#and I come from a culture that had always grown their own food until the late 20th century shamed us away from that

[xenokattz]

I called in sick today so I could muck around in the garden.

The sun came out at around 0900 and I like to think it was the universe telling me I made the right choice.

I found the first spears of asparagus pushing out of the ground. There were 3 fat fuzzy bumblebees going wild on pussywillow pollen. Last year's daikon and broccoli left seeds that are sprouting independently. I planted sitaw and cassoulet bean starts in the greenhouse. I staked the new cherry and pear tree branches so they'll grow en espalier. I told the 3 yr old peach tree that it's the prettiest princess in the yard and the ancient Asian pear that it was a fucking champion for having about 100 visible blossoms despite half its trunk rotting away. There was random garlic growing everywhere so I relocated them beside the strawberries for pest control and company. I apologized while viciously pruning the raspberries and swore at the asshole buttercups that keep invading the bee flower patch.

Now I'm finishing a negroni and eating leftover baked pasta. Self care is different for everyone. Mine looks like rolling around in dirt.

#home produce #i don't like to use homesteading #too much colonial baggage #and I come from a culture that had always grown their own food until the late 20th century shamed us away from that #anyway gardens are my happy place #indigenous farming techniques #permaculture #intercropping #solarpunk

[captain-mj]

I really love your Selkie!Soap au. Maybe Ghost could discover a bit more about Selkie culture, and the generational trauma that Soap might have?

YES!! Love this! Direct continuation of the previous post

Ghost brought Soap a deer. Soap stared at it for a minute before laughing. "What do we do now?"

Ghost hummed. "I'll clean it and cook it for you." And you'll fall in love with me.

"I see." Soap smiled. "Need any help?"

"No, I got it. It's bloody work but if you want sit with me..."

So they sat together in the little shed, both mostly quiet but the radio was playing. Soap watched him work and Ghost tried not to glance at him too often. He wore a surgical mask but that was more for cleanliness than anything else.

They ate well, both of them sitting next to each other as the sun set.

Soap ended up stealing some of Ghost's off his plate despite there being plenty of food still in the kitchen but it was fine. He glared at Soap who only smiled at him.

A ringtone sounded and Soap froze. It sounded like a personal one.

Ghost didn't move for a moment, waiting for Soap to pick it up. Soap just stared for a minute, picking at the food for a second before remembering himself and answering.

"Hey, dad."

Ghost perked up immediately. He had heard next to nothing about Soap's dad. He wondered if he was a selkie too. Or something else.

"Yes, sir. I am on leave, but my..." There was a pause before Soap swallowed. "My coat holder commanded I come with him."

Ghost frowned a little, but he stayed quiet.

"Yes. It's new. I haven't had... Yes, sir." Soap was visibly wilting. "I am... He's commanding me back. Sorry, sir." He hung up after a second and quietly put his phone down.

"I take it your dad is not... good?"

"No. I hope you two never have to talk, but its best he doesn't know we're close." Soap rubbed his arm, looking tiny and cold. Ghost scooted closer.

"Are you alright?"

"It's how he always is. He was excited someone has my coat again. That I'm at your mercy. He's a fucking prick." Soap looked down. "My mom can't leave him or else I'd never talk to him again."

"He... has her coat?"

"Yeah. I tried to find it. Took a couple slaps for it. But I never could. Swear I tore that place apart looking."

Ghost pulled Soap closer. "I see."

"He's such a bawbag."

"Is she the only selkie you know?"

"No. I know a few. All of them are like her. Trapped in their positions. Either as a spouse or caretaker or worker or..." Soap sighed. "No choice. No control. Stuck until either the coatholder dies or we get lucky."

Ghost was quiet for a while before reaching over and pulling him closer. "You... want this, right?"

"I do. Don't worry. You gave it back. You're a good man." He leaned into him. "My sister got lucky. She's just human. My other sister is a selkie but dad... protects her a little more. I think it's because she's the baby."

"Coatholder. Is that what you guys call them?"

"Not the most creative name, but yeah. Gets the message across. For a while Master was used but... yeah, it felt just a little too degrading." Soap hummed and shoved the plate towards him. "He'll want to meet you. I can try to lie and keep you from him. I don't... I don't want him to know it's my choice. If he knows..." Soap started to breath heavier, holding on to Ghost.

"Johnny, you're okay. He can't do anything to you."

"It's not me I'm worried about." Soap said softly. "If he gets upset he takes it on her and..."

Ghost winced. This entire situation reminding him just a little too much of his own time growing up. "If your mom had left your dad, would you have grown up a seal?"

"No. She likely would've abandoned me." Soap answered honestly. "It sucks but that's reality. I would've been left with him and my sisters. Can't blame her. She didn't choose to have me."

Ghost frowned and gently touched his chin, making him look at him. He smiled awkwardly. "You know when I came back from the military, the first thing I did was wait in my mom's kitchen."

"Why?"

"For my dad to hit her. He did eventually. He always did. It was all the excuse I need. I dragged him outside and beat him to hell for it."

Soap looked surprised. "Damn."

"Mom kicked me out for it. But she didn't let him back in the house either and that's all that mattered to me." Ghost took a deep breath. "I should meet your dad."

"Simon. You can't beat up my dad."

"I could, but I just think I should meet him. I want to meet your mom too."

Soap didn't look convinced but he nodded. "Alright, Si. Alright." He kissed his hand gently, looking tired. "Mind if we go to bed?"

Ghost hummed. "Course not. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll be in the spare room, of course." Soap smiled at him, a hint of teasing there.

Ghost followed him like a shadow until he got to his door and then went to his own room.

Once he was in bed, he stared up at the ceiling quietly. He thought of Soap's mom, the gentle voice on the phone and how Soap shrank back.

It must be hard. Trusting Ghost of all people with so much. Even now, the thought occurred to him that it wouldn't be very hard for him to take the coat back. Or even just hurt him. They were alone in the middle of the woods.

And Soap still trusted him.

If it was anyone else, he'd call them an idiot for trusting the Ghost, but he knew as well as Johnny did that Ghost was harmless to him.

Did those other selkies think their human was harmless? Was their first meeting them taking the coat? Demanding so much from them?

Someone had done this before. Soap had mentioned someone had taken it before. On purpose. Had they hurt him? Forced him to do anything?

The idea of a younger Soap being controlled the way Ghost had read about in those stories made him feel sick.

He got up at some point and like the needle on a compass, he pointed towards his north star.

Soap was probably asleep. He also used the spare for a reason. Ghost shouldn't bother him. There were boundaries for a reason.

Soap's sad eyes popped back into his head. The distant look when he talked about the past or the others he knew.

He didn't knock in case he was asleep.

Soap jerked up immediately. "Jesus, Ghost you scared me. Something wrong?"

"Scoot over."

"What?"

"Scoot over." Ghost repeated, staring at him. Both their eyes reflected the light, both finding each other easily.

Once Soap did move over, Ghost climbed in with him. He pulled him safely to his chest and held him.

"No one is ever going to touch you again." Ghost mumbled into his hair. "I'm never going to let something like that happen to you again."

"You don't even know what they did." Soap knew exactly what Ghost was talking about, like always.

"Doesn't matter." Ghost squeezed him. "Never again."

Soap let Ghost hold him, putting his head on Ghost's shoulder. "Get some sleep, Simon. I know you must be tired."

Ghost slept better knowing Soap was safe with him.

#call of duty modern warfare ii #call of duty #cod #soapghost #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #Selkie Soap #Changeling Ghost

[thatlittleegyptologist]

Was meat unusually expensive in premodern egypt (relative to other food)? I suppose there's not much pasture just intensely arable floodplain and not terribly hospitable desert

I'm assuming that by 'premodern' Egypt you mean Ancient Egypt, because 'modern' Egypt starts in 1805, and they knew what they were doing in both time periods just one's a lot further away from the modern era than the other! There's more than enough pasture to farm animals. The Egyptians do it today just fine, and the desert has never really been a problem for them due to farming methods like irrigation. They can, did, and still do, make as much farmland as is necessary for them to grow food or do animal husbandry.

The problem lies in how much land the Ancient Egyptian could personally own, which of course depended entirely on your profession and social status. Owning more land was the prerogative of those who had the means to do it, thus those with lower incomes or who were lower in society didn't have a lot of land to use. Ergo, they would mostly use it to farm crops and smaller livestock that would serve them better overall. They're not big meat eaters anyway. The modern world wasn't either, until farming became easier, and big companies bought a lot of land to use, and thus meat production became faster and cheaper. Meat, if anything, is too cheap and readily available now that we take it for granted that it must have always been so.

Cattle, for instance, were extremely expensive in the New Kingdom due to the way they need to be kept. At market you could expect to pay 141 deben for a mature Ox and 20 deben for a young one. A deben is a copper weight of about 91g (3.2oz for those on the Imperial system), and you'd have to make a barter of things that were equal to that weight. So a person in Ancient Egypt is going to have to make up, for a fully grown Ox, 12.8kg (451.2oz) in item weight to buy it. That's a lot of stuff for an Egyptian that likely doesn't have a lot stuff they own in the first place. Then they've got to find a place to have the Ox live and eat, which is another expense.

When a fisherman was paid one and a quarter khar of emmer/barley grain per Egyptian week (10 days) and a couple of Henu jars of honey, that's not a lot to go on. A khar (ḫr) is a measure of volume at 76.8L, and the Henu (hnw) is also a volume measure at 0.48L. This is what they were given to live on alongside anything they could grow or keep at home, which would be mostly vegetables. Not only would this be their food source, but it's also something that could be weighed into shꜣt (Shematy), ḳdt (Kite), or dbn (Deben) and used to buy other goods at the market. But they couldn't do that with all of it, mostly because they needed to eat.

So, what do you do with your limited space, on a limited income? You grow vegetables, and keep smaller livestock (maybe a goat or some ducks/geese) that you could either use the milk from or cull for meat when you needed to, without costing yourself a fortune. You can also go to the Nile and get yourself some fish, or go to market and purchase some of the fish there. These would be cheaper in weight than cattle, and more readily available. Even a donkey, valued at 7 shꜣt, is far cheaper, as there are 12 shꜣt to a dbn. You can see how it's a fraction of the price. Animals that require more land and more care, are going to be more expensive than those that do not. Their meat will be too, due to the way they're raised. If you're an Egyptian who didn't earn enough for this, you're going to look elsewhere. If you're an Egyptian who had a lot of land, then you're going to keep a lot of cattle and probably eat the meat from them.

So, no, it's not unusually expensive for the time. The lack of meat in their diet is down to the environment (personally didn't have enough land to have a cow on), it being easier to get meat from smaller animals or fish, and culturally they're just not big meat eaters because vegetables and bread are easier to come across.

[strayfoxxchan]

Pairing: Bang Chan (Chris) x f!reader (Y/N)

Genre: Fluff, Soulmate AU

Content Warning: Mentions of Nicotine Use, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption

A/N: Hi Stayblr! This is my first post here and is likely to be a multi-chapter endeavor (I have 5 chapters written, yikes). It’s a collaboration between myself (the writer) and my husband and sister (who had all the ideas). Sorry in advance, this series is going to be long!

Chapter 1

Seoul was something else, another world entirely separate from the country she called home. The towering city skyline mingling with winding streets and hilly suburbs was like a maze to explore. The people, the food, the culture…  Maybe it would be good for her to get out of her comfort zone. So when the company she was working for had an opening to transfer to Korea, she jumped headfirst into it without looking back. 

It certainly wasn’t glamorous at first. The sum total of all the Korean she knew was learned from watching K-dramas and listening to K-pop. Moving into a corporate-owned apartment was harder than Y/N would have expected, as she attempted to explain to the movers in broken Korean that her apartment was on the 12th floor. Learning her bus route was an unmitigated disaster for a time. Speaking to her colleagues resulted in some pretty hilarious misunderstandings. But the longer she was there, the easier it became. 

Y/N still had hard nights. She didn’t leave home for more than groceries, work, and a cigarette down in the courtyard. It was a monotonous life, to be sure. She was a bit shy, and most of her coworkers were much younger than her. She was pushing 30 and had a hard time making friends with all these kids who had grown up in such a different environment than she had. But, she enjoyed her job, and her apartment was certainly nicer than the one back home, so Y/N couldn’t complain too much. 

–

Y/N tended to keep a fairly tight schedule: 

7:00 Wake up. Shower. Makeup. 8:00 Bagel. Smoke. Bus. 9:00 Work. 6:00 Bus. Smoke. 7:00 Dinner. Netflix. 9:00 Draw. Relax. 10:00 Wind down. Get ready for bed. 11:00 Stare at the ceiling until sleep eventually comes to visit. 

During her morning smoke break, her carefully crafted schedule slowly began to unravel. As she rushed downstairs, bagel and cigarette in hand, she was met with a not altogether unfamiliar sight, but an unwelcome one: rain. Of course, it had to rain. Of course, she had forgotten her umbrella upstairs. Of course, it was a day that she had a presentation. 

“Fuck you, you fucking fuck,” Y/N mumbles to herself, maybe a little louder than intended. Normally, Y/N would love a rainy day. It didn’t rain much where she grew up, and she had always loved the way the rain seemed to wash away the dirt and grime of life in a city. Steeling herself for a bad hair day and a soggy cigarette, she takes a step out from under the shelter of the building.

Mysteriously, she doesn’t get wet. The rain seems to part around her.

“우산을 잊으셨나요?” A chuckle rings out behind Y/N, and she spins to meet her savior. As soon as Y/N makes eye contact, she spins directly back around, shutting her eyes tightly and willing herself to wake up from this bizarre and life-like dream. 

“Oh, fuck??” It takes every ounce of dexterity in her body not to drop her bagel on the ground.

“Y-you… okay?” The warm voice speaks up again.

“Yeah, yeah, just… trying to figure out why Christopher Bahng is standing behind me with an umbrella.”

“Ah… 네…” Chris giggles, a tinge of awkward nervousness sneaking into his voice. “Sorry, Yeah… I just… I see you out here often and I am convinced you don’t know how to check the weather. I don’t think I have ever seen you with an umbrella.”

Y/N turns on her heel to look him in the eye again, forgetting he was a little closer than she remembered. “You… see me often? Are you stalking me?” She is mostly joking. But how would THE Bang Chan see her here often when she had never once seen him?

Seeming to read her thoughts, Chris replies quickly. “I live here, too. My bedroom is right next to the window,” he motions up at the building. “I see you take your smoke break every morning,” he pauses for a moment. “You know that’s not–”

“Not good for you, I know, I know. Bad habits. Old dog. Y/N,” she introduces herself, putting her bagel in her mouth and holding her now-free hand toward him.

“Chris, Christopher, Bang, Bang Chan, Chan, Channie, but you already knew that apparently,” he takes her hand and shakes it. “Sorry if I spooked you.” He scratches his head.

“No, no, that’s alright. I just wasn’t expecting my b– I just wasn’t expecting you to show up here,” she says after pulling the bagel back out of her mouth. He didn’t need to know he was her bias.

“Come on, let’s get you your smoke break,” Chris ushers her to her usual spot in the courtyard, careful to keep the umbrella over them both as she lights up. 

For a while, they sit in awkward silence before she finally musters up the courage to say anything. “For the record, no, I don’t check the weather. What’s life without a little surprise?”

“I would guess that I’ve given you the biggest surprise of your life this morning,” that smile could have parted the rain clouds easily.

“Who doesn’t want to start their morning with a mild heart attack,” Y/N laughs. “Thank you for,” she waves her hand at the umbrella, “this.”

Chris smiles shyly, a light flush rising on his cheeks. Y/N might have mistaken the flush for the cool air wrapping them tightly. “Nah, it’s nothing. I’ve maybe been waiting for an excuse to talk to you.” The cigarette falls out of her hand as she coughs and splutters. Chris jumps up, patting her back. “Y/N?? Are you okay? Breath,” he strokes her hair as she struggles momentarily.

“An excuse to talk to ME?” Y/N says between choking fits. 

“Despite how it might seem, it wasn’t my intention to almost kill you twice in one day,” Chris laughs as she dramatically clutches at her chest. He sits a bit closer to Y/N now that the coughing has calmed down, rubbing her back with one hand while continuing to shield her from the rain. Y/N stiffens a bit before calming into his hand. This whole moment feels surreal. “But yeah, just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean a random girl smoking at exactly 8 am every single day under my window wouldn’t pique my interest, even just a little. It’s Y/N’s turn to blush. 

The bus pulls up across the courtyard and Y/N suddenly remembers she is not, in fact, on a date with her bias, and does have a very important presentation to get to. Chris glances past her and hands her the umbrella. “You can give it back later. Have a good day doing… whatever it is you do, mystery girl.” He gets up, pats her head, and dashes to the entryway of the building, shielding his head from the rain. 

–

Chris heads back up to the dorm, his heart racing. He couldn’t quite tell if it was from the sprint through the rain or the adrenaline rush of having spoken to Y/N after all this time. He was tired. He had been in the studio until almost 4 am this morning and had only gotten a few hours of sleep before waking for the day’s schedule. Honestly, it had been pure luck that they met (and pure luck that he’d had his umbrella). He hadn’t planned on… well, ever meeting her. He didn’t have much time for flirting between hours spent working on music and seemingly endless schedules and fleeting visits and dinners with friends. Had he not run out of the dorm for a quick breakfast, he might not have come across her in the courtyard.

She was prettier in person. The details of her face were usually lost to the distance from his 10th-floor bedroom window. Up close, her skin was soft, her eyes big and round. She didn’t bother with clean, fresh idol makeup, the dark shadow around her eyes somehow made their unique color all that more striking. Her business suit had been black (probably his favorite color) and the shirt peeking out from the lines of her suit collar had been a lovely shade of burgundy. She felt like autumn. The pencil skirt and sheer black tights served to lengthen her frame, though she was quite short. And those heels…

Chris shakes his head, trying to dust away the wandering thoughts. He had too much to do today to be distracted. He needed a clear mind to get through today’s interviews and performances. He put her from his mind, though the feeling of her hair on his fingertips lingered.

–

The presentation went off without a hitch, albeit a bit slower than Y/N had practiced. She hadn’t prepared with the intention of having a wandering mind from the events of the morning. The rest of the day is just as agonizingly slow. Y/N and her colleagues have worked out a silly system: they speak to her in English, and she speaks to them in Korean. They correct each other when the need arises and it seems to be working out better than expected. Communication is becoming easier every day. But today, Y/N seems to continue to forget everything she had learned up until this point. The whole day has felt like one of those dreams where each time you take a step, you seem to never move forward. 

Why would Bang Chan ever want to talk to someone as boring (and old and normal) as her? He seems to be surrounded by beautiful, talented idols, and one would think that he could have his pick of the bunch– she’s nothing special. She doesn’t have money, fame, or any special talent to speak of. And when it comes to Korean beauty standards or even western beauty standards… Well, she doesn’t have that either. She is exceedingly normal. Y/N decides not to dwell on it. She would drive herself crazy thinking of all the how’s and what’s and why’s. 

As the day comes to a close, Y/N gathers her things and says her goodbyes. She pulls out the umbrella and makes her way to the bus. The bus glides along the streets of the glittering rain-soaked city. Thoughts of Christopher’s smiling, dimpled face and big warm hands on her upper back keep her mind in a slightly confused daze. And finally, she is home. 

Y/N disembarks the bus and makes her way back to her spot in the courtyard on autopilot, pulling her pack of cigarettes from her purse.

“Hi,” the voice breaking the misty quiet nearly causes her to jump out of her skin. 

“Chris,” she clutches her chest in a mirror of her earlier start. “You’ll bring me to an early grave, sir.” He beams in a self-satisfied way. 

“I am here to reclaim my umbrella,” he pats the spot next to him, “and to ask how your day was?” His heart picks up pace, only just enough to be noticeable.

Y/N smirks at him, taking her place on the damp concrete and relinquishing ownership of the umbrella. The two sit and talk for what feels like hours, about everything and nothing. She explains to Chris the nuances of being a graphic designer in a country whose language doesn’t quite come naturally to her, and he could talk forever about the kids and his music. They spend just as much time laughing as they do chatting. 

#bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #chris bang #christopher bang #christopher bahng #skz scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #skz

[cosplayinamerica]

Over the last decade Atlanta’s reputation as a hub for fandom and geek culture has grown.  Much of this growth is driven by the success of major conventions like DragonCon and MomoCon as well as the presence of major Hollywood film and television production teams around the city. Co-founders Tolden Williams, aka Troop Brand and his wife, Stephanie Lindo Williams, still felt like there was something missing, especially when it came to nightlife. So as the peak of the pandemic faded, they created Trap Sushi, an incredibly popular bimonthly celebration of anime, music, Japanese culture, food, and, of course, Atlanta itself.

“We used to always hang out up and down Edgewood Avenue in Atlanta, and visit the performance venues, clubs, and bars, but when Covid hit, all the places that we really enjoyed in Atlanta shut down,” said Stephanie, reflecting on the loss of major entertainment businesses and spaced during the pandemic. “We would just watch them topple one by one. So when everything started opening up, we knew there was a void now. So we were like, ‘Let’s throw something ourselves.’”

Stephanie and Tolden were particularly interested in establishing a space for fellow anime fans looking for fun activities to do year round.

Stephanie shared, “For anime, you do have MomoCon, Anime Weekend Atlanta, and other cons, but those are only once a year, unless you travel across the country to other conventions. We wanted something recurring here in Atlanta.”

Both Stephanie and Tolden had their own unique story of how they got into fandom, and how it’s impacted their lives. For Stephanie she grew up in Atlanta with friends who were already into anime and Japanese culture.

Thinking back on her youth, Stephanie said, “My best friends growing up are Vietnamese, and they were really into anime and manga. So that’s how I was exposed growing up, and I was watching a bunch of girly high school anime and reading Chobits and stuff like that. I’ve just kept at it over the years.”

Tolden’s environment in Mississippi was quite different from Stephanies coming from a smaller town.

Thinking back to his youth, Tolden said “My first introduction to anime was watching cartoons on Saturday morning. I later found out many were anime. I then went to a thrift shop with my mom, and something drew me to this VHS tape in the store. It turned out to be Akira, which is one of the first Japanese movies to break out in America.”

When asked if Tolden felt alone in his love of anime in his hometown, he replied “I definitely did until I came across other fans. It’s funny how your love for things will introduce you to others and create bonds. I found two other people who were into anime like I was, and they are still my closest friends to this day.”

This sense of community found through fandom, and especially anime conventions, was a key driver for Stephanie and Tolden in creating Trap Sushi.

Tolden recalled, “Stephanie took me to my first anime con Anime Weekend Atlanta. I’d never gone to an anime convention in my life, but I’ve been an avid reader of manga and watcher of anime for years. So at my first convention I’m mind blown. This is everything I love all in one place? How long has this been going on? It was very surprising. Then I’m like wait, this is only once a year? No this is not [often] enough.”

Now Trap Sushi welcomes hundreds of fellow anime fans to celebrate their love of all things anime and Japanese culture. In the process of hosting Trap Sushi events, Stephanie and Tolden recognized they were serving a major sub-community in fandom as well.

Stephanie noted “Trap Sushi is open to everybody. It’s all inclusive. But we have noticed that the community it really speaks to a lot is the black anime and cosplay community. That’s a whole sub-community to itself that kind of gets overlooked sometimes, and I know that group found a lot of solace in having a place where they can let go and be like ‘ok, here at Trap Sushi we can really get loose and be free.’”

Read full story https://cosplayinamerica.com/trap-sushi-atlanta-ga/.

Trap Sushi's next event is this Thursday 3/23/23 in Atlanta https://shor.by/doEW

Writer : Michael "Zippy" Miller for Cosplay in America

Photo: @jsncamera for Trap Sushi

Read full story https://cosplayinamerica.com/trap-sushi-atlanta-ga/.

Trap Sushi's next event is this Thursday 3/23/23 in Atlanta https://shor.by/doEW

Writer : Michael "Zippy" Miller for Cosplay in America

Photo: @jsncamera for Trap Sushi

#Trap Sushi #atlanta

[friskynotebook]

Till There Was You

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Asian plus size f!reader

A professor!Obi x librarian!reader modern!AU

cw: food, age gap

Summary: Fall semester seems to be the same as always—until a handsome professor scares you half to death.

A note on the Asian rep in this 'verse: In this modern AU, the reader is written to be Asian, plus-sized, and female/AFAB. The amount of Asian representation will vary in the different instalments—some will be based heavily in the reader’s culture, others will not. The reader’s culture is based on my own experiences as a mixed-race Chinese woman and is not meant to represent the vast array of Asian cultures.

I also want to give a special shout out to @obiknights and her work Borrowing Privileges—it's one of my favourite professor!Obi fics and it's inspired my own AU. Thank you for your talent and friendship, Brit ❤️

The title comes from the song "Till There Was You" from The Music Man. You can listen to the late, great Rebecca Luker's divine version here.

Also on AO3!

Chinatown AU masterlist

“You do know you have an office, right?”

You set the sickeningly sweet Starbucks drink in front of head librarian Bail Organa, perched in front of a computer at the library services desk. Classes were about to begin at Coruscant University—the period everyone working at the campus library referred to as the calm before the storm.

“Yeah, but the third floor is like an island—it’s so far away. How am I supposed to keep up with all the campus gossip?” Bail replied, taking a sip of his liquified sugar. “Oh, that hits the spot. Thanks.”

“How do you even stomach that?” you asked, sipping your own, slightly more dignified pumpkin spice latte. “Isn’t your blood mostly sugar by now?”

“Not according to my doctor,” he teased. “Still healthy as a horse.”

You rolled your eyes and plopped down in the high wheelie chair beside him. “How you aren’t sick every day is beyond me.”

“Says the woman drinking her third pumpkin spice latte this week.”

“Leave me and my inner white girl alone,” you retorted with no real heat. As you logged into your staff account, something caught the corner of your eye.

“What are those books doing over there?” you asked, nodding towards the cart full of books behind you both—an unusual sight, especially when the normally-organized Bail is on duty and refusing to stay in his office.

Bail swallowed down another mouthful of what barely qualified as coffee. “Two of the elevators were down yesterday and we couldn’t reshelve those.”

You frowned. “But the other two were still working, right?”

He gave a sheepish grin. “Well . . . those books are going to the fifth floor . . .”

“Oh come on!” you groaned, throwing your head back in exasperation. “You’re a grown man!”

“The philosophy stacks are scary!” he defended. “They’re shunted off in that dark corner with the lights that never work—”

“That you can put in a maintenance request for at any time—”

“Assuming they’ll even come,” Bail raised a brow. 

He had you there. You sighed. “I think I saw the maintenance crew leaving the elevator bay on my way in. You man the desk and I take these back to the stacks?”

“Deal,” he grinned. “You’re the best!”

“And don’t you forget it,” you smirked back, sliding off the chair. You grabbed your coffee, placed it on the cart, and made your way to the now-fixed elevators.

______________________________________________________________

The fifth floor was normally pretty quiet and, for lack of a better term, dead. Even when the campus was in the thick of exam season, the fifth floor was home to the silent study wing and individual silent study rooms—which, according to Bail, only added to the creepy vibe of the floor. Now, however, only a handful of professors and TAs milled around, picking out some required texts for their fall semester classes.

As you made your way to the corner with the philosophy stacks, you took note of the flickering light next to another that had gone completely out. Maybe Bail did have a reason to be creeped out.

Not that you’d ever admit that to him.

With a sigh, you set up the cart and got to work, taking sips of coffee as you went along—until you got to a book that belonged on the top shelf.

And you realized you had left your step ladder down by the library services desk.

“Shit,” you muttered, taking another sip of coffee as you thought about what to do.

Being 5’2” on a good day, you often had to get . . . creative with reaching things above your height. Crossing your arms, you eye up the stacks. Maybe if I’m quick enough, I can use the shelves as a ladder. Like Super Mario Bros. Or something.

It was worth a try, at any rate.

Grabbing the book, you climbed on the stacks, placing one foot on the first shelf and another foot on the second shelf, praying it would support your weight. I look like some deranged Australian spider.

You reached up to the top shelf, sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth as you strained, finally getting the book back in place.

“Are you alright?”

If you were more generous to yourself, you’d say the elegant, clipped British accent slightly startled you.

In reality? It scared the shit out of you and almost caused you to fall off the shelves.

Catching yourself just in time, you carefully climbed back down and adjusted your t-shirt, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

And then you found yourself looking at the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen.

He was older than you, maybe late thirties? Definitely taller than you, though that wasn’t hard to accomplish. He had thick auburn hair with fringe threatening to fall in his face, with a matching beard that only highlighted his strong jawline and the amused smirk on his lips.

And his eyes. Oh, those eyes.

Bright blue, piercing, and framed by gentle crow’s feet, you felt he was staring right into your soul.

Kind of like you were staring at him.

Too late, you remembered to respond. “I’ll, uh, manage.”

The smirk grew as he glanced up at the top shelf. “You call that managing?”

“I call that getting creative,” you teased, turning back to your books. “I would have been fine if someone hadn’t scared the living daylights out of me.”

When you looked back at the mystery man, you could see a hint of concern and remorse clouding the amusement in his eyes. Feeling your heart clench for reasons you didn’t understand, you hurried to say something else before he could respond.

“But feeling your heart race is the best way to know you’re still alive, right?” You cringe internally. God, that was stupid.

Your lame joke worked—any trace of sadness was gone when you caught another glimpse at him. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?” you asked, remembering it was still, in fact, your job to help patrons.

He furrowed his brow, as if he also remembered what he was supposed to be doing here. “Yes, I’m trying to find some Russell books, B—”

“Bertrand, I’m familiar,” you nodded. Finally that minor in philosophy was coming in handy. “His stuff’s in the next aisle. I can walk you over, if you’d like.”

“Are you sure that won’t be too much trouble?” he asked.

“No trouble at all—it’s on my way,” you replied, pushing the cart along.

“So, do you often find yourself scaling the shelves like Tom Cruise?” he grinned, cutting his eyes over to you.

You snorted. “I doubt I looked as cool as him just now. I would have gone with a drunk monkey.”

“Well, I was trying to be kind.”

“And to think I’m here helping you out of the kindness of my heart,” you grinned, pulling up to the section with Bertrand Russell’s works.

“Is that what we’re calling it now? I thought it was part of your duty as an—” he glanced down at the badge hanging down from your pin-adorned lanyard. “—assistant librarian.”

“Ah, but you missed the fine print,” you chided, shelving more books.

He frowned. “Oh?”

“See, my duty only extends to patrons who don’t mock the librarians as they do their very important work.”

“Like testing the strength of the bookshelves?”

“Precisely.”

You both fell into a companionable silence as he looked for his books and you continued shelving—and if it took you longer than usual to shelve, well, how would he know?

After he spent three whole minutes staring at a shelf with a deeply furrowed brow, you decided to help him out.

“Having a hard time there?”

“How do you people find anything in this blasted library?” he muttered.

You raised a brow. “Isn’t this kind of your old stomping grounds? You give off big philosophy professor energy”

He glanced over. “What makes you say that?”

“Why else would a British guy be looking for Bertrand Russell’s finest work in a campus library before classes even begin?” You turned to him with a smirk, one hand on your hip.

He looked taken aback, almost as if he was . . . impressed? No, not a chance. “You got me,” he nodded. “Nice work.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

“If you must know, as much as I love being in the library, I don’t spend much time in the stacks. I’ve never been fond of the Dewey decimal system.” He grabbed the elusive book.

“Really? Because you look like you would be its biggest fan,” you teased back, though you know it’s not entirely true—you doubted Melvil Dewey had a trim, athletic figure or beautiful blue eyes.

“Very funny,” he drawled, snatching up The Conquest of Happiness. “I think that’s the last book.”

“Looks like I’m done here too,” you replied, gesturing to your empty cart, which only held your also-empty coffee cup.

He nodded towards the elevator bank. “Shall we?”

______________________________________________________________

Bail looked up when you and the handsome professor returned to the library services desk. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, as I live and breathe!”

The mystery man—Obi-Wan—broke out into a wide grin, greeting Bail with a hug when he came around the desk.

“You two know each other?” you asked, tossing the cup in the recycling.

“We go way back,” Bail confirmed. “Finally decided to join us on the dark side, huh?”

Before you could question what he said, your friend Kali rushed over to the desk. 

“Can you cover the reserves desk for me for a bit? The pita I got from Twiggs is not agreeing with me,” she pleaded.

“Go ahead,” Bail nodded. “I’ll check Obi-Wan out myself.”

“Alright,” you agreed, turning to Obi-Wan. “It was nice meeting you, professor.”

He grinned back, his eyes sparkling. “Until next time,” he replied, saying your name.

You tried to ignore the flash of warmth in your belly at the sound of his honey-rich voice saying your name as you walked away.

No-pressure tags (please message me if you want to be added or removed!): @obiknights @wickedscribbles

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x f!reader #obi-wan x f!reader #Obi Wan Kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #Obi Wan Kenobi x f!reader #obi wan x f!reader #fanfic #fic #Star Wars fic #my writing

[tencrowns]

An American Witch’s Herbal: Calendula

Calendula officinalis

The following images are from my garden a few years ago, and are variety ‘Resina,’ grown from seed by me. (Seeds originally purchased through Baker Creek, but these things seed prolifically!) I wish I had more photos, but these seem to be all I took and with all the landscaping changes we’ve done I haven’t bothered to plant more until I get the planning a little more settled.

Common Names:     Calendula, Pot Marigold, Bride of the Sun, Drunkard, Goldes, Holigolde, Husbandman’s Dial, Marygold, Ruddes, Summer’s Bride

Type:     Annual

Element:     Fire

Astrological:     Sun

Magical Uses:     protection, prophetic dreams, legal matters, psychic powers

Botanical Family:     Asteraceae

Region of Origin:     Southern Europe

The genus name Calendula comes from the same Latin root word as calendar.

Growth and Care

When older or European texts refer to marigold, it’s usually not the ruffly orange Tagetes they’re referring to, but rather the daisylike Calendula. This leads to a great deal of confusion for some people, especially as the two flowers are culturally used in similar fashions and both have a distinctive fragrance more pungent than flowery that seems to keep pests at bay. 

Rambunctious in the garden, it is incredibly easy to grow will eagerly and frequently reseed if given the opportunity. Calendula bloom in shades of yellow and orange throughout the summer and well into the fall. If you are growing calendula specifically for its medicinal properties, I recommend the cultivar ‘Resina,’ found in my own garden. It’s a bit of a plain jane, but you’ll get a pleasant mix of shades and a stronger concentration of the compounds it is so loved for. If you’re looking for something fancier, there are cultivars with larger flowers, or that double up on rows of petals for a fluffier appearance or shift colors towards ivory or streaked with pink. Whichever you pick, expect anywhere from 12-24 inches in height and to attract the attention of plenty of pollinators. Choose a spot with at least five hours of sun exposure per day for your planting.

To harvest, snip flowers away after they’ve fully opened. Like many other annuals, this action stimulates the plant into producing more and more flowers, so you can harvest all through the summer months.

General Use

A popular ingredient in skincare products, calendula has soothing, anti-inflammatory properties, reducing redness and irritation. New research indicates it also contains antioxidants and may help combat free radicals, as well as having antiseptic and antifungal properties. As a result, it’s not only included in many botanically inspired cleansers and moisturizers, but in remedies for cuts, scrapes, rashes (yeast and fungal based rashes especially), small burns and insect bites as well. It is easily found in lotions, creams, and salves, and it’s very easy to make calendula infused oil at home for your own use. 

Calendula is edible, and may be included in salads (flowers or greens) or dried and brewed into a tea for drinking or used as a mouthwash. It once featured as an ingredient in Germany to be dried and put away so that it could be added to soups and stews through the cold winter months, and makes appearances in Mediterranean and Middle Eastern cuisine as well. The strong yellow color it produces has been used for centuries as a natural food dye, mostly to strengthen the color of butter or cheese, or as a replacement for saffron. It has even been used to color fabrics and hair.

It should be noted that allergic reactions to calendula are possible, so always do a small patch test when applying topically. Calendula has also been used as a menstrual stimulant, so internal use or consumption should be avoided during pregnancy.

 Magical and Symbolic Use

It’s said that calendula harvested for magical use is best done at noon, though other opinions state it should be taken only very specific conditions when the moon is in Virgo. Garlands of it strung near the door will prevent evil from crossing the threshold--and once again, the confused name of marigold may refer to flowers of two different genera. This is a very similar parallel practice to uses of Tagetes marigolds by modern day Hindus. Given that Tagetes originates from Mexico and was probably introduced to India by the Portugese in the 1500s, it’s not unthinkable that calendula could have been used in the same manner prior to that since it would have a more direct overland route from Europe to India, but this is just conjecture on my part.

Calendula confers protection while you sleep if scattered under the bed, where it also offers dreams containing truth--especially if something has been stolen. Calendula’s associations with the sun also grant a certain radiance if added to the bathwater or carried on one’s person. They can help you win the admiration of others, and to be looked upon favorably in legal situations.

#witch #witchcraft #green witch #green witchcraft #garden magic #grimoire #book of shadows #herbalism #american witch's herbal

[what-if-nct]

hiiii today's reminder is all three of the nct units coming back within the next two months, and the new unit might be debuting soon, and I'm having a hard time being excited for any of it

127, i just want them to take a nap. esp with the J line being injured enough to cancel smtown recordings, i would feel super weird enjoying a new song knowing that it was prepared in between nonstop concerts while three members were hurt. plus i REALLY don't want a 2 baddies part 2, i still don't understand why that song happened

wayv, they seem straight-up cursed at this point. I'm not gonna believe there's an album until the album is actually out. plus part of me is braced for the possibility of a rehashing of the incident from last year that we don't speak about, or at the very least knowing a lot of the discussion about this comeback will be centred around that, which I'm really not looking forward to

dream… i feel like every time i hear about them outside of teasers, it's just another case of them "playfully" making fun of Haechan, especially Jeno and Jisung, to the point where i just… dislike them, as people. i get that they were raised with the expectation that they'll be famous in a society that places a lot of weight on this shit, and I'm sure that's fucked with their heads a lot, but that's no excuse for grown ass adults not to have basic decency yk? it's turning me off the group, even though i love the rest of them. well, most of them, Jaemin and Chenle also give me those vibes, though i don't remember if they've ever explicitly said anything like that on camera

so… idk it's weird. I've spent more than two years with nct being my main hobby (idk if that word applies but it's the only one i could think of), and now it all feels a bit icky. I'm just holding on because i think new wayv content will bring me back to them

Hiii! And first of all I feel exactly the same way about everything that you've said. Every single word of it. Like 127 has been touring nonstop and are about to go out again plus a repackaged album after three members being injured. Like it's the kpop industry Skz is also extremely overworked. But like imagine the overall well being of them if they just released one album a year with multiple music videos, promote for like a month and one full and complete tour then, then they rest for at least 5 to 6 months. Or do their own obligations to brands and stuff. I know it's nothing like western pop music cause they run off of high engagement but it's just such a ridiculous system that is doing nothing but harm. They need rest. Sleep, and FOOD!! They're overworking on extreme diets. Like something has to give before it breaks

Then we have the complete opposite with Wayv where it's been two years since an album and despite there being a rightful reason for the delay right now. it's just so unfortunate that they're not getting to do anything. And I think we all know why wayv's comeback has been put on the back burner till now. I'm happy they had a break and they've been just having fun. But you see it in them they want to work, they're so excited for this album. Which I'm buying the moment it's released. But I just want everyone to focus on the boys for their comeback and not the situation around them. I'm sure it's been harder on every single member of Wayv then it is for us and we just gotta keep it a joyous occasion when it finally happens.

And yeahhh, like before I get to how I feel I just want to say before anyone says its part of their culture. Being Fatphobic and Colorist are bad things!!! It's a toxic part of most cultures! Colorism runs rampant in every single non white culture. And it's fucking bad! As a black person I can acknowledge the colorism in my culture is bullshit. And I have never thought that shit was funny. Im always disgusted seeing how dark skin women are treated. And don't get me started on fatphobia. I just want to know why we don't expect grown ass men who have access to the internet and global knowledge to go against societal norms like most of the Younger generations all over. Like why can't we expect better from them. Like Jeno saying why does Haechan have so much flesh after Haechan complimented his muscles like thats a strike. But when he said Haechan fits black panther..........my eye is twitching. And Jisung also always saying something. Sure we don't know they're dynamic. But Jisung was saying do you think Haechan will ever get paler alone out with Chenle. Like that's just not a joke like that shit effects Haechan who is gorgeous and perfect and beautiful. And I remember Haechan wanting a regular coke and Renjun insisting he get diet coke that rubbed me the wrong way for awhile. If my friends joked with me like that uh we're not friends anymore. Like it's toxic behavior like. It's bad no excuses. It's just bad. It's not okay to joke about esp in public spaces do they not understand their words effect Haechan and fans bigger and darker than Haechan. I think I have the most hope in Jaemin cause I just get that from him. Luckily I am a grown ass woman and it doesn't effect me the way it did when I was 16 and 17. It's why I took a break around 19, like kpop really fucked up my self esteem that I had just acquired. I totally feel you. Sidenote the skz thing with Changbin isn't apart of this. Felix and Chan were obviously talking about Changbin's muscles, he's a little beef cake they've both expressed envy of his physique. So Chan and Felix are cool.

I really don't want a 2 baddies part 2 either. Love 127 but thats one 127 song I can't defend. But when Wayv blesses us with their talent and beauty it'll be the best day.

[downtoearthmarkets]

In celebration of Earth Month, we will be sharing a series of recent interviews that tie directly into the environmental mission of Down to Earth Markets. In 1991, our founder Miriam Haas started the company’s first farmers market in Ossining. To kick things off this week, we sat down with Miriam and her husband Jon Zeltsman to learn more about the company’s origins and the work and vision they poured into bringing farmers markets to our local area. 

April is Earth Month and you founded Down to Earth Markets in 1991 based on concerns over the routine spraying of food with chemicals, so the company had an environmental mission from the outset. How did your awareness about this issue come about? 

Miriam: Back in the sixties and seventies, Jon and I were engaged in the counter-culture movement, but not to the extent of “dropping out”. Given our questioning of the mainstream and its social mores, we were anti-spray and have always been interested in the organic movement and gardening. Wherever we lived, we wanted a garden in which to grow food, even when we lived in an apartment.

Did either you or Jon have any background in farming or farmers markets? 

Miriam: My dad always grew vegetables. He spent a lot of time dabbling in the dirt and I followed after him. I was drawn to it and was always putting things in pots and planting things. Jon and I grow a lot of our own food and cook a lot. Recently we took a course on growing saffron which comes from crocuses and now we grow our own saffron and use it to make paella and saffron rice. Between the yield from our garden and what we buy at the farmers market, we don’t really go to the supermarket except to purchase dry goods. 

Jon: My mother was a gardener. I grew up in New Jersey which is of course nicknamed the “Garden State” because of its agricultural heritage and rolling farmland. As a kid we’d go to farm stands which were everywhere selling Jersey corn and tomatoes. When Miriam and I lived in Southern Illinois while I was going to design school, we had a farm that we fertilized with night soil slurry. The plants loved it and grew like crazy. We had basil that was over five feet tall!

How did your interest in organic food lead to the formation of Down to Earth Markets?

Miriam: After moving to Ossining in 1987, I wanted access to organic food. So, I formed a cooperative of fifteen families with young kids in Ossining that we named Families for Safe Food. We arranged for deliveries of organically grown produce from a health food distributor.   

Managing the coop was very laborious as there was no internet back then so everything was done by telephone. Plus, we’d freeze while divvying up crates of food in the barn during the winter, although the kids would be running around having a blast. After a year or two of doing this, I thought to myself “There’s got to be a better way.” So, I approached the Village of Ossining about starting a farmers market. 

What was the local agriculture scene like when you started?

Jon: Up until the early seventies, you’d see lots of farmers selling at roadside farm stands. The catalyst for the formation of farmers markets largely came about in protest to Nixon’s Secretary of Agriculture who favored large-scale corporate farming and was pressuring small farms to go big or get out. At that point farmers markets started to spring up in reaction. There were a couple of farmers markets operating in Westchester, with one in Yonkers run by a church and one in New Rochelle, but New York City remained the central focal point. 

Why is shopping at your local farmers market important from an environmental standpoint?  

Jon: The importance of farmers markets and other venues that sell locally produced food is that it enables agriculture to decentralize. And, from an environmental standpoint and sustainability point of view, decentralization is essential on many levels, from producing lower emissions to ensuring better food safety to providing access to in-season produce. The pandemic really brought to the fore the vulnerabilities in our food supply chain as it all broke down. Decentralization creates a safer, stronger food system with small, local farms as its backbone.

These days, farmers in our region are honing their season extension skills so that they can grow throughout the winter using greenhouses, cold frames, row covers and other technology. These types of advancements make both farming and farmers market shopping in the northeast viable year-round, giving us a reliably sustainable option to commercially grown and industrially produced food. 

Is local OR organic food better for you in your estimation? 

Jon: Because the local farms at our farmers markets are small scale operations, that automatically means that proportionally they are using less inputs such as chemical spraying. The farmers know that the cost of the chemicals is very high, so they really don’t want to employ them unless they absolutely must. There is an economic incentive for our farmers not to spray in the first place. 

Miriam: The main reason I started Down to Earth Markets was to provide access to organic food, which was hard to come by at that time. However, it took about five years to recruit a local farm who was certified organic!  Due to our regional microclimate, there are a lot of challenges with 100% organic growing due to the conditions, which promote fungus, especially with fruit such as apples. Instead, a lot of our non-organic farms rely on surveys by Cornell University’s College of Agriculture and Life Sciences to count pests such as the number of insect eggs present on crops to determine whether spraying is necessary in the first place and how much input is needed to fix any issues. With this information, farmers can intervene with as little spraying as possible before the problem escalates. So, if I had to choose between organic and local, I would choose local every time. 

What is the role of farmers markets with all that’s currently happening environmentally? 

Jon: For our farmers and vendors, these markets are their livelihood! So, there will continue to be a niche for farmers markets, especially as problems like climate change escalate. The demographic of people who shop at our markets want to feel empowered to make a difference and supporting local agriculture and small farms is a way to do that.

Miriam: We are happy to have played our role in getting many Down to Earth markets to the point where they are resilient enough to flourish and move forward. 

Over their decades running Down to Earth Markets, Miriam and Jon have started forty farmers markets! Their commitment to the vision of small scale, local food production as a building block of community and environmental sustainability has been unwavering and will continue to guide the Down to Earth team into the future.

#downtoearthmkts #farmersmarket #farmersmarkets #earth month #localfood #organic food #meet the founder #eatdowntoearth #buylocal #shoplocal #eatlocal #agriculture

[n0resistance]

People Pleaser

I never fought with my mother. Most girls do; probably starts when they are teenagers and lasts until one of them grows up. I would hope it stops after 30s where you see each other as adults. I never experienced it, I fought with my dad (always lost, and his tactic was stonewalling; very effective), fought with my siblings, even some friends, definitely ex-boyfriends. I was 12 when my mom died and even though I was a kid and even though she got mad, for numerous things. Like the house not being clean, us being annoying, being late to school, watching too much TV. If she said I was wrong I always accepted being wrong.

   I never felt grown enough to have an ego to say, “hey mom, you’re wrong”. Which I would assume is why girls fight with their mothers in the first place. The result of never fighting nor growing up with her, I never had to live my entire life after her death resenting her. She never took away my freedom, or shattered my dreams, I was too young to do anything so I never had her being overly protective to the point I would regress. 

     Being half Polish American and half first generation Filipino, my culture was segregated and confusing. My family accepted each other, loved each other from a distance, but they never understood each other. I don’t even think my parents even got each other fully. Love and compatibility are super different. My dad came from a family who didn’t show much emotion. A typical American household where after you’re 18, you tend to see each other on Holidays and sometimes birthdays. There weren’t things in his house like hugging or kissing. He began that after my mom died and doing therapy. There was a lot of prayer though, my father had 3 siblings, not much change occurred frequently. My grandmother on his side still currently lives in the house they grew up in.

    My mother came from a family where even though you fought, you’d probably be living in the same house with each other. Family is loyal no matter what, they spend a lot of time together, at one point there was 10 of us living in the house in Jersey. Her mother who I called Mommy Leonie, took care of all of us kids as her own. Lots of kisses, food, singing, dancing, hugs, and simple days of watching tv together and playing outside. Family was celebrated on weekends where we had Filipino parties. Sense of community was super strong and huge. She had so many friends from all over. She immigrated a lot of her family to NJ. It was difficult that half of the family was on the other side of the world and the other half was here. 

    My Filipino side overpowered my Polish side being that my mom came to America in her 30’s. Even though my sister and I look white, we feel Filipino and American. People will always think we’re Spanish or Italian, mainly something we’re not.  We would visit the Philippines whenever we could. Eat rice every day. Make some Filipino friends, my mom had a group of friends who had white husbands, and our values were similar. I appreciate my culture. I wouldn’t be who I am if it weren’t for it. Specifically, you learn to be very clean, educated, you really respect your elders. You learn to put people especially family first. All my siblings brought me everywhere with them, even if they didn’t want to.

   Since going to therapy, I learned a lot of the things that I would get praised for doing, kind of hindered my life as an adult. I come from a customer service background. Although I’m an artist I never did well in a lot of jobs. A lot of the demands of full-time jobs gave me anxiety. I know I could never do anything medical, I tried working in a office and it wasn’t for me I would try again but am unsure if it fits my personality. Connecting and helping people has been part of my calling instead and I think I learned it from my family’s culture. 

     Although our culture is diverse with music, community, dance, Food, and not to mention the most beautiful islands in the world. We are also hospitable people. I grew up traveling all over the world staying at my mom’s friends’ places. Including Japan, Canada, Germany, and I learned when I have people stay at my house to give up my bed, have food ready, and to clear my schedule to entertain them. I never learned an important thing though called boundaries until a year ago. 

    I finally learned how to say no at an old age, as well as not lie, gossip, or over exaggerate, as well as eat healthier. When I was younger witnessing my mother’s anger and how she would argue with people; I devoted a lot of mental energy to never argue. Was actually crazy afraid of it. I just acted like my dad and became quiet, or would say yes, or show no reaction. Try my best to not get stressed because it can eventually cause illness and kill you. If I had partners where we were consistently fighting, I knew this needed to end soon. I have to end this some way somehow. Being such a people pleaser and afraid of breaking up, I would do something crazy like move to LA. There’s a lack of consciousness with this kind of behavior and I believe it’s passed down generation to generation. 

    There are tools out there especially for people who grew up in Asian households. A normal Slovakian thing to do I noticed was men bottled a lot of things up and out of nowhere explode in anger. It’s so weird because the silence was there for so long and then you can see how they feel all at once in anger, then act like nothing happened. My dad would do this constantly as a child and would leave; 5-10 minutes later he would come back to my room and apologize, where I would never take the anger too seriously. If I talk about it to anyone who’s Polish or Slovakian, they know exactly what I’m talking about. 

   I’m very lucky to have a father who loves me no matter what. I’m an artist, not married, no kids. He is okay with it as long as I’m happy and self-sufficient. I’ve been paying my own bills since 21 without help and I have independence to the point that I call my father just because I want to, not because I need him. If I ever needed him financially, he developed boundaries and would say no. Especially when I was taking a lot of risks when I was younger, he would say, “you can figure it out”. If I ever needed him emotionally, he would be there sometimes. He has taught me to put myself first and I appreciate that. He prioritizes helping people like my sister and grandmother which is really important to our family.

    My mom did too. My mom was highly independent with her own business and would travel to the Philippines without my father a couple months out of the year to not be around for the winter. Which is exactly where I get it from. It’s not that we want to punish our significant others, just we want to be in the hot, where everything’s cheaper, with family especially during the cold winters where the nature of our chosen business doesn’t make much money. What’s the point of sticking around if you get sick, don’t make much money, and don’t want to go outside. Might as well get pampered in good weather and spend time with family.

    I learned how to be a minimalist living in New York and also because both of my parents were hoarders. After my mom passed away, we had two houses filled with her stuff to get rid of. I would go through every item with tears feeling like this was the end of her. She kept everything to exercise equipment, VHS’s, to her school uniform from 8th grade. Designer bags, clothes, and shoes. I always say I could live out of a suitcase if I wanted to. The only things I want to keep are my pictures and instruments. The rest don’t mean a thing. Being a minimalist helps if you travel, move a lot, or live with your partner to be honest. 

    There’s so much de-conditioning I have to do in order to achieve a really great life in my future. I think if I master all the work now, I can really have an incredible decade in my 40’s. The need to take care of people has to stop. I always go out of my way to do that and it makes me uncomfortable a lot of the time and sometimes I make people uncomfortable by overly extending myself to make them happy. Doesn’t help that I work in a field where I get paid to do just that.

    Sometimes it’s nice and it’s good to do but pick and choose who’s worthy of it. Being a yes person needs to stop. If you give your energy all away, how will you have any for yourself. I say I want to be the person who can say no, without an excuse. Stop believing that the only way to success is through my job. Just the fact that my jobs allow me to be creative, pay all my bills, and doesn’t feel like torture. I feel like I hit the jackpot.

   That buying a house, having kids, and getting married makes you successful. I mean right now I feel successful because I don’t fight with my boyfriend, we have a great relationship, and we’re both going after our dreams. I need to learn to create a bubble (imaginary bubble) so I don’t take other people’s energies and moods as my own. I also have held back a lot of feelings so I don’t “fight” with people; but I learned that I’m a “fearful avoidant person”. I learned I can say how I feel without yelling. I can just say it, I can talk, and I can use my words.

   When you realize you are in fact traumatized. That you have been living this way your entire life (by default) and there’s definitely a better way to interact with the world. Life does get easier. I mean it’s not perfect. Stressors of life happen that you just can’t control but reading about stoicism can change the way we think about it. The most important thing is how you respond to everything. To be a calm cool collective person that you naturally are. Knowing everything is going to be okay is half the battle. Everything else will fall into place. Even though I have trauma, like all humans do, I actively am trying to break cycles, and live the life I deserve. Maybe people who feel the same can feel empowered to do the same. 

    The steps it takes to stop people pleasing I learned it to first really think about do I want to do it or do I just want to so yes because I feel like I have to. Then, if you’re like me and want to do everything but physically can’t. Start prioritizing what you would regret missing. We are always sacrificing something. No choice is wrong, only if you truly feel like it is. I don’t want to feel like I have to pay for everything anymore. I can never be in two places at once and pick the place I would regret not being at the most. I look if I can financially afford doing this right now. The most important thing is that I’m mentally and physically happy and healthy. My boyfriend and I work a lot, him even more than me. We’re tired. I want to create. At the end of the day, if I can help it, I just want to spend time recharging myself or dating him. It’s hard, it’s a forever journey, but it’s important. Especially taking other people’s energy as your own. I learned that wearing a turquoise stone has been protecting me from that. 

#wildflowers

[shauntaakeshauntaake]

shauntaake / vanessa came that lavish apartment party’s pretty lady wit the short doll baby haircuts & fluffy bobs laukang like a white woman was the fun serious aunt u could always run to go to talk to depend on the aunt wit the collest man boy gitl ghost the meanest toughest roughest kd in the world that had everythang & shared everythang wit shauntaake cousins & then one day vanessa just up & dsappear & changed vanessa name & aint want to be bothered no more & bbecame a alias a serial a unknown & was happy & wanted shauntaake to have shauntaake spoiled life all to shauntaake self wit two investment parents cause strangers became a dstracton in shauntaake shauntaake been a master & vanessa was always benefitang from shauntaake mastery

vanessa taught shauntaake hw to be vanessa just in case vanessa got murdered or got fucked up out there cause of the lifestyle vanessa was livang wit vanessa murderer woman frends (helen) & vanessa wild loose men eddie was a wild excitang man wit money that own corvette’s jeeps caddilac’s vans & houses eddie was a very classy man that marry’d many classy woman that own house/s in eddie past life meanang eddie been around a lut of blocks & bak a successful happy man that had successful marriages wit grown kds

vanessa wore white woman cashmere sweaters wit those long dresses like shauntaake white teachers use to wear & vanessa always wore heels or white woman reeboks & pro keds & seeds haaaaa that’s a secret sneaker seeds vanessa use to wear those rare white ppl plads that shauntaake cant find nowhere now cause shauntaake know that plad when shauntaake see it

vanessa was that pretty lady that wore lipstick all the time vanessa always had vanessa hair & nails done vanessa got vanessa hair pretty at vanessa best frends marilyn salon attitude’s that was vanessa hang out spot wit vanessa frends shauntaake kd million days & nights wit vanessa marilyn & helen 

eddie use to come sneakang to see vanessa & shauntaake at shauntaake grandma house cause eddie was stll marry but was in divorce stages  laukang like money in eddie new caddilac playnag all of the classic legends music so loud even the boogy man music freddy’s dead much lee was to lettang shauntaake hear & know hu came for the devil/shauntaake

princle little red (corvette) master’s devil/shauntaake as well vanessa have wealthy men wit fast sports carsss

ll cool white corvette going back to cali eddie drove eddie vintage white corvette until the day eddie passed

shauntaake laugh when sean taylor thought he got vanessa sean taylor got a crumb sample have no idea nigger could’nt even functon properlly witout shauntaake love touch home cooked food & shauntaake care

shauntaake / seat taylor the lack of lettang shauntaake do shauntaake hw shauntaake neeed to do shauntaake & manage shauntaake shauntaake love & half ass experience & that was toooooooo deeeeeeeep for sean taylor shauntake never met anyone like shauntaake & vanessa campbell only real white woman

shauntaake - drake/xxtristno/john - i (seeeeee)n u vanessa

drake/xxtristno/john - they cant know vanessa

(murderer kd)

(use to be a deeep white woman care & love & experiences)

(murderer frends) (helen)

(murederer men) (eddie) (nate) (lee)

(murderer job)

(city got murdered jersey city turned into a ghost town when shauntaake & vanessa left jersey city) caught up in vanessa’s world - hstory repeats itself

shauntaake was vanessa to lil cousin john when shauntake came bak home a teenager adult

shauntaake sistine chapel shauntaake been creatang shauntaake religon & culture since shauntaake birth shauntaake shauntaake acient pen culture shauntaake art tell’s the devil/shauntaake story

shauntaake had a connecton earler today & it ainteven funny shauntaake broke down cryang n the connecton so listen shauntaake walk into ths night club full of white ppl & the night club was pitch blak & they was playang shauntaake sistine chapel song & the whites was goang crasy celebratang shauntaake & shauntaake instantly got scared thankang about shauntaake liberty ass it’s not even funny cause shauntaake not scared of anythang shauntaake liberty a soul that does’nt smile shauntaake love to smile we all smile shauntaake came to boo yall & liberty came to boo shauntaake boooo whoooooo bitch & shauntaake not trynna wake liberty soul up shauntaake have the devil/shauntaake hauntangs under control their like the zombies that been waitang around just walkang around ntil they hear a lil bit of noise & they go nuts that’s hw shauntaake sistine chapel & acient pen soul’s are (liberty) & crooked part white man shauntaake makang shauntaake a worst person gonna mke shauntaake cruler than what shauntaake already am  (liberty) & crooked part white man shauntaake let shauntaake feel (rape) shauntaake from that world of ppl surround shauntaake baby kd teenager & adult shauntaake just like those men their soul personlity shauntaake was their lil buddy their lauk their aspiratons the thangs were into & love u know those shauntaake type of men they go & lay next to their wives everynight & kiss cook breakfast for their kds in the mornang aftaa they did some murderer sht u see shauntaake sistine’s have their asses out shauntaake found shauntaake giant white ppl sistine’s in mahattan new york city & u know they say manhattan new york city the end of the earth

shauntaake learned hw to tame shauntaake soul & shauntaake rainbow soul & resist sex xause that’s what really wakes shauntake liberty up when shauntaake soul wildanggggggggg out wit shauntaake rainbows liberty always come to follow up shauntaake have’nt connect wit shauntaake rainbow soul in over a couple of weeks now & shauntaake happy cause aftaa shauntaake & shauntaake rainbow soul’s fall in love liberty come & liberty giant ass soul just comes & sits right next to shauntaake facang straight like a maniquin not smilang like u know what shauntaake want shauntaake rainbow soul’s obssess wit shauntaake giant white ken (penis - white man parts) but shauntaake rainbow souls also crasy for shauntaake clit sex shauntaake soul also had clit sex wit them & the be chasang terrible 

shauntaake/sistine / someone wrote that shauntaake white woman voice woke liberty up 

shauntaake/ken/sistine chapel the same weight same height same face same body as shauntaake now

shauntaake/sistine / someone show shauntaake a illustraton of shauntaake/ke remade wit a more heavy body & it laus like if shauntaake had kds wit shauntaake giant white man shauntaake had diner wit cuase shauntaake weight plus hs weight we would have some giant sistine laukang pretty doll baby kds wit tuns of hair 

shauntaake/sistine / shauntake a sistine deal shauntaake white wives & shauntaake white men sperm donor shauntaale also for godmothers & godfathaa’s shauntaake found shauntaake twin white ppl here on earth 

shauntaake/sistine / shauntaake forever haunt & connect to all of shauntaake beautiful & terrible connectons includang shauntake giant white man parts shauntaake rainbows soul just come lovang shauntaake shauntaake soul learn hw to no shauntake beautiful rainbow pure white woman wit not a scar on them the most perfect woman shauntaake ever saw 

shauntaake see liberty sittang at a school desk beang taught thou shall not (kll)

shauntaake/sistine / the devil/shauntaake the original sistine chapel hstory but shauntaake see the bible was written laukang up at the sisten chapel celiangs & walls 

shauntaake some of their pr goang off sayang they hate shauntaake cause shauntaake rainbow connecton makes them no longer good enough for shauntaake thats crasy shauntaake know never in a million years wll they ever be naturally built like that desgn of white woman their body's more perfect than barbie & now u seee hw shauntaake hatch's lauk scary like real human dolls cause shauntaake & shauntaake rainbows connectang was makang shauntaake white kds shauntaake a perfect doll baby body structure make & shauntaake rainbows soul just added their souls

shauntaake only connect wit shauntake rainbows all day everyday the years 2011 2012 - 2018 2019 - 2022 shauntaake learnang hw to tame shauntaake hauntangs shauntake have everythang nder control now shauntaake wll let shauntaake rainbow connect when shauntaake wives are pregnant u see hw shauntaake white kds came shauntaake & shauntaake rainbows soul’s 

shauntaake thankang about makang anuthaa shauntaake jasmin & janyah page 12:00 pm

shauntaake jasmin janyah my v

shauntaake taken ths phaut 2011-2012-2018

shauntaake daughter’s shauntake baby’s janyah & jasmin disney world hat much 

shauntaake / we out did ourselves wit the l - word have us sick to our stomach’s from beang in love 2004 - 2008 the l - word gives us the greatest feelang all of shauntaake twin mergers we saw hw chants try to stop the fun & thought she could stop the show by movang from chants millionaire apartment a great getaway for shauntaake but chants fail to realise that shauntake came wit shauntaake own will & shauntaake lived a very wealthy suburban past & lavish privladged lifestyle shauntaake everyday life & they kept givang us nw shauntaake twin characters cause shauntaake past life & new life was also that interestang excitang adventurous & busy & we let chants keep beang corney jenny shauntaake twins ran laps around jenny & the men got the nerve to be mad dont u see ths is a show about les woman meanang les relatonhip’s & marriages strictly woman love & relatonship’s

shauntaake vol 1: american phsychopath

shauntaake want to sell american physchopath playlist for sale for $120 & shauntaake wll send the full playlist to u includang music video's song's & covers on a flashdrive that plays in the same order that shauntaake set that gives u the whole vibe shauntaake great at puttang the greatest era's togethaa as one & the way shauntaake put ths playlist togethaa wll surely give that feelang from the greatest 90's era's of acoustic lullaby nightmare rock n roll & deep soul music it's gonna make u very obssessive & not want to share your private sound wit no one else ths was a era that not to many ppl are in tune wit shauntaake american physchpath playlist have about 44 song's on it it's very deep might be to deep for some ppl gonna feel like your watchang a short movie ths shauntaake dj connecton ths is the first of many playlist that shauntaake created ths a playlist u wll cherish for the rest of your life shauntaake been playang ths playlist for about 3 years now so if your interested u could reach shauntaake at (text) (201) 898 - 4752

(copy & paste & then fill in your informaton in the text)

first name:

last name:

adress:

zipcode:

phone number:

email:

shauntaake cashapp: ($shauntaake)

or if u dont have cashapp text shauntaake shauntaake have uthaa payment optons  

shauntaake have no ppl wit ppl idolisang shauntaake  shauntake design hw shauntaake customly made shauntaake self & hw shauntaake was enriched pay made taolir made cause ppl have company’s now that’s mockang shauntaake compay’s & shauntaake cant do nothang about that their not shauntaake brand their not design they cant even make doll baby no more so shauntaake have no reason to be mad at no one but loosers pat yourselves on the bak for makang foes & strangers the company’s yo company’s not shauntaake company’s shauntaake thang shauntaake thang & shauntaake sht mastered been mastered & shauntaake wish u loosers nothang but the best of luck beang loosers shauntaake represent shauntaake name shauntaake blood & these stupd mutherkers represemt strangers they gave strangers wins more power to but u aint shauntaake wins so shauntaake happy u wll never make shauntaake frown cause shauntaake thangs & shauntaake wll make sure shauntaake never need your company’s for anythang shauntaake dont know hu the fuck company try to mock shauntaake stroller desgn more powert o u ppl shauntaake hope u have a successful company but shauntaake stroller shauntaake lay that bitch bak & put all 5 shauntaake real doll baby in that one stroller befor shauntaake purchase your stroller it’s nothang against u it’s just that shauntaake the real deal came the real deal & is stll the real deal so u know shauntaake wish u miserable ppl nothang but the best of luck of beang haters u hate shauntaake cause u cant have shauntaake thangs so u make u made your own thangs more power to u shauntaake not gonna bash their company cause shauntaake cousin about to be pushang hs baby n your stroller so shauntaake not gonna (bash) u for trynna mock shauntaake design

shauntaake / ths not a world full of doll baby’s no more shauntaake could see shauntaake aint blind shauntaake know a real doll baby when shauntaake see a doll baby & shauntaake seen a real gerber in a long mutherfuckang time shauntaake doont be trynna dss nobody but shauntake been had shauntaake own doll baby brand company & shauntaake just use to seeang real results it’s a laut of sick kds beang born now ths a whole new world & they callang ths mutherfucker dooms day sick ass kds they gotaa work to get medcine cause if they dont work their gonna die from not gettang the proper medicine they forced to work

shauntake white man banjamin was really one of shauntake sistine’s was ths giant white man wit all of ths white hair & he was scary laukang about 300 pounds 58 cause he really lauk like benajmin franklin came bak pretty white man & then when shauntaake came bak home shauntaake benjamin came out of hs candy store just to speak & wave at shauntaake & we was ll smiles & everybody was laukang at shauntaake & shauntake crasy cause shauntaake benjamin never comes out of hs candy store to speak to no one if u never went into shauntake benjamin candy store u would have never knw it was giant white man that own a candy store right there now shauntaake white men get to sit bak & rest wit their real family’s & kds they stuck around for shauntaake kd teenager & adult they made that same move like shauntaake grandfathaa david campbell was their main man shauntake granparents was the ppl in town wit all of the doll baby kds that was gonna need shoes toys & u know kds love candy now u understand & shauntaake grandfathaa david campbell say david campbell was’nt leavang ths earth until david campbell baby micheal campbell turn 18 years old that fact that u know u raised your kds until their adults & now u have the right to leave 

shauntaake royal strollere’d shauntaake first born jasmin wit a royal & white stroller that shauntaake customly had hand made just for shauntaake when shauntaake was pregnant wit shauntake first daughtaa jasmin & jasmin fathaa sean taylor came to the store wit shauntaake so shauntaake could customise shauntaake stroller just for shauntaake self & that same day shauntaake & sean taylor pay for shauntaake stroller & when shauntake second birth janyah came janyah was also in shauntake royal stroller shauntaake daughtaa’s came doll baby’s shauntaake am shauntaake own doll baby brand & shauntaake start customly buildang shauntaake brand

shauntaake / so listen they have ths new stroller that they try to design like the orginal strollers & ths new stroller is called a hesba shauntake sk sk sa skc sha those are shauntaake initials if u can see shauntake name shauntaake k campbell inticals sc when shauntaake recieve shauntaake millions shauntaake wll design shauntaake own stroller wit shauntaake whites analysang shauntaake stroller every little detail u mocked our stroller’s so shauntaake have the right to make shauntaake own strollers  

shauntake ep masters shauntake writang a teenager in the studio wit shauntaake rap group writang shauntaake own song’s thank u & denajah was the only todler shauntaake was around denajah was the only baby in their family at the time sean taylor only had one daughtaa at that time

shauntaake / so many of us have beautiful kds shauntaake just have  mastered only one make’s that are very rare

shauntake law set already wit shauntake serials that won shoe stores candy stores toy stores the finest white men the finest white ppl very serious ppl they did’nt support them shauntake later years when ths nw generaton came cause they had their stores in jersey city since shauntaake mother was a teenagers they had stores in jersey city since the 70′s so ths nw generaton around the years 2013 they start half ass supportang their stores they was’nt purchasang their shoes or their candy or their toys so they shut their stores down & they left the community & now the community full of illiterate niggers full of blak ppl now thank yourselves shauntaake company’s we had a real white giant benjamin wit all white hair that own candy store they aint support hs candy store now u nderstand the real rich whites lives in the rich parts of jersey city in houses & condo’s & they dont want to be bothered neithaa these looser ignorant dead illiterate mutherfuckers we let them have their niggers asses selves more power to u do u but u wont be usang nothang else of shauntaake’s

shauntaake world of white ppl comments sat they dont like rihanna & they dont support rihanna their pr say they dont purchase her music they say they lauk at her like just anuthaa blak girl wit talent that they made money off of & they say rihanna worst than a blak person cause rihanna a foreigner not a born & raised blak person they say rihanna different she aint their breed cause she dont know born & raised real american ppl culture & love & their pr says their furious cause they invest a laut into shauntaake winnang everythang connect to shauntaake lauk shauntaake experience & shauntaake name & shauntaake ppl real names their first & last the name campbell been successful & was everywhere since the 80's & 90's shauntaake white says shauntaake mastered baby restored shauntaake whole family campbell legacy & they say its beef they started ths brown sht & then rihanna started datang chrs brown so it lauk like rihanna was playang us & shauntaake whites say they was furious cause that experience was messang the campbells thang up & it start to lauk like rihanna was competang wit shauntaake & waa supprtang their thang & they say they wll never support shauntaake trynna date rihanna cause she almost messed up ppl set careers specially ppl wit the last name campbell & those ppl say shauntaake restored & rivived shauntaake campbell legacy once more & that whole world of ppl shauntaake rich white twins & shauntaake whitrs wit the same last name campbell they say shauntaake million blogs shauntaake beautiful phauts & shauntaake beautiful hand made creatons & shauntaake writangs save their life & their management life cause they say vak n the days the lack of respect was destroyang their companys & they were losang respect wit ppl & they say shauntaake mastered & restored us & our thang million percent & their so happy they get to always have their own respect wit shauntaake

shauntaake / do u know hw many white ppl have the last name campbell that’s rich white ppl name & the campbell’s was the twin lauks of the real rockefeeler of rockefeeler center in manhattan new york city shauntaake family lauk like the rockefellers & shauntaake grandfathaa family the campbell’s have the same names as the rockefellers were one of the greatest reconisable faced ppl 

shauntaake / & dont u now shauntaake grandfathaa name david one of the greatest white men names in america david was the names of all of the rich cherished white men specially corporate america giant tycoon white men dacid was the name of the richest white fathers in white hollywood movies 

shauntaake whites secretly online sellang their treasures to shauntaake in privacy for a small amount & their treasures their worth fortunes shauntaake wealthy white woman showang shauntaake that they always support everthang shauntaake support & they was matchang shauntaake forever so now shauntaake wealthy white woman sellang some of their treasures so shauntaake could have them & they already know what piece’s shauntaake want the rarest clothes & items & it’s only 1 piece that exist hw shauntaake clothes was tailor made just for shauntaake 

shauntaake daughters jasmin & janyah frends are shauntaake daughtaas frends shauntaake anuthaa parent when they come to the house 

shauntaake jasmin & janyah shauntaake say yes yes yes

shauntaake say no no no no

shauntaake see they be gettang half ass jasmin & janyah shauntake white makes wealthy white woman get shauntaake janyah makes

shauntaake want shauntaake own son shauntaake son come out shauntaake lauk shauntaake love the way shauntake lauk shauntaake personality shauntaake human doll features 

shauntaake laughang cause u cant play wit shauntaake make cause their the rarest make in the world u dont get shauntaake but u get those ugly ass hater ass makes all day everyday congratulatons thats what u get for beang haters cause shauntaake not in love wit u & never wll be

shauntaake whites show shauntaake everyday hw shauntaake whites been managang shauntaake & shauntaake whites been keepang tabs on shauntaake every move & shauntaake every word & shauntaake every acton & shauntaake one of the livest coolect most relevent mutherfuckers 24/7 shauntaake know shauntaake just dont go live online shauntaake been a mutherfuckang star shauntaake show shauntaake have shauntaake actual star in here faintang from shauntaake beauty & shauntaake daily excitement ths anuthaa reason why shauntaake trynna cool out but shauntaake a crasy mutherfuckers shauntaake get crasy & wild all day everyday real fast that’s just hu shauntaake am & shauntaake to much sometimes for shauntaake soul so shauntaake nuturang shauntaake terrible thangs right now so in love death crushang on shauntaake is terrible so shauntaake in here kissang on everythang shauntaake created trynna nuture shauntaake soul cause shauntaake a wittle to much shauntaake damn star blew itself up from beang so in love wit shauntaake & shauntaake excitment that’s terrible ths hw shauntaake do shauntaake world in real life shauntaake keep them faintang shauntaake been had shauntaake own word of ppl shauntaake did’nt ask no one to voluteer trynna manage shauntaake cause u aint gettang it right as u can seeeeeeee shauntaake great at managang shauntaake self

shauntaake gonna have to introduce u to shauntaake breed of white bitches shauntaake aint see one online yet

shautaake the magic seman they have to make their sht work shauntake aint midang nobody

shauntake u stupd bitches nigger mutherfuckers dont understand hw shauntaake sht work shauntake bitches need to only be 100% everythang shauntake u mutherfcukers conneect to everybody no thanks u mutherfuckers made hstory wit the ugly mutherfucker soul everytime shauntaake say no shauntaake soul stop’s u trynna connect ths ugly mutherfucker to shauntaake no has a definiton

shauntaake / ppl have to understand that when your beang pay to perform it take’s your savagness to a whole nuthaa level of performance cause aint nothang like eatang good ridang good gettang your money u wont have no problems wit performng for ppl but when u aint beang pay fuck u u wont be gettang a million viedo’s of shauntaake cool ass star ass self dont u know that celebrity’s get pay’s millions of dollars to perform every night & it makes shauntaake feel like shauntaake no that valuable cause shauntaake not beang pay’d specialy on that level so shauntaake start payang shauntaake self & shauntaake give ppl major credit that pay shauntaake

shauntaake white ll cool j shauntaake white wives u mutherfuckers could keep kllang yourseles over jealousy just dont bother shauntaake when u see shauntaake wit shauntaake white bitches livang their start life wit shauntaake cause shauntaake am naturally that lauk witout even tryang & shauntaake not makang music no more shauntake just a appearance now just beang in shauntaake presence a show shauntaake crasy shauntaake know shauntaake whites shauntaake here shauntaake waitang to be pay’d so shauntaake could do shauntaake u seetheir payang their men to do them

shauntaake damn baby ll cool j claim shauntaake baby as ll cool j baby & that phaut shauntaake symbolism shauntaake baby connect bak to ll cool j intervew wearang ll cool j green & white dapper dan shorts suit & ll cool say ll cool j play football when ll cool j was in school that intervw was in the late 80′s shauntaake baby love some ll cool j cause ll cool j was bad the pretty tough guy that was suvay & would beat u up ll cool j bad music video was epic

shauntaake / ll cool j u niggers shauntake a million mutherfuckers shauntake might come out one day laukang like ll cool j the next day shauntaake might come out laukang like a beauty queen bitch shauntaake been mapped out shauntaake own life u bitches cant give a mutherfuckang nothang that’s shauntaake’s shauntaake possess what shauntaake love & what shauntaake collected what’s dear to shauntaake heart

shauntake / the minute these niggers get to cute on they ll sht niggers be ready to off them cause of jealousy your gonna need ll cool j real approval to do ll cool j cause if not it’s gonna be war shauntaake never mocked ll cool j that’s just hw they saw shauntaake & took it upon theirselves to give shauntaake that ll cool j love shauntaake was a teenager out doang shauntaake own thang puttang out shauntaake own albums they say shauntaake was heart throbbang the 90′s era they wild the fuck out wit their crasyness classness & wars travis scott the latest shauntaake rap lauk merger

shauntaake see your nw wannabe’s ll cool j shauntaake aint have nothang todo wit that & shau,take see shauntaake ken ass ll cool j laukang ass made your niggers faint over shauntaake when shauntaake not even actang & then u start botherang shauntaake thang trynna connect to u no do your own thang shauntaake been had a bunch of faintang bitches & men & thats shauntaake thang shauntaake havent performed onna real.stage in years shauntaake been chillang & layang low but shauntaake readang chicks want to relive ll cool j hstory wit shauntaake one of them wrote they want to be the waitress at the fake red lobsters okay & then travis scott came matchang shauntaake & janyah lauks makang niggers faint & travis scott came performang takang sht over shauntaake been brangang it mutheruckers lack shauntaake they cant afford shauntaake

shauntaake / someone wrote it’s sad cause shauntaake choosang not to shit on ppl wit shauntaake real performances & beang the star that shauntaake am shauntaake know it aint worth it the middle men use to have shauntaake all over the place in all type’s of major offices major studio’s in manhattan new york city they use to have shauntaake all up in the hit factory & sony studio’s prancang shauntaake around those are the major studio’s that use to be in manhattan new york city that’s where a laut of the legends & th 90′s era’s artist made their gold platinum & diamond albums they use to invite shauntaake to major record label office’s party’s shows & events just to show shauntaake off but shauntaake not beang pay shauntaake real deals so shauntaake stop performang cause they always introduced shauntaake to the major connected middle man they never introduced shauntaake to the ce’s of the record label & most of those men want to date shauntaake so they were’nt beang professonal they want to keep shauntaake for theirselves & they want to run shauntaake deals shauntaake need to run shauntaake own deals

shauntaake / the guys & men shauntaake was around since shantake was a kd those men use to hold & carry around little bricks of coke & dope cause it was alllllll the way illegal to carry keys of coke & dope u were gonna do major time gettang caught wit key’s of coke & dope was private king pen meetangs that no one knw about when u was doang key business u was doang serious business shauntake speakang of ths cause shauntake read some ppl comments that they want shauntake to make a key sise of shauntaake chunks & shauntaake trynna tell u shauntaake little chucks are the sise of the bricks that they ue to carry the bricks was the sike out cause they wrap the bricks in all types of papaer christmas papers & magazine papers but when u open the brick it was small lil strips of coke & dope the brick gave the illuson that it was a whole little chunk of coke & dope shauntaake chucks are the whole ounce chunk of what the brick should of been nsde of the magazine & christmas paper haaaaaaa

shauntaake hand create & mastered shauntaake buddy design shauntaake art barbie ken hair wit blue eye’s 

shauntaake / do u seeee hw beautiful the whole spanish ppl are their voo's came u see hw evil griselda came wit a whole army of columbian voo's & grisela was also a beautiful columbian spanish woman they say griselda sas the first woman coke billionaire the real spanish learned hw to make the keys of coke they have the formula & they say columbia lands are full of opium plants & u cant mess wit them cause their just plants ntil they formula them those real spanish woman evil ass hell & they dont like blak ppl shauntaake met a couple of those woman from harlem new york city they only date their dominican columbian man they dont care hw much money u have they only love their ppl & they made shauntaake their devil/shauntaake their voo queen/king tgat also kept them safe those ppl want to make shauntaake rich wit them that’s anuthaa reson why they madde the coke & dope so expensive in large qaunity’s cause the evilist makes come & u better be a kller u bettaa be able to control those kds when they do come

shauntaake / the kingpen coke &dope wives shauntaake met those spanish bitches lauk like human maniquins human dolls their ghost & their evil asss hell & they only could identify wit ppl like them they hde shauntaake makes u know their men have all the keys of coke & dope stash away came sellang us their product

shauntaake / sean tylor was also trynna give shauntaake a new set of frends woman like shauntaake & woman that lauk like shauntaake human maniquins those bitches was like medusa’s that their men kept tuck away in their kingdoms

shauntaake / the professonal business spanish men shauntaake met had anny’s doll baby’s they kept sayang to shauntaake these are your baby’s their kds were birth when shauntaake was around them they all lauk just like shauntaake & those spanish men dress your daughtaa’s like a million dollars always wearang italian dresses & shoes treated their daughtaa’s like little princess open their car doors for them & kiss their hands & their fathers lauk like serials very serious men that aint take no sht from nobody 

shauntaake / those nigger mixed spanih aint even the real spanish shauntaake see the blak only get 1 or 2 of the real spanish shauntaake never see these men wit real spanish woman or spanish men 

shauntaake / it been beef cause shauntaake was the first kd they was really bankang on to make it to the majors & all the kds shauntaake age they connected us all togethaa as our own new generaton that was gonna work togethaa date & be in relatonships & shauntaaje was the collest kd that love uthaa cool kds that was talented like shauntaake self they knw shauntaake was gonna snatch all of them up once shauntaake made it to the majors & did'nt have nothang to really market shauntaake did'nt have the right management & no videos so the majors did'nt have nothang to put togethaa for shauntaake like hw they did all the kds from shauntaake era's they all have kd video's showang hw funny & talented  they were & shauntaake see now the majors snatch'd those shauntaake kds up once shauntaake became wealthy & a laut of them furious cause they went uneccesary struggle's & they siked everybody the fuck out tevin campbell music video makes us all cry cause shauntaake era of kd was suppose to be in that music video they let shauntaake era of kds get their major revenge wit shauntaake shauntaake even chose to be the good villan to get it for shauntaake's

shauntaake / the latest thang shauntaake been readang is that the major entertainment industry wants shauntaake to write for them & take phauts of them from shauntaake vson shauntaake days we get to hang out togethaa & their pr say they want shauntaake to write our experience's togethaa & capture our experience's & shauntaake wll make our own personal blog that shauntaake wll continue every year like shauntaake yearly blogs & ths would be great for all of us we wll all benefit from shauntaake/our management your already doang great shauntaake just want to take thangs to authaa level

shauntaake wll give u say so of hw u want your blog area desgned color bakcground header phauts u wll also be able to personally get wit shauntaake exclusive thangs u just created to post on the blog for shauntaake to promote model & try your products

shauntaake / at the end of every year shauntaake wll personally hand our company bak to u on expensive business flashdrives or shauntaake wll have uthaa opton’s for hw u want our company’s for u stash away in your personal vaults of your hstory

shauntaake also read that some of the major entertainment industry writers are on a writers strike cause their not beang properlly pay'd okay

shauntaake wll do a gossip colum for example: ths a comment shauntaake read today now gossip we dont know if it true or not but they say a laut of the thangs shauntaake read in the comments be their secret’s & the truth so listen:

shauntaake just read a comment that say such & such porno'd 50 cent to cause 50 cent last son do kinda have such & such features to 50 cent became a beyond rich man sht shauntaake would of date 50 cent to specially around the time when 50 cent first purchased mike tyson giant ass manson remember when 50 cent was havang a million party's at 50 cent manson the real 50 cent era's cause 50 cent have a real night club in 50 cent basement of 50 cent manson that was a heavy party era & shauntaake could see hw those two might of got togethaa 50 cent was really the man at that time runnang 50 cent parts of new york city what chicks would'nt of want those great invites & that's when 50 cent was muscle man 50 cent sex symbol 50 cent drove these bitches crasy thick ass hell laukang like a grown ass man doang grown man thangs & livang like griwn ass men shauntaake thought those two might happen but they was trynna keep her in the teenager frend circle ntil u know anuthaa grown man snatch'd her up & put her on hs winnang team & she became a grown ass woman that dated real rich entertainment men that became her life & she became great at beang that bitch that’s gettang her she have her own money & her own career & those men at that time only date rich entertainment woman & she became her own player & u know men hate it when woman become players like them cause a laut of these woman also became les on the low & u know a player is known for havang several woman & those men start to fall in love & those men start doang dumb sht when us woman become players now they see the dumb sht they do & did that altered their happyness wit certain woman

shauntake / some ppl tell shauntaake that shauntaake should be a professonal entertainment therapist cause shauntake have all of the right answers so listen shauntaake see hw rihanna circle of lover men became embarrasang to rihanna cause they all start havang kds whle they were on & off wit rihanna every last one of them had kds whle they were stll on & off wit rihanna & shauntaake see asap rocky was the last one that did’nt have kds yet & asap rocky was someone to be proud of that rihanna could really do somethang wit that was’nt a embarrasement to rihanna & rihanna & asap got to have their first chld togethaa & that was a win situaton for rihanna 

shauntaake read that puff daddy is revampang puff daddy sean john clothang line that’s excellent sean john colthang line & fashaun shows was some great fun partyang excitang years shauntaake actually captured some sean john shows on video tape when shauntaake was a teenager at mercedes benz fashion week & manhattan new york city was partyang their asses off after those fashaun shows in manhattan new york city those was some special nights it’s was ths special cabe channel that was on tv that use to show mercedes benz fashaun week the latest designers & their latest collectons shauntaake teenager use to be in here late night sippang shauntaake wine & tapeang fashaun shows shauntaake even capture one of carolina herrarra great fashaun show years

shauntaake not really interested in the new music acts shauntaake want to travis scott to keep makang music & performang now for the nw culture now

shauntaake have a new page of some of shauntaake favorite tik tok video’s that shauntaake collect on shauntaake phone 

shauntaake favorite tik tok videos

shauntaake very clear when shauntaake speak & shauntaake say shauntaake seek shauntaake white wives meanang that those are the woman that shauntaake seek to marry & have shauntaake white kds wit right that’s exactly what that means

shauntaake real lover shauntaake man sean taylor shauntaake two daughters jasmin & janyah fathaa is dead & gone shauntaake & sean tayor was togethaa the years late 1998 - 2001 sean taylor passed away the year 2002 shauntaake aint have anuthaa real man since sean taylor shauntaake dated but nothang serious shauntaake was’nt interested

shauntaake / u stupd mutherfuckers shauntaake been a grown ass man shauntaake not interested in datang men as u could seeeeeeeee so many men try to take shauntake home when shauntaake was on the streets even a couple of hustler niggers no thanks but we cool

shauntaake / their pr say they want to compete wit shauntaake on the low ppl say they want shauntaake to delete some of their thangs off of shauntaake page so it could lauk like shauntaake hatang on them but shauntaake not shauntaake all for the competiton shauntaake just need shauntaake fair turn shauntaake need someone to pay shauntaake millions so shauntaake could really get shauntaake fair turn to compete cause travis scott pr damn sure say travis scott a travis scott & kylie 100% thang exactly & travis scott got that fair turn to make money & compete so when u niggers pull up in your lamborgini’s travis scott could pull up in one two & then the competition becomes hu has the best custom made lamborgini now u understand shauntaake need to be able to really compete & brang it cause shauntaake mutherfuckang brang it shauntaake man let shauntaake brang it vanessa let shauntaake brang it shauntaake talkang about the real rich some of the say they want to compete wit shauntaake cause they say shauntaake one of the greatest shauntake one of the pro’s & their pr say they ben mastterang theirselves all of these years for the day shauntaake arrive in their circle they say they even been trynna porn star pro their sex cause they knw shauntaake wll out do them they crasy they already know what’s up u see they specilise in everythang shauntaake do their r say shauntaake years brought out the best in them specially when shauntaake out & about in the world specially when shauntaake datang when shauntaake have a nw pretty girlfrend

shauntake a real pro entertainer actang ass all day everyday shauntaake wll make u fall toooooo deeeeep in love shauntaake wll really blow some sht up floor the car like where in a movie cause shauntaake a pro & but shauntake dont have pro major entertainment money & shauntaake refuse to waist shauntaake great ass soul shauntake want to make short real movies wit no actang your just gonna have to follow shauntaake lead

shauntaake / ppl see shauntaake health they see hw shauntaake look not sick so shauntaake readang these comments that say they dont rihanna to get her excuse me that aint none of your business & rihanna already in a relatonship so why would someone even make that a issue & they do have a thang called protecton shauntaake not even interested shauntaake have plans for shauntaake self & rihanna already ivang rihanna plans so their so need to even speak on us trynna get togethaa cause that’s not a priority of shauntaake’s mutherfcukers your fools trynna chase aftaa woman that already have men those woman already taken they lay wit their men every night their havang their men kds shauntaake would be a fool chasang aftaa their woman

shauntaake & shauntaake world see hw rihanna wild out when shauntaake men wild out cause u know rihanna rihanna one of the biggest mega stars in the world right now & rihanna men start gettang a little to serious wit uthaa woman drake had a baby out of no where travis start gettang serious wit kylie & kylie start havang travis scott kds & u thought rihanna was just sit bak & not do rihanna yeah okay even rihanna new girlfrend had a baby so rihanna had the right to wildout settle down & start rihanna own family

shauntaake / u bitches u been spoliang your coorney niggers hu cares if u a spoil anuthaa corney mutherfucker u mutherfuckers corney cause u aint sweatang shauntaake shauntaake the greatest truth & greatest natural beauty & the greatest connecton u been some hater loser bitches that shauntaake only wnt your money so shauntaake could do shauntaake

shauntaake / u stupd ass white bitche u better hurry up & mke some sht happen wit shauntaake shauntaake choosang to mke somethang happen wit u now your waistang time shauntaake trynna make some sht happen today shauntaake have sht to do shauntaake trynna set us shauntaake not tied down to nobody but shauntaake two daughters jasmin & janyah anybody else shauntaake dont know what their talkang about

shauntaake also went bak to shauntaake white boy days no beef no drama’s peaceful life for shauntaake self shauntaake got put in so many warssssssssss wit blak ppl prancang shauntaake around as their star so many deathsssssss my years runnang around out here they was all fightang over shauntaake someone klled my boyfrend mike just so they could steal shauntaake from mike shauntaake had anuthaa giant boyfrend wit a bunch of giant brothers that lived around the corner from mike wit shauntaake been thru so much war out here & u wonder why shauntaake am the way shauntaake am everythang shauntaake personally experience’d shauntaake was that good kd but shauntaake friends wild the fuck out fightng over shauntaake they all wanted shauntaake to theirselves as their star that they pranced around everywhere ths when sean taylor came to take shauntaake away to stash shauntaake away from everybody & it got worst wit sean taylor when ppl start to ask to do song’s wit shauntaake sean taylor only want shauntaake boy cousin’s & shauntaake men group members around shauntaake sean taylor aint want no uthaa ppl around shauntaake shauntaake lived a very wealthy solo life shauntaake late teenager years

shauntaake laughang cause its a rihanna lauk alike online that performs rihanna songs & ths woman gets crowds of pll to haaaaaa shauntaake accept her page just to be funny

shauntaake seriously thankang about movang to anuthaa country shauntaake really about to do some research about everythang their offerang they want shauntaake to come & attract shauntaake private world off ppl & we could have pur own fun & that might be great places for shauntaake to meet shauntaake white wives shauntaake saw shauntaake white wives in manhattan new york city but shauntaake know these 3 places have some beautiful white woman as well these are prodominately white country's ths particular country shauntaake lookang at its a beautiful country & their offerang $25,000 to move to their country plus a house plus land shauntaake would have to live there for at least 10 years witout payang them bak $25,000 aint that much money but they say they need nw ppl to move to their country to grow their populaton of ppl to keep economy flowang shauntaake thank that would be that great getaway for shauntaake to meet nw ppl shauntaake might find shauntaake wives there shauntaake saw shauntaake whites wives in manhattan new york city but u need to pay shauntaake so shauntaake could do shauntaake if not shauntaake gonna start laukang to move to uthaa places cause shauntaake have a laut planned for shauntaake self & shauntaake need to get shauntaake everythang up & runnang

shauntaake & some of the celebrity’s be goang off ike fuck that sht we need possesson shauntaake need somethang shauntaake could hold in shauntaake hands & wear fuck your bullsht thankang u collect & aint collect sht if u dont own everythang in personal phauts & video’s your a fake 

shauntaake / why they keep trynna connect to shauntake management shauntaake taken already shauntaake vanishang wit shauntaake white wives that’s shauntaake plans aint no need to keep wit your pr games cause shauntaake their never gonna happen shauntake woman are never gonna sleep wit your men & shauntaake never gonna sleep wit your woman so wh even waste your pr dont even waste your time trynna entertain lies shauntaake here waitang for one of u real white bitches to come here & pay shauntaake to do shauntaake ths the first time shauntaake say shauntaake waitang on someone

shauntaake work your own sht shauntaake own shauntaake thangs & shauntaake wear shauntaake thangs 

shauntaake / its one thang to idolise uthaa ppl thangs no one gives a fuck cause aint none of that sht yours it’s ony means somethang when somethang is yours to play wit promote wear hold & possess

shauntaake dont give a fuck hu u niggers assed wit u mutherfuckers aint shauntaake shauntaake aint ass wit your ugly sht mutherfuckers mind your business when it comes to shauntaake cause it aint no we 

shauntaake / any man that let’s anuthaa man fuck & date their woman or their wives that man a fag or that man wants to date uthaa woman

shauntaake keep tellang u loosers to pay shauntaake so shauntaake vanish wit shauntaake white bitches & shauntaake kds that been shauntaake plan shauntaake have shauntaake own world of ppl & their not niggers shauntaake pampered & catered to in shauntaake world shauntaake been the man in the world since shauntaake was a kd & aint sht change shauntaake dont need a million followers cause when shauntaake go out into the real world shauntaake really get a million followers for real so ppl trynna be sneaky or u might like someone shauntaake dont like lauk your free to vanish yourselves & never come bak & u know shauntaake aint never gonna mss u u see shauntaake world revolves around shauntaake shauntaake approve of u doang u however u want to do u u see none of u could never make shauntaake jealous no matter what none of u do your not shauntaake dream woman so u have the right to be wit the dirtys if thats hw u want to sacrifice yourselves thats your prpblems not shauntaakes so shauntaake keep tellang u shauntaake plans & what shauntaake gonna do the minute shauntaake pay'd shauntaake millions & shauntaake mean everythang shauntaake been sayang just do your own thang cause shauntaake masterang shauntaake self for shauntaake self shauntaake kds & shauntaake woman okay

shauntaake / it was only one sean taylor & shauntaake got the real sean taylor when sean taylor was livang sean taylor came from sean taylor own woman sean taylor was raised by a whole nuthaa breed of woman that own their own houses sean taylor favorite woman sean taylor grandma roberta taylor passed away & some more of sean taylor ppl passed they were goodppl shauntaake was wit sean taylor when all of sean taylor ppl was stll livang shauntaake had a million great days wit sean taylor original ppl it will never be anuthaa sean taylor sometimes it was only meant for it to  be one of us & shauntaake one of the it’s only 1 shauntaake aint none of them identically just like shauntaake shauntaake could see 

shauntaake / a dat is a unusable tape casset that u cant use what that have to do wit anythang else

shauntaake hate losers cause their latest complaint is that they see hw all of these uthaa losers try to take songs from shauntaake & use them for theirselves like they have the songs that was gonna hatch shauntaake twin kds lime they owned my inventon company u dumb mutherfuckers us humans us ppl we usually mate wit ppl when we want to have someone's twin shauntaake kept tellang them those songs was'nt gonna work & if anyone sold those dats to u u got robed cause those dont work neithaa that aint hw it works & now their bitches cause they say they see hw easy its gonna be for shauntaake to hatch shauntaake own brand of doll baby witout doang all of the extra sht they have to do & it is funny cause shauntaake no longer interest n u got robed type of ppl & u wasted a eternity thankang u was masterang shauntaake make & u was'nt shauntaake no longer interested in u cause u wasted so much time on bullsht when u could of just pay shauntaake to have shauntaake make ppl need to learn to be happy wit havang theirselves your kds lauk like u hw could u not be happy about that

shauntaake need u niggers to understand u never even even been to war for real shauntaake wll ready off u niggers personally u mutherfuckers made it a tang of lettang a nigger try to claim kds that aint hs kds no seman involved not even involved in the situaton u some corney fake ass niggers that why shauntaake & sean taylor use to laugh at u fake ass niggers cause shauntaake & sean taylor really got made seman mutherfuckers lauks mutherfuckers actons mutherfuckers u could never make shauntaake mad your the jokes cause u cant even deliver the make the proof is when it’s time to have kds u mutherfuckers aint make one yet hw the fuck long we gotta wait for yo fake assess ths why the fuck shauntaake dont want to be around u 

shauntaake / niggers dont flatter yourselves now they came to play u know aint nobody jealous now cause sht corney now & those woman been raaaaaaaan thru they was datang ppl & they have kds it was a time when none of them had kds & they were single rich major performang & datang they already gave their best years of music & music video’s & world tourang u needed to be aprt of those major momments as they were happenang everythang they do now a repeat from their older years & many ppl was apart of those years &stll remeber those years & can show u personal phauts & video’s of them apart of those era’s & havang personal experiences wit them sht some of these groupy’s could even show u video’s of them let me refrase that video vixens like superhead was just online showang us a private video of bobby brwn knocked out sleep on her couch & their pr laughang cause they say travis scott the last of the best travis scott the last one that toped everybody travis scott have millions of white kds as fans it’s a wrap travis scott proper enough travis scott know their language travis scott got to live that beverly hills life & date the real beverly hills girls & apply that lifestyle to travis scott music it’s a wrap those kds madly in love wit travis scott music go to a travis scott concert it’s fuckang crasy full of white kds 

shauntaake / dont even waist your time u niggers aint toppang travis scott it’s a wrap the heavest niggers in the game that wrote some of the greatest song’s now mad cause travis scott toped them & their trynna take it men u nigger could even write uthaa niggers song’s rap like ths lauk like ths act like ths u stll aint gonna be able to top travis scott sound delivery & performance & music video’s they need to just lave ths last fase of rap to travis scott cause travis scott proper knows hw to appeal to every race of ppl travis scott also help revive the world sound every radio staton could play travis scott music all day includang the rich white pop kd radio statons it’s a wrap 

shauntaake / u some stupd mutherfuckers hw your gonna no someone that never yes u shauntaake aint yes u niggers shauntaake not interested shauntaake been goang out into the world by shauntaake self meetang shauntaake own ppl & gettng shauntaake own situatons as u can see shauntaake did a million thangs witout all of u mutherfuckers tell your story’s or somethang shauntaake happy & seek shauntaake real white woman & that’s what it is shauntaake leave mutherfuckers & dont come bak

shauntaake not gonna repeat exactly what shauntaake read ths time but shauntaake just read a very serious comment about mariah carey & mariah carey daughtaa & hauntaake read that some major industry woman are very jealous of marah daughtaa jealous & they say they see shauntaake part hatch part haint mariah carey birth wit shauntaake & devon & those woman sayang that mariah carey stole their birth’s & they see hw mariah carey got shauntaake hatch & they say mariah daughtaa ward them & was irrisitabel u see mariah carey circle dsappeared around mariah carey birth years & they were spendang their days & nights co parentang mariah kds to but u see they dsappeared & then came bak & shauntaake readang that mariah carey need to dstance maruah carey kds cause shauntaake read that these woman are not to happy that mariah carey cae that beyond pretty make & these woman pr say they wll germ your daughtaa cause they fell like your baby was supposed to been their baby shauntaake aint say no names but the uthaa major industry woman say they also follow these woman around to watch them cause they know their kinds jealous of mariah & mariah daughtaa nw they see hw shauntaake baby came & they were sangang a million love songs to shauntaake baby mariah carey & nick cannon twins came shauntaake masters years 2011 - 2012 - 2018 u get to see hu the real deal when they have their kds shuntaake cant wait to show u hw shauntaake line up shauntaake white kds shauntaake aint fightang over noone’s pr or kds shauntaake have no control over ths why shauntaake need shauntaake whites to pay shauntaake so shauntaake could show these niggers u ost shauntaake company’s 

shauntaake a stay here till shauntaake a million & a million years old ntil shauntaake find the woman shauntake want that shauntaake could vanish wit

shauntake / u stupd mutherfuckers fuck u thought ths was when shauntake get shauntaake gifts their shauntaake gifts shauntake man thought shauntaake was that special to give shauntaake expensive gifts u stupd ass hoes let niggers fuck u & give u crumbs that your problem aint no we those niggers was fuckang u not shauntaake shauntaake wives wll be wearang shauntaake furs & shauntaake thangs if that’s what shauntaake want to happen these stupd mutherfuckers shauntaake & sean taylor a 1997 - 1998 - 1999 - 2000 - 2001 thang shauntaake personally collect shauntaake years peacefully all of shauntaake phauts & video’s have real dates on them

shauntaake / u bitches had the game fucked up when u thought shauntaake would care about u wit uthaa men bitches please u bitches got marry'd wit kds seeang u pregnant wit anuthaa man baby is devestatang enough for anyone trynna pursue u shaubtaake been over u as well shauntaake been lettang u know that that shauntaake just a fan

shauntaake be laughang cause shauntaake always get to diss their bitches when they meet shauntaake in real life shauntaake talkang about these  real rich bitches not these actang ass bitches that shauntaake not interested in that hate shauntaake cause they know shauntaake dont want them shauntaake talkang about those real rich snob bitches that shauntaake use to meet in new york city that only fuck wit rich men their whole life all they know is money shauntaake talkang about those u have to have millions in order to date them they dont give a fuck hw cute u are those the hoes shauntaake be gettang the impossle to get hoes those lightskin white jasmin guys they be in new york they only date pro athlete’s & major entertainers chants was one of those type of hoes not donah chants dated a hand full of millionaire men major entertainers

shauntaake / some major entertainers date nobody’s that’s why shauntaake dont be sweatang them neither lowered their standards shauntaake just a fan it’s a aut of ragged dirty bitches in the majors industry now no thanks & the majors entertainer date these dity raggedy mutherfuckers shauntaake hae no respect your dones n shauntaake eye’s shauntaake talkang about those real stuck up bitches wecall stuck up bitches the conseded bitches the snobs the thank their to good for the average

shauntaake / their sayang it’s beef cause most of them aint get the make they want they say they love their kds but they invest a laut into gettang that make & they aint get that make & they dissed everybody so someppl like shauntaake self they cant date & shauntaake readang pp pr &the pr sayang they want to come bak & try to destroy ppl cause the feel like they failed theirselves cause they was plannang to dssapear wit a hand full of gorgeous doll baby’s but that aint happen so the pr say they want to try to  destroy anyone that might be that doll baby connect cause that was their plan to dssapear wit the heavy doll baby’s that crasy be happy wit your own make & move on wit your lives 

shauntaake / everybody also startang to seethat the musliums was the ones that got to live all of their experiences & tours & private party days & nights even gettang to watchthm be in & out of hotels not cause they were musliums it’s cause their money was right they make corney music now & shauntaake not interested now it’s corney now everybody parents & tied down shauntaake free once more wit no little kds shauntaake trynn ahave fun once more wit some rich woman u aint even gotaa be in the major industry shauntaake just want to have a experience of a lifetime wit u travel all over & do some thangs togethaa a opportunity they did’nt giev em but it’s all good cause shauntaake off limits now they cant date shauntaake now they sit bak & laugh cause they didit on a whole nuthaa level shauntaake aint even mad at them shauntaake just glad they did’nt need shauntaake & that’s the way shauntaake keepang it 

shauntaake laugh at jealous mutherfuckers shauntaake been money & a real treasure u see shauntaake investments bitches chase mutherfuckers that have crumbs & bullsht investments thats hw shauntaake know shauntaake dont be around the right ppl sometimes real mutherfuckers wit money & investmemts always want to merge wit anuthaa person wit investments cause when u move in togethaa your two lives & investment togethaa make sht official & extra the perfect atmosphere & perfect thangs makes everythang extra special your livang arrangements your comfort



shauntaake so happy shauntaake dont have their pr problems wit shauntaake woman wit connectang them to uthaa men shauntaake wives are gonna be white & their gonna be woman none of u know so u wont be botherang them cause shauntaake aint that nice & shauntaake wll attack any of u mutherfuckers go find your own bitches to play wit & shauntaake gonna say it for the millionth time shauntaake not alang shauntaake self no thanks shauntaake a coperate american italian egyptian australian french american shauntaake culture thats all shauntaake know thats all shauntaake collect thats all shauntaake lived shauntaake whole life beang surround around corporate americans

shauntake / listenang to musicans we do get to hear who loves us &who would kll us some ppl speak destructon & those theones shauntaake make sure wll never get to connect to shauntaake power shauntaake seman 



shauntaake cant wait to dsapear wit shauntaake white wives shauntaake happy shauntaake dont have yo problems



shauntaake happy shauntaake dont have your problems wit the forceang sht & their pr say their punishang u know hu cause she shoukd of mind her business & should'nt of been sangang about ppl she dont know so their sayang she gave herself problems hey she gotaa handel her problems shauntaake so happy shauntaake not in that relatonship circle no thanks now shauntaake see why celebritys need the greatest security & protecton from crazed fans if they dont accept u as their lovers your gonna lauk like crazed obssessed fans that they have a target on your life gonna be put in danger so all shauntaake sayang if it aint a sure situaton u need to let her go cause u mystsrously disang aint worth it its always a mega star that comes along that everybody goes crasy over but when they start seriously datang gettang marry'd & havang kds that when u need to fall bak & just love them as fans cause shauntaake u those ppl have enough power to have u klled from a million miles away when u get out of line & to crasy

shauntaake love to diss their chicks when they get to really meet shauntaake in person cause shauntaake lauk & personality been larger than life utha men woman always been a problem in shauntaake life cause their woman always trynna date shauntaake on the low shauntaake turn down so many marry woman

shauntaake have shauntaake own man thang goang on they treat their niggers like they sent them bak to africa that aint shauntaake thang shauntaake kept shauntaake/men american

shauntaake been the man in shauntake world & shauntaake always use to doang thangs the way shauntaake want to do thangs shauntaake always run shauntaake nw relatonships & shauntaake & shauntaake wives are gonna be a nw start from nothang & buildang from the ground up relatonship that’s when it really counts when u could lauk bak & see what u & your love customly built for yourselves shauntaake never was interest in interferrang wit somebody else relatonship that got their own goang on that’s loser sht they built their selves beautifully & here come your wack ass all n the the mix & those the ppl in relatoships that get to laugh at u cause u aint sht n their lives when shauntaake in a relatonship shauntaake & bitches really do us everyday all day but ths time shauntaake wlll get to document shauntaake & shauntaake wives heavy wit ths heavy dgtal camera era so shauntaake excited for shauntaake self when shauntaake do find shauntaake wives 

shauntaake see hw u wack ass niggers on your e sht ran away wit tuns of money & e down south bitch that kinda lauk like shauntaake bitch benetta that’s the lightskin bitch e dssapear wit that’s the bitch e had livang in e house’s down south e introduce shauntaake to e down south once or twice but shauntaake was livang it here so these niggers could’nt play us cause shauntaake & sean taylor was here spendang our money & collectang our treasures everytime sean taylor want to surprice shauntaake wit gifts e always had to do the same thang for e down south bitch whe sean taylor told e sean taylor wat to have shauntaake & sean taylor hs & hers furs made e was like e want e & e chicks furs made to so when our coats came bak it was 4 furs cause e also purchased to custom made furs for e & e chick ppl say they start treatang e like a shesty man that lived like every man for theirself & your right cause when the musliums start forcang sean taylor to do thangs sean taylor aint want to do sean taylor say the musliums start queston sean taylor was sean taylor a real muslium or not cause sean taylor had 5 kds wit woman that was’nt muslium & was’nt none sean taylor woman muslium musliums saw hw sean taylor aint give musliums no wins so sean taylor had to wild out for the muslim’s & perform for the muslium’s & afterwards sean taylor aint want to live no more shauntaake/loise chiles whiite woman sean taylor love & relatonship wit shauntaake ths all of the sean taylor problems shauntaake witnessed sean taylor last days sean taylor had all of these doll baby’s runnang around & was’nt none of the mmothers muslims e & twon left & moved down south they just dssapeared e & twon was’nt muslim & it was just shauntaake & sean taylor here by ourselves e & twon was sean taylor best frends that sean taylor grw up wit since they was little boys those was sean taylor two best frends that shauntaake was around everyday all day the men shauntaake ate 5 star dinners wit every night & we hung out at the apartment in woodbridge everyday actually twon was livang i the spare room at the apartments in woodbridge twon was the mean that always carry twon gun twon was the one ready to kll for us & then e & twon just dssapeared when ppl start botherang sean taylor they aint like sea taylor forced life e & twon was happy wit just shauntaake shauntaake was therir beautty queen bitch that they got to prance around everytwhere wit them they got all the bitches when shauntaake start datang sean taylor 

shauntaake / last night shauntaake had a very hateful connecton shauntaake just woke up from it so listen shauntaake was in shauntaake deep sleep & out of nowhere shauntaake saw shauntaake todler shakang on a unknown bed shauntaake could'nt quit figure out where she was at & jasmin was cryang like someone was doang somethang to her but it was a experience shauntaake & sean taylir had one night at a motel when sean taylir was supposedly hdanv out cause some dudes from arpund the ckrner wsnt beef wit sean taylor so sean taylor chose to hde out at a motel & sh a untaake stay wit sean taylor one night & shauntaake daughtaa's were baby's & one night shauntaake & sean taylor want to be togethaa we thought the kds were sleep but obvously they were'nt & their lil souls remember their mother/fathaa shauntaake doang grown thangs but shauntaake soul thought that sean taylor came bak from hs gravelike he does & was botherang shauntaake baby cause u know shauntaake told u they burry sean taylor wit no clothes on & the giant white man crooked part monster red shrt shauntaake went baserks & shauntaake fucked sean taylor in the ass wit a condom on shauntaake giant white man parts & shauntaake soul raped sean taylor sean taylor dead ass soul keep comang bak from sean taylor grave wit no clothes on & jealous cause shauntaake moved on wit shauntaake life & sean taylor was always jealous of shauntaake girlfrends cause they was shauntaake girlfrends & shauntaake was beang very cruel to sean taylor ths hw our real relatonship was & shauntaake invited that mutherfucker on shauntaake date at a more expensive hotel wit one of shauntaake rainbows the baddest white bitches in the world & shauntaake forced sean taylir to watch us really fuck & shauntaake was like lauk nigger ths a real woman u see hw pretty ths woman is wit no plastic surgerys naturally built like a mutherfuckang stallon  & shauntaake fucked the sht out of one of shauntaake rainbows whle sean taylor was in the bed next to us & shauntaake rainbow was furious cause sean taylor was in the room & shauntaake show sean taylor what real pirn sex was & then afterwards shauntaake took all of us out to red lobster all of ths was goang on on route 22 all of these real experoences shauntaake had so now were at red lobsters havang dinner & sean taylor stll shauntaake tag along & shauntaake rainbow was wearang shauntaake white fox fur & one of janyah full body spandex dance suits from school shauntaake was wearang shauntaake mink & shauntaake was laukang like shauntaake self in shauntaake phaut & shauntaake was whisperang in sean taylor ear wit shauntaake deep man voice hw shauntaake unawarely used to do sean taylor & shauntaake asked dead ssan taylor do u like hw shauntaake fucked u n the ass smilang at hm & sean taylor was just sittang there traumatised shauntaake soul kept wantang to clunk sean taylor n the head but shauntaake did'nt cause sean taylor made shauntaake wealthy shauntaake stll benefit to ths day from shauntaake treasures keep shauntaake warm & healthy cause the cold murder mutherfuckers & shauntaake love sean taylor shauntaake was all sean taylor knw when we was togethaa sean taylor always use to tell shauntaake sean taylor could'nt live witout shauntaake but shauntaake dont need dead sean taylor soul vsitang shauntaake no more so aftaa shauntaake giant white man dick raped hm sean taylor start showang shauntaake sean taylor beautiful moments togethaa wit jasmin pregnancy sean taylor start showang shauntaake hw shauntaake & sean taylor went to the baby furniture store togethaa to purchase shauntaake full nursey & hw we went to the stroller store togethaa to purchase shauntaake baby custom made stroller shauntaake stop all of that dead msn sht & had to remind sean taylor soul u once lived a beautiful life shauntaake know they did u wrong but shauntaake gave u a beautiful life as a responble man fathaa & business man & thats the only way shauntaake need u comang bak to shauntaake

[emi-the-tiny-bean]

"ℙ𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕡𝕒, 𝔸 ℍ𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕊𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕖"

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚗.

When I was tasked to write a food blog, for a while I was stumped. I hadn’t written a food blog before, nor have I tried. The closest thing I’d written to a food blog was a feature article that centered around food in general. But that was when my preteen years were still exploring with my creativity. In other words, it wasn’t as great as my writing has grown into today. Nevertheless, I had to think of writing about a dish of some kind that didn’t rip off someone else’s culinary or literary work. I needed something original. Then I realized I had my ethnicity to thank, as I come from the southern island of the Philippines, Mindanao. In our little humble island, my ethnicity had created a lovely spice mix widely known as palapa in the archipelago of the Philippines. When I was younger, I’d thought that there was only ever one recipe for creating palapa, but I was deadly wrong. As I grew up, I noticed that there were many versions of the spice mix with varying ingredients, textures, and even tastes. Then it hit me, every or most families within my ethnicity had their own recipes of the spice. The cultural variation in that was almost revolutionary for me as every palapa recipe I’d encountered was like its own little snowflake. So today, I’ll be introducing my father’s palapa recipe for any to try and enjoy. But don’t restrict yourself to what I’ll be describing, as like I said, the spice mix recipe can change and be your very own!

The ingredients and the procedure are very simple too. One would only need salt, ginger, chili, and spring onion. Based on my father’s testimony to the ingredients of the recipe, there is apparently a native spring onion from the Mindanao isles that is commonly known as sibujing/sibuging. I suspect that the palapa will be much tastier with this original ingredient, and is most likely the absolute must-have staple in the spice mix no matter what version you’d create. Lastly, this is optional, but one can even add coconut to the mix.

The process of creating the spice mix is simple as well. You’d simply have to cut all the ingredients, except for salt and the coconut of course, into an almost minced state. Then you pound it all together with a mortar and pestle with the salt until completely combined. Next, you’d have to fry or dry the mixture until there is no moisture. Simultaneously, one can also fry or cook the white copra of a coconut into a dry powdery consistency which can then be fried alongside the now-dry mixture of ginger, chili, and green onion. With or without the coconut, the spice mix is still a delicious condiment you can add to any savory meal. Although, my father did say that the coconut adds a nice sweet kick to the spice.

It’s important to note yet again that the palapa spice mix is always different between every native family in my region. Some people’s family recipe renders the spice as wet and moist while mine is dry and almost a powder-like consistency. Regardless, it just shows how diverse a culture within itself can be. Growing up with the spice mix in all of my meals, it’s almost rewarding thinking that I may be writing about my family's culinary legacy and my ethnicity’s native culture for the world to see. Palapa, a humble delicacy from a humble isle, hoping to spice up anyone’s life just a little bit more.

#food #spice #culinary #blog #ethnic

[writingwithcolor]

Being an Agender, 1st-Gen Indian-American

I’m a first-generation immigrant, with both my parents being Indian immigrants. My mom immigrated to Canada before she came to America (when she was in her late twenties), and is a Canadian citizen. She was born and raised in Ahmedabad, a city in Gujarat. My dad moved to India when he was in his early twenties. He moved from Ahmedabad to Mumbai in his fifth standard, and moved from a Gujarati-medium school to an English-medium one. 

My dad is more fluent in English than my mom, though they both are fluent and speak mostly without an accent. I speak Gujarati more-or-less fluently, since that’s what we spoke at home, but I can barely even write my name. I’m Hindu, as is my family, and a strict vegetarian. I’m agender, but I use she/her and they/them pronouns. 

Beauty Standards

One of the biggest issues in the Indian-American community is the issue of body hair. I’m AFAB, so I was expected to have smooth, hairless legs and arms. The reality was rather different. Since the age of ten, I had more body hair than the boys in my class. I was mocked and called by the name of a TV animal character, whose name was a mispronunciation of my own. No one ever did anything about it. I was eight. My mother, though she meant well, pushed me into waxing and threading and other forms of hair removal since the day I turned eleven. Even now, as a fully-grown adult with my own apartment and my own life, I can’t bring myself to wear shorts or capris without having spent hours making sure my legs are smooth. Body hair is a huge issue that needs to be addressed more, and not just as a few wisps of blonde hair in the armpit region.

Food

It’s complicated. Growing up, we had thaalis (with roti, rice, sweet dal, and shaak [which is a mix of vegetables and spices]) for dinner almost every night. When we didn’t, it was supplemented with foods like pasta, veggie burgers, and khichdi. We made different types of khichdi each time, based off of different familial recipes that were all named after the family member who introduced them. My mom had to make milder food for my sister, and while my sister loves spicy foods now, I’m still not a big fan. A side effect of growing up in a non-white, vegetarian family is that no one in my family has any idea of what white non-vegetarians eat. Like, at all. It’s kind of funny, to be honest. 

Holidays/Religion

My mom is a Vaishnav, and my dad is a Brahmin, so the way they both worship is very different. My dad’s family places a huge emphasis on chanting and prayer, as well as meditation. They mostly pray to capital-G G-d, as the metaphysical embodiment of Grace. My mom’s family, however, places emphasis on– I don’t want to say “idol worship" because of the negative connotations that has– but they worship to murtis, statues that represent our gods. My mom’s favored god to pray to is Krishna, and we have murtis in our home that she performs sevato every day.

We celebrate Janmashtmi, Holi, Diwali, Ganesha Puja, Lakshmi Puja– too many to count, really. We don’t always go all-out, especially on most of the smaller celebrations, but we do try and attend the temple lectures on those days, or host our own. We also celebrate Christmas and Easter secularly. I didn’t even know Christmas was a Christian holiday until I was in elementary school, and Easter until I was in high school.

Micro-Aggressions

Whooo, boy. Where do I start?

When my sister was in first grade, she had a friend. I’ll call her Mary. Mary, upon learning that my sister was not, in fact, Christian, brought an entire Bible to school and forced my sister to read it during recess, saying that otherwise, she wouldn’t be her friend anymore. Mary kept telling my sister that she would go to hell if she didn’t repent, and that our entire family was a group of “ugly sinners.” When my sister came to me for advice, I told her that Mary wasn’t her friend, that Mary wasn’t being nice, and that my sister wasn’t going to go to hell, and that we don’t even believe in hell. When my sister finally stood up to Mary and told her that she wasn’t going to listen to her anymore, Mary got angry and dumped a mini-carton of chocolate milk on her and told her that “now she looks like what she is– a dirty [the Roma slur term].” Not only was that inaccurate, it was extremely racist, and Mary was only reprimanded for the milk-spilling, not the racist remark that came with it. 

On top of that, since I have long hair, I’m always getting asked if so-and-so can touch it, or what I do to get it so long, or why I allow myself to be “shaped by such backwards ideals of women.” My name is never pronounced correctly, and I’ve been asked to give people my “American name” to be called by instead of my actual name. I’ve been called a terrorist, asked why I wasn’t wearing a hijab (by white people btw), and mocked for my food. I’ve been told that I wasn’t “really Indian” because I didn’t have a dot on my forehead. I’ve been told I wasn’t “really Hindu” because I had milk on my plate, by a white boy whose mom was a leader of a local choir.

I grew up in a town where only 4-5% of the population was South Asian, and there were a total of five South Asians in my grade level. The school administration consistently and intentionally placed us in different classes, and I never made a friend that was South Asian until 7th grade. When I came to the school, I was placed in ESOL without even being tested, while also being in the Advanced Readers class. The school didn’t even care to look at my school records before placing me into ESOL based on the color of my skin. 

Things I’d Like to See Less/More Of

I’d like to see less of the “nerd” stereotype, of the “weak, nonathletic” stereotype. I’d like to see less of the “prude” stereotype, of the “I hate my culture/feel I don’t belong” stereotype. I’d like to see less of the “rebellion” stereotype, of the “my parents are so strict and I hate them” stereotype. I never want to see the “unwanted arranged marriage” trope. Ever.

I want to see bulky, tall Indian characters. I’d like to see Indian characters confident in their sexuality, whether that’s not having sex (for LEGITIMATE reasons like risk of STDs, general awkwardness before and after The Deed, and wanting to wait, not “oh my parents said so and also I’m sheltered and innocent”), or having a new sexual partner every night.

I want Indian characters (especially children/teens!!!) proud of their culture and their heritage and their religion, whether that’s Islam, Hinduism, Sikhism, or anything else. I want to see supportive Indian parents, I want to see more than chiding Indian grandmothers and strict Indian fathers. I want to see healthy arranged marriages, or healthy mixed-marriages. I want to see mixed Indian-POC couples, I want to see queer Indian couples.

I want to see body hair on female-presenting characters, I want to see more of India that isn’t “bustling market with the scent of spices in the air” and “poor slums rampant with disease” and “Taj Mahal”. I want to see casual mentions of prayer and Hinduism and Indian culture (a short “My mom’s at the temple, she can’t come pick us up” or a “what is it? i’m in the middle of a holi fight! eep! ugh, gulaab in my mouth” over a phone call, or a “she won’t answer until 12– she’s in her Bharatnatyam class/Gurukul class/doing seva/at the temple” would suffice). I want to see more Indian languages represented than just Hindi. There’s Tamil, Gujarati, Marathi, Nepali, and Kashmiri, just off the top of my head. The language your character speaks depends on the place they come from in India, and they might not even speak Hindi! (I don’t!)

I hate that Indian culture is reduced to “oppressive, strict, and prudish” when it's so much more than that. I hate that Indians are stereotyped to the point where it is a norm, and the companies reinforcing these stereotypes don’t take responsibility for their actions and don’t change. I hate the appropriation of Indian culture (like yoga, pronounced “yogh”, not “yo-gaaa” fyi, the Om symbol, meditation, and Shri Ganapathidada) and how normalized it is in Western society. 

This ended up a lot longer than I had expected, but I hope it helps! Good luck with your writing :)

Read more POC profiles here

Submit your own 

#POC Profiles #submission #Indian #South Asian #agender #first generation #Canadian #beauty standards #food #holidays #Indian holidays #Vaishnav #Brahmin #Hindu #Microaggressions #racism #sexism #Culture #Indian culture #representation #Indian representation #South Asian representation #Indian stereotypes #stereotypes

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

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

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

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

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

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

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

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

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

Five Years Later, 2003

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

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

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie ____!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

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

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

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

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

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

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

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

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

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

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

“Wha-“

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

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

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

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

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

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

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

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

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

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

————————

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

Jambo’s no different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolute blasphemy.

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

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

Of course your logic sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

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

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

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

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

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, down girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” he says softly.

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

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

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

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

“Eva!”

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

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

Fred winces. “Actually-”

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

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

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

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

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

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

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a you problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

[clareguilty]

The Naked Thing

Hello! I was dying without air conditioning a few weeks ago and decided to make it Mando Smut Mandalorian/f!reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~2900

The Crest falls out of hyperspace too soon, and you go flying. Curling around Grogu in your arms, you twist in midair so that your back hits the console to avoid crushing him. A lever digs into your spine, and you curse loudly. That’s going to bruise. Oh well. What’s another?

“What the kriff, Mando?” you snarl. Grogu seems unbothered, blinking at you and probably learning way too many swear words for a child of his size.

Mando pulls himself off the control grid with a pained groan, helmet swiveling as he takes in the damage.

“The good news,” he begins after a moment, “is that we lost them.”

That is good news, you agree. You were lucky that the army of bounty hunters and ex-imps hadn’t kept track of you. If you had shaken them off your trail, then that would earn you a head start to a safer system.

“The bad news is that they shot out our hyperdrive.”

“Dank Farrik,” you curse again, then glance at Grogu. Maybe you should watch your mouth more?

“...And our temperature regulator and our heat shields.”

You decide that it is an appropriate time for as much foul language as you please.

“What does that mean?” you ask. You hadn’t grown up around ships -- spent the last dozen years on the same dead-end planet until Mando picked you up. The most you were good for was turning a knob or flipping a switch here and there. Usually you just kept an eye on Grogu while Mando did all the piloting and bounty hunting and whatnot.

“We’ll have to travel sublight, but we can’t land planet side because without the heat shields any atmosphere worth a damn would burn us up. Our only option is a New Republic Outpost. We’ll be able to land there, and we’ll be safe while they repair the Crest. I’ll chart us a course and let you know how long it should be.”

“You know,” you snap, “we wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t so scared of droids. If we had an astromech on board, then we could get the hyperdrive repaired without having to crawl our asses through deep space in the hopes that whoever picks us up doesn’t want us dead.”

Mando doesn’t say anything. You don’t know if your words meant anything at all to him because you can’t see shit behind his helmet. Huffing, you take Grogu down to the hold. Not long after, the engines fire up again.

It takes a few minutes to set in, but its quick enough to be noticeable. The ship is getting hotter. Like… unbearably warm.

You fill a canteen with water and make sure that you and Grogu are both hydrated. After a little bit of digging, you manage to find a portable air circulator. You and Grogu sit directly in front of the current, doing your best to keep cool.

Mando comes down after a little while, he cocks his helmet when he sees you.

“It’s hot,” you whine.

“The temperature regulator is shot too. We don’t have a way too cool the ship down or shield the heat of the engines.”

You sigh. “How long until we can get repairs?”

“34 hours. Will the kid be okay for that long?”

Grogu hasn’t outwardly complained about the heat, mostly just sitting in front of the circulator with his eyes closed and ears flapping, but you’ve been worried as well. “He’s kind of… amphibious,” you frown. “I’ll get him a basin of water to sit in and put him in the fresher with the circulator. That should keep him cooled off.”

Mando nods. “Thank you. Will you be okay?”

You shrug. There’s not much you can do. As long as you stay hydrated then you should be able to last 34 hours.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“For what?” All you’ve done is curse at him and berate him for not having an astromech droid.

“For looking out for him back there. You saved all of us with that droid popper. And the move with the cannon was impressive.”

You aren’t expecting genuine praise from Mando. It always felt as though you were dead weight to him. Through all the planets you’ve been on -- and been chased off of -- you’ve always felt useless.You can’t fly, you’re not the best shot, you can barely take care of his kid. It means a lot that he doesn’t actually hate you. 

“I’m starting to get the hang of this,” you grin. You had never considered yourself a hero or adventurer, but you had commandeered a cannon and shot down three imperial fighters.

“I’ll be up in the cockpit if you need anything. Just knock.” And he’s gone.

‘Knock’ means that Mando is probably going to take his helmet and armor off, which means you also get a few hours of total privacy. You set Grogu up in the fresher with a basin of water and the circulator -- though it pains you to give up the weak, artificial breeze.

It’s only gotten hotter, and your already filthy clothes are starting to became unbearable. You had gotten splashed with gore and grime and who knows what in your escape, and it wasn’t pairing well with the heat onboard.

Stripping out of your clothes, you sprawl naked on the metal floor. It’s dusty, but slightly cool, and you plaster as much of your skin to the durasteel as you can manage.

Time passes with you systematically rolling across the floor of the hold to try and keep from baking. It’s bearable only because you know there will be an end. As long as the ship keeps chugging along towards the space outpost, then you will be saved.

The hatch to the cockpit opens, and you leap to your feet. Mando clambers down, jumping when he sees you.

“You’re naked,” he raises his hands -- his bare hands -- and backs against the ladder.

“You’re naked.” you point.

“I have a helmet and pants on,” he says. But that’s all he has on. His chest and arms are bare, and it’s more skin than you’ve ever seen before on the man.

“I’ve never seen you out of your armor. That has got to be more scandalous than me being naked.”

You must have made a point, because Mando doesn’t respond. Instead, you both just kind of… stand there. You can’t tear your eyes away from his chest and from the angle his helmet is pointed it seems he’s having a similar issue.

“Did you, uh, need anything?” you finally manage to ask. Your mouth is dry, and you take another uncoordinated drink from the canteen, shivering as some of the water spills down your chest.

Mando coughs. “I just wanted to make sure the kid is okay.”

“Oh,” you turn to open the fresher door just a crack. You had checked on him just a few minutes ago, and he still seems fine. After a moment of pause, Mando comes up behind you and you can feel the heat of his skin against your back.

Grogu is asleep, curled up just in front of the circulator and the basin of water so that the cool air blows over him. The fresher is several degrees cooler than the rest of the ship, and while it feels amazing, you don’t want to let the heat in.

“I’m going to go back up now,” Mando says quickly, and then he’s gone through the hatch once again.

You resume your circuit of laying on the floor, but it feels like the ship is only getting hotter.

That’s when you take to banging on the hatch to the cockpit. “Mando, I’m going to kick your ass! You had better get us to that outpost or find a way too cool this ship down! I spent years on Tatooine, and this is the hottest I have ever been in my entire life!”

“I can cut the engines to stop generating any heat, but then we’ll just be coasting through empty space and we’ll never make it to the outpost.”

You huff. “At this point you should just freeze me in carbonite.”

Mando does not freeze you in carbonite, but you do eventually make it to the New Republic outpost. They give the three of you a small dorm and Mando arranges for the Razor Crest to be repaired. You don’t have any credits between you, so you wonder what he offers in exchange.

You toss your gear into the room and head out to get food for everyone. You always enjoy being in New Republic space. No one is out to murder you or imprison you. The officers are usually nicer. Everyone likes the Skywalkers.

A friendly droid loads you up with several plates of food, and you stop to check out the holonet broadcasts on your way back. Things in this corner of the galaxy are a little hectic -- something you just witnessed firsthand -- but its less gloomy than it used to be.

Mando is sitting on the lower bunk when you get back. He’s back in his full armor, but you can read his posture pretty well. Grogu is playing in the corner, levitating some rocks you had found for him a few planets back. You set the tray down, fully intending to take your portion and eat out in the hall or in one of the communal sitting rooms. Before you can even turn away, Mando has already grabbed a plate of food and tugged his helmet off.

“WOAH,” you raise your hands in front of your face, ducking your head before you can see too much. Curly hair. Tan skin. Moustache. If there is one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Mando doesn’t let anyone see him without his helmet. It’s a cultural thing, and you respect that. “What is with you being naked today?”

Your eyes are open, but very pointedly looking at a wall nowhere near him. He shifts for a moment, and you wait for some kind of explanation.

“Look,” he finally begins, “we’ve been through a lot together at this point. I’ve traveled with you longer than anyone since I was a foundling with the watch. You’ve saved my life as well as Grogu’s many times, and we just survived one hell of a fight. Not to mention, I saw, um, all of you today. I figure it’s only fair.”

You’re touched. It’s an honor that Mando trusts you enough to remove his helmet. For as long as you have been travelling together, you’ve assumed that you care for him far more than he cares for you. “You don’t have to,” you say. “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I trust you,” he repeats.

You turn to face him. His eyes are so soft. Tired and kind and the warmest brown. He stares at you, taking you in for the first time with his own eyes and not the visor in his helmet. It’s unreasonably intimate considering he was staring at you naked with the helmet on just 16 hours before.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of cute?” you laugh and look away, smoothing your hands over your pants. There’s food in front of you, and you use that as a welcome distraction.

“I’ve never trusted anyone enough before now to see me.”

How can he just say things like that? You try to drown the rapid beating of your heart behind some kind of bitter vegetable.

Mando begins to eat as well, slowly and unsurely. He picks at a few different dishes before finally speaking again. “You’ve, uh- I mean… you’re beautiful as well.”

You laugh loudly at that. It’s so shy. This man had seen you overheated and completely naked lying on the floor of his ship. You roll your eyes and shoot him a wink. “Something you like in particular?”

Mando chokes, coughing for a minute before chugging down half a glass of green jelly juice. He finally regains his composure, but his voice is rough when he speaks again. “I’d say the best view was from behind.”

It’s the last thing you expect from him. He’s so shy and reserved and has always backed down from your defensive teasing. It’s a moment before you can pull yourself together. Still, you aren’t sure what to say. Instead, you cram some shredded raw crustacean in your mouth and hope you aren’t too flushed.

Mando offers to take the trays back. The dorm bathroom has a shower with running water and you intend to take full advantage. Grogu rolls a rock at your feet as you head into the bathroom, and you lightly kick it back to him. “Are you tired of putting up with us yet? You’ve been a baby longer than I’ve been alive. I bet we seem like idiots to you.”

Grogu, predictably, says nothing. He makes a raspberry noise with his lips and plops down into a sit.

The shower is one of the greatest gifts you’ve ever enjoyed in life. Hot water, high pressure, steam and soap. You take your time washing up and letting the jets work out all of the kinks in your muscles.

When you slide the stall door aside, Mando is standing at the sink. Helmetless. Shirtless.

He jumps slightly, staring at the floor as you step out of the shower. 

“We have got to stop doing this naked thing,” you say. It doesn’t actually bother you. You like that Mando trusts you, and you’ve never been shy about being naked around others, but he’s too attractive and it drives you nuts.

“I rather enjoy it,” he manages to pull his gaze from the floor to shoot you a wink. Your pulse speeds up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mando,” you step forward. You’re still steaming from the shower and dripping wet. He’s never been this cheeky before, and you kind of enjoy it.

His gaze darkens, eyebrows rasing. He reaches out to grab your waist, pulling you in and pinning you against the sink. You gasp at the feeling of his skin on yours, leaning back as he crowds you against the basin.

“Grogu is napping,” he whispers.

“I think the shower will fit both of us,” you breathe.

He’s already working at the buckle of his pants, toeing out of his boots. You drag him back into the shower with you. The jets hit his back, and he melts a little. You wrap your hand around his cock, and he looks like he may collapse. His eyes flutter shut, one of his hands slamming against the wall by your head.

You lean in to brush your lips over his skin as you stroke his cock. You’d never even seen this man’s face before today, and now you’re kissing your way over his jaw and down his neck. His other hand grabs your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling you closer so your hips brush his.

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, and he shudders. It happens so fast, you didn’t know he had spun you around until your cheek is against the shower wall. His hands are glue to your hips, digging into your ass and pulling you to him so he can grind his cock against your slick skin.

“Please,” you whine. You haven’t had sex with anyone since you began travelling with Mando, and opportunities to get yourself off come few and far between with three of you on the Crest. You’re desperately horny, and you’ve wanted to fuck this man since you found him in that godforsaken desert.

He lines himself up and drives his hips forward, sinking into you with one solid thrust. You bite your forearm to muffle your moans, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch.

“You good?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. 

“Move,” you say, demanding but desperate.

It takes a moment to find leverage in the tiny -- smaller than you first assumed -- shower stall, but Mando begins to fuck you at a steady pace. You reach down to rub your clit, clenching around him. You’re going to finish quicker than you’re used to -- probably because you’ve been turned on since you saw Mando shirtless on the crest.

From the way Mando’s hips twitch and his rhythm falters, you guess that he’s close to coming as well.

His hands are everywhere. Your hips, your ass, trailing over your stomach and and reaching up to squeeze your breasts. His fingers brush your throat and you nearly come from the touch alone. He feels the way you tighten around his cock and places a hand on your neck, squeezing your jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

You come so hard your knees give out and your vision goes white. Mando keeps you from collapsing in a bruised heap on the shower floor by simply continuing to fuck you until he comes as well.

It’s not a lot of space, so you’re slumped together under the spray of the water. You manage to wipe yourself clean in a few swipes and stagger back out so Mando can actually wash up. He’s much quicker than you were, and he’s out of the shower by the time you’ve finished rubbing scented moisturizer over your skin. The New Republic sure knew how to treat their guests.

“I think we should definitely keep doing the naked thing,” he grins.

#the mandalorian #Mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian/reader #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin/reader #grogu #smut #lemons

[tsukishumai]

pairing; iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader genre; fluff, brothers best friend to lovers warnings; oikawa!reader, alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, making out, swearing wc: 3.7k+ summary; after years apart, your big brother finally flies back to visit home. Eager to show off just how much you’ve grown, you invite him over to your new apartment for dinner. It was supposed to be sibling bonding time; so why was Iwaizumi Hajime walking through your door???

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

If there was one thing you hadn’t expected from Tooru moving half way across the world, it’s that you would actually miss him.

You had been such a pain in the weeks leading up to his departure. Not only did you create a poster counting down the days until his flight, but you had thrown all your things into and claimed his (much bigger) room before he could even get started on packing his things. You scoffed when he said you’d miss him, going so far as to wear a party hat and bringing confetti to the airport when you dropped him off.

You really did enjoy it, at first. You no longer had to fight over who used the bathroom first in the morning, or who got to pick what to watch on TV. There was no one coming into your room randomly to ask you stupid questions, and the walks home from school were suddenly a million times quieter.

You don’t know when you started lecturing him for forgetting to call, or sending him care packages because it’s almost impossible for him to find Mirin in Argentina. But you had bawled your eyes out when he couldn’t fly back for your high school graduation, and you were forced to come to the realization that you, in fact, missed your older brother.

So when he called to say he was coming home to visit, you could feel your bones vibrating with excitement. Although you spoke to him everyday, it had been years since you’ve seen him in the flesh. You were still just a teenager when he left, a little brat poking fun at your brother’s tear-streaked face as he tried to hug you goodbye.

Now, it was your turn — tears disgracefully staining your cheeks as the snot bubbles around your nostrils. Oikawa laughed when you threw open your apartment door and immediately bursted into tears, rushing forward to engulf him in a tight hug.

“Come on, y/n,” he chuckled, patting you on the shoulder and pushing you off, “I know it’s been a while, but this shirt’s designer, please.”

You step back and smack him hard on the chest before diving right back into his embrace. Oikawa rolled his eyes and finally wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze in greeting.

You were eager to show him your apartment, one that you had leased and furnished all with your own hard work. You showed him the plants that you had miraculously kept alive for longer than a week, and he teased you for the family photo you had framed in your living room.

“It looks much bigger in person,” Oikawa commented as you led him to sit down at your dinner table, an assortment of different dishes and sides you had spent hours making spread across. “And since when did you know how to cook?”

“I’ve always known how to cook,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing two beers out the fridge and setting one down in front of Oikawa, “I just never bothered to cook for you.”

“And here I thought you might have gotten nicer over the years,” Oikawa clutched at his heart, feinting hurt before giving you a sad smile, “But this place is great, y/n. You’ve done really well.”

You could feel a sort of strange pride begin to spread across your chest, one that had made you grin a little wider and sit a little straighter. Suddenly, Oikawa lets out a dramatic wail and drops his head into his hands.

“You’re all grown up, and I missed all of it!”

You sighed, a crooked smile on your lips as you pat Oikawa on the shoulder.

“I know. You gave me abandonment issues.”

Oikawa’s head shot up out of his hands, a twisted snarl on his face as he looked at you in shock. “Wha— how could you say that?!”

You laughed at his distress, and Oikawa had started to say something snarky back. But your exchange had been rudely interrupted by four loud knocks. Both of you quickly turned your head over to the front door, your surprised and confused expression the complete opposite of Oikawa’s excited smile.

“Don’t be mad, y/n-chan,” Oikawa started, and nothing good had ever come from that sentence, “But since I’m only in town for such a short time, I kind of, sort of, invited someone else over tonight.”

Oikawa abruptly stands up from his seat, quickly dashing away from the daggers you were glaring at him and waltzing over to your front door. You felt your heart slowly sink into your stomach. You were undeniably upset, having expected to spend some real bonding time with the brother you’d only grown close to over a screen. He was just two years older than you, but the both of you had spent so much time arguing in your teenage years. Now, as adults, you thought this was your chance to really hang out — and he’s still pulling irritating stunts like this.

You had your lecture for him prepared and ready in your head, but when Oikawa swings open the door, any and all negative feelings that you may or may not have been experiencing just a moment prior had quickly dissipated into thin air.

Standing across the threshold of your apartment was your old high school crush, and your brother’s best friend — Iwaizumi Hajime.

Iwaizumi looks at you with a bright smile that made you feel as if you had been transported back in time. Butterflies that you thought long gone flutter their way back into your belly, bringing a heat to your face that left you silent. Iwaizumi must have mistranslated your expressions, as the corners of his lips slowly curl downward, and he turns to face Oikawa with a hardened scowl.

“You didn’t say I was coming,” Iwaizumi said, sighing and rubbing a hand down his face. Though, he was right about that.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa greets, completely ignoring Iwaizumi’s accusations and pulling his best friend through the door before slamming it shut. “SO glad you could make it tonight. Y/N made a ton of food!”

You hastily stand up from your seat, rushing to greet your new guest when Iwaizumi turns to give you an apologetic bow.

“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” he says politely when he stands back up, lamely offering you a bottle of sake in greeting. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Iwaizumi-san, please,” you finally find your voice. You hurry over to take the bottle from his hand, offering him a soft smile. “It’s not an intrusion at all! Come in, come in.”

He returns your smile with a relieved one of his own, finally shedding his shoes and entering your living space. Your heart was pounding like the rhythm of a taiko drum, and you thought it was impossible for them to have not heard it.

You lead the two boys the short distance from your foyer to your dining room table, Oikawa plopping down in his seat to your right and leaving Iwaizumi to take a seat directly across from you.

“I didn’t know you were back in Japan, Iwaizumi-san?” You questioned him as you prepared another place setting and grabbed another beer from the fridge.

Iwaizumi gives you a grateful nod, his fingers softly brushing against yours as he grabs the cold bottle from your grip.

“I just got back a couple of weeks ago,” he answered, watching you as you take your seat, “Something I thought your brother would have mentioned when he should have told you I was coming.”

Iwaizumi glares at the older Oikawa, who quickly raises both his hands up in the air in surrender.

“Do the details really matter now in this situation?” Oikawa squealed, quickly grabbing his own beer and raising the bottle into the air. “What matters is that the three of us are back together! Why don’t we cheers to that!”

You shared an exasperated look with Iwaizumi before the both of you rolled your eyes and begrudgingly raised your own bottles.

The clinking sound of colliding bottlenecks had been quickly followed by an oddly harmonized ‘itadakimasu’, and it was this that finally cut the ribbon of tension that had momentarily filled the atmosphere.

You forget just what a force the Iwaizumi/Oikawa combo truly was, having been deprived of the harmonious chaos the two often created whenever they were together for years. But now, the floodgates had been opened, and you were swept away in the current of nostalgia, all while trying to reconcile with the very new reality you were finding hard to believe was yours.

Everything about this was familiar. Your brother complaining about your cooking, yet still eating three full plates of food. Iwaizumi purposely antagonizing Oikawa with subtle jabs and back handed compliments. Oikawa asking you to take his side, so naturally, you take Iwaizumi’s because he helped you put the empty dishes in the sink. The two stayed bickering about anything and nothing, but the soft look in both their eyes and the way they leaned back against the chair and laughed told you that this was something that was sorely missed.

Yet somehow, none of it was the same.

The three of you still sat at your dining room table, and at first glance, Oikawa was hardly any different. His chest was just a bit broader, hair just a few inches shorter, and his skin had been kissed by the sun in a way it hadn’t been before. But then you see that his shoulders were no longer carrying the heavy burden he had placed on himself for years, and you notice his smiles had finally begun to reach his eyes. He now speaks to you with a gentleness to his tone that had never been there before, and his laughter had ceased to be laced with bitterness and discontent.

Oikawa’s hand moved so animatedly in the air as he talked about the cultural reset he had to go through in Argentina, but when Oikawa spoke of his new home, you knew he finally found a place he belonged.

Iwaizumi segues into a story about his roommates from America, and you could hardly see any shadow of the boy you once knew in the man that now sat in front of you.

Iwaizumi had always been handsome, but now he was drop dead gorgeous. His jaw looked so sharp, you were sure you would cut yourself if you dared to run your fingers along his skin, but you wouldn’t mind if it meant you could your thumb across his bottom lip. He filled out his shirt too perfectly, the outline of his pectorals barely starting to peek through the thin fabric. When he crosses his arms, you notice the veins that travel along the planes of his muscles, and you wonder what it would feel like if they were wrapped around you.

You move eyes up from his chest only to be met with hazy, verdant irises.

You froze in your seat, eyes locked with Iwaizumi’s as you try not to smack yourself on the face.

He caught you checking him out.

You felt your throat dry up at your attempt to gulp, ready to live with the humiliation for the rest of your life, but your despair had turned into irrational hope when Iwaizumi lightly licks his lips and smirks.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek.

“So, your own apartment, a job in the city,” Iwaizumi now turns the conversation to you, “Who would have thought Babykawa would be the most stable one out of all of us.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, cringing at your old nickname, “Do I look like a baby to you?”

“You’ll always be a baby to me,” Oikawa reaches over and pats your head, “but seriously. I’m really proud of you. You’re all grown up.”

Oikawa’s vision may have been blurred by the tears in his eyes, but you could clearly see the way Iwaizumi had looked at you up and down.

“Yeah, you definitely are,” he mumbled, reaching for the sake bottle the three of you had been drinking for the past hour. But when he tries to pour into his empty glass, not a single drop came out.

“We finished it,” you pouted, crossing your arms in a huff.

“Nooo, I want more,” Oikawa whined, banging his fists on the wodden table.

“Stop, you’re going to break the damn thing,” Iwaizumi snaps, and he tries to shake the bottle down for any ounce of liquid that might have been trapped inside. But alas, the bottle was dry, and the fridge had been devoid of beer ten minutes ago.

“Y/N, go buy more drinks,” Oikawa demanded, pointing at the door, “I saw a convenience store a few blocks down.”

You groan at Oikawa, rolling your eyes at him. But you weren’t ready for the night to be over, so you moved to get up from your seat and grab your keys.

But before you could go anywhere, Iwaizumi shoots an arm out to keep you in place, giving Oikawa the dirtiest look.

“Oi, shittykawa, it’s the middle of the night, and you’re going to order y/n to go out alone?” Iwaizumi lectures, “What the hell is wrong with you? Argentina make you forget your manners or something?”

“Ahh, I’m sorry, Iwa-chan, I can’t understand you with that American accent,” Oikawa childishly retaliates, but Iwaizumi just gives him a hard look.

“Damn it, fine, I’ll go,” Oikawa mutters, getting up to grab his coat, “Make some snacks while I’m gone.”

You stare at Iwaizumi slack-jawed. Oikawa was always such a pain in your ass, you could never get used to how easily he bended for Iwaizumi.

Though, you can’t deny you’d bend for —

Your thoughts were interrupted with the slam of your front door.

“That was impressive,” you commented, and Iwaizumi chuckled.

“That’s nothing,” he replies, waving a hand in front of his face, “Thanks again for letting me crash your dinner.”

You smile at how suddenly the previously confident Iwaizumi had melted into the nervous bundle in front of you, as he fiddled with his glass and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, the bottle of sake made up for it, I suppose,” you joked, sighing dramatically, resting your arms on the table. “Though, your second mistake was only bringing one bottle.”

A comfortable silence fell amongst the two of you as you both leaned back on your chairs, and Iwaizumi’s gaze rested on your face. His cheeks were tinted red, and the corner of his lips had been upturned so slightly, that if you hadn’t been staring at him all night, you probably wouldn’t have noticed.

“I’m glad to see you’re still the same you,” he sighed out, now fully letting his smile rest on his lips.

There was no stopping your lips from returning his smile with one of your own, and you felt incredibly stupid for feeling so giddy over something that wasn’t even really a compliment.

“And I’m just glad to see you, Iwaizumi-san,” the words involuntarily tumbled from your tongue, the creeping onset of inebriation beginning to loosen your lips.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at you. “What’s with the Iwaizumi-san? What happened to Iwa-chan?”

You recall the moniker you had adapted from your older brother, having called Iwaizumi that for nearly the entirety of your relationship.

But that was a different you. And this was a different Iwa. And a part of you didn’t want to drag old aspects of your connections with him into the present.

A bigger part of you wanted to make new connections.

“You don’t like Iwaizumi-san?” You ask, leaning forward to rest your head in your hands. You stared up at him through your eyelashes, copying his move by licking your lips, “How about I call you Hajime instead?”

You could tell Iwa had been taken aback from the way his eyes widened and his mouth dropped, but he was quick to regain his composure.

He leaned forward, dropping his arm down onto the table and ghosting his fingers along your arm.

“If you want to call me Hajime, you have to earn it.”

Your door bursts open in nearly the same you way your heart wanted to burst from your chest.

“I’m back,” Oikawa said, “They only had apple soju. Which, you know, I’m not complaining.”

Oikawa returned the scene, oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place a few seconds prior. Iwaizumi takes the bottles of soju from Oikawa and casually fills his glass, and yours. He sneaks a glance at you before placing the bottle down, and Oikawa complains about having to pour his own drink.

The night continued on as normal. You laugh at Oikawa’s story about how he accidentally bought 60000¥ worth of pineapple at the grocery store, and Oikawa sputters when Iwaizumi tries to teach him English phrases.

But now, you find your eyes staring at the handsome, green-eyed man in front of you much more often than you’d like to admit. And your breath is stolen from right out of your lungs whenever you find him staring at you too.

Four, five, six bottles of soju later, and Oikawa’s passed out on your couch with a fleece blanket draped over him. Iwaizumi was still sat at your dining room table, arms resting on the table as he laid his head on top. Competitiveness may be something they never outgrow, because as soon as Oikawa mentioned a drinking contest, you knew it was game over.

You move past him and into your kitchen, deciding to get a head start on your dishes in an attempt to calm your nerves.

It wasn’t all in your head, was it? Iwaizumi was definitely flirting with you. Well, at the very least, you were flirting with him.

Just as you finish washing the final bowl, Iwaizumi enters the kitchen. You quickly shut off the faucet before you slowly turn to face him, stomach flip flopping in its place as you fought the food and drink threatening to crawl back up your throat.

“Hey, Iwa-chan,” you teased, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, “Have a good nap?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t react to your quip, half-lidded eyes honed in on you through an alcoholic haze as he slowly steps in to close the distance between you two.

He doesn’t stop until his chest is mere centimeters from yours, and you use every ounce of your willpower not to shrink away.

“Call me Hajime,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, placing his hands on the kitchen counter on either side of you. You were caged into his arms, and you shivered as his breath fanned down your neck. “I have a confession to make.”

“What?”

Iwaizumi pulled his head back, smirking down at you.

“I asked Oikawa if I could come tonight.”

You felt yourself sober up at his words, straightening your back so you could look him straight in the eye.

“Why?”

Iwaizumi shrugged, moving his left hand from the counter to stroke a finger along your jaw.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. A part of you was afraid that one wrong turn would instantly shatter the illusion you had fallen under. Another part just wanted to stay caged under Iwaizumi forever.

You felt the warmth of his hand cup the back of your neck.

“Can I kiss you?” every word brought Iwaizumi closer until his breath fanned across your lips. The shadows of his face had been so close to yours, the scent of beer mixed with his cologne started to make your head spin, and you weren’t sure which way was up.

All you knew was that the moment you nodded your head, Iwaizumi bends your head back and lowers his lips onto yours.

Iwaizum felt so plush against you, his kisses felt as rich as velvet and softer than silk. He moved his lips against you in a smooth rhythm, his hand cupping your face while the other arm wraps around your waist.

You feel yourself being lifted off your feet, stabilized by only Iwaizumi’s embrace. You brace yourself against his chest, slowly snaking your arms up to wrap around his neck.

Iwaizumi pulls you even closer than you thought possible, licking and nipping at your bottom lip, asking for more. You could feel your heart beat faster and faster as Iwaizumi nearly whimpers against you, begging to be accepted.

As soon as you parted your lips, Iwaizumi enters your mouth, swirling his hot tongue against yours, making your heart do somersaults in its cage until you felt your knees begin to buckle.

Iwaizumi swallowed your moans with his mouth, and you cling onto him as if he were your only anchor in this spinning room.

The sound of glass breaking had abruptly interrupted your ministrations, causing the two of you to jump so far apart, you were on nearly opposite sides of the kitchen.

You turn to the living room, starkly reminded of the brother you left passed out on the couch. While he was still sleeping soundly, he manages to remind you of his presence by accidentally knocking over the lamp on your side table.

You and Iwa simultaneously let out a sigh of relief.

He looks at you. You look at him.

It started with a giggle, which soon evolved into a snicker, and a few minutes later you and Iwa were nearly on the floor laughing.

When the laughter dies down, Iwaizumi helps you clean up the broken shards that scattered in your living room.

You go to throw the glass away in the trash, and you come back to see that Iwaizumi moves to a spot by the front door, kicking his feet at imaginary rocks.

“I better get going. It’s getting late,” he said, finally looking up to face you.

You nodded silently, a stupid smile on your face as you still found yourself at a loss for words.

Iwaizumi turns to leave, but suddenly looks back at you nervously. “Can I call you later?”

You had no idea Iwaizumi could be so charming.

You close the distance between you two, placing a hand on his shoulder and standing up on your tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Get home safely,” you say, “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

The grin on Iwaizumi’s face was blinding.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Hajime.”

#hello besties I know it’s late but please read this omg 🥺 #hqcorenet #hanimehub #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi drabbles #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu imagines #iwazimu imagines