time. He just really enjoys your company! Because he's constantly asking what you're doing when he's not there, he knows your schedule and where you are pretty much at all times. He would feel very left out if you mention that you did something fun or important without him. (He covers it up well, ‘Oh, I’m glad you had fun! That sounds awesome, I’ll have to try that out/ go there sometime…’ but you can tell by his mood change that he’s upset about not being included 😞)

>Incredibly generous, always willing to do favors for you without expecting more than a ‘thank you’ in return, and is happy to go out of his way to help or please you. He will literally give you the shirt off his back, if it seems like you’re in need of it. After all, what are friends for? (He of course has his limitations, but you’d have to make some pretty preposterous requests for him to deny you something.) 🙇‍♂️

>Wants to do everything that you do. Take the same classes, join the same clubs, have the same hobbies, listen to the same music, and live in the same house as you, if he can manage it... He wants to appreciate what you’re all about, really get to know you on an intimate level and know who you are at your core. Doing all the same things is a great way to do that and an excellent way to spend more time with you, especially if he can get you to teach him a new skill or you both learn something new together. 🎨📸📚

>Very physically affectionate. He’s always down for a hug and likes to stay within close proximity (almost zero personal bubble, unless you make it very clear you need some space, which he will do his best to respect). He’s not keen on strangers getting to close to either of you, but you guys might as well be conjoined at the hip. 🤗

>Is quick to be your scapegoat and come to your defense. He’s great at lying and coming up with excuses to get the both of you out of trouble (or just get what you want), will always politely yet firmly speak up when you’re slighted, and he never lets anybody get away with being a jerk to you. Sal can be absolutely scathing when the situation calls for it! Assholes get roasted on the spot if they dare to mess with his BFF. (Be aware: He can take a punch, but he’s not much of a fighter, despite his willingness to get into physical danger for you. Don’t let things get too heated or you’ll have to help patch him up later.) 🩹

>Texts you often and at all times of the day because of his insomnia. If something reminds him of you, you’ll know about it. 💬

>Highly sentimental. He keeps receipts, tickets, photos, and other small mementos from the times you’ve hung out together and talks about those memories with a deep, rose-colored fondness.  🎫💭

>Always wants you to talk about your feelings (sometimes to the point of prying), loves it when you tell him your secrets, and plays therapist for you all the time. He delights in lending an ear when you want to vent and when he gets you to spill all those juicy personal details, especially the ones you haven’t really told anybody else about before. Letting him know those things about you means that you trust him enough to be vulnerable and that you two have a really strong bond. He’ll always be there for you, no matter what! ♾💙

#k.e.w.k. answers #k.e.w.k. writes #sally face #sally face imagine #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x y/n #love sick sally #tw yandere #tw stalking #tw obsessive behavior #tw emotional manipulation #platonic yandere #yandere sal fisher #thank you for the kind words! Glad you like my content and I hope you enjoy these hcs~ 🥰

[giggly-squiggily]

Hey there! I’m back yet again with more scarvio headcannons for your event! I recently started replaying the game and have so many thoughts but! I’ll keep it limited lol. I’m getting kinda close to the end of starfall street and have decided that despite his bratiness Ortega definitely has a super sweet and soft side! Wether this is canon or not I’m not sure (it’s been awhile since I’ve done the story and don’t remember) but I still think it’s a nice concept! And if possible can you do a reader insert? (platonic please!) if you don’t feel like it it’s all good, I know I send in a lot of reader stuff and it can probably get boring after awhile. I’m just a huge sucker for self insert stuff lol. Thanks in advance and I hope you’re doing well!!! -⚡️

{Headcanons to Dabbles: CLOSED!}

ORTEGA!!! Oh man- I freaking love him! While not my favorite of the Starfall crew (admittedly I don't have a favorite as I love them all so much Atticus) I adore him with my entire heart and soul! This was a joy to write for you friend! I've gotcha covered! :D (And don't ever worry about your requests/headcanons being boring! On the contrary I think they're freaking awesome! You always give me the best characters to write for!)

Ortega was…a lot.

Mechanically speaking, he was brilliant- his hands were golden as they turned simple shapes into incredible machinery for Team Starfall to use in battle. He was meticulous, thorough, and still somehow remained ridiculously cute smudged in motor oil.

“Careful, you klutz!”

He was also a bit of a brat. Okay- a full brat.

“Sorry.” You stepped back from the table, admiring the various trinkets and do-hickies across the cloth. “And I’m not a klutz! That was one time!”

“One time falling into my tool setup, two times spilling pink paint everywhere, another time dropping water all over yourself and- how many times have you stumbled and flopped on your butt?” He sent a cheeky grin over his shoulder at you, hands deep within the wiring of the starmobile. He laughed when you pouted, mildly vexed.

“Whatever.” You flopped into the nearest seat, sinking further in your chair as his soft titters carried on. What were you expecting?

Some time passed when he called out again. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?”

“The desk beside you, could you open the second drawer?” When you glared, he sighed. “Please?”

“....Fine.” You did as told only to pause. Among the various screwdrivers and extra wiring sat…

“Yeah, it’s just some whatever piece I was tinkering with. Not much to look at, but I guess you can have it if you want.” He folded his arms with a huff as you carefully pulled out the statue, shaped into a glorious portrayal of your go-to pokemon. Despite his claims, the craft was clearly handled with care- the edges smooth and flawless and the effects of the Pokemon’s typing visible with brightly colored resin. Your go-to was posed in an incredible way- badass and powerful and truly amazing.

“Ortega…did you make this for me?” You asked, looking over to find him having returned to his work. You might have been hallucinating, but you couldn’t help but note the growing flush against the back of his neck.

“Pfft- please. Like I said, I was tinkering. But…if you really like it-”

“I love it!” You cried, heart racing as you looked at the various angles. “I adore it! Thank you so much!”

“L-Like I said- it’s only a tinker!” Ortega fussed, neck coloring more as the blush spread to his ears. “But…yeah, I’m glad you love it.”

You grinned at him one more time before carefully placing the statue on the desk, leaning into your arms as you gazed upon its beautiful form.

Ortega might have been a brat, but when the softer parts come out; it makes it all worth it.

#headcanons to dabbles #dabble #ortega #reader insert #ortega x platonic!reader #fluff #It's one of Pokemon's many tsunderes! #We love to see it :3 #I hope you like it! #pokemon #scarlet and violet

[another-dra-anew]

koba!!!

lying on the floor. im so normal about him im so normal about him im so-

- My identity hc for them

tbh! i go back and forth on whether i view him as gay or bi. so. hm. uhh canonically likes guys, and i don’t really have any consistent thoughts past that! + canonically a trans guy. my boy fits the “can’t go out without wearing 4+ layers” stereotype… rip.

  - Thoughts on their home life/family

hmm. what’s something we won’t cover in canon- OH. so, he has two older sisters, and  his maternal grandparents had three kids- two girls, and a boy, with the boy being the oldest (koba mom (yuriko) is their youngest child). so koba and his siblings are a mirror reflection of their mom and her siblings. also, her mom has a very dear friend she’s been close with for forever, and is also close with his wife now. koba considers their children to be his cousins- this is why he has some french knowledge, they live in france! has one cousin who he especially likes, a lass a few years older than him.

- How i feel about their canonical writing/handling

i feeeel… like he can feel a bit one note/flat? but.. i think completing his ftes will show a sort of depth to him that comes through in the main game, if you know it’s there. (also some of his feeling flat does come from me boyfailing in the past when it comes to writing. so.)

- The one thing i’d want to make canon about them

hm. less so something i want to make canon, moreso… something i hope people pick up on? my boy is constantly trying so hard to protect his peace. the only reason he comes across as okay as he does is because maeda only sees him at breakfast and dinner, and maeda is kinda a dunce, so he hasn’t noticed that kobashikawa is connnstantly self soothing. again. maeda is our protag and oh how that limits things. but- OH. holiday event, the start of harus arc. the way he tries to console himself, but then just distracts himself until things go away? yeaaah.

- My number one favorite ship for them

….so. you see i should say otohiko. i should. they’re iconic they’re the moment i do genuinely really love them. but i’ve had such bad kobamae brainrot…

- …Now everyone else i ship with them

kisaragi! cuz kobas huge on building planes, and kisa is a inventor. i think they’d have fun working together!! parallel play :]. also koba has a fwend he knew for like.. a year? in elementary school. who also attends hopes peak! that year of school was Really Rough on koba, so he kinda. just isn’t as eager to reconnect? bc of poor associations. but fwend is… maybe he doesn’t quite understand, but he’s trying! and he has a very good heart. so i don’t really ship them but sometimes i see stuff that makes me go “oh… it’s them 🥺” so. ya know!!

- The thing i will NEVER ship

no “enemies to lovers” with him and higa don’t even try to slide that shit by. that’s a bigot x the person he hate crimed. (i do think while koba wouldn’t ever be *friends* with higa, they could be acquaintances. he wants an apology he 100% wants an apology he’s not going to stop giving higa hell (in non despair) until he gets an apology. but yeah i just. i don’t think they’re compatible i don’t think they’d mesh well and i just. why would u do koba like that ?

- a dynamic/relationship i wish was explored more (in canon, or in fandom)

not to say iranami again. but they were besties in the first iterations of beta so it’s a fun little throwback for me!! i also think abt him and tsu in non despair a lot. i think they kinda… tend to run in different circles a lot? but they occasionally seek out each other specifically. cuz they’re friends!! they just don’t really have the same friend group. overall i think koba is p popular/well liked! so like… should chat more abt him and everyone

- thoughts on their design (appearance-wise)

mmm.. i’m actually redesigning his fit rn but i think his general color palette is a vibe!! it’s been consistent since betas inception and has stayed the same. i kinda tend to give up on his fit cuz it never works with me,, but surely this time it will all work out for me… yes…..

- A music-related thought- a song that reminds me of them, or what their music taste is, etc

uhhhhh. like or like like - miniature tigers. specifically the chorus/“do you like or like like me? juuuuust sayyyy youu do…” gives me him vibes. i think he tends to make people go 👀 at him so if he was ever uncertain if someone liked him back he wouldn’t really be able to deal with it well? like or like like works because the phrase is a more light hearted/less serious way of seeing if someone feels the same, but it’s also like… again that line is accurate to what koba would want- for that person to just say they like him (tho, while that’s what he’d want to ask of them, if they actually just said yes bc he asked. he’d be v upset)

the king - conan gray, is similarly kobashikawa trying to Cope if the one time he wants someone, it doesn’t come easy to him. this song is one i have down for both him and otori lol. the only exception - paramore, is also very much so a them song. theres probably other songs i associate with him that i’m forgetting about but he’s being spoiled rn compared to the other kids. so.

#kobashikawa haruhiko #ask meme

[kyuuppi]

“You lie to your best friend/crush that you have an OnlyFans just to see their reaction”

Ft. Sugawara; Nishinoya; Tsukishima; Oikawa; Kenma

Pt. 2

A/N: My bias is so obvious here LOL

KARASUNO

↳ Sugawara

➣  You are over at his house, the two of you idly watching a sitcom while browsing your phones and chatting in between; it’s comfortable, as times with Sugawara usually are.

➣  Every time Suga leans in to show you a funny meme on his phone or throws his head back in laughter at a joke from the show, you find your heart skipping a beat.

➣  He is beautiful, basically an angel in your eyes, but he is also your best friend and you don’t think he has any interest in you like that. Not in the way you do. 

➣  That’s how you get the idea to test his feelings. 

➣  Being the troublemaker you are (how else would you and Suga get along so well?) you decide to shake things up by casually mentioning you’re interested in starting an OnlyFans and asking if he thinks its a good idea. 

➣  You expect either of two reactions: either he’ll be as supportive as usual, possibly advising you to be cautious with strangers online like the mother hen he is, proving he only sees you as a friend—or he’ll tell you not to, possible evidence that likes you.

➣  The response you receive is not quite what you were expecting...

➣  Once the words leave your lips his head immediately whips around in your direction, light brown eyes looking at you with a serious expression on his face, something you’d never really seen before. It makes you uncomfortable and you begin to regret all of your life decisions.

➣  Suddenly though, he is leaning into you, his arms coming up to trap you against the couch as you try to back away. Your eyes are as wide as saucers and face completely flushed as he continues to stare you down before speaking.

➣  “Even though I’m your best friend, I’m still a man, you know. You’re being awfully cruel right now.”

➣ You audibly gulp, suddenly feeling light-headed but he keeps speaking, close enough that you can feel his hot breath fan across your cheeks.

➣ “Asking me to watch the person I like show off in front of thousands of other men? Even I have my limits.”

➣ And that marks the day of you and Sugawara’s first kiss. ♡

↳ Nishinoya

➣  Your best friend, Nishinoya Yuu, is notoriously unabashed with his affections. 

➣ The two of you have an interesting relationship—Noya has no qualms with expressing how pretty he thinks you are, borderline flirting with you at times, and you frequently return the favor. 

➣  But you don’t take any of it seriously, of course, regardless of how much you secretly wish it were real. Everyone at Karasuno knows about Noya’s undying dedication to the volleyball club manager, Shimizu Kiyoko, and he confesses his love to her at least twice a day. 

➣ Unbeknownst to you those professions became less and less frequent after he met you and now most of Karasuno thinks the two of you are basically dating

➣ The two of you are at the mall, a frequent hang out place where Noya can look at volleyball gear and you can browse manga at the bookstore, when you get the idea to prank your friend.

➣ “Hey, Noya? I’ve been thinking about finding a way to make more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so I decided to make an OnlyFans—I already have a few subscribers.”

➣ Nishinoya nearly trips and falls flat on his face. You would have laughed if it weren’t for how he immediately grabs at your shoulders, staring at you with a mix of anger and fear. 

➣ “Absolutely not! No one should be allowed to see your beautiful body like that but me!”

➣ You immediately fluster at his loud declaration, acutely aware of how other customers in the mall are giving the two of your strange looks as they walk by. 

➣ “B-but Noya, we aren’t even dating—”

➣ “Then let’s start dating!” 

➣ And what are you gonna do? Say no?

↳ Tsukishima

➣ Being friends with Tsukishima could be frustrating at times—a sentiment you and Yamaguchi frequently discuss when the blond isn’t around. 

➣ Tsukishima likes to think most things are beneath him and he’s too cool to find enjoyment in activities most other friends enjoy, ranging from mini golf to video games. The man seems content to waste his life away studying and listening to music if it weren’t for you and Yamaguchi forcing him out of his room. 

➣ Naturally, something like a prank war would be something Tsukishima would want no part of—not that that has ever stopped you. 

➣ Usually, your pranks are failures. Either Tsukishima easily figures out what you’re doing before it can happen or he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of a reaction, chastising you for wasting your time pulling pranks when you have a failing grade in mathematics you’ll later beg him to help you study for.

➣ He still helps you though, he’s whipped

➣ Your newest prank however, you feel exceptionally confident in. Not only is it simple to pull off, only relying on your acting kills, but it also might answer your curiosity on whether you have a chance in getting your dearest Tsukki to see you as more than just a friend.

➣ The day you decide to do it the three of you are hanging out in Tsukishima’s bedroom as usual, you working on the math homework Tsukishima forced you to study while he reads a book and Yamaguchi sits in the corner reading a book.

➣ You had already discussed your plans with Yama beforehand, to which his expression looked suspiciously devious, like he knew something you didn’t know, as he proclaimed his support. 

➣ You hear Tsukishima turning a page and decide to speak up. 

➣ “Hey, Tsukki, have you heard of OnlyFans?”

➣ You hold back a snicker as you see Tsukishima visibly tense, his eyes widening behind his glasses for a moment before he relaxes. From the corner of your eyes you can see Yamaguchi smirking behind his comic, watching the blond closely. 

➣ “...yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Tsukishima simply replies. 

➣ “I’ve been thinking about making more money but I don’t have time for a part-time job so my friend suggested it. She said I could make over ten thousand yen a month.”

➣ “I think only the really attractive ones make that much.”

➣ You gasp, thoroughly offended, and Yamaguchi looks mildly annoyed by his friend’s response, already opening his mouth to chastise him for being so mean—but before he can say anything, Tsukishima is speaking again, still looking down at the book in his lap. 

➣ “Don’t do it though.” 

➣ “Why not?” You pout, refusing to look up at him when you speak. 

➣ “...I don’t want the person I like to do those types of things.” 

➣ You nearly choke on your own saliva, head darting up to stare at him in disbelief. Yamaguchi, for some reason, only smiles softly, looking unsurprised by the admission. 

➣ “W-what? You...like me?”

➣ “Oi, shouldn’t you be studying? One more F and you’re gonna flunk out of the class, dummy.”

➣ You’re slightly disappointed by the change of subject but when you notice the soft pink on Tsukishima’s cheeks you can’t help but to smile the whole time you finish your homework.

AOBA JOUSAI

↳ Oikawa

➣ Oikawa is a busy guy.

➣ You were well aware of that before the two of you happened to be paired up for an assignment and got to know each other, eventually becoming close friends. 

➣ Between volleyball practices, tournaments, magazine interviews, and appeasing a passionate fan club, Oikawa rarely has time for himself, let alone another person. 

➣ Despite all of that, you could tell he always made sure to spend time with you, dedicating a few weekends a month to hanging out, just the two of you, and constantly texting you in the times the two of you couldn’t physically be together. 

➣ From an outsider’s perspective, it was almost like the two of you were dating. 

➣ But alas, you know the sad reality is that Oikawa is most certainly not your boyfriend and you have no idea if he has any interest in your like that…

➣ ...Which is why you decide to try to make him jealous one day to push him towards confessing his feelings, if they exist. 

➣ The two of you are at a café, sipping lattes and gossiping about other students when you bring it up. 

➣ “Y’know...I’ve been thinking of making an OnlyFans.”

➣ To your surprise, Oikawa’s eyes seem to light up, his lips curving into a smile of excitement. 

➣ “Wow, really? Maybe I should make one too!”

➣ Oikawa immediately pulls out his cell phone and the color drains from your face as you realize your plan has completely backfired. 

➣ “My fans are going to love this—hey do you think we can do a collab? The two of us in one pic would make us top creators for sure.”

➣ You can only nod numbly with a fake smile at Oikawa’s enthusiasm.

➣ Oh god, you’ve created a monster…

NEKOMA

↳ Kozume

➣ Unless you’re Kuroo, becoming friends with Kenma is a nearly impossible feat. Actually making him want to spend time with you alone, even more so. 

➣ But somehow, you managed to work your way into Kenma’s tightly knit social circle more like a two point line segment of him and Kuroo and your evenings after his volleyball practice are usually spent in one of your bedrooms, playing Splatoon and Animal Crossing until your Switches die or your parents force you to come home for dinner—whichever comes first. 

➣ You love spending time with Kenma, his quiet presence somehow making you feel comfortable—but over time those feelings of ease have shifted into something more akin to nervousness and excitement as you’ve come to develop a crush on the setter.

➣ Every moment with him, watching the small smiles tug at his lips when he wins a match or his cute, frustrated pout when he can’t figure out how to defeat a boss makes your heart flutter and it’s becoming more and more painful to idly sit by without expressing your feelings.

➣ A direct confession, especially to a boy with nearly 0 social skills, is scary, so you want to be sure your feelings are returned before you even attempt to share them. 

➣ Thus, you’ve decided to take Kuroo’s advice.

➣ “Push him into a corner. Kenma will only act when he thinks he has to.” 

➣ You take a deep breath to steel your nerves before you speak, eying him sneakily from behind your Switch. 

➣ “Gamer girls and boys are kind of trendy these days; I’m thinking about starting an OnlyFans to make money to buy more games.”

➣ The only visible response you receive is a slow blink as Kenma continues to play his game, fingers tapping furiously on the keys. 

➣ “Ah...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

➣ “Why not?”

➣ There are a few moments of silence between you two, the room only filled with the SFX of your games as Kenma seems to finish his round. You recognize the victory music as Kenma pauses to finally raise his gaze to meet your own. 

➣ “It's your body so I can’t tell you what to do but...I would feel really jealous of all your subscribers.”

➣ And just like that, Kenma returns his attention to the video game, unpausing and starting a new match, blissfully unaware of you struggling to calm your racing heart and flushed cheeks. 

#haikyuu #sugawara koushi #nishinoya yuu #tsukishima kei #oikawa tooru #kozume kenma #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #karasuno #aoba johsai #nekoma #sugawara x reader #nishinoya x reader #tsukishima x reader #oikawa x reader #kenma x reader #sugawara hcs #nishinoya hcs #tsukishima hcs #oikawa hcs #kenma hcs #haikyuu hcs

[solemnly-mischievous]

Could pls you write something where the marauders and you are taking about your safe word and boundaries?!

Thanks! <33

hell yeah! remember kids, if you're gonna engage in Practices of Dominant and Submissive Dynamics, these talks are always very important and essential and good. consent is sexy. stay safe. all that.

also, i'd never claim to be an expert on the topics they talk about - if i get anything off or word anything poorly, do tell me and i'll amend that.

anyway also the things they put on their hard limit list are not off the table for future fics, so keep that in mind :)

Contains: Fluff, discussion of bodily fluids & cnc, mentions of degradation and praise

Word count: 1.5K

------

It's about one AM in the Gryffindor common room, and all your housemates are asleep—the only sound you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the sound of pages turning as Remus flips through his book.

You're laying in Remus' lap, his fingers combing absentmindedly through your hair and massaging your scalp. It feels so good.

"Oi—watch the cakes—"

"You watch your stupid feet, Prongs, you're stepping on my cloak—"

"—I swear to god if you drop the pumpkin juice, I'll throw you and your bloody cloak into the fire—"

"Merlin, James, shut up, you're so loud—"

You hear Remus huff a soft laugh and you smile along: Your boyfriends are many things, but stealthy and discreet are not one of them. One would think the infamous pranksters of Hogwarts would be better at sneaking around in the dead of night—but then again, who needs to be light on their feet when there are charms and Invisibility Cloaks?

James and Sirius enter the common room as quietly as they can manage—which is to say, not that quiet at all—each bearing a large plate full of midnight snacks and drinks they've retrieved from the kitchen. (The house elves are always more than happy to see them.)

"Aw, look at them," Sirius murmurs to James, and he nods, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you and Remus. It's certainly a heartwarming scene, and you'd be content to stay there forever, but something's missing.

"C'mere," you whisper to the boys, holding your arms out and making grabby hands. "Cuddle."

They're more than happy to oblige, setting the plates on the table in front of the couches and piling on, Sirius leaning against Remus' shoulder and James sitting on the floor in front of you and Remus. You reach out and tug at his curls affectionately—he leans into the touch.

"We brought you your favorite chocolate cakes," James murmurs to you. "The elves made more just for you—even they know you love them. Oh, and Remus—there's pumpkin juice for you."

"Thank you," Remus says warmly, ruffling James' hair as he reaches by to grab a goblet. "Did you say hi to the elves for me?"

"Yeah," Sirius says, "they miss you and they're going to file for divorce if you don't visit them soon."

"Divorce? From all of them?" Remus' tone is laughing. "I don't think I could handle the legal fees."

"Who'd get custody?" you wonder.

"Besides, Moony knows he's married to us, if not legally but in spirit. When you think about it, Moony's a homewrecker," James jokes, and Sirius cackles in delight.

Your eyelids droop as Remus scratches along your scalp lightly, and Sirius catches you. "Hey, hey, wait, we're not sleeping yet. We have things to talk about."

"Talk about them faster," you mumble, and James laughs.

"Alright, alright," Remus says amiably. "We'll make it fast so you can get to sleep soon, alright? But you're gonna need to be coherent and awake right now, okay?"

"Fine," you whine, and you ease into a sitting position so you aren't tempted to fall asleep right there.

"Good girl," Sirius murmurs, and you shiver involuntarily.

"Okay, none of that right now—clear heads, all of us," Remus says. He looks at you and gives you a small smile. "There'll be plenty of time for that later."

"So how do we start?" Sirius asks. "Do we just... talk about what works, what doesn't?"

"I think we should start with the safeword." Remus hums thoughtfully. "You guys know the stoplight system?"

You and James shake your heads; Sirius nods.

"Green for go on, yellow for slow down, red for stop," Remus explains. "It's important to check in consistently, so we can be sure everything's alright."

"Wait, so yellow is..." You trail off.

"Yellow is, er, we don't need to stop, but I'm not one hundred percent comfortable or confident in what we're doing right now, so can we slow down and talk about it or change what we're doing?" Sirius explains, and you nod.

"Ah." You think about it. "Right, yeah, I think the stoplight system sounds fine."

"Same," James says, and Sirius voices his agreement.

In all your time at Hogwarts, the early years especially, never in a million years would you have thought you'd be here right now—in a polyamorous relationship with the troublemakers of the grade, discussing safewords and kink negotiations.

But what's life without a few surprises?

"We can all use the colors," Remus adds, "even if we're not the one subbing. Anyone can check in at anytime. Okay?"

Once that's been established, he pushes forward with, "Okay, so nitty-gritty: What are our boundaries? What do we not want to touch with a ten-foot pole?"

"No bodily fluids," James puts forth, "except for, well, you know. Just spit and come, I think. No blood or piss or anything like that."

You nod. "I don't wanna draw blood. Pain is okay, like bruises and bitemarks or the like, but I don't know about actual... wounds and stuff. For now, at least."

Remus nods. "Absolutely."

"Oh," Sirius says, looking vaguely bashful—which is a sight, because the Sirius Black, looking shy? "Um. I like to dom, right? Like usually, I do. But when I switch and sub, er, I don't like to be degraded. I love doing the degrading, but I don't know about being the degraded one."

Knowing Sirius' past, you understand completely. The rest of the Marauders nod as well, and James shifts towards Sirius, leaning against his leg in a comforting gesture. Sirius smiles at him, soft and affectionate.

"How about you, Moony?" you ask Remus.

"Hm." He thinks about it for a second. "I don't think I would want to do consensual non-consent."

"What's that?" James pokes at Remus' leg.

"Like, when you agree beforehand that a scene is going to be... Non-consensual. Usually, it's so the sub can pretend to struggle and protest and fight back and such. It's a fantasy, kinda like a coping mechanism, and I get it, and I respect people who do like it, but I don't think it's for me."

"So, all in all," Sirius summarizes, "No bodily fluids, no blood, no forced fantasies."

"Sums it up about right," James agrees. "And no degradation for when you're subbing."

"Yep."

"If at any time we think of something that we want to add to the hard-limit list," Remus says, "just say it. Even if it's the middle of a scene or anything, consider this a priority."

Sounds of agreement and understand come from the three of you.

"Also, just for a semi-reference," Sirius says, "I'm a switch, with a lean for being dominant. Remus is... I think, just dominant?"

Remus inclines his head. "I've never had the urge to sub, yet. Again, things might change."

Personally, you thought the idea of Remus on his knees, begging for the three of you, was very appealing, but that's up to Remus to decide.

"I'm also a switch, but I don't know if I have a lean," James pipes up. "I enjoy both equally, it just kind of depends on the moment."

Sirius nods, then looks at you. You're in the middle of leaning over James' head to nab a chocolate cake from the platter—the epitome of grace and dignity.

"I'm a switch," you say, chocolate cake in hand, "with a submissive lean. Like, I think... I think one day, I'd like to try to dom. Maybe. But usually I'm more than happy to sub."

"What a well-balanced group we are," James comments, and Remus snickers.

You yawn right on cue, and Sirius laughs. "Getting too tired, are we?"

"Yeah, but! I was absolutely clearheaded through all that. Fully concentrated. No distractions."

James eyes your chocolate cake.

"One distraction."

"I suppose we can talk about other things another night," Remus says, as your eyelids flutter again with tiredness.

"Other things?" James asks.

"Yeah. Specific kinks, stuff we'd like to try. Rules, corresponding punishments..." The werewolf winks at you. "Rewards."

"I like rewards," you murmur sleepily.

"For another night," Sirius agrees, yawning as well. He looks sadly at the two plates of goodies stacked on the table. "We got all that food for nothing."

"Nah, we can bring it back up to our dorm and charm it so it doesn't go bad," James says. "No worries."

"Right, right. Alright, you grab one plate, Remus grabs the other, I'll take her back up."

"Hey, why do you get to take her?"

"Because I said it first," Sirius maintains, like the dignified adult he is, and scoops you up before any of the other Marauders can protest.

You fall asleep that night on James' bed, in his warm embrace and surrounding by the calming sounds of your boyfriends' steady breathing. All in all, it hasn't been a bad night at all.

#marauders #marauders era #harry potter #hp #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin imagine #sirius black imagine #james potter imagine #marauders imagine

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Hades

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades

Lucifer

Well… this is awkward…

He’s actually met Hades multiple times for business reasons (Underworld-Devildom relations are amiable if not a little odd. Hades was something of an uncle figure to Diavolo as a wee demon lad, which should speak for itself really). He’s a gloomy fellow and not much for chit-chat, but he never thought they’d end up taking one of his kids by accident…

He had to send a formal apology letter to the Lord of the Underworld immediately, but thankfully he didn’t seem very concerned for his offspring - if anything he appeared to think the Devildom would suit them nicely which was… concerning.

And he was not wrong. The darkness, demons, ghouls, and frights of the Devildom hardly seemed to faze the MC, if anything they fit right in. He’d dare say they were thriving if not for one thing…

They were So. Damn. Bleak.

Getting a smile out of this one AT ALL was rare. For once he felt the need to check up on someone constantly just to be sure they were alright... They’d keep assuring the House that they’re not actually as sad as they look but it’s hard not to assume…

He was a little mortified at first when they first met Cerberus cause… well they called him “Cerbi” and the massive demonic guard dog rolled over for them like a Golden Retriever! 

Apparently he and the Cerberus that they knew are from the same litter and they must have smelt familiar... He would have probably limited their interactions just to keep his dog on his side but after seeing the MC smile for once while they played with the big oaf well…

Cerberus got a new playmate and the MC got a massive, three-headed therapy animal. Win-win. 😌

Mammon

Do ya really gotta be such a downer all the time, MC…? 😔

He thinks they’re nice, like really nice. They’re always super concerned when his brothers attack him or when he gets injured, but he’s pretty sure it’s because they’ve seen people die before so…

At first, he had no idea why he had to be saddled with this depressing wisp of mortal but over time he started to understand that they weren’t all that sad. They had… Resting Gloom Face? Is that a thing? 

They also had a different way of seeing things. He could win the lottery and they’d tell him to stay inside so he wouldn’t get hit by lightning or if he pissed off the wrong people, they’d joke about him keeping his fingers and toes. Dark stuff, but not intended to be so… well morbid.

However, what he eventually found out that the REAL advantage to having a Hades kid in the Devildom was that nothing scared them. Literally nothing. Not even the ghosts - which to reiterate, are terrifying!

Cue Mammon getting dragged to horror movies nights with his brothers and pulling the MC along to be his personal security blanket. He’ll hold onto them for dear life as they just pat his head or something, watching and not even flinching at the jumpscares.

The first time the House had an unexpected power outage he clung onto the back of their shirt like a lost child while they calmly looked for the circuit-breaker...

If he could jump into their arms every time something scary happened like Scooby-Doo, he absolutely would. His brothers make fun of him, but after seeing the MC handle Cerberus like a puppy any time something frightens them they hide behind the mortal as well…

Leviathan

In some ways, he totally relates to their moodiness but come on! Who can still look so sad when watching The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl?? Ruri-chan can make anyone smile! 😠

When he first met the MC, he was a little confused about why they didn't find him intimidating at all. He even reverted to his demon form and showed his fangs but no dice! All they said was, "I've walked along the edge of Tartarus. You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that, buddy…" 

That was probably his first sign that the "human" wasn't normal…

After Mammon told him who their Dad was, things made a lot more sense. A child of Hades in the Devildom? That's ironic enough to be its own anime plot!! They certainly felt like an angsty protagonist at times. 🤷‍♀️

Truth be told, they could relate to each other in a lot of ways. You wouldn't think that an offspring of the Underworld and a demonic shut-in would have much in common but the one thing they share between them is that sense of never really fitting in.

Turns out that Hades kids are black sheep, even among other demigods, and Levi? Well, he's had trouble relating to others since his angel days. He and the mortal were like off-beat kindred spirits!

Which, I mean, you wouldn't get just by looking at them together. Levi being the impassioned super-otaku rambling their ear off while his somber companion would just go along with him quietly, but hey, there's more beneath the surface. Probably. 

Now if he could just get them to cosplay as the Lord of Emptiness with him… They'd be perfect! Perfect he says!!

Satan

Highly considered drugging their food with antidepressants for a while… 

This was before getting to know them better, of course, but for the first couple months he honestly couldn't shake the feeling that the mortal looked miserable! 

Now, he's one to particularly care for the comfort of strangers, but just looking at them like that every day would sour his own mood quite considerably. It was very irritating...

It was only on closer inspection that he realized there was something else at play, though.

The mortal was different - even for a demigod he imagined. They took to the Devildom easily and the realm almost accepted them right back!

The flora looked better in their presence, the hellish beasts that roamed the wilds would roll over for them, and they even seemed to be welcomed in by the never-ending shadows… 

It was fascinating. Like the effects of the Underworld were baked into their DNA and mingled with the environment around them… Two layers of darkness coexisting within one person.

I mean, what other creature - other than Lucifer - could ride Cerberus around like a pony??

Had they not been so kind, they'd probably scare him shit-less... Their potential power was too great to ignore. But after getting used to their gloom, at least they made for pleasant company. 🤷‍♀️

Satan likes them well enough, but even still he has to wonder just what they were capable of… you know?

Asmodeus

Oh. My. WORD. What a buzzkill!!!

Really, the new mortal was no good at parties or pictures for that matter!

Not because they looked bad, or even because he couldn't get them to smile, but because GHOSTS would always photobomb any pictures they were in!! 😫

One time he got a selfie with them on the couch and a creepy ghost child could be seen hiding behind the cushions so NOPE. No more photos with the mortal around!!

Aside from that, he couldn't say the mortal was all bad or anything…They were pretty friendly, despite their general look and feel. 

Though, personally, he thought they wore far too much black... Even in the Devildom, there's normally a pop of color, you know? Was that just the Hades dress code?

And you want to know the weirdest thing? Despite everything about them screaming "Doom and Gloom," they're straaaangely popular among the RAD dating scene…

Like. Not as some heartthrob, "Love'em and Leave'em"-type, but he's found that there's a LOT of his demonic classmates who think they're cute or have a crush on them in some way…

Naturally, he can see the appeal of the mysterious, moody demigod with a dark, troubled past. It's just the demigod in question is completely oblivious to it! 🤷‍♀️

He tried to give them dating tips or play matchmaker from time to time but eventually gave up when it was clear they weren't interested. Alas, students of RAD, this is one forbidden fruit that refuses to be shared…! Such a tragedy… 😔

Beelzebub

They remind him of Belphie… like. A lot.

The similarities were obvious. They had a similar feel, made similar jokes, and even the same somewhat dreary attitude about them...

If he were being honest, at the beginning there were times when he'd open up to them a lot more than he intended because he'd forget that he wasn't actually talking to Belphie…

Thankfully, he knew better than to try and treat them like his replacement or anything. They were two different people after all. But it didn't stop him from feeling extra protective around them for a while.

Besides, there was ONE thing that set them leagues apart from Belphie and that was the fact they were a shit cook. Not quite as bad as Solomon but uh… Actually no, that's a closer call than it has any right to be...

Apparently, Hades kids don't need to eat as much and when you hang out with shades and skeletons for most of your life, you don’t really worry about making food that's any better than… "Well, technically it's edible." 🤷‍♀️

Their food won't kill a person like Solomon's, but you WILL start seeing stuff you probably shouldn't. He tried their "soup" once and swore he saw the ghost of his mother… and he doesn't even have a mother!!!

He swears that if he ever sees the MC and Solomon working together in the same kitchen he's skipping town… Whatever culinary abomination the two of them could create would probably gain sentience and eat HIM instead. He's always figured he'd go out with Death by Food, but not like that!! 😫

Belphegor

Ever meet someone who’s like looking in a mirror? Yeah, he’s getting those vibes…

He never expected the "human" to be so similar to him, it was kind of uncanny.

Upon first laying eyes on each other there was a pause… then a squint… and then… a nod.

Honestly, their combined dry wit, dark humor, and pessimistic outlook played off of each other surprisingly well. Too well for him to hate, really.

Not that it mattered because they didn’t believe him for a second when he tried to trick them (they had dealt with loads of lying monsters before). He hated to admit it, but they had a good head on their shoulders and knew better than to trust a locked up demon…

And yet, they seemed to stick around with him anyway. Because of the good conversation or just empathizing with his loneliness was anyone's guess. 🤷‍♀️

Sometimes they'd come up and sit outside the door in comfortable silence… Or they'd talk about whatever:

MC: *sitting out by the attic with their back against the door* So what happens to demons when they die…?

Belphie: *laying on the floor on the other side, staring at the ceiling* Depends on the kind. If I die, I'll just reform later.

MC: Like a reincarnation?

Belphie: Eh. *shrugs* Maybe. Haven't died yet.

MC: You could die in there, you know.

Belphie: *throws a side glare* Well thanks for bringing that up…

MC: *shrugs* What? It's true. But don't worry, I won't let you. *small-ish smile*

Belphie: *stares at them wide-eyed and pink-cheeked before turning on his side quickly* Ugh… whatever…

They did their word, somehow. They eventually got the door open and let him out, but by that time the anger was gone and he was just happy to finally talk to them face-to-face...

And good thing too, because apparently it's not smart to fight a death-child in what is essentially their element - as he saw when they summoned an army of skeletons to kick Levi's ass when he cheated them in Devil Cart...

He would not have lasted in that fight... Dodged a bullet there. 

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods #obey me scenarios

[saeyoungchoismaid]

in all honesty, i don't know how this would work, but it intrigued me.

24 + diavolo, maybe? if you can find inspiration for it :)

You did it perfectly anon!! FINALLY an ask for hubby Diavolo <3 Lmao this was just supposed to be a little drabble like the rest of them but nO I just hAd to go overboard. So now I have to add all this mess:

Pairing: Lord Diavolo x gn!reader Genre: angst, fluff, fake dating au Warnings: uh his dad hates you??? Summary: With the Demon King wanting Diavolo to find someone to rule with him, it’s only natural that he lies and says he’s already found someone(you), right?  Word Count: 2k words (so much for this being a drabble lmao)

24. kisses for a cover (I’m assuming this means like a cover up like a lie)

Being the prince of The Devildom comes with many responsibilities, including but not limited to: running The Devildom since his father has no interest in The Devildom’s affairs, hosting events and gatherings to strengthen his bonds with other lords and the other rulers of the three worlds, keeping an eye on the student council (which is mostly composed of meddlesome brothers that he cares for deeply), and the list goes on. 

Oh, can’t forget the fact that he is required to marry and have someone to rule by his side. Yeah, that’s apparently an important one. He’s always realized his responsibility and has accepted all parts of his life as fact, but when you come down from the human world to participate in his program, his solid plans suddenly all come to a screeching halt. 

It becomes clear to him that he can’t go and marry someone just for the sake of The Devildom. I mean, he’s been ruling The Devildom for most of his life just fine without someone else! He decided he wasn’t going to do it. He doesn’t want to marry anyone except for you and when he does, it’ll be because you two are ready for marriage, not because it’s his duty as prince. 

His father didn’t like that though. 

Despite Diavolo being the ruler of The Devildom, he is not yet the Demon King. That title still belongs to his father, who always has the final say. And in this case, his final say is that Diavolo cannot rule the kingdom on his own any longer. 

Diavolo sees red when he hears this news. 

It isn’t until his father decides to host a party to introduce him to possible suitors that Diavolo lies and says he’s already found someone to rule by his side. When asked who, Diavolo says your name, and, of course, his father wants to meet you right away. 

The only thing is, Diavolo hasn’t told you of his true feelings, meaning you are oblivious to how he truly feels about you. His father cannot know of this though. So, with Diavolo on his knees before you, he begs you to pretend to be his lover. He promises that he’ll do whatever you ask of him, as long as you do him this favor. 

Unbeknownst to Diavolo though, you’re just as crazy about him as he is about you. So of course you agree to his plan. 

Asmo helps you with your appearance, Satan teaches you some big words to use in front of the Demon King to impress him, Lucifer teaches you the proper mannerism to use in front of him, Mammon lets you wear his most expensive jewelry, Beel shows you the correct silverware to use during the dinner and in what order to eat it in, plus what to avoid, Levi gives you history facts about The Devildom and what the Demon King has done for it before Diavolo took over, and Belphie reminds you to flatter the Demon King as much as possible to please him. Barbatos, of course, goes over everything with you again to make sure your success is definite. 

When you’re finally ready, Diavolo picks you up at six o’clock sharp to bring you back to his father’s mansion for dinner. He smiles when he sees you, though his smile shrinks a bit when he notices how stiff and nervous you are. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispers to you when you reach him, gently taking a hold of your hand to kiss the back of it. His smile returns to its original state when you smile at him, your cheeks gaining heat to them at the compliment. 

“Thank you. You look quite dapper yourself,” you reply softly, admiring him in his fancy suit. His smile turns into a grin, happy to hear that you like his suit. His tie is your favorite color and everything. 

“Well, let’s get going,” he says as he leads you to the car and helps you get in. He talks to you about every and anything on the way there, trying to distract you and calm you down before you arrive. It works up until the car pulls up in front of his father’s mansion, your throat suddenly going dry. “You’ll do great,” he promises. 

He helps you out just like how he had helped you in before assisting you up the grand steps. When you reach the door, he gives a single powerful knock before waiting. You two aren’t waiting long before the door is flying open and a small woman is standing there. “Good evening. Please come in,” she greets meekly, pulling the grand door open for you two to walk inside. 

You two are then led to the dining room, where your chairs are pulled out for you two to sit. Within the next minute, the Demon King is walking in. “Welcome, welcome! I’m glad you two made it here okay!” he greets, surprising you with how chipper he seems. He takes a seat at the head of the grand table, your hands starting to shake a bit in his presence despite how friendly he seems. During Levi’s history lesson, he told you about all the scary things he’s done in his time. 

As soon as he’s taken his seat, servants are flocking in with trays of drinks and appetizers. You all wait until they’re gone before beginning to eat. You stare down at your plate, trying to remember everything Beel and Lucifer taught you. Why are there three spoons and three forks? Surely you don’t need that many. You glance at Diavolo and pick up the same fork as him, taking a deep breath to help relax your nerves. 

You glance at the Demon King to find that he looks satisfied with your silverware choice. Was this a test? You don’t have time to ponder it before he’s firing into questions about you. The first one being: “So, you’re...human?” How are you supposed to answer that? Of course you are, and he obviously knows this. 

“Um, yes,” you stutter out, feeling your cheeks flush when you realize your mistake. “Yes, your highness!”  He lets out a small hum, seeming to make a mental note of your mistake. From there, things seem to only get worse. It’s like you suddenly forgot how to speak like a normal person and things you’d never say are flying out of your mouth. You’re just trying to impress him and make him approve of you but you’re doing the exact opposite. 

It isn’t until the end of dinner that he announces this. 

“You know, son, I’m not sure this one is the best idea,” he starts, frowning at you as he gives you a once over. Before he can even continue though, Diavolo is standing up and glaring down at his father with a look of pure anger. You’ve never seen him so worked up before.

“I don’t care what you think about them! You told me to find someone to rule with and that’s what I’ve done. I love them and they will be by my side as I rule over The Devildom!” he announces, making your jaw drop as you stare up at him. You close your mouth and clench your jaw though when you remember what you’re here for. He doesn’t actually love you. He’s saying all of this to convince his father that he’s found someone who will rule with him. 

You apparently tuned out of the conversation at the wrong time because the next thing you know, you’re being tugged up by Diavolo and his lips are finding yours. Your eyes go wide in shock despite your brain trying to yell at your body not to show any signs of surprise. It’s easier said than done though. 

All too soon for your liking, Diavolo is pulling away from your lips. Something flashes in his eyes—hope or love maybe? Eh, who are you kidding—before he’s turning to look at his father again. “You see? I don’t want anyone else; I want them! They’re mine and I’m theirs!” he shouts at his father. Before he can reply to his son, Diavolo is dragging you out of the room and to the front of the house where the car is awaiting you both. 

Diavolo is silent for a long time while you two drive back home, a heavy frown on his face and his knuckles white with how tight he’s clenching his fists. “I’m sorry for all of that,” he apologizes softly, bringing your eyes away from his hands to his face. He’s not looking at you though, simply staring out his window at the scenery passing him by. 

“It’s okay. I understand. Barbatos informed me of your relationship with your father,” you say softly. They get along and all, but they more often than not end up in some sort of disagreement. It’s normally about how things are being done in The Devildom though. 

He sighs and reaches over to take your hand in his, staring down at the small hand in his big one. “I hope you’ll still consider my proposal,” he says softly, making your brows furrow. 

“What proposal?” you ask. His eyes finally meet yours and your heart skips a beat at how expressive his eyes are. 

“To rule The Devildom with me, of course,” he replies like it’s obvious. Your brows shoot up to your hairline at this news though. 

“What? I thought that was just something you were telling your father, so he wouldn’t force you to marry some rando,” you rush out, trying to wrap your mind around his words. There’s no way he actually wants you to rule The Devildom with him. You wouldn’t know the first thing about ruling over thousands of other people—er, demons.  

His brows knit together at your response, his other hand moving to grab your free one. “(Y/n), I’m sorry. I...I should’ve said something sooner,” he whispers, staring down at your hands now. This only confuses you more though. 

“Tell me what sooner?” 

He’s silent for a long moment, trying to gather the right words he wants to say. “I love you. What I said back there, it’s true. I want you to be by my side and help me to run The Devildom. You have so many good ideas and suggestions, I just know you’ll make a wonderful leader.” 

Now you’re just gaping at him like a fish. 

“What? No. No, I...I can’t,” you mumble, pulling your hands out of his. He just pulls them right back to him though. 

“You can’t? Can’t what? Be with me?” he asks softly, his voice sounding close to breaking, just like his heart. 

“No! No, I...I want to be with you. I love you too. I just...I don’t know the first thing when it comes to ruling over demons, most of which want to eat me,” you reply, trying to sound playful and joking but failing, your words being too true and hitting too close to home.

That didn’t stop Diavolo from smashing his lips to yours for a passionate kiss though. “That doesn’t matter. None of it does as long as I get to be with you. I’ll even step down from being King for you,” he mumbles against your lips after you two pull back for air. 

“No, don’t do that. These people need you just as much as I do. I’ll learn how to rule with time. Just stay by my side, okay?” you whisper back, pulling away from his face enough to look up into his eyes. 

He smiles brighter than The Devildom’s moon as he nods his head rapidly. “I swear I will. I’ll help you every step of the way.” He seals his promise with another kiss...and then another...and then just one more to be sure.

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MASTERLISTS

More with Lord Diavolo

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Tag List: @katelynwithpaint, @buzzybeebee, @stressylexy, @jungialo, @fanfictwarrior, @ohbbobeyme, @zeldan7, & @otome-otakuwu ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

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#diavolo x reader #lord diavolo x reader #obey me x reader #lord diavolo x mc #obey me x mc #obey me angst #obey me fluff #obey me fake dating au #lord diavolo fluff #lord diavolo angst #diavolo fluff #diavolo angst #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #diavolo #lord diavolo #swd diavolo #swd lord diavolo #obey me x mc fluff #obey me x reader fluff #obey me x reader angst #obey me x reader fake dating au #fake dating au #anon asks #asks #kisses ask game #obey me asks #diavolo asks #lord diavolo asks

[cinnamonest]

Ok but also modern Xiao is the exact type of boy to fall madly in love with a camgirl/egirl.

Like people joke about "beta" dudes and simps being the type to like camgirls and whatnot but from what I've heard from accounts of camgirls, those dudes are the most *vocal*, but the real loyal viewers are the silent ones. Quiet, socially inept kissless-virgin loners that don't have a social life to speak of.

As a camgirl you get a lot of commenters during streams -- there's always dudes who feel the need, for whatever reason, to comment on parts of your body or the acts you perform, or a bunch of simple comments like "hot!!" and, you know, various spammed emojis. And most of the bastards seem to think their comments are worth more than money, since they leave the bare minimum despite all their drooling over you, but that's just how people are.

You do get one, though, that's virtually silent. Almost a lurker, if it weren't for the massive cash drops the guy deposits once per stream and one very short comment. It's very simple, it's always a huge donation, followed by a very simple request for this or that, a request that certainly isn't really worth the insane sum of money you're being given. Worded very plainly, no descriptive language or use of emojis or anything, it's more like "suck on it." or "use that one." Sometimes he alone out-donates the rest of your viewers combined.

Not to mention, he's the sole subscriber to the top tier of that patreon you started. So the mystery guy gets a lot of benefits. A custom 10-minute video per month, for starters. You weren't really certain what else you should put on that tier... So you contact him about it and agree upon sending him something per request every month. He's a gross perv, which you could have easily predicted. Asks for things like used underwear and shirts, lipstick prints on your polaroids, hell, you even fill up a tiny container with saliva once for him. Oh, bathwater too. Gross. But he's paying, so.

And then, he starts asking... For something different. A conversation. You're a bit surprised at first, but he's serious. So you do it. Schedule a thirty minute session, message back and forth. You expected maybe he wanted to say something, but you end up doing 99% of the talking - he just asks simple questions. What do you do when you're not working? What do you do for fun? Do you have any family? Do you have any friends? Essentially an interrogation into your life. It feels like the kind of questions someone would ask on a first date, to be honest. You can't help but feel some pity for the guy if he's so lonely that he's willing to pay for this, so, you let it go a bit over the time limit.

You ask some things in return - he seems to not like talking about himself, quickly turns back around to questioning you, but gives brief answers - You're surprised to learn he's young, and not, well, a gross old dude like you're aware most viewers are. Seems odd, why can't he just go out and meet people? You can't say so directly, it would be rude, but he seems to pick up on the hint from things you say and answers the unspoken question - I'm not good with people.

He's aware of how it all works. He's not a delusional bastard that thinks a girl on the internet actually gives a shit about anything but his money, but... It feels nice. He's... A very lonely person. Never got along well with others, never really had anyone that cared. You're always so sweet in your little messages, you send little heart emojis and smileys and xoxo's in every message you send him, and he knows it's part of the act, but sometimes he does like to pretend it's real. The semblance of kindness and warmth and love. Likes to pretend you're being that sweet because that's how you actually are. Likes to forget that he's living on ramen and has a flat-zero savings balance because he's blowing his grocery money and savings on you. Likes to forget the transaction entirely, pretend there's no money involved. And most importantly, likes to forget you have plenty of other dudes that pay for you.

If he's being honest, he does sometimes let... Fantasies run through his head. Sometimes. But he knows it's dumb. And he feels pathetic about it, really. It's not like he can even hope to get a girlfriend in real life, he can't even remember the last time he talked to a female human being. Or... Anyone, for that matter. He has no friends, he works from home online. To say his social life is empty is an understatement.

Becoming addicted to you is only natural. He realizes he's becoming obsessed, but doesn't see any point in fighting it. You're just so sweet, so nice, and you even take your clothes off too. So he... Kinda starts to lie to himself, intentionally. It's almost kinda like having a girlfriend, isn't it? A... Long distance one. That doesn't know his name, that he probably doesn't know your real name, and has never seen his face, but... Still. It's kinda like that, isn't it? Maybe, just maybe, he can hold a little bit of hope in that dream every dude that ever loves a camgirl has... That somehow, a miracle happens and he has a real chance.

But it occurs to him that even if that's not what fate has in mind, he can make that reality come true.

Perhaps you're desensitized to creepy, given how so many of your followers are, so you make what will ultimately be a mistake. One month he asks for something... Odd. Says he wants to send you something that you should wear in your stream, that's the arrangement for this month. You set up a PO box. Figure it can't lead directly to you that way. It's a t-shirt, rather plain single color. It occurs to you that it's probably one of his, that he'll get off to seeing you wear, but something feels... Off about the whole exchange. Like there's some other intention you don't realize.

See, he's a bit tech savvy and has already well figured out where you live in general, he just wasn't sure which apartment it was, so he waits outside for you to pick up the package and follows you home. What a perfect, utterly unimaginable coincidence it turned out to be - here you could have been separated by oceans and countries and yet, it turned out you two lived in the very same town! Well, you knew that when he sent you his address for mailing, but you were smarter than to inform the guy who spends nearly his entirely salary on a camgirl (let's face it, no one who does that can be a mentally stable person) that you just so happen to live so close together. He realizes you avoided mentioning that realization, but he understands why.

Yes, he understands exactly why you wouldn't tell him, because you know that if he found that out, then he might do exactly what he knows he's going to do.

Also, you seem to be looking over your shoulder a lot more lately. He would know, he counts the number of times you do it every day for the past week. At least when you're outside, he can't see you as well when you're inside your place, even with the binoculars.

Your paranoia is what he thinks about as he goes to the store - walks there of course, so no cameras capture license plates. Wears a hoodie over his head. Self-checkout. Pay with cash, untraceable. Double-bags to make sure no one can see the red-flag combination of acetone, bleach and duct tape.

Yeah, he can't say he blames you, but you started being cautious a little bit too late.

#scheduled post #yan.txt #.camgirl

[erythrum]

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘖𝘯𝘦

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦,𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴,𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.9𝘬 +

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘺/𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

The boneyard was a melting pot, pogues, tourons, and kooks unalike all gathering for one of the last kegger's of summer. This mash together of kids from all over Kildare and the mainland always ended in chaos, it was just a matter of time before shit went down tonight.

Rafe had his arm thrown around my shoulders as we walked down the path to the boneyard. I could faintly see Topper and Kelce downing the cups of pogue provided beer. Didn’t matter whether or not the kooks or pogues could get along, as long as it was on the cut and alcohol was provided, the teens could get along for a limited amount of time.

“Hey y/n! What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for college this week?” It was Sarah who yelled out to me, running up to her brother and I in her floral printed dress. Rafe’s arm dropped to his side as she came with Topper not far behind.

“Oh I just couldn’t miss my last kegger before leaving, Duke can wait on me one more day.” The two of us embraced in one of those hugs that has you shifting your weight from side to side. I guess she didn’t realize I wouldn’t leave for college for another month, but I was sure she was already too drunk for me to explain it to her that she was not thinking of the right month.

As Sarah was hanging onto me probably a little too tight, Topper was giving Rafe one of those looks that said everything but also nothing at the same time. Like prior knowledge had to be known to understand the context. I of course did not, those two always had some stupid shit planned and I can almost guarantee it had to do with messing up the pogues’ little party.

The sun hung low on the horizon after I had finished my third cup, the colors illuminating the sky so brilliantly it felt like a fantasy. I stripped off my top and headed for the water, the pinks and purples of the sky reflected in its crashing waters. It was so cold, the temperature sent shivers up my body and a familiar rush in my energy. Almost waist deep now, I submerged my body completely under the water. It was always how I remembered it, calm and refreshing.

“C’mon Rafe! Don’t be a little bitch and get in there, I see the way you look at her,” Topper spewed, pushing his friend to have a little courage.

“Man what the fuck are you even talking about?” Deny everything Rafe thought.

“Oh come on dude, you’ve been making please love me eyes at her since the sixth grade, and please fuck me eyes at her since the tenth, when are you gonna do something about it for once? You’ve got a month to make a move, or regret it your entire life,” Topper continued his monologue as Rafe tuned him out, too distracted by the girl, his girl, staring out into the Atlantic like it was calling to her.

His heart was pounding as he made a B-line for the water, a light jog, but not so fast someone would think he’s crazy, or just madly in love. He swiftly pulled his polo over and off his head before plunging into the chilly water. Topper clearly knew whatever he'd said had worked.

I heard him before I saw him, Rafe approached and submerged himself just as I had a few minutes before.

“If we get hypothermia I'm sending you my hospital bills.” He laughed, wading around in the shallow water.

“Oh shock! Rafe Cameron threatening his medical bill payments? I never could’ve guessed!” We enjoyed our few minutes of peace before talking again.

“But it’s basically impossible anyways, you get use to it after awhile, maybe it’ll calm your hot-headed ass down,” I giggled and prepared for what always came next. Rafe pickup me up around my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before attempting to sprint as fast as he could deeper into the water. His hands had been wrapped around the back of my knees for a few moments until he threw himself and I down into the deeper water, both of us completely submerged beneath the surface.

The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the deep blue of the sky was beginning to envelop the boneyard. We had come up for air, and I began splashing him with the water around us, payback for his antics. Theres no way in hell I’d be able to throw him down into the water too, this was the best I could come up with. The two of us were laughing before Rafe grabbed my arms and twisted me around so my back was flesh against his front. I gave up on trying to fight him off. Instead I just rested against him in an attempt to catch my breath.

“Hey Rafe, can we talk about something?” Oh fuck she knows, he thought. This was gonna be it, it’s going to fuck up his entire plan.

“Yeah, uh sure, like here?” He questioned.

“Maybe not here, I think we’ve got as audience,” he knew she was referring to Topper and Kelce, they were watching from the beach.

"The truck then?" I nodded my head, not at all prepared for the favor I needed to ask of him.

The sand stuck to my feet as we headed back to where his truck was, the chilly air wrapping around my body. Rafe opened the backseat door and pulled out a towel for me, always prepared. He pulled the passenger side door and I slid into the seat, the heat of his car pumping through the interior. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure if his was too. We made it about halfway to tannyhill before speaking.

“Soooo,” he said.

“You’re going to think I’m absolutely crazy, Rafe," I laughed in an attempt to hide my nervousness.

"First of all, you're already crazy, and second of all, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what you're going to say," his hands were clenching the steering wheel harder now.

""Oh really? You already knew that I was going to ask you to take my virginity?" I don't know why, but I just blurted it out.

His car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, lunging me forward as he stared in disbelief at the road infront of him.

"Im sorry, what did you just say?"

"That I want you to take my virginity? V-card? Cherry? Damn Rafe how else am I supposed to say it?"

"And," there was a pause in his voice like he didn't believe me, "your being serious, correct?"

“Correct.”

“And, come again? I need to hear that one more time.”

“Jesus fuck Rafe, I’m being dead serious, I want you to take my virginity, what about that is so hard to explain?” It came out as more of a yell than a scream, he took a long sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He was thinking long and hard, I knew because he always had something to say, and now he wasn’t saying anything at all. It felt like hours had past before he spoke again.

“Why?”

It was my turn for a long sigh.

“Well, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and I want to do it, but whenever I think about it in my head the only person I can see doing it with is you. You’re the only person I trust enough with my own body, I mean shit,” I had to think for a long time before admitting what came next.

“Whenever someone, you know like Scarlet or whoever, asks about who I’m interested in or whatever it may be, not a single person ever comes to mind except you, it’s like all I see when I look at you is you, everything else is like blurred around you and whenever I think about who the love of my life will be, I always think of you, not some mystery guy that I haven’t met yet.” I didn’t plan for this to be a full confession on how I feel about him, but here I am spilling everything I’ve been holding in my heart for the last three years.

“And I know that sounds fucking stupid I know, I mean we’re still teenagers for crying out loud, but when I’m with you it always feels like I’m home.” I was nearly crying at this point, struggling to get the words out of my chest that had been waiting for so long. He was listening, deadly quiet, and I had no idea what he was thinking for once in my life.

“You know what? Just forget about it, can you take me home please?” I was definitely crying now, it felt like I’d ripped my own heart to shreds. Theres no way he could ever feel the same way about me, he protected me like I was his own blood, not like he was in love with me. My face was nestled into the sleeve of my hoodie as the tears came out. His hands had moved back to the steering wheel now, gripping onto it so tight I thought it might break. The muscles in his forearms almost looked like they were twitching, but he still had the car in park.

He wanted to just grab her and kiss her right now, the girl he'd been in love with since the sixth grade sitting in his passenger seat, her seat, confessing her feelings to him. Rafe knew it was alot for her to ask, but it meant even more to him everything that she had said after her original question. And there was no way in hell he was going to let her get away again.

Rafe reached his hand over to hold onto her tear stained cheek.

"y/n," The bother of them were breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you," it slipped from my mouth and he leaned in to kiss me. It felt like I had a wave of electricity coursing through my body. His hand grasping onto my face as he leaned over the center console. My hand reaching for his chest, his lips on mine as we intertwined with one another. It felt like everything in my life was complete, and the tension has been released. His fingers tangled in my hair.

It was over before I realized it, and Rafe was driving me home. My breathing hadn't normalized in any way, it was like I needed to throw up my heart to get the knot out. I couldn't stop thinking about the way his had felt on me, the way his lips felt on mine, the way it felt for once in my life like I was loved.

"i'll think about it," his voice cracked.

I leapt out of his car as fast as I could with tears streaming down my face. Did he feel the same? Did he not? My brain was spinning so fast I barely made it inside my bedroom door before collapsing. I wrapped myself up in the thick comforter, a heart full of ache and a body exhauster with sleep.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

#rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron #obx smut #obx #outerbanks smut #outerbanks

[sandbees]

Yuu and the House of Mouse; The...Great Seven?

It’s been three weeks since Yuu has worked at the House of Mouse.

Headmaster Crowley decided that going would be a great experience! He graciously gave you permission to work there! (Just don’t forget to do your homework and get a good rest after; he doesn’t want you to be lagging behind your classes after all!)

At the House of Mouse, you eventually learned the ins and outs; and you’ve gained everyone’s attention. They like you a lot! You have this, “If I talk to you about my problems you’ll listen kindly and either give me advice or continue to let me vent out my feelings” vibe.

Being a (sort of) therapist must have helped, huh?

You yourself have a few favorite guests that you can always look forward to seeing;

Tiana and Naveen: You hit it off when you first met. Something about their dynamic and allowing you to vent about back at Twisted Wonderland gave you good vibes about them. They’re polite guests, and they have given you advice on how to improve your work. Tiana has (once) invited you to work for them if you wanted to work at another job, but you tell them that you have school. They’re immediately concerned, because someone going to school working at a job with very demanding and colorful characters? You assure them that you’ve manage to balance school and work, however they seem less than convinced. Though nothing big changed, they occasionally remind you to take breaks and to have fun watching the cartoons on screen when you’re not busy waiting tables. (They also give you candy from their time! Butterfingers, anyone?)

Hades: He’s a frequent guest at the House of Mouse. You had lent an ear to his complaints, and then again, and then again, and soon enough you’re his personal therapist. You’re the go-to waiter whenever Hades shows up; much to the delight of the staff (The penguin waiters are...a little scared of Hades). It’s surprising how little he seems to reflect Ignihyde. He’s like a shut in extrovert. However, when you tell Hades this, he becomes very interested in your world. He’ll let you ramble about what you know about Twisted Wonderland, and he’s going to make smug comments about it. After that encounter, Hades starts conversations with you that isn’t just complaining about his siblings. In fact, he’s one of your pep talkers when you’re feeling stressed or down.

The Darling Siblings: If you don’t recognize them, they’re the siblings from Peter Pan! (Wendy, John, and Michael) When you first met them, they acted very polite. And they gave “children, protect them” vibes. As you continue to work, you discover that the children had a more playful side to them. You could easily joke with them and in exchange Wendy would tell you stories or John and Michael would tell you about their recent adventures.

Scrooge McDuck: Donald introduced him to you, actually. He mentioned, “Since you sound like you’ve been on a lot of adventures, I think you might like to share stories.” How right he was. Scrooge’s stories were captivating and enchanting, you’d always be on the edge of your seat hearing them. Whenever he swung by and you were on break, you two would be swapping stories of your lives. He was most interested in your first day story; about the magical chandelier specifically. You always look forward to a new story he would have.

Of course there were others, but the ones listed above were the people you loved seeing.

Today was a typical night in the House of Mouse, though everyone seemed...a little agitated?

You ask Mickey, and he explains that there was a reservation for a villain get together...and last time, it went poorly.

You offer to serve them as a waiter, since you’re sure that you can handle it.

“Are you sure?” “I’ve dealt with worse characters...I think. By the way, can I get the list of who’s going?”

You find out Hades was the one who reserved it (oh thank goodness, someone you’re already familiar with. And he likes you)

He’s also bringing - “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” “The Queen of Hearts, Scar, Ursula, Jafar, The Evil Queen, and Maleficent.” “I-“

Imagine your shock when you find out Hades is bringing all of the Great Seven. You’ve already met Maleficent, but someone like the Queen of Hearts, or the Beautiful Queen??? You’re ready to walk to your doom right now.

When the doors open, you go about your night as usual, though your on edge as you anxiously wait for the Great Seven to arrive. This would be the first time you would be interacting with most of them.

When they arrive, you greet them and take them to their table, doing normal procedure.

However, things go south when Hades asks Yuu to come and have a chat with them when they go on break.

“yeAH suuurrreee-“ “Great! They have a lot of questions and I think they’d like to hear what you have to say!”

Yuu is making high pitch dying screams when she gets to the kitchen.

“Oohhhh my god, they want to talk to me. What if I mess up? What if they dislike me and then try to kill me? Oh no oh no-“

Yuu is trying not to scream in excitement and stress as Mickey excuses her to talk with the Great Seven.

The meeting? It goes well.

When they ask about their world, Yuu describes their time at NRC, and how the villains were praised as good people, and were known as the “Great Seven”.

They were very intrigued about this, and would always puff up when Yuu praised them. They also ask questions about Yuu as well!

What? They’re villains, but they’re not rude.

They listen to your tales, and are sympathetic to the idiots that you surround yourself with. They get it, they are also surrounded by idiotic, self centered heroes who think they’re in the right- (projecting much?)

The Queen of Hearts is a lot more than you expected; she’s strict, but she also has good humor (as long as you don’t mock her). When you ask what kind of tarts she likes, she responded with “Any kind of tart, however jam filled tarts are one of my favorites.”. You wonder if she’d like the tarts Trey would make.

Scar...isn’t talkative, though he seems very pleased when you talk about what NRC thinks of him. He’s actually kinder to you - you’ve heard stories from Goofy and the penguins waiters that Scar is hard to please.

Ursula is what you would call a sweet talker. Kind of like Hades, but you can tell that she wants something. You indulge her, answering any questions about your world. She seems particularly interested in the rivalry between NCR and RSA, however.

Jafar wants to know everything about Scarabia. From it’s current standing to it’s history. You try your best to explain as much as you know about the dorm; but you mention that your information is limited since it wasn’t your dorm. He’s satisfied with what you give, but Jafar tells you that next time, he’d like to know more. You better go study up on Scarabia now :) (Or ask Kalim or Jamil about Scarabia)

The Beautiful (Evil?) Queen acts smug, and she seems relaxed around your presence. Maybe it’s because you told her that she’s known as the Beautiful Queen? She wants to know who is housed in her dorm, and like Jafar, she wants to know everything about Pomfiore. When she heard about the VDC, she asks multiple questions about it. (“When the VDC comes around, maybe I shall grace everyone with my presence...hmm, or should I help NRC’s team? I mean, they would represent me, of course.”

I’ve actually mentioned that you have met Hades and Maleficent in this ask

Hades and Maleficent consider you as friends (maybe not close friends, but friends nonetheless)

The rest of the Great Seven also have positive opinions on you; and they try their best to live up to your expectations! They can’t have you turn your back on them after you openly praise them!

You’re dragged away from your job - instead you focus on entertaining the Great Seven! (Which was fine, Pete was at it again by trying to drive out the guests; you kept the Great Seven in so they could still run the show!)

As the night went on, you felt yourself getting less and less nervous about being with the Great Seven. You had loads of fun!

Of course the show ended sooner than you liked; and it was closing time.

“It was really wonderful to meet you! Maybe we’ll see each other again when the House of Mouse opens again?”

“Why would we wait for nighttime? I have a magic portal to travel to Twisted Wonderland whenever we’d like.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Turns out Maleficent had an easier way to travel to Twisted Wonderland; but she gave you a sparkling gem. She told you that when she gave everyone (The Great Seven) a way to travel to Twisted Wonderland, they’d surely visit you. With the gem, it will sparkle and shine a certain color when they do.

The color? Well, of course it would be the dorm colors! It would be easier that way, would it not?

So, in the near future, the Great Seven would be able to visit you.

What do you think? You’re not against the idea; but the idea of one of them showing up during class is going to be a nightmare.

Oh well, future you will worry about that.

You thank Maleficent and go about returning to your world.

Before you get to the mirror, Mickey stops you.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for making sure the villains stay, it was a lifesaver and you saved our show.” “No...problem?” “Haha, our club would’ve been toast if they left! Thank you again!” “...Your welcome?”

And then you departed from the House of Mouse, immediately crashing onto your bed. Lazily, you take a glance at your mirror, wondering when you’ll see the Great Seven.

Then you promptly fall asleep.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcannons #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland yuu #house of mouse #Yuu gets a job #Disney #hades #maleficent #Ursula #queen of hearts #evil queen #Jafar #scar #twisted wonderland headcannon #the great seven visiting Yuu would be HILARIOUS #Queen of Hearts: Oh hello Yuu I’m here to pop in #Yuu: hello Queen of Hearts we are having an Unbirthday party. would you like to join? #Queen of Hearts: I would love to #All of Heartslybul: What. Excuse me- #Riddle: *Having a breakdown because the Queen of Hearts is here and suddenly becomes more strict* #house of mouse au

[softscummymammon]

€Unexpected Acquaintance€

Assisted by:: @jinjinjinjin

❃.✮:▹»»——⍟——««◃:✮.❃

Sukuna just wanted this day to end. He was already in a bad mood from the storm last night, where he got little of his much needed sleep, and his mood had only gotten worse when he was faced with a bunch of "nature friendly" bastards protesting near the docks where his boat was tied down.

Now, he just wanted to get his daily load of fish for the market, and have a nap without dealing with any other goody two shoe hypocrites. He could already feel the headache building up behind his eyes.

Though the gentle rocking of the boat over the surface of the water did ease him slightly. People besides other fishermen were always so confused when he actually said something about himself and it happened to his be career in fishing. They were always so astounded when he said he could stay on a boat for a whole day. Weaklings, all of them.

Rubbing at his sore eyes, Sukuna glared at the surface of the horizon and took a sip of the alcohol in his canteen. Tucking the tin back into his wader's pocket, he patted the pocket for safe keeping.

Walking to the front of the boat, he checked his net markers he left a few days ago. Sukuna gasped when he saw his marker bobbing up and down frantically. Getting his equipment ready, he tugged on some gloves and grabbed at the net right under the marker.

Taking a breath, Sukuna started tugged on the net. Grabbing every piece of net coming from the water, Sukuna huffs as he pulls the net further and further from the water. The sound of splashing water reached his ears and he smirked in victory.

Putting all the access netting into one hand, Sukuna quickly reaches behind him for the mechanical hook. The machinery on his boat was built and bought by him only, so only he knew how it worked. By reaching for the net first, he can easily tie the access onto the hook and pull up the rest of it out of the water.

Doing exactly what was needed, he tied the net to the hook and grabbed onto the leaver and started cranking the leaver clockwise. The machinery raised the net out of the water better than he ever could. The load he hauled onto his deck made him smile and rub his hands together gleefully.

" This shipment is definitely worth a pretty penny. Now, all I gotta do it sort you out, fish sticks. "

*Slap* "Who you callin' fish sticks, blubber mouth?! "

Sukuna froze. Looking up, he raised his hand to his face and wiped away some water the fish that had been thrown at him left on his cheek. Peering down at the fish now flopping on his deck, he gave the thing a death glare; as if that would give him any answers. He must really be going crazy-

"Up here, blubber-for-brains. "

His eyes snapped up towards the voice. But the air in his lungs escaped as if they were punched out of him. A human(?)'s upper torso was visible at the top of the net. It was leaning against the hook of the machinery and was throwing and catching a fish in its hand.

Sukuna raised a brow, " What the fuck? "

The thing raised one of its brows back, " Nice use of language, Oh Smart One. I thought you humans were supposed to be intelligent. Though, every one of your kind I've encountered uses fowl language, so smarts must just be a myth. "

Sukuna growled at the things snarky commentary, " Oh yeah? And what kind of intelligent creature like you gets stuck in a fishing net, huh? So much for being smart. "

The thing snarled, showing off rust colored stained teeth dyed by no doubt blood as sharp as many of Sukuna's own fileting knives. It held tightly onto the fish in its hand, " Watch your mouth, human, I still got a whole lotta of ammo here, and your face is lookin' like a big ol' target from where I'm sittin'. "

Sukuna rose an unimpressed eyebrow and pulled out a harpoon gun he kept in the captain's quarters, " Mine hurts worse. "

The thing flinched back and hissed at the gun, but slowly set down the poor he probably squeezed to death in his panic. The thing made a whiny sound in the back of its throat, " I didn't choose to get stuck here. I was getting chased by some shark mers. Those nasty ones only know the smell of blood and the next potential meal. I'd choose to be anywhere else right now, trust me. "

Sukuna huffed, " Yeah, sure. " Putting away the gun, Sukuna sighed and looked back up to the sulking thing. Looking closer, he was the slightest shine of scales decorating the cheeks, neck, and forearms of the thing. Its eyes were steely and sunken in, as if it's seen things beyond it's life time.

Sukuna chuckled upon realization, " You're a mermaid, aren't you? "

The mer scoffed, " Merman, thank. But 'mer' is just fine. I still don't get why ya humans always gotta gender code things. Damn, just call us what we are? "

Sukuna chuckled again, " What? Nuisances? "

The mer hissed again, " We wouldn't be if ya humans knew to keep to yerselves. Ain't this section of the coast off limits to fishers like yerself? "

Sukuna shrugged, not giving an answer. The mer scoffed and crossed it's arms over it's chest. Sukuna looked at it up and down, taking in everything he could. He hummed delightfully.

The mer must have caught on, " What'cha lookin at me fer? Think I'm some sorta snack for yer to eat? "

Sukuna shook his head no, " Nah, I was just rememberin how much one of your kind goes to sell on the blackmarket. You gotta be worth something. No rich bastard would give up the opportunity to call a thing like you pet. "

The mer's eyes went thin, but already creamy skin paled considerably, " You wouldn't... "

Sukuna rose a brow, " Oh, and why wouldn't I? I could definitely use the money. "

The thing stayed quiet, before it soon started to shake. Sukuna was about to sneer and comment about it being weak, but paused when a face formed from agony and rage shot up to glare at him. Sukuna had to keep himself from tensing and tried to look as calm as he could be.

The mer growled, " That's all that ya humans are. Selfish and greedy monsters only willing to do something if you get money in return. Do you know how many of our kind is sacrificed, hunted, and killed just so the others can live? Just so you humans can play god and reap what we mer's sew. "

Sukuna gulped, remembering the auction show he was emailed an invite to since he contributed a large amount of fish to the CEO of the company. It was a disgusting show of wealth. How millionaires and billionaires fought over a small little thing that held a resemblance to the one right in front of him.

The mer wasn't done, but tears of grief started to roll down it's eyes, " How many of our guppies, our children, are pulled from our arms to be sold like live stock?! You are no better! "

Sukuna had enough of this tantrum, " Do not bundle me with those people! I'd never harm a child, even if I am considered a monster by other people. I will not allow it to be done by a fish like you! "

The mer shrunk back, breathing irregular and struggling, like a faint wheeze. It swallowed roughly and looked away. Sukuna rumbled, now over flowing with guilt he felt he should not harbor. Looking back up, he became slightly alarmed at the shallow and wheezy breaths the mer was taking.

Mer's need water, his mind supplied. Sukuna growled, and hackles raising when he caught the mer flinching again. Walking away from the net, he went down below deck on got out a giant glass tank he kept in case he needed to keep a fish alive for more profit.

Taking it up the stairs and on to the deck, he set it down on some secure boxes and grabbed a bucket to start filling it with water. He had to make haste though, or the mer would die from drownin? Suffocation? And all of this work would be for waste.

Once the tank was full and covered from the beating ray of the sun, Sukuna walked over to the leaver controlling the hook and rotated it counter clockwise. He watched as the machine lowered the net onto the deck and he let go of the leaver. Once the machine stopped, he stepped up to the net and untied it.

Being this up close and personal to the mer, he watched as the sun made the scales look iridescent. Slipping his arms underneath the torso of the fish being, he pulled it out of the other fish and dragged it towards the tank. The mer roused slightly, trying to fruitlessly push Sukuna away. The bigger man scoffed and dropped the mer into the tank.

The reaction was instant, the mer took a deep breath through the large gills covering it's side and it slumped against the rim of the glass tank. Sukuna watched, looking at the mer's tail that could he classified as art in itself. It was beautiful, though he would never admit it. The thin tarp Sukuna draped over some boxes didn't stop the light from the sun bouncing off the glittering scales.

Sukuna's gaze went back up to the mer's face, startling to see the mer was also looking at him. It's hair fell in it's face, blocking out most of it. It puffed, blowing some of the strands out of it's eyes to get a better look.

Sukuna hated the way his chest constricted at the show. The mer raised a webbed hand, and Sukuna slowly took it and shook it. He made a face when he pulled it back and fake gagged at the slimy feeling left on his skin. The thing laughed at his disgust and shook it's head, getting water everywhere.

It smirked, " The name's _____ _____. What's yours, blubber man? "

Sukuna sneered at the nickname, " That's not my name. It'd Sukuna Ryoumen, nothing else. "

The mer smirked, " Well now I gotta call you that every time I address ya. "

Sukuna growled, " Don't you dare. " The glint in the fish's eyes didn't quell any of the building dread that sat in the bottom of his stomach. He really debated on if he should sell the fish or not.

❃.✮:▹»»——⍟——««◃:✮.❃

#anime headcanons #jjk x male reader #ryōmen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #x male reader #male character #mermaid male reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna x male reader #tw blood #tw gore #tw fishing #tw harmful endangerment #alternate universe

[glowingbadger]

The Sylvain and Dimitri arranged marriage stuff made me think of a claude version of it. Maybe an AU where Claude never came to fodlan and reader has to marry the prince/king of Almyra to improve countries relationships. Anyway seriously love your stuff thank you so much for the content!!

Oh hoo Anon, this is a wonderful take on the concept. Let's see what I can whip up for us~

((side note I feel like we never learn whether Almyra speaks a different language from Fodlan?? But being multi-lingual is sexy so idgaf))

((And also I used Bengali for Almyran because I have Bengali family and the language is so beautiful even though the english alphabet phonetic spellings are weird af))

Claude x Reader - Arranged Marriage

NSFW 18+ (like only towards the end tho idk)

Overall, you do what you can to stay out of the way. You'd been sent to Almyra as a symbol- a token, more than anything else. Now that you were in King Khalid's possession, very few throughout the castle paid you any particular mind. You were provided for, of course. Anything you cared to ask for was given. But you didn't speak a word of the Almyran language, and those who bothered to use what they knew of Fodlan's to communicate with you seemed to view you as a pet to be kept safe and healthy, and little else.

By week's end, there was to be a lavish banquet in honor of your union with the King- though of course, your input on the proceedings is entirely unwanted. In some ways, Almyra is quite similar to Fodlan. Court life is much the same. As you wander through the royal gardens, wondering at a range of colorful and exotic flowers you'd never heard of, let alone seen, a voice speaks smoothly behind you.

"Did you know you can actually eat the petals of this particular flower? They're very sweet."

You whirl around and nearly bump into King Khalid. You're about to stammer out an apology, but he reaches out and plucks a single white petal and holds it before your lips.

"Go on, I think you'll like it."

Whatever possesses you to eat a flower petal from this man's hand is something you'd rather leave unexamined for the time being- but he is right about the flavor. It's sweet, but not overly so, and quite pleasant.

"Hm! Yeah, it's nice," you say, then glance up at him as another thought occurs to you that you'd considered once or twice before, "You speak the language of Fodlan very well, my Lord."

"I'm flattered," he says with a disarmingly handsome smile, "and please, just Khalid. I don't think I could bear to have my own wife stand on such formality with me."

He says it so naturally, as if you'd been planning this union for years. Though, once again, he's right. This is only perhaps the dozenth time you've exchanged words, but you are wed, and you ought to get used to addressing him as your husband.

"Khalid..." you say tentatively, "Did- did you need something from me? I hope I wasn't too much trouble to find."

"Not when you find such pleasant places to hide," he replies, still wearing that easy smile, "but to be honest, I was actually hoping you'd accompany me for the day. I can finally afford to take a bit of time away from the castle, and I think you and I both would appreciate some space to breathe. What do you say?"

Correct once again. You nod, and take the arm he offers you. As he leads you out from the gardens, he points out a few more plants native to your new homeland. They're incredibly varied, each more strange and vibrant than the last. All the while, he's somehow made you feel as though you're chatting with an old friend. You leave the gardens and wander towards the area you vaguely recall to be designated for horse stables and wyvern stalls.

From there, a few things happen in sequence. Khalid asks if you're afraid of flying. He asks if you trust him to hold on to you. He helps you up onto the saddle that seems impossibly high up on its own right, and then, you're propelled into the air with a force your body has never felt before. You tense and shrink back against his chest, clinging to whatever part of the saddle you can find purchase on for dear life. Up here, it's difficult to pick up, but you feel your husband laugh behind you, then his strong arm wrap around your waist.

"Relax, I won't let anything happen to you," he says against your ear, his voice sure and steady, "I've got you."

And it takes a few miles of flying and a lot of Khalid distracting you by pointing out different buildings and shops along the streets below, but eventually, you do manage to relax- at least a little.

The castle town is positively buzzing with activity. Even from your distance in the sky above, you can see clusters of people moving around each other like fish up stream, and even hear the faint echoes of a merchant advertising goods.

"It doesn't seem at all like the Almyra we're taught about in Fodlan."

"Oh, it is," Khalid assures you with a bemused chuckle, "But it's also much more. I imagine it's the same for your people. There's a lot we can learn from one another, I think."

By the time the sun is high in the sky, you've passed the most densely settled part of town and are gliding over farmland and the occasional pocket of forest and rivers that split and cross through the earth like veins. Though, the warmer climate of Almyra will still take some getting used to, and it seems your husband considers this.

"Let's land for a bit and find some shade,"

You nod, and he directs his wyvern to begin a slow descent.

The King had thought of everything for this little day-trip, it seemed. Having evidently packed everything you'd need in the saddlebags on his steed, you now recline beside him on a plush blanket in a clearing amidst the trees. A small brook bubbles down from stone to stone in small waterfalls beside you, and the air feels positively alive with birdsong and rustling leaves, all foreign to you and all part of your new home. And so is he, you think as you glance over at the handsome figure of your husband beside you.

You'd been sitting in a comfortable quiet, munching on a couple of very dense pastries which Khalid had told you incorporated an extract of the flower you'd sampled earlier. He gives a satisfied sigh as he finishes his first and lies back on the blanket, taking in and savoring a deep breath. As you finish the last bites of your own treat, you reflect on the day thus far. You'd learned much about the locals and their daily lives by observation and Khalid's description in such a short time, and he'd even taught you a hand full of basic words and phrases in Almyran.

"Uhm, Khalid?"

He opens one eye and gives you a sideways glance.

"It was... dhonnobad, right? Thank you?"

His smile his open and warm, his eyes practically shimmering in the reflected sunlight from the nearby brook.

"Well, we'll have to work on your pronunciation, but I'm impressed you remembered," he beckons you down onto the blanket beside him, and you follow, lying on your side as he turns towards you. You're closer than you'd anticipated, even given the limited realestate of the blanket, and you internally scold yourself for being shy about something so silly- like some naive adolescent.

"Let's try a couple more words, since you've been such a diligent student."

"Okay," you say with a smile, "try me, I'll do my best."

"Hmm..." he looks around your private clearing, then gestures towards the brook and says, "Jala"

"Jala," you repeat slowly. He nods,

"Right- that's 'water'. And, uhm..." he points toward a patch of wildflowers at the edge of the brook, "Phula. That's 'flower'."

Again, you repeat as best you can, and though you know your pronunciation must be off, he's encouraging nonetheless. Then, he leans in towards you, and brings his free hand to your cheek, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly.

"Now try sundara."

"... Sundara?" you make an attempt, and you're sure you got something about that 's' sound mixed up, but Khalid just gives you a slanted smile. He doesn't clarify at first, so you ask, "What does that one mean?"

His fingers slowly weave back into your hair, and his voice is low and soothing as he replies,

"That means 'beautiful'."

Your face warms immediately, but you hardly have a moment to feel bashful about it before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you slow and deep. His movements are effortlessly sensual, pulling you towards him and sending your pulse pounding through your veins. You part your lips to him almost instinctively, and the way he uses his tongue is sparing, but oh-so effective. When he finally pulls away, your head is spinning and it's all you can do to meet his gaze.

"So... that's how they kiss in Almyra." you say, barely above a whisper. Khalid smirks and turns you onto your back, sliding an arm around your waist.

"Oh, no- there's no tradition in this, only skill."

Goddess- if they'd warned you of the King's supernatural charms, you wouldn't have believed them. But now his lips are on yours once again, and he's holding your body to his, and you can't think of anything else. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and faster than you can track, your bodies have met in a tangled, impassioned embrace. It was hard to imagine that mere kissing could feel so erotic, but something about his pace, about how his lips and hands move in tandem, about how thorough he is in exploring you, makes you feel like it would be only natural to give yourself over to him completely.

His kiss travels along your jawline up to the shell of your ear, where he nips briefly, then murmurs,

"I was hoping to apologize for how little time we've had to get to know each other before today," you bite at your bottom lip as his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, "if that would be pleasing to you, my dearest wife."

"Ye- yes..." you sigh into the open air as his lips reach your neck. The single word is all either of you need. He never stops pressing lavish kisses to your lips and neck as he pulls your clothing out of his way. By the time he's satisfied, your clothes are draped off your arms and pooling around you on the blanket- and he doesn't seem to care to remove them entirely. He has a goal in mind.

Slowly, painstakingly, he makes his way down your body. You feel him everywhere- hands tracing and memorizing your frame, breath hot across your skin as his lips spoil you with adoring kisses. Soon enough, he's kissed his way to your lower stomach, and he urges your thighs apart beneath him. You suppress the instinctive wave of embarrassment at being exposed to him for the first time- he is your husband and your King, afterall- but then, his head dips down towards your plump lower lips, and your mind goes white.

"Khalid-!" you gasp out as his tongue trails coyly up the crease of your folds. He hums contentedly, and places a disarmingly chaste kiss to the soft skin. Then, his thumbs gently spread you open for him, and your entire body burns while he takes a moment to merely admire you- your pretty little hole already wet, your clit already hard and flushed dark. When his head lowers once more, his green eyes meet yours steadily, as though to promise without words to be good to you.

And in a moment, his mouth begins to gently tease your clit, and your head tilts back on the blanket. Your hips jerk just a bit with each pass of his tongue across the sensitive bundle, and occasionally you can't hold in a gasp or whimper of pleasure. This only encourages him, of course. The more you moan and sigh, the more dedicated he becomes to your body. He presses himself more firmly to you, his lips surrounding your clit and the surrounding tender flesh, and he suckles on you, licks you, kisses you. You don't know when it happened, but your hands are at the back of his head, fists tangled in thick brown hair as he diligently works.

The unbearable tension is winding tight and anxious in your lower body- you know he'll drive you to climax before long, and the mere thought feels like falling in love. And then Khalid moves lower, and his tongue dips inside of your entrance. You gasp and unwittingly tug on his hair- but he certainly doesn't seem to mind. With a lustful groan, he presses more firmly to you, truly buried against your body as his dexterous tongue curls upward, stroking the vulnerable spot behind the nerves of your clit.

"Khalid!" this time it's nearly a scream, and you're grateful that your voice is lost in the surrounding foliage. Your thighs begin to shake, and your hands release him to instead clutch the blanket behind you. And at last, with a whimper in a voice you hardly recognize, your lower body floods with soaked warmth as your orgasm sweeps through you. Panting, twitching, you moan out for your husband over and over, until finally, the wave begins to subside, and Khalid pulls away to position himself above you on all fours.

"That's a nice expression..." he says with a grin, directing you to look at him with a hand at your chin, "I hope I'll get to see it often."

When your eyes finally refocus, you look up at him somewhat apologetically,

"I should... attend to you."

He laughs and kisses your forehead,

"There will be time for that tonight, don't you think? Once we're a bit more... put together," he says with a glance at your bare form, "we should head back to our ride. I'll bring you back to the castle, and we'll get the cooks to prepare something very 'Almyran' for you."

You nod- it probably wouldn't do for the first time with your Lord Husband to be mid-day in the woods. Though he'd certainly failed to make it seem unappealing.

"And then," he goes on, bringing a finger to trace the curve of your bottom lip, "Well, maybe we'll excuse ourselves to our bedchamber a bit early this evening, and we can continue this little... cultural exchange."

#why do these always end up so long urg #claude von reigen #fe3h #claude x reader #fire emblem smut #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem #feh #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem imagines #x reader #claude fire emblem #not sfw writing

[outofsstyles]

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?” 

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time. 

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.” 

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her. 

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address. 

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd. 

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.” 

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head. 

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone. 

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions. 

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen. 

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after). 

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way. 

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.” 

 The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

 “Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too. 

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones. 

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?” 

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own. 

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out. 

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand. 

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located. 

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse.  “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further. 

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again. 

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.” 

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight. 

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused.  “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!” 

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months. 

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk. 

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.” 

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh.  “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

[frostedfaves]

Oasis

Masterlist

Pairing: dom!Natasha Romanoff x sub!fem!reader

Summary: Natasha promised you relief later, but you’d never been one to have patience.

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!!!), dom/sub, daddy kink, penetration, fingering, sex toy use, public(ish) sex, hair pulling

A/N: this didn’t turn out as long as I wanted it to be, but it did inspire a (possible) series for the future. no promises that it’ll happen anytime soon though haha. anyway, please don’t be afraid to tell me your thoughts on this!

-

Natasha should’ve known you’d cause a problem today, from the moment she woke up to the sight of you, naked and straddling her waist with a smile.

“What are you doing?” she questioned with a sleepy mumble, rubbing her eyes and ignoring the way your hands slowly slid past her barely covered breasts to rest on her shoulders.

“I thought you might appreciate the view.”

“I do.”

Despite the confirmation, she pushed you away so she could climb out of bed, causing you to flop down on your side of the bed with a frustrated huff. A pout formed on your lips as you scrambled across the mattress, locking both hands around her wrist before she could head off to the bathroom.

“I wanna play.”

“I’m aware, baby, but Daddy’s very busy this morning.” She leaned down to kiss your forehead gently and briefly. “Give me a few hours without trouble, and I’ll play with you, okay?”

“Can I at least join you in the shower?”

“Only if you behave,” she sighed, her frown shifting to an amused grin when you hopped off the bed and skipped past her into the bathroom.

After the surprisingly uneventful shower, Natasha ate toast with you in the kitchen of her private floor and departed with a lengthy kiss, smiling as you waved adorably until the elevator doors closed. She hoped it was a sign that you were being good today, but part of her knew better.

-

“Hey,” Steve greeted Natasha as she approached him on the ground floor. “How’s the wife?”

“Anxiously awaiting my return to our floor, as am I. Why can’t we just give them a map of the tower or something, or have JARVIS tell them where to go?”

“You know Stark,” Steve responded with a shrug. “What’s the point of having a tower with your name on it if you can’t give people a tour of the thing?”

“Still don’t understand why we have to be there for this,” Natasha grumbled as the main doors were opened, and Tony entered with two individuals following.

“Just the duo I was looking for!” he called with a grin as he approached. “I know you know Sam, but this is Wanda Maximoff. Fury says she’s good with her mind and could help the team out a lot on missions.”

“Hi,” Wanda softly greeted, and Natasha nodded at her in response.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wanda. I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” Wanda accepted his outstretched hand, and Natasha noticed her eyes turn slightly red as she looked into his, the color fading as she faced Natasha, who averted her gaze.

“Save some team bonding for the rest of us,” Tony teased, gesturing for the group to follow as he walked away.

“Is he always like this?” Sam questioned, and Natasha shook her head.

“Oh no, it gets worse.”

-

An hour that felt like three passed as Tony gave the two newest Avengers a tour of their new home, occasionally passing the mic along to Steve and Natasha to explain some SHIELD related things he hadn’t bothered to remember on his own. On the main floor, Natasha was just about ready to find an excuse to duck out when the elevator doors opened and you stepped out, your t-shirt and sweatpants traded for a dress that stopped above your knees.

“What’s going on here?” you questioned innocently, ignoring Natasha’s gaze on the flowy skirt of your outfit that exposed part of your upper thighs as you walked toward the group.

“You’re just in time to meet your new neighbors, Mrs. Widow,” Tony greeted you, introducing you to Wanda and Sam while you actively avoided meeting Natasha’s narrowed eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked through a clenched jaw once the group’s attention was elsewhere, following you into the kitchen.

“I was just going to head out for a bit to get some fresh air.” Your sweet smile suddenly shifted into something that Natasha knew all too well. “But first, I think I’ll get your new teammates something to drink.”

You turned and opened the fridge door, bending down to do the one thing you knew would make her snap, showing off your obvious lack of underwear. Her hand was around your arm in seconds, dragging you out of the kitchen and into the nearest bathroom. You hopped onto the counter while she locked the door, seeming not at all fazed at the boiling pot of anger evident in her expression.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

Her middle and ring fingers were in your mouth before you could respond, and you ran your tongue over them, biting down a bit as she pulled away and giggling as she forced your legs open.

“You’re wasting your time,” you gasped out as she pushed her fingers into you. “I’ve been ready for you since this morning.”

“Oh, you’re ready, are you?”

You nodded eagerly, your giddy grin shifting to a confused frown as she pulled away and reached for her belt buckle instead. Your eyes widened as she maneuvered the strap that she’d tied to her leg out into the open, her dry hand lifting your chin to force you to meet her gaze.

“When did you--?”

“You forget I’m always one step ahead of you.” She pulled you off the counter roughly and turned you around, pushing your dress up until only your breasts were covered. “You get too loud and you’ll pay for it later.”

A shaky groan fell past your lips as she slipped the toy into your wet folds, steadily rocking her hips against yours until you seemed to adjust to the length. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as she slammed into you once, twice, and a third time until she was suddenly pounding into you too fast for you to count each thrust.

“What’s the matter?” she cooed with fake concern over your muffled moans. “I thought you wanted to get fucked. You can’t handle me, can you baby?”

Your hand fell onto the counter as she grabbed your hair, pulling you up just enough to see yourself in the mirror. Sounds of pleasure escaped you at the sight of Natasha controlling you, a squeak slipping into the midst of it all when her free hand left your hip for a moment to slap your ass.

“You like watching Daddy fuck you like this don’t you? I bet you want Wanda and Sam to hear you, don’t you? Want them to hear you weak for me like this?”

“No, Daddy!” you choked out, your eyes closing as pressure began to build in your core.

“Natasha?”

You scrambled to stuff the fabric of your dress in your mouth as heavy footsteps came down the hall, fearing Natasha wouldn’t let you cum if you disobeyed her.

“Natasha, you in there?”

“Yeah, Steve. What’s up?” She dug her hand into your hip as she tugged on your hair a little harder, smirking at you in the mirror when your eyes opened again and moving her finger to her lips.

“We’re having a quick meeting in about ten minutes to introduce Sam and Wanda to the others and go over a few things.”

“Sounds good,” she replied as she shifted to start circling her fingers around your clit, chuckling at the way you began to shake in her hold. “I’ll meet you down there.”

The two of you waited in forced silence as Steve’s footsteps echoed down the hallway again, Natasha’s chuckles growing louder while you held your breath, willing your body not to give into release before you were given permission. Just when you thought you couldn’t hold on any longer, she leaned in to nibble on your lobe and--

“Make a mess, baby.”

Your vision blurred and your legs turned to jelly as you reached your limit, the skirt of your dress falling onto the counter again as you screamed out a final moan that turned into a mix of whimpers and groans. Natasha slowed her thrusts as she worked you through your orgasm, eventually pulling out and keeping a firm grip on your waist as she guided you to sit on the toilet. She quickly undid the strap of the toy while you attempted to catch your breath, biting her lip at the sight of your wet thighs.

“Get the handcuffs out and wait on the bed,” she ordered as she tossed the soaked length into your lap and zipped her pants, walking over to the door with a smirk. “And keep that pretty little dress on.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @nat-km-mh @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @messuhp @creepingwolfberry @natashadeservedmore

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x reader #black widow #avengers #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #avengers imagine #avengers fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

After reading your opinion on Molly Weasley, i want to know: What are you're opinions on the Weasley family? Besides Ron & Molly that is.

Five characters? In one post? Well, alright, here we go.

The Weasleys as a Whole

I’ve mentioned this before but JKR writes the Weasleys to clearly be a believable but ideal family. They’re all fiercely loyal, progressive per wizarding world standards, love each other and Harry deeply, and have this wonderful off-kilter joyous house where there’s always some rambunctious thing going on. 

Harry comes to associate the Weasleys with family and, personally, I believe a large part of him marrying Ginny boils down to it will make him a Weasley for real. 

That said, they’ve got some major issues. They’re very righteous people who, as a whole, will ice you out the moment they even suspect you do something that disagrees with them. You don’t even have to do it, what you did or didn’t do doesn’t even have to be something terrible or something bad, but god help you if the family decides they’re done with you. 

They’re very resentful of people like the Malfoys. This isn’t just because Lucius is a smarmy, pompous, ass (he is) or that he indirectly almost murdered Ginny but seems to mostly be because Lucius has so much money. All of their interactions seem to boil down to the money. More than this though, the Weasleys seem fully supportive of laws that... well, used against themselves would be a travesty but used against the likes of the Malfoys it’s about damn time.

They’re unquestioningly loyal to Dumbledore. Granted, most people we see in canon are, Dumbledore’s very very very good at convincing people he’s a saint. However, these guys are practically his cult member to the point where they do things like refuse to have Harry over the summer, even before Voldemort returned, because Dumbledore told them not to. 

They also never really adopt Harry into the family. Oh they give him a nice sweater, he comes over every once in a while to the house, he’s very good friends with Ron but he’s mostly treated just like that, a good friend. Now, there’s nothing wrong with this, except the way JKR sets it up we’re supposed to believe this is the family Harry found. It’s just that the family Harry’s found let’s him stay in a house with bars on his window where twelve-year-old Ron tells them, “Harry’s muggle family is really really awful” in a way that should have been raising red flags. Hermione practically lives at the Weasleys, Harry never does.

Now, are the Weasleys evil? No, far from it, they’re ordinary people who act in ways I’d expect ordinary people too. Technically they didn’t have to do anything more for Harry than they did, they didn’t have to hate Lucius Malfoy for better reasons, and they don’t have to be even slightly less worshipful of Dumbledore. They’re people, and they’re fine characters, but the overwhelming worship and love of the Weasleys we see across fandom does get on my nerves.

But you asked for individuals, so here we go.

 Arthur Weasley

Arthur is the epitome of “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” in the worst of ways and is, frankly, a giant awful joke to me. He’s the white kid you see going around with dread locks, a beanie the color of the Jamaican flag, smoking weed, and attempting to speak like Bob Marley 

Only, because he does it with muggle things, we’re supposed to find him funny and progressive.

Arthur is absolutely, albeit unwittingly, condescending in his love of muggle knickknacks. He has no idea how any of it actually works, not limited to how muggles could possible survive without the gold standard, but ardently believes he does because he can enchant the car to fly. Seriously, that he believes he’s an expert on muggle culture, as a pureblood wizard who heads an office in the ministry on it, is the worst part. His love of toasters comes across as, “Wow, look how cool it is that these poor little muggles made all this neat stuff. We should absolutely love the muggles because of it!” And that he heads an office in the ministry called “The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts” which is all about catching down Jackass style pranksters who think it would be hilarious of they enchanted toasters to bludgeon muggles to death...

Goddammit Arthur, why do you exist?

Right, otherwise, he’s got some pride issues going on. Part of the reason Percy is excommunicated is not so much that Percy doesn’t believe Harry, but because Percy dared to do better than Arthur in his own career. Arthur is stuck in his position as head of a joke of a department, he is an underling at its finest, and frankly likely only has that position because he’s a pureblood and the idea of putting a halfblood or even muggleborn at the head of a department dealing with muggles just made the higher ups shudder. (Don’t tell Arthur that though, he likes to think he’s not benefitting from nepotism). 

Arthur goes so far to accuse Percy as Fudge’s secretary as spying on him. Arthur, the guy who heads “Misuse of Muggle Artifacts”. Yeah, Arthur, I’m sure Fudge is really wasting his time using his straight laced secretary to find out all your dirty secrets. 

He also tends to see the world as very black and white. When Skeeter in book 4 writes an article after the Quidditch World Cup disaster complaining about the ministry’s lax security in enabling domestic terrorists to enter (something completely valid and true by the way) Arthur is so personally offended that both he and Percy go straight to the ministry to complain about Rita Skeeter and her daring to assume freedom of speech! HOW DARE SHE CALL THE MINISTRY’S NON-EXISTENT SECURITY AT THE WORLD CUP LAX! (To be fair, she also cited Arthur as having been in attendance at the event, a ministry employee, and having done nothing but, well, this is also true Arthur. You’re in a guerilla, underground, resistance movement. If I didn’t already think the Order was a joke this would kind of highlight it for me).

He’s also very resentful of Lucius Malfoy, and it seems to mostly be about the money. Arthur and Molly have a severe spending problem and actively resent that Lucius is swimming in money. That Arthur is ardently pleased about a law being passed in which the ministry without warrant can ransack Lucius Malfoy’s home... 

Well, Arthur, imagine the slippery slope if the government decides that it would like to search the Weasley home without warrant? In fact, he doesn’t even have to imagine it, as the beloved government in a few short years turns against him and then it’s all about how corrupt the ministry is. 

Arthur’s delightfully narrowminded, basically, and reminds us at nearly every opportunity.

Percy Weasley

Mostly, I just feel bad for Percy. Percy’s the son/brother that nobody likes and he’s painfully aware of that fact. He doesn’t fit in with the others, he has far too much ambition for the Gryffindor family and they resent him for it, and then he dares to say things like “I don’t know guys, Voldemort resurrecting from the dead after decades doesn’t sound plausible, we know Harry’s a little off kilter, and Dumbledore’s one shady dude”. Percy happens to be wrong about Voldemort resurrecting (and admits as much when the evidence is plainly visible), but he’s pretty on the money with the rest of it.

Regardless, growing up we see Ron constantly hating on Percy along with the rest of the siblings. I’m sure Percy is obnoxious, and certainly full of himself after making prefect and head boy, but he’s very clearly even before Order of the Phoenix the Least Favorite Brother (TM).

Then the Weasley family completely ices him out for a) getting a very high ranking position very quickly as Fudge’s secretary and b) not being gung ho about Dumbledore saying crazy things in the paper. Remember that to Percy Harry is Ron’s weird friend who seems to get into highly illegal activities every other week. From Percy’s point of view, it’s probably a matter of time before Harry becomes a crack head in Knockturn Alley (or given how behind the times wizards tend to be, an opium den). 

He’s constantly getting Ron into not only trouble but life threatening situations, is erratic and apparently a parseltongue of all things, and now Harry’s flipped his lid and saying that Voldemort has been resurrected after having gone through a very traumatic experience of watching a classmate somehow die. 

While we see Percy kind of (sort of)  make up with the family it’s clear that for Percy to have any relation with these people he’s the one who will always, ALWAYS, have to come crawling back on his knees and begging for forgiveness. It’s the Weasley way or the highway and I imagine, at some point probably a little after/during that epilogue, Percy will just slowly drift away because it’s just not worth it anymore.

Percy’s very much the black sheep of the family.

Fred and George Weasley

You all are going to kill me, but I actually don’t care in the slightest about Fred and George Weasley. This is because they basically have no personality aside from “funny”. 

They just have their weird, tandem, twin act and are either playing jokes on the school or else serving as Deus ex Machina in giving Harry magical items such as the Marauder’s Map for no apparent reason. The plot told them it was time, I guess. 

Their jokes, while not as bad as Sirius and James’ “Let’s sexually harrass Severus Snape by pantsing and beating him at the edge of Hogwarts lake” or Sirius’ “Let’s get Snape eaten by a werewolf!” are still often needlessly cruel and... kind of pointless. They harass Slytherin house constantly just because they happen to be Slytherins, they’re acceptable victims (which of course makes house tension that much worse). Harry gets sent a toilet seat in the hospital because... that’s funny? Har de har? 

They’re so indistinguishable from one another I routinely see people mistake which one got his ear chopped off and which one died. Because the point is, that we can’t tell the difference! It doesn’t matter who lived and who died because all we know is that Freorge is dead! 

Similarly, you see tons of fics around where character of the day ends up in this weird twincestuous relationship with Fred and George and it’s not only for a) that delightful twincest but b) because they’re such a singular unit that any attempt to pair one with somebody else feels weird. So you just get these porn fics about Fred and George being weird rapey teenagers who seem like they’d be more interested dating each other. 

Charlie Weasley

I really have no thoughts on Charlie. He raises dragons in Romania, the family loves him. Now, dragon raising feels like one of the most dangerous jobs in the Harry Potter universe, like Charlie had just gone and signed up to be a lumberjack but he seems to like it?

We really don’t see much of Charlie, he’s just the obligatory older Weasley son so that the Weasleys can be this ridiculously large family.

Bill Weasley

We see slightly more of Bill, but again, not enough to really leave an impression. We know that his marrying Fleur sent Molly into a complete state, and that they’re going to have awkward Christmas dinners forever because of it where Fleur just sits there and pretends not to loathe every second of Molly’s presence while Molly notes how bad it is that Victoire got stuck with that ugly pink hair instead of the Weasley red. 

Bill doesn’t seem to really do anything about this. He still marries Fleur, but we don’t really see a major confrontation where he tells the family “Look, I’m marrying her, so grow up.” So, I imagine he just tries to smile pleasantly and tells Fleur to just endure it for another few hours. He loves his family, his family’s great, but they only have to see Fleur once a year at Christmas.

Ginny Weasley

Ginny is weird. She’s this weird, frankly, almost personality-less void whose sole obsession in life seems to be marrying Harry. She and Harry end up in the world’s weirdest relationship and I honestly have no idea how people ship it other than canon told them to.

Ginny’s... well, first off, she’s very much in love with an idea. She had always worshipped Harry Potter but then he personally saves her life in what was a horrifically traumatic year and so that feeling just grows even more. Despite being Ron’s sister, she barely seems to know Harry, and everything she seems to like about it are just things she made up.

I imagine her and Harry’s marriage will be littered with affairs on her end. Not divorce though, because Harry would never admit his wife is having affairs on him all the time even if someone directly confronted him. Harry also won’t admit he’s gay. 

More than though we get hints of a personality. Ginny’s a fiery red-head tomboy with a temper. But... Well, it’s only ever hints. She never felt like a real person to me. She has I think one throwaway line about the Chamber of Secrets incident and how it personally affected her. We’re told she’s great at the bat boogey hex so we know she’s a fiery independent woman.

She feels more like a character sheet than an actual person. 

Whenever she’s around I always had this nagging question in my head where I ask why Ginny’s here. She has a lot of potential but nothing’s ever done with her. And when something is, it’s to get her into this bizarre relationship with Harry where he imagines there’s a green rage monster in his chest that loves her skin.

Okay Harry, if you say so. 

TL;DR: The Weasleys aren’t evil or anything, I’m not on Team Bash Them All, but they are shortsighted, ordinary, people who don’t deserve to be worshipped as all that is good in this world.

#ask #anon #harry potter #headcanons #the weasley family #arthur weasley #charlie weasley #bill weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #ginny weasley #anti hinny #anti weasley #anti arthur weasley #anti fred weasley #anti george weasley #anti bill weasley #anti molly weasley #anti harry potter #anti ginny weasley