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sofiamantegafan110 · 1 year ago

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NEW X-MEN SEASON 2 EPISODE 3

EPISODE 3- CURSED WORDS (INSPIRED BY A FUN DOOM PATROL FANFIC I FOUND)

WE OPEN UP ON A RAINY DAY AT XAVIER’S. A HURRICANE HAS BLOWN THROUGH AND THE POWER IS OUT, SUSPENDING ALL CLASSES. CLARICE CAN BE FOUND IN EMMA FROST’S ROOM, MAKING A COLOSSAL MESS AS SHE TRIES TO LOOK FOR SOMETHING. JAY WALKS IN AND SAYS HE ALREADY WENT THROUGH ALL THAT STUFF. NOTHING BUT BEAUTY PRODUCTS AND CONDOMS. NO LEADS ABOUT THE HELLFIRE CLUB. CALLING HIM DAPHNE, CLARICE SAYS THAT SHE’S NOT LOOKING FOR CLUES. SHE THEN THROWS A SMALL PORCELAIN VASE OVER HER SHOULDER AND WHEN JAY CATCHES IT, IT SHATTERS IN HIS HANDS DUE TO THE DELICACY.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: THUS, THE FINAL PATHWAY TO SHANGRI-LA CLOSED FOREVER)

SANTO THEN WALKS IN, SAYING THAT THERE’S NO WAY JAY IS THE DAPHNE. HE’S A VELMA THROUGH AND THROUGH. JAY PROTESTS THAT HE’S NOT, BUT SANTO INSISTS THAT HE’S THE VELMA, SOFIA’S THE DAPHNE, AND HE’S THE FRED. JUST THEN, CESSILY ENTERS, SAYING THAT SHE WANTS TO HOLD A TEAM MEETING SO THAT SHE CAN TALK ABOUT HER NEW THEORY ABOUT THE HELLFIRE CLUB. CLARICE AND SANTO LOOK AT EACH OTHER.

SANTO: SO, REESE, ARE WE GONNA FLIP FOR SHAGGY, OR…

CLARICE: SHUT UP, SCOOBY.

CLARICE THEN ANNOUNCES THAT SHE FOUND WHAT SHE WAS LOOKING FOR AND LIFTS A SHORT STACK OF BOXES ONTO EMMA’S QUEEN-SIZE BED.

CLARICE: WHO WANTS TO GET OWNED AT MONOPOLY, BITCHES?

SOFIA ENTERS AND INSISTS AGAINST IT. NOT AFTER WHAT HAPPENED ON THANKSGIVING. SANTO TELLS HER THAT SHE’S JUST SORE THAT SHE GOT CREAMED. CESSILY BACKS UP SOFIA, SAYING THAT WHILE PLAYING BOARD GAMES ARE A GOOD IDEA, SHE’S AGAINST MONOPOLY. THE TURN-BY-TURN MECHANICS LEAVE LITTLE DECISION SPACE, THE AUCTIONING IS BASIC AT BEST AND SCRIPTED AT WORST, AND THE COUNTERPLAY FOR LOSING PLAYERS ONLY EXTENDS THE GAME WITHOUT EFFECTING THE EVENTUAL WINNER. THERE’S A DEAD SILENCE IN THE ROOM AS CESSILY ASKS IF SHE’S ALLOWED TO HAVE A HOBBY.

SOFIA: HOW ABOUT TWISTER?

EVERYONE: NO!

JAY: POKER?

SANTO: I’M GAME.

CLARICE: DUDE, I HAVE A MENTAL BLOCK AGAINST POKER.

EVENTUALLY, CESSILY NOTICES A DUSTY BOX ON THE SHELF. CLARICE PICKS IT UP AND BLOWS SOME DUST OFF TO REVEAL THE TITLE.

JAY: CURSED WORDS? DOESN’T SOUND LIKE THE WHITE QUEEN’S KINDA GAME.

SANTO: WHO FUCKING CARES? IT’S A GAME WHERE I CAN WIN BY CURSING Y’ALL OUT. I’M IN.

CESSILY AGREES, SAYING THAT SHE’S NEVER SEEN THIS ON THE BOARD GAME FORUMS, AND CLARICE HERDS THEM ALL TO THE LIVING ROOM, ANNOUNCING THAT IT’S TIME TO FUCK THEM ALL UP. AS THEY LEAVE, JAY SAYS THAT THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED IN ‘UNCANNY ANNIE’ AND THEY ALL KNOW HOW THAT TURNED OUT. HE THEN NOTICES A PIECE OF PAPER STUCK TO HIS FOOT AND THROWS IT AWAY WITHOUT READING ITS CONTENTS WHICH ARE AS FOLLOWS:

ARTIFACT #18204

BOARD GAME

REPORTED BY DANIELLE MOONSTAR

CREATOR UNKNOWN

POSSIBLE CONNECTION TO INCIDENTS IN CHATTANOOGA (1995), POUGHKEEPSIE (1996), AND SARATOGA (2002). CONFIRMED CONNECTION TO INCIDENT IN PALM SPRINGS (2007).

FURTHER STUDY DEEMED TOO DANGEROUS TO ATTEMPT. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD THIS GAME EVER BE PLAYED AGAIN.

SIGNED- SCOTT SUMMERS.

CUE INTRO AND CREDITS

AS MUSIC PLAYS, THE FIVE GATHER IN THE LIVING ROOM, WHICH THEY SURROUND WITH CANDLES. SANTO IMMEDIATELY COMMENTS THAT THERE’S ONLY ONE PIECE AS HE PICKS UP A TOKEN THAT LOOKS LIKE A PAWN. CESSILY TELLS HIM THAT IT’S A COLLABORATIVE GAME. THEY EITHER ALL WIN OR THEY ALL LOSE. FRUSTRATED, CLARICE ASKS WHAT THE FUCK THE POINT IS AND CESSILY SAYS THAT SOME OF THE MOST CREATIVE AND ENGAGING BOARD GAMES ARE COLLABORATIVE. SHE UNFOLDS THE BOARD WHICH LOOKS A BIT LIKE CANDYLAND WITH A MEANDERING SERIES OF SQUARES LEADING TO ‘SUCCESS!’ ON ONE END, AND AT THE OTHER…

JAY: UM, WHAT’S ‘THE PIT’?

CESSILY: IT’S A GAME MECHANIC. THE COLLECTIVE PIECE STARTS THE GAME THE SAME NUMBER OF SQUARES AHEAD OF THE PIT AS THERE ARE PLAYER, WHICH IS FIVE SINCE JULIAN AND LAURA ARE ON AN INDOOR DATE. EACH PLAYER TAKES TURNS READING A CARD WITH A RIDDLE AND THEN WE GUESS ITS ANSWER. IF WE WIN, WE MOVE UP 1, 3, OR 5 SPACES DEPENDING ON THE RIDDLE DIFFICULTY RATING. BUT AFTER EACH OF US HAS HAD A TURN, THE PIT ADVANCES BY THE NUMBER OF PLAYERS. IF IT OVERTAKES US…

CESSILY SQUINTS AT THE INSTRUCTIONS AND SANTO ASKS IF THEY LOSE OR IF THEY HAVE TO DO SOME KIND OF BONUS HARD RIDDLE. CESSILY TELLS HIM THAT THE GAME JUST SAYS ‘DON’T LET THE PIT OVERTAKE YOU’. WHILE CLARICE COMMENTS THAT THE GAME IS NOT LIVING UP TO ITS TITLE, CESSILY SAYS THAT SHE’S NOT DONE. EVERY RIDDLE HAS A ONE-WORD CORRECT ANSWER. IF THEY GET IT WRONG, THE CORRECT ANSWER BECOMES A ‘CURSED WORD’. FOR THE REST OF THE GAME, IF ANY OF THEM SAY THAT WORD OR ANY WORD THAT RHYMES WITH IT, THE PIECE MOVES BACKWARDS A SQUARE. SOFIA THEN AGREES WITH JAY, SAYING THAT THIS DOES SOUND LIKE WHAT HAPPENED TO THOSE KIDS IN ‘UNCANNY ANNIE’, WHICH SHE SHUDDERS AT.

SANTO THEN SETS THE PIECE DOWN FIVE SPACES AWAY FROM THE PIT, BUT IT SNAPS TO THE CENTER OF THE SQUARE AS SOON AS HE LETS IT GO. CESSILY GUESSES THE BOARD MUST BE MAGNETIC, BUT IT SEEMS A BIT THIN FOR THAT. CLARICE JUST SHRUGS AND SAYS THAT SHE’S GOING FIRST BEFORE REACHING FOR THE BOX OF RIDDLE CARDS AND PULLING OUT A RED CARD. CESSILY COMMENTS THAT RED MEANS THAT IT’S A HIGH-DIFFICULTY 5-SQUARE CARD, SUGGESTING THAT SHE SHOULD START WITH A GREEN ONE-SQUARE WHILE THEY GET THE HANG OF IT, BUT CLARICE TELLS HER TO SHUT UP AND PLAY THE STUPID GAME, BEFORE TURNING OVER THE ONE-MINUTE HOURGLASS AND READING THE RIDDLE ALOUD.

A DOLLAR, A DEER AND A VAULT,

AND ALSO PERHAPS THEN A FAULT,

THAT IS PASSED AROUND,

OR KICKS YOU TO THE GROUND,

BUT THE WHITE HOUSE IS WHERE IT WILL HALT.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: PAUSE. BEFORE YOU CONTINUE TO READ THE EPISODE, FIRST, TRY TO GUESS WHAT THE RIDDLE IS. IF YOU DON’T KNOW, THAT’S OKAY, BUT AT LEAST TRY TO MAKE AN EFFORT INSTEAD OF BEING LAZY.)

CONFUSED, CESSILY ASKS CLARICE TO READ IT AGAIN, AND WHEN CLARICE GIVES HER THE CARD, CESSILY TELLS HER THAT IT’S BLANK. SANTO ASKS IF MAYBE THERE ARE ANSWER CARDS SOMEWHERE, AND CLARICE IMMEDIATELY GIVES UP. JUST AS THE LAST OF THE SAND RUNS OUT OF THE TIMER, CESSILY TELLS HER THAT THE GAME LITERALLY JUST STARTED, BUT CLARICE SAYS TO FUCK IT. THE GAME IS TERRIBLE.

SUDDENLY, A SOUND LIKE THE LOUDEST GONG IN THE WORLD GOES OFF, CAUSING EVERYONE TO DROP TO THE FLOOR, HANDS ON THEIR EARS. SANTO IMMEDIATELY ASKS WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON, AND IT HAPPENS AGAIN, ONLY SOMEHOW MUCH WORSE. SOFIA FORCES HERSELF UP TO LOOK AT THE BOARD AND BEFORE CESSILY CAN OPEN HER MOUTH, SHE SHUSHES HER, POINTING OVER TO WHERE THEIR GAME PIECE HAS SLID BACK TWO SQUARES BY ITSELF. THEN, AT THE BOTTOM RIGHT HAND CORNER OF THE BOARD, THE WORD BUCK MATERIALIZES IN DELICATE SCRIPT. THEY ALL LOOK AT IT IN CONCERN.

A FEW MINUTES LATER, JAY RETURNS FROM CYCLOPS’ STUDY, HOLDING A THICK TOME. HE SAYS THAT PROFESSOR XAVIER MANAGED TO PIECE TOGETHER THAT CURSED WORDS WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR SOMETHING THAT HE DOESN’T SAY, ONLY THAT THERE’S A LOT OF BLOOD INVOLVED. SANTO SAYS THAT THAT’S JUST FUCKING GREAT, AND JUST WHEN THEY ALL GLARE AT HIM AND BRACE THEMSELVES FOR IMPACT, NOTHING HAPPENS. SOFIA GUESSES THAT MAYBE IF YOU ADD AN -ING TO THE END, IT DOESN’T RHYME WITH THE CURSED WORD. BUT IF THEY JUST SAY-

THEY ALL IMMEDIATELY SHUSH HER, BUT SHE TELLS THEM THAT SHE WAS JUST GOING TO SAY ‘THE FOUR LETTER WORD’. SANTO ASKS WHY THEY CAN’T JUST DESTROY THE THING, AND CESSILY READS RULE 19 FROM THE RULEBOOK; ANY ATTEMPT TO DESTROY A GAME PIECE IS CONSIDERED CHEATING AND SENDS IT DIRECTLY TO THE PIT. SANTO THEN SUGGESTS NOT PLAYING, BUT CESSILY READS RULE 3; THE GAME CONTINUES UNTIL THE GAME PIECE REACHES SUCCESS OR THE PIT, MEANING THEY COULD STOP, BUT THEY’D HAVE TO SPEND THE REST OF THEIR LIVES NOT SAYING ANYTHING THAT RHYMES WITH… THE WORD.

SANTO: FU-DGE THAT! C’MON! AIN’T NO F… -ING ON THE END MAKES IT OKAY, RIGHT? RIGHT. AIN’T NO FUCKING BOARD GAME GONNA TAKE MY FUCKING F-BOMBS AWAY FROM ME! LET’S JUST ANSWER SOME RIDDLES AND SHOW THIS GAME WHO’S BOSS!

CLARICE THEN SUGGESTS MAYBE GETTING SOME OTHER STUDENTS TO HELP, BUT CESSILY TELLS HER THAT THE GAME IS LIMITED TO 7 PLAYERS. THEY THEN CIRCLE THE BOARD AND CESSILY RECOMMENDS MAYBE DECIDING TOGETHER WHAT KIND OF… BUT THEN SOFIA PICKS UP A RANDOM CARD AGAIN.

SOFIA: NOT RANDOM. AN EASY ONE. MY MOTHER USED TO SAY ‘WHEN YOU’VE HAD A SETBACK, BUILD ON SMALL SUCCESSES’.

SANTO: YEAH, YEAH, YOUR MOM IS MAHATMA GANDHI. NOW WHAT DOES IT SAY?

SOFIA FLIPS OVER THE TIMER AND READS THE RIDDLE.

AS I WAS PASSING DOWN THE STREET,

A SCARLET FLOWER DID I MEET,

ITS EIGHT PETALS WERE BONNY AND GAY,

BUT WHAT DID ITS MILKY WHITE CENTER SAY?

(NOTE: SAME AS BEFORE, TRY TO GUESS THE RIDDLE.)

CLARICE IMMEDIATELY ASKS IF IT’S A TALKING FLOWER, AND CESSILY ASSUMES IT’S PROBABLY A METAPHOR. JAY GUESSES COMPASS ROSE BUT CESSILY TELLS HIM THAT THE ANSWER NEEDS TO BE ONE WORD. CLARICE ANXIOUSLY TELLS THEM THAT THE TIME’S ALMOST UP, AND SOFIA GUESSES TULIP, ROSE, POPPY, AND GERBER DAISY BEFORE SOMEONE YELLS AT THEM TO STOP.

MONET ENTERS THE ROOM, SAYING THAT OF ALL THE GAMES, THEY HAD TO CHOOSE THIS ONE. SHE THEN ASKS IF THEY HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THEY’VE GOTTEN THEMSELVES INTO. CESSILY TELLS HER THAT THE ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH, BUT MONET SNAPS AT HER, SAYING THAT THIS GAME HAS NEVER BEEN BEATEN IN THE ENTIRE HISTORY IT’S BEEN PLAYED. SHE THEN TELLS THEM THAT SHE DOESN’T CARE HOW MANY CURSED WORDS THEY’VE RACKED UP SO FAR, BUT THEY NEED TO ERASE THEM AND ALL WORDS THAT RHYME WITH THEM FROM THEIR VOCABULARY AND TUCK THE GAME AWAY.

CLARICE: WE CAN’T-

MONET: YES, YOU CAN. TOUGH LUCK.

SOMEHOW, THE SOUND IS WORSE THIS TIME, AND SANTO TELLS THEM ALL THAT SOMETHING’S WRONG. THE PIECE ISN’T IN THE RIGHT SPOT. JAY THEN ASKS WHERE THE NEW CURSED WORD IS, AND CESSILY STARTS TO REMEMBER SOMETHING. WE THEN FLASHBACK TO A FEW SECONDS AGO.

PAST SOFIA: UMMM… TULIP! ROSE! POPPY! GERBER DAISY!

PAST MONET: STOP! STOP PLAYING THE-

WE THEN REWIND AND THE FLASHBACK PLAYS AGAIN IN SLOW MOTION.

PAST MONET: SSSTTOOOPPP!

AS SHE SPEAKS, CESSILY REMEMBERS SEEING THE GAME PIECE MOVE FORWARD TWO SQUARES, AND SHE SAYS THAT IT WAS ONLY A ONE-SQUARE RIDDLE AND MONET JUST TRIGGERED A CURSED WORD. THE GAME PIECE STARTS AHEAD OF THE PIT THE SAME NUMBER OF SQUARES AS PLAYERS, SO…

MONET: NO! OH GOD NO!

CLARICE: WELCOME TO THE SHITSHOW, ST. CROIX.

MONET GRABS THE RIDDLE CARD, READS IT OVER, AND THEN STATES HER DISBELIEF THAT SHE’S BEEN ROPED INTO THIS GAME BECAUSE THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT A STOP SIGN IS. JAY THEN ASKS THAT IF MONET WAS PLAYING FROM THE MOMENT SHE SAID ‘STOP’, WHY DID THEY NOT SLIDE BACK A SQUARE WHEN SHE TOLD THEM TO ‘T-U-C-K’ THE GAME AWAY?

MONET: WAIT. WHY ARE YOU SPELLING… OH NO.

JAY: RIGHT. NO MORE F-BOMBS UNTIL WE FINISH. BUT APPARENTLY ‘TUCK’ IS-

WHEN EVERYONE COMES TO, MONET ASKS THEM IF THEY ACTUALLY STARTED PLAYING THE GAME WITHOUT READING THE RULES FIRST, AND CESSILY SAYS THAT SHE DID. IF A PLAYER ANSWERS A RIDDLE CORRECTLY, THEY GET ONE FREE PASS ON A CURSED WORD, WHICH IS WHY MONET’S T-WORD WAS FINE BUT JAY’S GOT THEM CURSED AGAIN. JAY SNAPS THAT IT WOULD’VE BEEN NICE TO KNOW ABOUT 45 SECONDS AGO, AND CESSILY ARGUES THAT SHE FIGURED SHE’D GET TO IT WHEN IT CAME UP, WHICH IT DID AND SHE DID.

MONET: I’M GONNA DIE. I’M GONNA DIE AND IT WON’T BE ANTI-MUTANT RADICALS OR DOCTOR DOOM OR EVEN MY FAMILY’S WEIRD CURSED BLOODLINE THAT KILLS ME. IT’LL BE A FUCKING BOARD GAME WITH A RIDDLE ABOUT A STOP SIGN.

WITH THAT, SHE SITS DOWN AND PICKS UP A RED CARD. BEFORE JAY CAN SAY ANYTHING, MONET SAYS THAT THEY’RE TWO SQUARES IN THE HOLE AND THEY NEED TO MAKE THEM UP IF THEY’RE GONNA SURVIVE. CLARICE IS JUST ABOUT TO SAY SOMETHING, BUT MONET SAYS THAT SHE’S REACHED HER QUOTA ON STUPID QUESTIONS TODAY AND SHE’S READING THE CARD NOW.

I MOVE IN THE SHAPE OF A GRACEFUL LETTER,

AND YET I KNEEL BEFORE MY BETTER,

YOU SEE NAUGHT BUT MY GRACEFUL HEAD,

BUT IF WE TOUCH, ONE OF US IS DEAD.

(NOTE: ONCE AGAIN, TRY TO SOLVE THE RIDDLE BEFORE MOVING ON.)

SANTO IMMEDIATELY ASKS IF THAT MAKES SENSE TO LITERALLY ANYONE HERE, AND MONET TELLS HIM THAT IT’S A RIDDLE. THEY HAVE TO FIGURE IT OUT BEFORE IT MAKES SENSE. SANTO ASSUMES THE ANSWER IS A BUST OR A COIN AND CLARICE GUESSES MAYBE IT’S SOMEONE WHO KNEELS IN CHURCH, BUT MONET SAYS THAT THE ANSWER NEEDS TO BE ONE WORD. JAY SAYS THAT THEY ALL KNOW THE GAME PREFERS METAPHORS TO CONCRETE FACTS, AND ASKS IF THERE’S A METAPHORICAL WAY YOU COULD KILL SOMETHING.

MONET: I DUNNO. THROW IT OUT, LIKE GARBAGE?

CLARICE: MAYBE MAKE IT AN OUTCAST SOCIALLY?

SANTO: GOD I HATE THIS GAME.

SOFIA: GAME! SANTO, YOU’RE A GENIUS!

JUST AS THE TIMER RUNS OUT, SOFIA SAYS THAT THE ANSWER IS KNIGHT. EVERYONE WAITS AND THEN SIGHS AS THE GAME PIECE MOVES FIVE SQUARES. JAY ANNOUNCES THAT THAT WAS CLOSE, AND MONET TELLS HIM HE’S DAMN RIGHT. SHE WAS SO CLOSE TO HAVING TO BANISH ‘SHITE’ FROM HER VOCABULARY, ON TOP OF THE OTHER WORD. IF THE NEXT ANSWER IS EITHER ‘SIT’ OR ‘STICK’, SHE MIGHT AS WELL NEVER SPEAK AGAIN.

CLARICE: GOOD JOB, BABE!

SANTO: WAIT. I DON’T GET IT.

CLARICE: YOU’VE NEVER PLAYED CHESS?

SANTO: WH—YEAH I HAVE!

CLARICE: NAME ONE PIECE ON A CHESS BOARD.

SANTO: …A KNIGHT.

MONET ANNOUNCES THAT THEY’RE DOOMED, BUT JAY QUESTIONS THAT. THEY’VE ONLY GOT ONE CURSED WORD SO FAR, AND THAT WAS BEFORE THEY REALIZED WHAT KIND OF GAME IT WAS. BEFORE HE CAN SAY THAT MAYBE THEY CAN BEAT THE GAME, HOWEVER, MONET SHUSHES HIM, INSISTING THAT THEY CAN’T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT IN FRONT OF IT. SHE EXPLAINS THAT THE GAME IS ALWAYS LISTENING AND IT HATES HUBRIS. THERE’S DEFINITELY A POSSIBILITY THAT IT’LL CHANGE THE RULES TO PUNISH THEM FOR IT.

CESSILY: YOU’RE KIDDING.

MONET: NOPE. I’VE BEEN DOING SOME RESEARCH FOR MISS PRYDE’S ‘MYSTERY OBJECTS OF THE PAST’ PROJECT. APPARENTLY, THE PLAYERS IN SARATOGA ALMOST MADE IT TO THE END UNTIL ONE OF THEM DECIDED TO CALL IT… I’M QUOTING WHAT THEY SAID, NOT IMPLYING IT’S TRUE. ‘…BITCHY CANDYLAND’. AND THEN THERE WERE A THOUSAND MORE SQUARES ON THE BOARD. THEY LASTED A WEEK BEFORE THEY WERE OVERTAKEN.

SANTO: HOW THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO STRATEGIZE IF THE RULES CAN CHANGE LIKE THAT?!

CLARICE: IDIOT, YOU JUST WASTED YOUR CURSED WORD PASS!

SANTO: THIS IS BULLSHIT. THIS GAME CAN SUCK MY NONEXISTANT DI-

WHEN THE SOUND SUBSIDES, JAY TELLS SANTO TO LOOK AT WHAT HE DID. BEFORE, THE RIDDLE CARDS HAD BEEN DIVIDED INTO AN EASY, MEDIUM, AND HARD SECTION. NOW, THERE’S ONLY A HARD SECTION. SANTO APOLOGIZES AND MONET TELLS CESSILY THAT IT’S HER TURN. AND CONSIDERING ‘PEBBLESLIDE’ JUST PISSED OFF THE GAME, IT’S GONNA BE A DOOZY. CESSILY SIGHS AND READS THE NEXT CARD.

MY FAVORITE FRIEND HAS COME TO CHAT,

POLITELY HE TAKES OFF HIS HAT,

AND SHOWS US ALL A TALENT RARE,

WITH CURIOUS SHAPES WITHIN HIS CARE,

PLACE A CROSS UPON HIS HEAD,

HE TURNS AS HARD AS WEEK-OLD BREAD,

MOVE THE CROSS THEN TO HIS FEET,

AN OBLIGATION HE WILL MEET,

REMOVE THE CROSS AND ADD A MOON,

HE’LL HACK AND WHEEZE LIKE A BABOON,

BUT ONCE WE’VE ALL HAD OUT GOOD FUN,

RETURN THE HAT WHERE IT’S BEGUN,

HE’LL PERFORM HIS NAME ERE HE DEPART,

TELL ME WHAT IT IS, DEAR HEART?

SANTO: HOOOOOOLY SHIT, THAT’S A LOT OF RIDDLE.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: YOU CAN SKIP THIS ONE. UNLESS YOU LIKE A CHALLENGE.)

THEY ALL IMMEDIATELY READ IT OVER AGAIN SILENTLY AND MONET ASKS WHAT A HAT COULD MEAN. SANTO GUESSES A BASEBALL CAP OR A COWBOY HAT, BUT SOFIA SAYS THAT IT’S TOO LITERAL. CESSILY AGREES, SAYING THAT IT COULD MEAN THE TOP OF SOMETHING OR THE HEAD OF SOMETHING, AND JAY ASKS WHAT YOU DO BEFORE YOU LEAVE SOMEPLACE.

MONET: YOU COULD… SAY GOOD-BYE, SHAKE HANDS, HUG IF YOU’RE A HUGGER…

CESSILY: NONE OF THAT MATCHES THE REST OF THE RIDDLE. OKAY, EVERYONE JUST SAY A BUNCH OF YOUR FAVORITE WORDS BECAUSE WE ARE OUT OF TIME.

AFTER A BRIEF FEW SECONDS OF EVERYONE SHOUTING ‘TITS!’ AND ‘ANTIDISESTABLISHMENTARIANISM!’, THE TIMER RUNS OUT AND THE WORD BOUGH APPEARS ON THE BOARD. JAY SAYS THAT IT MAKES NO SENSE, AND JUST WHEN CLARICE ASKS HOW, EVERYONE IS WRITHING ON THE FLOOR AGAIN. SOFIA REPRIMANDS HER GIRLFRIEND WHO PROTESTS THAT SHE THOUGHT IT RHYMED WITH ‘GO’. SANTO THEN ASKS IF THEY’RE JUST TOO DUMB FOR THIS GAME.

MONET ASKS THEM IF THEY COULD FOLLOW HER TO THE WINDOW BEFORE PULLING OUT AN EXPO MARKER. SHE THEN WRITES DOWN ‘I THINK GAME LISTENS, BUT DOESN’T SEE. WANT TO TEST. COULD BE HELPFUL IF RIGHT, BUT I MIGHT BE WRONG, OK?’ THE OTHERS NOD AND THEN BRACE THEMSELVES AS MONET WRITES DOWN THE WORD ‘FUCK’. NOTHING HAPPENS.

SOFIA: OH THANK GRANDE! UH… THAT YOU BROUGHT SOMETHING TO WRITE WITH, MONET. I’M TERRIBLE AT REMEMBERING DETAILS.

WHAT IS SAID

MONET: JAY, YOU’RE UP NEXT. I KNOW THEY’RE ALL HARD CARDS RIGHT N—PRESENTLY, BUT SINCE YOU’LL BE THE FIRST ONE READING THE CARD, YOU’LL HAVE A HEAD START ON ALL OF US IN GETTING THE ANSWER. HOW GOOD ARE YOU AT RIDDLES?

JAY: KINDA BAD. THIS IS A REALLY WONDERFUL GAME THAT I LIKE PLAYING A LOT, BUT I’M NO GOOD AT IT.

SOFIA: MAYBE WE COULD READ ALL THE BOOKS IN THE LIBRARY BEFORE WE CONTINUE. IF WE GENERALLY KNOW, WE CAN ANSWER BETTER.

CESS: MAYBE WE COULD ALL TELL THE GAME HO-- THAT IT’S A GREAT GAME. IT MIGHT GO EASY ON US, NOT THAT WE DESERVE IT. IT’S WORKED SO HARD TO GIVE US A COMPLETE GAMING EXPERIENCE.

MONET: OH FOR F—SANTO, GIMME THE MARKER.

SANTO: HEY, FU---NK YOU. I HAVE SHIT TO CONTRIBUTE.

MONET: AND I WANT TO HEAR IT. WHAT IDEAS DO YOU HAVE?

SANTO: FFFFFINE. WE COULD… TRY TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE BOARD. WE COULD… TRY TO TEACH IT TO BE GOOD AND KIND AND NOT THROW US IN A PIT. WE COULD… TRY TO CONVERT IT TO MORMONISM, OR ISLAM, OR ANY OTHER RELIGION THAT DOESN’T THROW PEOPLE IN PITS. HEY, YOU WONDER WHY IT’S CALLED ‘THE PIT’? DO YOU THINK IT’S LIKE HELL OR SOMETHING? OR DO YOU THINK IT’S LIKE THE BOARD GAME VERSION OF HELL WHERE THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN IS GETTING COFFEE SPILLED ON YOU. BUT I’M BABBLING NOW, MAYBE SOMEBODY ELSE SHOULD SAY SOMETHING, Y’KNOW? TAKE SOME OF THE PRESSURE OFF ME.

JAY: I HAVE AN IDEA.

WHAT IS WRITTEN

MONET: WE ARE TOO DUMB FOR THIS GAME. AGREED?

EVERYONE NODS.

SOFIA: ANY IDEAS TO STOP PLAYING? JAY, SAY SOMETHING FLATTERING. MIGHT GET EASY RIDDLE.

CESS: RULES SAY GAME CAN’T BE DESTROYED. MAYBE USE POWERS?

MONET: NOT SURE.

CLARICE: GREAT. ANYONE ELSE HAVE AN IDEA?

SANTO: *STARTS DRAWING A PENIS ON THE WINDOW*

MONET YANKS THE MARKER AWAY FROM SANTO.

MONET: SANTO, YOU TALK. LEAVE WRITING TO US. JUST DON’T SAY A CURSED WORD, OK?

SANTO LOOKS AT HER LIKE HE’S ABOUT TO SAY SOMETHING, BUT GRUDGINGLY RELEGATES HIMSELF TO TALK DUTY.

CESS: WHAT IS WE TRICK IT?

MONET: WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

CESS: MAKE IT THINK WE BROKE A RULE WHEN WE DIDN’T. GAME CURSES US WHEN IT SHOULDN’T. THAT MEANS GAME IS CHEATING.

SOFIA: HOW CAN WE DO THAT?

CLARICE: DON’T LOOK AT ME.

JAY STRAIGHTENS AND WRITES SOMETHING IN HUGE LETTERS ON THE WINDOW. EVERYONE ELSE NODS ENTHUSIASTICALLY.

FOUR HOURS LATER, THEY ALL SIT INSIDE THE LIBRARY. THEY’VE SPENT THE LAST HOUR ARRANGING THE BOOKS INSIDE INTO EASY-TO-NAVIGATE SECTIONS, AND EVERY BOOK ON RIDDLES IS WITHIN READING DISTANCE. JAY DRAWS THE NEXT CARD AND STARTS TO READ.

I CAN GO NEAR, I CAN GO FAR,

YET CANNOT MOVE – I’M QUITE BIZARRE,

A THOUSAND NAMES DO GRACE EACH HAIR,

WHICH SPLIT TO ROOTS, BUT DO NOT TEAR,

I FEAR THE ICE, BUT NOT THE FLAME,

THUS ENDS MY POEM: SAY MY NAME.

(NOTE: THINK YOU CAN GUESS THE FINAL RIDDLE? TAKE A MOMENT TO THINK AND THEN READ ON TO SEE IF YOU WERE RIGHT.)

CESSILY THEN ASKS WHAT GOES SOMEWHERE BUT DOESN’T MOVE AND CLARICE GUESSES A STAMP. MONET SEES THAT THE GAME PIECE DOESN’T MOVE AND SAYS THAT SHE THINKS IT’S SOMETHING SIMILAR. SOFIA ASSUMES MAYBE IT COULD BE SOMETHING THAT DIVIDES, AND SANTO SAYS THAT GOING BUT NOT MOVING REMINDS HIM OF RACING. HE ASSUMES MAYBE THE ANSWER IS IN A BOOK ABOUT CARS.

MONET TRIES TO FIND A SIMILAR RIDDLE AND REACHES FOR A NEARBY BOOK BEFORE PAUSING. SHE TELLS JAY THAT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO GO TO THIS PLACE AND IT’S STARTING TO GIVE HER AN ANSWER. SHE THEN PULLS OUT A BOOK NEXT TO THE RIDDLES SECTION, THE STREET.

MONET: THE ANSWER IS A ROAD, OR A STREET.

NOBODY MOVES AND THEN THE GAME PIECE ADVANCES FIVE SPACES. MONET SAYS THAT SHE KNOWS IT MIGHT BE WASTEFUL, BUT SHE’D LIKE TO TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO SAY FUCK. YES. WHEN NOTHING HAPPENS, SANTO PUNCHES THE AIR AND ANNOUNCES THAT THEY BEAT THE GAME. THE GAME BOX STARTS TO VIBRATE, BUT SANTO GLARES AT IT.

SANTO: OH NO, MONOPOLY FROM HELL, YOU DON’T GET TO PULL THAT BULLSHIT AGAIN. THIS GAME IS OVER, BECAUSE WE CAUGHT YOU BREAKING THE RULES. RIGHT, CESS?

CESSILY: “RULE 7: CHEATING IMMEDIATELY PLACES THE GUILTY PARTY INTO THE PIT.” CHEATING INCLUDES ANYTHING AGAINST THE RULES, WHICH YOU, CURSED WORDS, DID NOT FOLLOW WHEN MONET SAID A CURSED WORD AND NOBODY GOT PUNISHED.

SOFIA: I’M SURE YOU MUST BE VERY CONFUSED AT THE MOMENT. WHICH IS WHY I’D LIKE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO OUR SEVENTH PLAYER WHOSE TIMELY BOOK PROVIDED THE ANSWER TO OUR LAST RIDDLE. COME ON OUT, LAURA!

WITH THAT, THE LIBRARY FADES, REVEALING THEIR ACTUAL LOCATION; THE DANGER ROOM. IN THE CONTROL BOOTH, X-23 GIVES THEM A THUMBS UP.

SANTO: *MOCKINGLY* “OH NO, I NEED A BOOK ABOUT CAR RACING, HEY LET’S LOOK AT SOME LAST NAMES.” LAURA, I KNOW YOU SAID YOU WERE CRAP AT RIDDLES BUT YOU TAKE HINTS LIKE A CHAMP!

THE RULE BOOK FLIES OUT OF THE BOX AND OPENS TO THE LAST PAGE, WHICH SOFIA READS ALOUD. “RULE 57: PLAYERS MUST SAY THE ANSWERS TO THEIR RIDDLES ALOUD UNLESS THEY CANNOT DO SO, IN WHICH CASE, THEY MUST COMMUNICATE THE ANSWER TO ANOTHER PLAYER WHO CAN SAY THE ANSWER ALOUD AFTER IDENTIFYING THE PLAYER WHO PROVIDED IT.” WITH THAT, MONET REVEALS A TELEPATHIC PROJECTION OF A FEW MINUTES AGO WHEN SHE SAID SHE FELT LIKE THE PLACE WAS GIVING HER AN ANSWER.

CESSILY: FACT 1: YOU NEGLECTED TO SAY WHERE THE PLAYER COULD BE WHEN THEY COULDN’T TALK. FACT 2: LAURA CONVEYED HER ANSWERS THROUGH THE DANGER ROOM. FACT 3: MONET IDENTIFIED THE ANSWER AS COMING FROM THIS PLACE, AKA THE DANGER ROOM. WE FOLLOWED THE RULES, YOU DID NOT.

CLARICE: EAT THE PIT, WANNABE JUMANJI!

JAY: WAIT, I THOUGHT WE HAD COMPARED IT TO UNCANNY ANNIE.

CLARICE: YEAH, THAT TOO.

SUDDENLY, THE GAME BOARD STARTS CURLING AT THE CORNERS AS THOUGH AN INVISIBLE STRAW IS SUCKING IT DOWN. IT ULTIMATELY COLLAPSES ON ITSELF, GOING DOWN UNTIL IT IS NO MORE. CLARICE PUTS AN ARM AROUND SOFIA AND SAYS THAT SHE HAS A FEELING THAT NOW, THE GAME ISN’T THE ONLY THING THAT’S GOING TO BE GOING DOWN ON SOMETHING TONIGHT. CESSILY STICKS OUT HER TONGUE AT THE INNUENDO AND THEN THANKS LAURA FOR HELPING. JAY THEN STARTS TO SAY ‘NOW’ AND WINCES BEFORE REMEMBERING THAT -OW WORDS AREN’T CURSED ANYMORE.

JAY: NOW, I DUNNO ABOUT YOU, BUT I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO GET DRUNK AND WATCH HORROR MOVIES.

SOFIA: DITTO! I MIGHT HAVE ONE IN MIND…

CLARICE FACEPALMS AND SAYS THAT AFTERWARDS, THEY’RE WATCHING FUNHOUSE. AS THEY ALL WALK OUT OF THE DANGER ROOM, MONET THEN ANNOUNCES THAT SHE DOESN’T WANT TO PLAY GAMES WITH THEM ANYMORE.

#new x men #sofia mantega #cessily kincaid #laura kinney #clarice ferguson #jay guthrie #julian keller #santo vaccarro #monet st croix

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laresearchette · 2 years ago

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Tuesday, March 21, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES? CHILDREN OF THE CORN (2023) (Shudder) RESTAURANTS AT THE END OF THE WORLD (TLC Canada) 10:00pm

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CRAVE TV STILL I SING

NETFLIX CANADA WE LOST OUR HUMAN

LGT WORLD WOMEN’S CURLING CHAMPIONSHIP (TSN/TSN4) 9:00am: Canada vs. Switzerland (TSN/TSN4) 2:00pm: New Zealand vs. Canada

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 1:00pm: Tigers vs. Yankees

NHL HOCKEY (SNWest) 7:00pm: Wild vs. Devils (TSN2) 7:00pm: Lightning vs. Habs (TSN5) 7:00pm: Sens vs. Bruins (TSN4) 7:30pm: Leafs vs. Islanders (TSN3) 8:00pm: Coyotes vs. Jets (SNWest) 10:00pm: Flames vs. Ducks (SNPacific) 10:30pm: Knights vs. Canucks

NBA BASKETBALL (SN1) 7:30pm: Nuggets vs. Raptors (TSN) 7:30pm: Cavaliers vs. Nets (SN360) 10:30pm: Thunder vs. Clippers

CHUCK AND THE FIRST PEOPLES' KITCHEN (APTN) 7:30pm: Ekuanitshit, QC: In Ekuanitshit, Chuck learns all about harvesting and cooking whelk, a sea snail; he meets Rita Mestokosho, a writer, poet, and councilor for culture and education in the Innu Nation; Chuck meets Guy Vigneault, the director of a 10-boat fleet.

22 MINUTES (CBC) 8:00pm: Wonder drugs and a Juno streaker!

CANADA'S GOT TALENT (City TV) 8:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Host Lindsay Ell and judges Howie Mandel, Lilly Singh, Trish Stratus and Kardinal Offishall return to Niagara Falls in hopes of finding a Canadian talent worthy of becoming an international star.

MARY MAKES IT EASY (CTV Life) 8:00pm: Picnic and Choose. What does that mean?

KARENA AND KASEY'S FOREIGN FLAVOURS (APTN) 8:00pm: Malaysia

WILD ROSE VET (Cottage Life) 8:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): A turtle named Knuckles needs help with some shell issues and a pig named Missy has a bad case of the flu.

SON OF A CRITCH (CBC) 8:30pm: When Fox’s father gets arrested, Mark lobbies his father not to report on the crime. Meanwhile, Pop and Mary steal cable with a descrambler.

WORKIN' MOMS (CBC) 9:00pm: A Jenny-organized school fun fair brings everybody together for a day of festivities and life-changing decisions.

HUDSON & REX (City TV) 9:00pm: When Jesse's sister contacts him for help, Jesse, Sarah and Rex head to Northern Ontario and find themselves in the middle of a deadly situation.

MEET, MARRY, MURDER (Lifetime Canada) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Despite a rocky start, Savannah and Trent Paschal seem like the perfect suburban couple; their romance ends in suspicion, jealousy and a countrywide police hunt after murder is caught on camera.

PAWN STARS (History Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Rick prepares for battle over a pair of vintage posters; Rick and Chum check out a large Battle Cat toy; Corey takes a look at an old fireman's megaphone; Chum heads over to a photo gallery to see a shot of a lifetime.

GOLD RUSH: PAY DIRT (Discovery Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): With added scenes and bonus features; Parker drops a bombshell on his crew to make up for the debacle in Alaska; Fred faces off with his son over the night shift; Tony's crew cashes out for the season.

HAUNTINGS (T&E) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): When Andrea Perron moved into her new home in Rhode Island with her parents and four sisters, the previous occupants seemed in a hurry to leave; "for the sake of your family, leave the lights on in this house at night," they told her father, Roger.

A DATE WITH DANGER (Super Chanel Fuse) 9:00pm: A single mom is looking for a fresh start in a new town when she befriends a boutique owner. After her new friend goes missing, she begins to suspect her neighbor of the crime.

CASUAL (CBC) 9:30pm: Alex’s secret profile gets its first real match. Laura bonds with Michael after her sex tape goes viral at school. Valerie gets closure with her ex-husband.

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #chuck and the first people's kitchen #this hour has 22 minutes #canada's got talent #mary makes it easy #karena and kasey's foreign flavours #wild rose vet #son of a critch #workin moms #hudson & rex #casual #curling #mlb baseball #nhl hockey #nba basketball

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officialladynoirette · 6 years ago

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PV Appreciation Week 3: Vile and Villainous/ Shut Up and Dance!

Name: Fredrick Bonnefroy Age: 40 Occupation: Ex-Mechanic, Mercenary Relatives: Penelope Bonnefroy (spouse), Claude Bonnefroy (son) Alias: Monsieur Mime

I have a lot of thoughts about the Mime family and please excuse my exuberance as this is my chance to spill it all

History: Fredrick Bonnefroy lived a relatively normal life, went to school but had to drop out and work in his family’s car shop when finances became too strained. Despite his lack of education, he isn’t dumb by any means. He’s very tactile in his learning and is especially intrigued by how objects are made are made and produced. Knowing how things are made and the cause and effects of them makes him especially handy in the field of mechanics. He met his wife Penelope while working on her car and the two hit it off immediately.

Along with his working in the shop, he also took to becoming a street performing mime as a side job to pick up some extra cash. Even if it was sometimes at his expense, he saw no harm in the hobby. However, natural curiosity pushed him into looking for ways to make his act much more believable and he unknowingly stumbled across the world of magic and charms. His act improved greatly and there was no question that what Fred had been able to achieve was impressive. It wasn’t until he started noticing small changes that he realized what was once innocent dabbling in magic turned dark as unexpected consequences began to set in.

The price of magic coursing through his veins showed superficially in the beginning. His skin began to turn blue, first at his fingertips which in time would spread to the rest of his body. The markings on his face which he used to apply with makeup became permanent and his hair lost it’s color to become a light blonde. But most notably he lost his voice, the vow of silence mimicking that of the mime and the final part of his transformation into a fully magic mime. It doesn’t take long for the powerful to become feared in wake of people who don’t understand.

During the start of it however, Penelope became pregnant and unbeknownst to the both of them, the same mime powers passed from Fredrick into Claude. With a wife and toddler, Fredrick tried his best to stop the transformation but to no avail, hitting dead end after dead end to fix it. Still, he used the powers to give fantastic shows and catches the eye of the future villain known as Papillion or Monarch. Fredrick is met with an offer of substantial payment and a promise to help him be free of the repercussions of his magical pursuits and agrees to the long term contract.

Over the years he works with Papillion, he creates a friendship and a steadfast loyalty to his employer. Later on when orders lead to more dangerous projects, Fredrick finds being a part of the seedier underground side of Paris didn’t phase him. Paris had never done him any favors so he was simply returning the fact. It’s whenever the goal is within grasp and a rag tag team of supers stand in his way that Fredrick adopts the alias of Mr. Mime and chooses to fight.

Powers: Fredrick’s abilities allow him to mime objects and to be able to see those mimed by others. The smaller an item is and closer proximity, the less he has to focus on maintaining it rather than something large/large quantity and at a distance. Both he and Claude have the same type of miming ability. They are only limited by their imagination which Claude does have more of in comparison. However, Fredrick has more technical know how and in turn it makes his mimed objects more ‘powerful’ (i.e. Claude makes a standard stick of dynamite vs Fredrick making a stick of dynamite with more combustible powders he knows will give a stronger charge).

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squish-o-blair · 2 years ago

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So I got bored and decided to compile all the lore revealed in the Sonic Twitter Takeovers.

I've highlighted in Green stuff that could be (or is) canon to the games (AKA stuff that's canon, isn't contradicted in canon, or isn't some meta joke), in red is stuff that definitely isn't canon, and the rest you can make your own decision on.

-This is just regular lore but "Ivo" in "Ivo Robotnik" is pronounced "Evo" it's supposed to sound like "evil"

-Eggman is a PC gamer

-Eggman might not be able to swim

-Eggman is in smash he's just super hard to unlock

-Eggman wants to take over the world because "It's Friday" (in other words it's implied that most Sonic games take place or at least START on a Friday.)

-Eggman can't get any bitches

-Eggman works out

-The Sega Saturn is Eggman's favorite Sega console

-Eggman's a fan of old show tunes and lullabies

-There's an Eggman empire lot in North Hollywood

-Eggman has a cat he calls "Biggy Wiggy"

-Eggman is fan of Tokyo Ghoul and Chainsaw Man

-Eggman is Youtuber Cobanermani456's father

-The Egg Pawns have names (one is named Fred)

-Eggman and Sonic hang out sometimes

-Sonic and Eggman are both streamers

-Roger Craig Smith is a fake alias used by Sonic

-Sonic shares a universe with Assassin's Creed and Sonic and Eggman once kidnapped Ezio

-Sonic's a shitty gamer

-Sega is Sonic's agent

-The Sega Genesis is Sonic's favorite Sega console

-Sonic's a fan of Mongolian throat singing

-Sonic is salty about reviewers who continue to bring up Sonic 06

-Sonic's favorite Sonic games are Sonic Boom Rise of Lyric and Sonic Frontiers

-Sonic's favorite movie is Chao in Space (even though he hasn't seen it)

-Tails hacked Eggman's Twitter account (which eggman stole from Sonic) via a "lonley robots in your area" virus

-Tails is a My Hero Academia fan

-Tails is fucking ripped

-Tails is a pro among us gamer

-All their gloves stay clean because of a special polymer that Tails made

-Tails is an Acapella fan

-it took Shadow until the aftermath of Forces to find the damn 4th Chaos emerald

-Shadow only uses Android phones

-Shadow is a Breaking Bad fan

-Shadow has killed a real life person and plans to kill more

-The Dreamcast is Shadow's favorite Sega Console

-Shadow's a fan of classic rock

-Shadow is a fan of anime (specifically Kill La Kill)

-Shadow eats coffee beans raw with a spoon

-Shadow is good friends with Big and Knuckles (more-so than Sonic)

-Shadow hates Capitalism

-Shadow donates his rings to charity

-Shadow shops at a convenience store named "Maria" and feels like if he can support some Maria out there, then he feels like he's making the world a better place

-Shadow has a soft spot for kittens and wants to open a cat orphanage

-Shadow's favorite movie is Chao in Space 3 (which he features in)

-Shadow is a fan of Infinite's theme

-Shadow writes poetry

-Shadow and Maria ordered pizza on the ARK that came from Earth

-Doom's eye is still alive, him and Shadow occasionally go out for dinner

-Shadow is the living embodiment of drip

-Shadow very heterosexually hypes up Knuckles a lot

-Shadow specifically tried to keep Sonic away from him during the final boss of SA2 because he knew Sonic would've fell to Earth too if he tried to rescue him

-Despite all the issues Shadow has with Sonic's methods and morals, he doesn't hate him

-Shadow is a bad cook

-Shadow is (or will be) legally married to @/RealShadowFan01 on Twitter

EDIT: the wedding's off :(

-Shadow is panromatic/pansexual

-Shadow volunteers at soup kitchens

-The Shadow Dark Chao seen in promo art and the IDW comics does in fact belong to Shadow

-Shadow and Amy are both huge Taylor Swift fans

-Amy's favorite Sonic game is Sonic Heroes

-Amy is a Fruits Basket fan

-Amy still visits Little Planet and makes jewelry out of gems found in Quartz Quadrant

-Knuckles collects rocks that look like animals

-Knuckles is a Lizzo fan

-Knuckles, Cream, and Vanilla are big One Punch Man fans

-Chaos Control is activated by literally just holding the emerald and shouting "chaos control" that's it, anyone can do it.

-On the Planet Wisp, Hide and Seek is called "Don't be seen or perish" and whoever gets found is tossed into the volcano on Planet Wisp

-Yaker died once

-They physically can't take their gloves off

-The Sonic OVA is canon

-Mean Beans are living beings

-Grounder is canon

-Metal Sonic is a series of multiple robots and not just one that gets repaired each time (this probably isn't canon anymore)

-Infinite is still alive

-Infinite occasionally sends Eggman gay Sonadow porn

-Charmy runs a thrift store

-The stone tablet in Frontiers translates to sonic version of the Bee Movie script

-Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, and Shadow, all work in an unknown office somewhere

Things that exist in Sonic Universe (all of these could be red. You decide man idk):

-Twitter

-All forms of Sonic media (including games, comics, and TV shows) (they're retellings of Sonic's stories)

-Summer of Sonic

-Sonic Stadium

-Sega

-Undertale the game (and specifically Sans as a fictional character) and Toby Fox

-Game Grumps (specifically Jontron era)

-Tootsie pops (big day for tootsie pop Sonic fans)

-The Macarena

-Twitch

-Sonic songs (Escape from the City, Live and Learn, E.G.G.M.A.N., Believe in Myself, Infinite, and Vandelize are mentioned by name or referenced.)

-Cobanermani456

-Hulu

-Tyson Hesse

-Super Smash Bros (both as an event AND an in universe video game)

-SiivaGunner and GilvaSunner

-Hyper Potions

-Crush 40

-San Diego

-Apple

-Sega HARDlight

-Breaking Bad

-Sonadow porn

-Spike Chunsoft

-The Danganronpa Games (or at least V3)

-Etika

-North Hollywood

-Kill la Kill

-regular ass cats (not like Blaze, just normal real life cats) (also regular dogs)

-Alpharad

-Jacksepticeye

-Patreon

-Youtube

-Xbox

-Playstation

-Nintendo Switch

-The Completionist

-Gushers

-The "you know I had to do it to em" meme

-Tokyo Ghoul

-My Hero Academia

-Global Giving

-St. Jude

-Extra Life

-Hot Topic

-What does the Fox say

-Tee Lopes

-Tyler Smyth

-Sam's Procastionation Station

-Elsie Fisher

-Barry Kramer

-RubberNinja

-Sonamy fans

-Caddicarus

-Mario

-Among Us

-Colleen O'Shaughnessy

-Youtube

-Fadel Gamescage

-Lizzo

-Taylor Swift

-Elon Musk (implied)

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #dr. eggman #eggman #miles tails prower #Knuckles the Echidna #Shadow the hedgehog #Amy Rose #Sonic Lore #Yaker #Wisps #Planet Wisp #Black Doom #Doom's Eye #Cream the Rabbit #Vanilla the Rabbit #Metal Sonic #Charmy Bee #Infinite

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transmogrified-in-the-void · 3 years ago

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okay im gonna go more into my thoughts from this post

to very briefly summarize, every mind that raz goes into, some of it comes out with him, but never enough to like be too noticeable at first. i kind of want them to have a sort of physical representation that just kind of sticks to him when he leaves and then appears inside raz’s own mental world in some place. anyways im gonna be putting all my thoughts under the cut.

fair warning this lowkey got away from me while simultaneously making me a lil tired and i ended up wording my ideas in a weird way ;-;

the only worlds that don’t latch onto raz are sasha’s, milla’s, and coach’s, if only because those are like, classes that they are in more control over rather than just popping into someone’s mind. but everything else? those latch onto him, and try to leave, which ends up with parts of them just sticking inside his head and melding with it.

so to start the first mind you ever go into (that has nothing to do with the ones stated above) is lungfishopolis. the mind of linda the lungfish, who had been controlled by coach. of all the worlds, probably the one that is the least noticeable, because what comes with raz when he leaves is one of the rebels. they hold onto the cuff of his pants as he leaves, small voice screaming as it dissipates and melds and appears outside a very, very large caravan. it takes time for the rebel to fully assimilate into raz’s mind, as it does with most of them, but it appears in the form of the words ‘goggalor’ written on the walls, and the sensation of the power of being free.

the next one is boyd, the milkman’s. what follows raz out was put inside his bag the moment the Milkman woke up. he was too busy watching the milkman rise to see a bottle of milk slide into his bag. of all the things that stowed away, this is the one that integrates the quickest. hidden bottles of milk, full of pyromania and paranoia.

raz wouldn’t even mean to take gloria’s scripts with him, tucked away in his bag and hidden from his sight. they laid inside the caravan, collecting dust, before slowly, slowly morphing into audition sheets with raz’s name written in every space. ‘prove yourself’ is written at the top. ‘prove your worth’

in all the chaos that was the matador, he didn’t even notice the card stuck in his back pocket. a card that, when given time to meld with his mind, became luminescent paint that decorated every dark corner, filling it with vigor. the will to fight, and the will to let go (but eventually paint fades, and that feeling slowly disappeared).

Fred Bonaparte’s mind was ever shifting, in size at least, and from the first moment that raz started moving pieces it was guaranteed that something would stay. it’s almost surprising how early on a piece of the board had jumped into raz’s bag, from the first moment he TK’d the carpenter, a piece made the leap and stayed. these stayed in the dark corners, like teglee’s paint. only instead of the will to fight, these were pieces, pawns, the idea that sometimes loss was necessary to win. in the dark corners of raz’s mind, a child who risked himself time and time again for others, that loss was his own mind. a loss that had already started to encroach.

the meat circus was complicated. a mix of two minds, turned into a horror show fueled by parental issues and trauma. no, nothing stayed from this world, because everything in it already existed in raz’s head to begin with.

lady lucktopus was, by far, the most insidious one to fall inside raz’s mind. if only because of what it represented. although forsythe no longer had a gambling addiction, the pieces that attached to raz came from that mental state. embedded inside the walls, poker chips hide under a layer of rock, taking raz’s risk-taking behavior and slowly, slowly making it grow.

cruller’s mind pieces don’t appear until the very end, when raz is falling through the healed mind. a stamp, shoe disinfectant, and a comb find their way into raz’s bag, and hide behind the rock like the poker chips when they assimilate into raz’s mind. endless guilt, the ability to never let go of it, stuck inside his mind. this is the beginning, but the beginning of what? of the end, or the start?

the piece of helmut that stays is far more insidious than the others. what stays with raz is a tune, something that melds inside the caravan, mixing and turning into the music that plays during the aquato family circus acts, but there’s. there’s something else in it. a sense of lonliness, dispair, hope, love. emotion, more emotion than raz has ever felt in his life.

the book that follows raz out of cassie o’pia’s world has no title and no words, and in time makes a hidden library full of every memory raz has ever had, kept by every version of himself that he’s ever had to make. there’s an acrobat, a psychonaut, and, hidden in the very back of the library, is the Child.

the bits of food that stick to raz from boole’s world is just enough to make a difference, if only to add small strawberry plants that grow outside the caravan that is raz’s mind. strawberries that taste of strength and persistence and sense of self, far away from the amalgamation that is inside.

raz didnt know that some pollen from bob zanotto’s garden had gotten onto his jacket, but even if he had, it would have been to late. plants that resemble his family, everyone he ever looked up to, even the other junior psychonauts, pop up. they never say anything, only watch. watch as slowly, with every integration into raz’s mind over the course of a few months, it changes.

and raz goes from being a talented, enthusiastic, still very young 10 year old to someone who experiences intense bouts of emotion, who has put himself in the line of fire in the physical world to help someone, who has taken risk upon risk upon risk to make sure that everyone was safe, to a near obsessive level. every time someone was hurt, he’d beat himself up about it.

when it was decided, after finally, finally realizing that something was wrong (adam had sprained his wrist, raz had a breakdown), they sent sasha in to make sure everything was okay, to check up on him because sasha was the only one who had any idea what raz’s mind had looked like.

and instead of seeing a caravan, the place he was born, instead there was a circus made of stone and paint, with posters of raz titled ‘prove yourself’. music plays, people are paying with poker chips, the crowd is made of stamps and disinfectant and combs and game pieces. plants of faces that fill raz’s past run concessions of milk without saying a word. far up is the Psychonaut, and farther up still is the Acrobat. and in the dark corner, where flakes of paint litter the ground and small strawberry plants grow, is the torn remains of a Child.

#psychonauts #razputin aquato #GOD i have so many thoughts!!!#uh idk how else to tag this #angst?

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potter-imagines · 4 years ago

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Not Like The Movies (Fred Weasley)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: Fred Weasley imagine where him and Angelina are kind of “talking” but the reader and Angelina are really good friends and she doesn’t know that there “talking” so when Angelina tells her, she seems okay with it, “it’s not like I’ve liked him since first year.” And since she’s on the quidditch team, she kind of drops out. And starts to hung out more with Cedric and that’s when Fred gets jealous and realizes it was never Angelina but the reader. the whole reason he liked Angelina was because of some letters she gave him but she never wrote them, the reader did...Happy ending with Fred and reader.

Warning: None, just swearing and lil angst

Word Count: 11.7k (got carried away, soooo sorry)

Falling in love with your best friend was nothing short of a curse for you. Sadly, life was not like the movies and sometimes, the person you’re in love with just simply does not feel the same. Movies promised you magic. Laughing and crying, music swelling, camera panning, and always a happy, or satisfying ending. Late at night when you would fall asleep, the image of your best friend would flash across your mind, encapsulating your subconscious. You pictured him lying beside you, telling you jokes and holding you in his arms. You dreamed about what it was like to be his, to call him yours. You thought about how it would feel as he gently strokes your cheek with his palm and his lips find yours. The camera sweeps and falls. We fade to black and everytime, your eyes open from your sleep and the movie comes to an end.

Having grown up with the boy and his twin, falling in love was the easy part; admitting your feelings became the obstacle. It put a slight wedge between your friendship with Fred. You hated how easy it was to fall for him. His stupid laugh, stupid smile, stupid heart, stupid kindess, everything about him was so stupidly loveable.

Although Fred didn’t exactly give you reasons to not feel this way. In actuality, Fred Weasley made it nearly impossible not to fall in love with him. It started with meeting you in the common room each morning and escorting you around the castle, sometimes with George but mostly alone. He’d ‘jokingly’ hold your hand, swinging it widely back and forth as you skipped down the halls. During Qudditch, his attention always trailed off the tracks to you, even when he was miles up in the sky flying around. His eyes would dart to you, just to confirm that you were okay. He was your go to study buddy- although it would typically consist of whispering jokes and talking about your day, rather than studying. Fred was always the one to invite you to his home for break, not that his other siblings didn’t want you, Fred just wanted to be the one who got to ask you. During parties in the common room, you were glued to his side. Fred would toss his arm around your shoulder casually as you sat with your friends. He’d cuddle you on the couch while you chatted away with your friends. You two were never safe from the teasing of your friends, especially George. George Weasley had been pawning for you and his brother to get together since his second year.

Now, there was never an official title given to your uh, predicament. This didn’t mean that people weren’t aware of what was occurring. Hell, even Ron was in on the loop. So, it wasn’t hard for everyone else in the Gryffindor common room to comprehend your shock and anger when you walked in only to find Fred Weasley practically snogging Angelina Johnson on the main couch. Your mouth dropped instantly and your eyes were bugging. And everyone was looking between the pair, and your sudden entrance.

You felt like the ringleader at a circus and all the audience had their eyes on you, the crowd consisting of your few friends who knew your feelings. The voice in your head screamed at you to take action- to go rip Angelina off Fred’s lap and toss her to the ground. It was a vile urge, one that never popped in your thoughts before now. Burning holes into their heads you narrowed your gaze as Angelina snaked her arm around Fred’s broad shoulder, leaning her body into the touch. As if it was second nature, Fred’s arm slipped around her wait, snatching her body forward with a cheeky wink. Your mouth went dry, sahara desert dry. The inside of your stomach coiled into tight knots, a sickening sensation budding. An echoing scream filled your mind, yelling at you to look away, just look away Y/n. Something building, maybe curiosity or maybe disbelief, simply wouldn’t allow this.

Hermione pulled at your hand, silently begging you to walk away with her. You hear the sound of her demanding voice whispering to you, although you neglected to process them. Neither Fred nor Angelina seemed to notice all the attention- if they did, they did a good job hiding it. An indescribable mix of emotion brewed; Angelina Johnson was your close friend next to Hermione. Since first year, she has been your roommate, your potions partner, a chaser just like you, and an amazing friend. She even spent a month of the summer holiday at your home, for crying out loud! You wanted to be angry, you wanted so bad to just scold Angelina and tell her how bad the sight was before you hurt to watch, but you couldn’t. Despite your solid friendship, Angelina was never informed on the feelings you had developed for Fred. In second year you had confessed to her that you had a small crush on the twin, but nothing else ever came. Of course you didn’t know Angelina had liked Fred either. Angelina, Fred, George, and yourself were all in the same school year and house so naturally a friendship arose. As years dwindled on, Angelina drifted away a bit and started spending more time with Alicia Spinott and Katie Bell. You still made time for each other- not to mention living together and spending at least a few hours each day together.

But when Angelina shifted groups, it left you room to grow closer with Fred and George. By your third year, Lee had filled in Angelina’s spot and the four of you raked havoc among Hogwarts. Lee Jordan was a great friend, he always let you sit up in the announcing booth during Quidditch matches when Gryffindor wasn’t playing. In those cases, he was vocally cheering you on through the microphone as you raced around the pitch. When it came to Fred and George, there was a different type of bond you created. You had spent nights on end sprawled around the dorm room of the Weasley twins, chatting about everything and nothing for hours. They invited you in on their pranks, showed you their prized Marauders Map, brought you to The Burrow for holidays, bought you presents for Christmas/birthdays, visited you during the summer, and more. The three of you always sat together in class, sometimes making Lee move a table over. It was always the three of you. Somewhere along the way, you started looking at one twin in particular in a different light. Both were handsome, but something about Fred made your heart race. Everytime his hand brushed against your during class, an electric tingle shot through your spine. He was protective over you, in a brotherly way you assumed, but it was sweet nonetheless. Even during matches Fred always kept an eye out for you on the Quidditch pitch. Never did he miss the chance to gloat about how he basically saved your life three different times. After a long day of class, the two of you would sometimes cuddle on the couch in the common room or in his dorm while talking with George. It was a running joke among your friends about the two of you dating. George loved to tease you two, making kissy faces and telling the two of you to ‘get together already’. George was certainly not the first, nor only, person to make such comments to Fred and yourself. Hermione asked weekly when you would start dating, Harry would question every so often, Ginny asked every hour when you’d get married, and Ron hardly paid enough attention to notice anything occurring.

Pestering and prodding, their questions remained unanswered. You never quite knew what to say, but George, Hermione, Ginny, and even Harry, knew. They kept silent in your presence. Behind closed doors, they seemed to have figured it out. Ron was present for all this but once again, he really didn’t care much to give an overload of input. He wasn’t too interested though and only came to feel a part of the discussion.

The person they couldn’t figure out was Fred Weasley. For the first time in his life, George couldn’t give a solid answer on how his twin was feeling. Typically, George always knew. He was certain Fred had fancied you when they were younger but now in your sixth year, it was hard for him to tell. The two of you had been flirting for years and even though it increased with every year, no actual moves ever came. George wondered if it truly was just flirting in Fred’s mind. Everytime he tiptoed near the topic of Fred’s feelings for you and if he had any, Fred shut it down in an instant. He’d tell George to ‘sod off’ and refused to speak on it. It gave George jumbled ideas.

So when Hermione came up with the idea of you spilling your feeling for Fred in an anonymous letter, it was an appealing thought. George toyed with the plan, a strange pang pulling in his guts told him this was a bad idea. He didn’t know why, but George was scared something would go wrong. He still hadn’t gotten a proper grasp on Fred’s feelings yet. If there was even a chance Fred would decline your confession of heart, George would feel terribly guilty for setting you up to fall. Harry sat this conversation out with Ron, not feeling like it was his place to be this involved. Ginny was in agreement with Hermione, of course, but George kept pushing for them to rethink. Although it was too late, you were already mentally planning a letter.

A week later you nervously handed George a small envelope. Inside was a folded up piece of parchment and in black ink was the words of your emptying out your heart to Fred. You dedicated a small poem to him, then on another page, you dropped small hints about your identity. You included memories, such as meeting on the Hogwarts Express, playing Quidditch together, trips to Hogsmeade, late nights talk, and more. Part of you hoped he solved the mystery right away. The larger part of you crossed your fingers that he felt the same way.

Taking your letter, George was sweating in fear. He had never been so unsure of his brother’s reaction in his life. There were many different ways this could go; the main two being either really really well, or really really bad. For some reason, George was leaning towards the latter.

Hermione on the other hand insisted Fred felt the same. She could sense it, whatever that means. You knew your friend was the most brilliant witch of your time, but she seemed wrong about this one. And now, as you stood staring at your roommate and best friend snuggled up on the couch you were just cuddling with him on last week, Hermione most definitely seemed to be wrong about this one.

Before you got the chance to see Fred and Angelina take their exchanges any further, a tall frame stepped in front of you, blocking your path of sight. Tilting your head up you were met with the soft, pitiful eyes of George Weasley. The other half of your trio reached out and held your shoulders in his hands, gripping your focus.

“We need to talk.”

Hermione followed George up to her door without creating any commotion. They didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention who would question their exit, especially Fred or Angelina. Speaking of which, Hermione led you and George to her dorm as it seemed to be the only chance of you not having to face either of the pair. Slamming the door with a huff, Hermione spun around and pointed to the tall Weasley shifting awkwardly.

“So what the bloody hell was that, George?” Hermione cut through the tension with her sharp words. You refused to meet either of their eyes. The lazer like study of George melting into the side of your head. Your friend slugged over to the bed across from Hermione’s and plopped down. A heavy, tiresome, sigh fell from his lips.

“I just found out last night- I had no clue until Fred told me last night. She was leaving and… I’m just as lost as you guys.”

“What about the letter?” Hermione crossed her arms, starting over at George in anticipation.

“Lee told Fred ‘bout how he saw Angelina by our dorm earlier last week so Fred thinks she’s the one who wrote the letter. Guess it made him interested in her- I don’t know if he asked her about them or not but I guess they went out last week and now they’re… a thing? I don’t know, I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know what to say, he just told me about it right before you came in. I wouldn’t have let you walk in that otherwise- Y/n I swear on that.” Shaking your head, you could feel the emotions bottling up to a spillage. Running a hand over your reddening face you expressed,n

“I know, George. It’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you, I could never. Just mad at the situation. I was stupid to think it would work between us.”

Hermione sat on the end of her bed, her eyes glaring out the window. Her head snapped in your direction. Mouth crack open ajar, her angry expression turned to disbelief and guilt. Shaking her head back and forth she exclaimed,

“It was my idea for you to write the letter, Y/n. I’m the one who should be apologizing for getting you into this mess-”

“No really, it’s not your guys fault. It’s no ones. If Fred likes Angelina then, he likes Angelina. I can’t change that and telling him I was the one who wrote the letter certainly won’t change that either. Love fucking sucks!” You shouted. George’s hands fumbled in his lap as he desperately tried to avoid your frame. He wasn’t sure he could handle the image. To George, the responsibility lay upon his shoulders but his heart suddenly broke into million tiny pieces when he registered the small sobe choking out. The tears uncontrollably began to roll. You covered your mouth as you fell back into the bed sheets. Salty tears streamed down your cheeks, skipping down the skin. They poured from the side of her skin, splashing against the blanket underneath her.

The familiar grip of George wrapped around your body in an instant. Hermione attached herself as well, the two of them comforting you together. It was soothing to feel his hands rubbing against your back, and Hermione’s head resting on your shoulder.

“Y/n, no, no, please don’t cry, love. Please- shit Y/n, I’m so sorry.” You slumped into their arms, allowing their hugs.

George decided to stay for a few hours. The three of you just laid in Hermione’s bed chatting quietly about everything and anything except Fred Weasley. They made an effort to weave every conversation away from that danger zone. George placed a pillow in his lap, allowing you a seat for your head. Hermione’s bed wasn’t big enough for the three of you to sit spaciously so, he made do. Besides, George was your best friend so it was far more natural for him to cuddle with you than Hermione. He was sure Ron would have an earful for him if that was the case. Hermione sat with her back against the bed frame similar to George. His hands petted your hair delicately, lulling you into a deep sleep. Exhaustion from tears and disappointment, your slumber arrived quickly. As your light snores bounced off the stone walls of Hermione’s dorm room, she nudged George. He looked over in a second with a curious gaze.

“Does he really like her? Angelina?” She whispered the words so faint, they almost went unnoticed to George.

“I don’t know, Hermione. I mean… he’s my bloody twin and never has he ever even mentioned finding her attractive let alone wanting to date her. It’s all just… shocking. I should get going soon, though. Catch him before he goes to bed and maybe then I can get some answers.” George slowly lifted from the bed. He set his hand behind your head for support as he moved the pillow. As light as a feather, he placed your head down on the pillow and backed away as quiet as a mouse. The clock was approaching two in the morning and his heavy lids were starting to collapse. It wasn’t a terrible walk to his room, but it also wasn’t lightning speed. His sleepiness was taking over and if he fell asleep in Hermione’s bed with both her and you, he’d be expelled before sunrise, no matter the circumstance.

Hermione nodded and slipped down so she was laying in her bed. She

“Alright, George. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taking a step out the door, the tall boy stuck his head back

“You want me to carry her up to her room?” He asked kindly. Hermione looked up at him, clearly doubtful on his offer. “For some reason, I don’t think Y/n will be too pleased to wake up in the same room as Angelina.” They both laughed, careful not to wake you. George mentally face palmed.

“Right. Can’t say that doesn’t make sense. Uh, goodnight, Hermione. Thanks for staying with her.” George mumbled awkwardly. The young witch just smiled and waved to him.

“Of course. Goodnight, George.”

By the time George had trudged back to his room, Fred was passed out, sleeping on top of his blankets instead of under, so George decided to hold off on setting his twin right. As he fell asleep, his thoughts worried about you. He was scared you would hide yourself away, detach from him in order to keep distance from his twin. George considered you to be his best friend, and having you hurt by the actions of his brother made him feel like shit. He found himself praying to whatever god might be listening that when the sun peaked up behind the darkness, you would be okay. Although when morning came, no one could find you. Hermione informed George that you had sneaked out early when the sun rose and she had yet to see you since.

Fred stumbled down the steps and into the common room around noon, rubbing his eyes in a groggy state. His feet dragged across the floor resembling more of a zombie than a human. Just as he entered, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing from the leather sofa heading for the portrait. Ron was the one who noticed Fred and happily invited him along for their lunchtime run. This earned an overdramatic roll of the eyes from Hermione and an awkward wince from Harry. The not so subtle gesture made Fred tilt his head. Nonetheless, he agreed, placing himself at George’s side and giving him a side hug.

The five took off for the dinning hall, making small talk as they went.

George’s jaw hit the floor as he waltzed into the Great Hall only to find you sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table with Cedric Diggory. He stood, the wind knocked out of him in utter astonishment. Based on the events of the night before, he was expecting you to be still cuddled into Hermione’s bed, or eyes brimming with tears, but you were the exact opposite. A bright, million dollar smile shined from your face. George could hear your laughter from the adjacent direction of the dinning hall. Cedric was sitting beside you, his arms resting on the table as his eyes gazed at you. Everyone knew you guys were friends but it was more, acquaintances or classmates rather than best friends. He pondered if this was your act of retaliation against Fred getting with Angelina- or maybe you truly were trying to move on. No matter the reality, George knew this wasn’t just two friends catching up, and if that was the case, you two had a weird way of showing it.

The sight made a large grin creep to Hermione’s lips. Harry and Ron were completely lost in translation as to why you were sitting with him and Fred, well Fred was livid. So livid the shade of his cheeks was an exact match to the shade of his hair, and everyone saw it. He stopped walking and, quite loudly, choked on the thick air of the room. Some looked over at the sound, intrigued George kicked at the back of his shoe, signaling Fred to keep walking. He obliged, but his focus stayed trained on you and Cedric. At their movement, he slowly lifted his head and was greeted with the fiery eyes of Fred. A teasing smirk hit his lips which only made the fire burning inside Fred blaze harder. Cedric leaned down softly to whisper in your ear, his words making your turn to glance at your friends. You sent them a wave, then turned back to Cedric. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t bring you a slight joy to see the visible reaction of Fred.

George dragged his brother to the Gryffindor table, practically shoving him into a seat. He sat down next to him as the rest of the group took the seats around them. All their friends were staring at Fred, waiting for his next move.

Smacking his fist on the tabletop in vexation, Fred fumed,

“Is… is that Y/n and Diggory? That’s Y/n and fucking Diggory!”

George met his brother with a deadpan expression.

“Thanks, Fred, couldn’t tell. I mean, they have been friends since our second year.” He muttered. Although this was true, you only recently started talking again. Cedric was popular among students at Hogwarts so as the years trialed on, it became harder and harder to keep a close bond with him. You never had a nasty falling out- you still waved and smiled at each other during class and in the halls, you just stopped spending your free time together as often. Cedric was constantly with his little group of friends and you were rarely disconnected from Fred and George’s hips.

But when he saw you wandering the halls, tear strokes staining your cheeks, he rekindled the friendship with his natural kindness. Wordlessly, Cedric halted his journey to the Great Hall and kneeled down in front of you, asking you what was the matter. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the heightened emotions, you spilled your emotions and confessed everything to him. His presence felt nostalgic and comfortable, it felt like the old days. After crying to him for sometime, Cedric offered to keep you company for the day.

He showed you around the greenhouse, pointing out which ones he planted and all his favorites. You then took him to the Great Lake where you walked around for an hour and shared what you had missed from each other’s lives. It was exactly what you needed to feel a little better for a while. You guys ended your trip down memory lane, and survey of the grounds, in the Great Hall, Cedric’s original destination. He invited you to sit with him and, not wanting to sit alone, you kindly tagged along. Since then, the two of you hadn’t left your spot at the Hufflepuff table. When Cedric saw your friends walking in, he decided to do you a favor and scoot a little closer, purposely making Fred twitch from the opposite side of the room.

Scoffing heavily, Fred lifted his eyebrow and motioned to Cedric and yourself.

“When the bloody hell have they ever sat together- I mean look at how fucking close they are! He’s basically on top of her… I should go see if she’s okay-” Pushing himself up from the table, a quick hand grasped at his side, snagging him back down with a thump. “No, Fred. Just let her be, she had a rough night.” The snarky cut sounded from Hermione. The curly haired girl gave a sneer to Fred, irritated soaking through her words.

“What happened? I never even saw her come in last night.”

“And why’s that?” Hermione asked, head cocked to the side, daring Fred to reply. But when he didn’t say anything, she huffed and continued, “She went to bed right after she got in- uh, I think she said something about an essay or exam. Can’t remember.”

An awkward silence took over, no one else wanting to speak up. George was scrapping around his lunch, taking small bites as he waited for someone to change the topic. Fred glared once more over to you then begrudgingly stated,

“Guess I’ll just have to ask her about it at practice tomorrow. She seems occupied.” The green-eyed monster had fully awakened in Fred. He contemplated strutting right over and yanking you away from Cedric. His blood boiled, envy tainting his circulation. A small part of Fred was beginning to believe you had feelings for him as well- well that was until now. Now, he knew you didn’t and it ripped his heart in two.

Sucking in his cheeks, Fred’s teeth toyed and bit at the skin. His knuckles remained clenched and his eyes cold.

A new group of students made their way into the Great hall, with them, Angelina Johnson.

“Hey Fred.” Angelina was smiling, a sickeningly sweet smile that made the skin under her eyes crinkle. Hermione noticed the unfamiliar tint of peach kissing her lips. She rolled her eyes, annoyance growing at Angelina putting in the extra effort to look nice for Fred. She never wore makeup, and Hermione had to resist the urge to throw her glass of water on the girl’s face. Although younger than you, Hermione was extremely protective of you as you were with her. She was your closest girlfriend and Hermione was not about to let Angelina stomp all over you.

Fred Weasley broke his gaze from you to turn to Angelina. A fake smirk hit his face as he greeted her.

“Angelina, hi.” Ron and Harry listened in, trying to act like they weren’t paying attention. They weren’t huge on drama like this- it was a lose lose for Ron to get involved seeing as Fred was his older brother. Harry preferred to remain in his own conflict- Merlin knows he had a laundry list of those.

The older Gryffindor girl had her hand in her hair, fingers twisting a strand absentmindedly. Instead of dressing down for the sluggish Sunday, Angelina had on a tight red and black plaid skirt, and a tight, slightly unbuttoned white long sleeve.

“I was wondering, you wanna go back to the common room with me? Thought we could hangout for a while.” Leaning to her hip, a seductive gleam twinkled in her eyes. Ron could feel the gag creeping up his throat. Everyone, even Fred, had to hold back from scoffing at the girl. Right as Fred went to decline her proposal, his eyes drew over to you. The resentment and fury hit his bloodstream again when he saw Cedric leaning in so close that his lips were almost brushing your cheeks. He narrowed in on you moving towards his touch, the laughter that cascaded from your lips at his whispers. Out of spite, Fred grinned up at Angelina and nodded his head.

“Sure,” Fred propped his hands on either side of the table, lifting himself up, “I’ll see you guys later.” He commented before taking off with Angelina out of the Great Hall. George pushed the food around on his plate, trying to think of a way to make things right. He hated having his two best friends in a standoff, one that his dim twin seemed to not even understand. Looking up, George saw your eyes watching Fred and Angelina leaving the hall, hand-in-hand.

Cedric reached out for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze in an attempt to distract you. His hands were warm in your cold grip and the comfort was slim. If it were Fred’s hands in your own, maybe it would feel different. Resting your head on the wooden table, Cedric could barely make out your sorrowful mumble.

“See, I told you. He’s not interested.”

The kind Hufflepuff shook his head, the sandy brown locks in his hair swinging as he did. To him, it was obvious. Maybe it was a guy thing, but Cedric could feel the heat fuming off Fred from the other side of his room. It was obvious to him that seeing you and Cedric so close together, got under his skin.

Setting his fork down, Cedric wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side.

“Y/n, darling, that is the exact opposite as not interested- he’s only leaving with her because he got jealous that you’re with me! You can’t tell me all that glaring and pouting and red face was because he’s ‘not interested’ in you.” You sat stunned at his words, not having a comeback ready at all. He made a valid point- one that infected your thoughts. Was Fred actually upset that you were with Cedric? No, you declared, he had Angelina, why would he care about who you were with. An answer for Cedric still hadn’t come so you shrugged to him, and started digging into the food on your plate.

A hearty, childlike, chuckle eliminated from Cedric as he gave you one last side hug,

“See, I told you.” He mocked teasingly. You glared at him playfully then glanced over at the Gryffindor table. George Weasley had already turned towards you, silently pleading for you to come over. You mentioned to the east entrance of the dinning hall, signaling for him to meet you there. Excusing yourself politely from Cedric, you promised to return later in the evening, telling him you needed to take care of some business. He of course sweetly obliged, waving to you as you left his table, then joined up with his friends.

George jogged off after you, quickly meeting you outside of the hall. Before you could say hello, he was already diving in.

“You’re mad, woman. Absolutely mad! Do you see how angry Fred was? Cause I was sitting at him and he was incensed! I swear- he was about to leap over there and fight Cedric!” George’s hollar rang to the tippy top of the Astronomy tower. Passerbys leered nosily, wanting a taste of the gossip. Shoving George lightly, you started walking towards the Gryffindor side of the castle with him on your tail.

“Doesn’t matter- he’s with Angelina.” You stated. As much as you wanted the conversation to vanish, George wasn’t about to let you go that easy. Following by your side, an ear shattering laugh came from George.

“Y/n, he only went to hangout with her because he was livid about you and Cedric!”

The traffic in the hall was overwhelming. For a Sunday, there sure were a lot of students roaming the halls. The younger students basically ogled over the two of you as you passed by. First and second year Gryffindors always thought of the Weasley twins and gods for their notorious pranks, and by association, you as well. A group of first year Gryffindor students were crowded around the Cobblestone Courtyard, trying to sneak points and stares at you two. George and you waved over to the boys, their eyes widening at your gestures, but returning a shaky wave back nonetheless. You both continued walking, trying to keep the conversation as light as possible. “Whatever, George.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you sent him a pointed look, stopping dead in your tracks. Turning to a softer tone you asked, “Would you do me a small favor?”

His eyes squinting, George flattened his lips into a thin line.

“What kind of a favor?”

“Just come to McGonagall’s office with me and I’ll explain on the way.” You insisted. Having nothing better to do and wanting to probe your brain for a bit longer, George agreed. However when you made it to the tower of the teacher's offices, he started to regret coming along. The two of you climbed your way up to the fourth floor, and George’s mouth went dry to the bone when you started knocking on the door of Professor McGonagall. Dots started to connect and before George had the chance to stop you, McGonagall’s door creaked open and the beloved Professor

“Miss. Y/l/n, Mr. Weasley, what can I do for the two of you? You didn’t explode a laboratory again, did you?” The tiredness in her voice was noticeably as she prepared herself to deal with the consequences of your reckless pranks. Instead, you reassured her by shaking your head.

“No, Professor, not this time. I was wondering if I could speak to you about leaving the Quidditch team?”

“What?” Both McGonagall and George asked in unison. The seriousness in your gaze answered their questions. McGonagall gave you a bewildered look, not expecting your request in the slightest. George couldn’t move. His feet were cemented to the floor- not giving a single budge. Ever since you were age qualified for tryouts, Fred, George, and you had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Your third year you were all starters and it hasn't changed since. Everyone could agree, even your opponents, that you were the top chaser in the school, next to a seventh year Ravenclaw boy. You were faster than most, strategic, quick on your feet, and were an excellent flyer.

George went to pull for your hand, destined to make you rethink. But you moved your hand away before your skin touched. He couldn’t think of the words to yell at you to stop, for once in his life. McGonagall flicked her eyes between you two, then stepped to the side, opening her office door.

“Come in, dear- both of you, come in.”

On Monday evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was pooled together on the pitch making conversation before practice started. Angelina Johnson stood a few feet from, giggling and whispering with Alicia and Katie. The girls would glance over to the twins every few seconds, then giggle turning back to each other. As time passed on, Fred found it quite annoying. He wasn’t dating Angelina although he wondered if that was clear to her. For the last week and a half, the pair had been sneaking around the castle, snogging in dark corridors, flirting during practice, getting handsy during class and sitting awfully close to one another in the common room. To Fred, he was just having fun and if he was being honest, it was getting a bit boring but he felt that Angelina deserved a chance.

When he found the heartfelt letter on his bed, he felt he owed it to Angelina to at least give it a try. The way she poured her heart to him on paper- it made him feel special, cared about. Fred couldn’t say with one hundred present confidence that the writer was Angelina, but Lee Jordan was certain it was her.

Although he had been devoting most of his time to hanging out with Angelina and trying to sort out if he had any feelings, Fred noticed a change in you. After that night in the common room, seeing you became a rare occurrence. No longer did Fred walk you to and from class, Cedric did now, and sometimes George. Fred almost had a heart attack the first time he spotted you walking through the corridors with Cedric Diggory close to your hip. That was four days ago and since then, the two of you still hadn’t really spoken.

Fred kicked at the grass and sand surrounding his feet. He didn’t have the motivation nor the energy to flirt with Angelina when his mind was stuck on you. He hated the jealousy that took over when he saw you with Cedric, but he couldn’t shake the image. The sound of his younger brother shouting brought Fred back to reality. George had been standing by his side, but he had been far too quite as well. It made Fred feel like he was going crazy- like he was left out on whatever had been consuming George and yourself. He was distressed over the situation, but Ron’s screeching was too distracting to come up with any solutions. Fred peeked over to his brother as Ron demanded,

“Where’s Y/n? She’s our top Chaser- where the bloody hell is she?” Ron was frantically scanning the pitch for you. Walking up from behind the group, Oliver Wood announced his arrival with an annoyed, and irritated voice.

“McGonagall let me know this morning that y/l/n will not be joining us for the rest of the year. Guess she was falling behind in classes and McGonagall and she felt it was best to quit the team… I don’t agree, but I can’t do anything.” He clutched his broom in his left hand, nearly snapping the wood in half. Everyone crowded around could feel the anger radiating off Oliver. His lips were pressed in a stern line, and his body was stiff as a board. The rest of the team shifted under his heated glare. Oliver had a way of killing with his eyes and the baffled Gryffindor players could sense it was going to be one long practice.

Giving the team one last overlook, Oliver pivoted on his back foot and stomped off. The rest of the group exchanged quizential gleams, separate groups of chatter running amuck.

Fred could hear Alicia and Angelina talking about you. You were the third party to their line of Chasers- they had no idea what to do without you on the team anymore.

“What? She never told me that.” Angelina Johnson crossed her arms in thought, puzzled by the entire announcement. If you were behind in classes, why hadn’t you told her? Leaning her weight on her hip, Angelina looked over the twins. She knew the three of you were best friends, so she assumed they’d have answers. Fred was already looking over to her, only for some sort of answers as to why you quit. Burrowing her eyebrows, she sent him a question leer. She was just as left in the dark as he. Suddenly, a light bulb flicked in a flare. Fred turned to his twin, who was far too quiet, meaning he already knew.

“Y/n tell you she was quitting?” It was more a demand than a question, but Fred still wanted to hear George admit it. Awkwardly, George scratched at the skin of his neck. It was such an uncomfortable situation for him to be stuck in the middle of, but he loved both of you and it hurt him to see you hurt. George shrugged, switching his broom between his hands.

“Yeah, I went with her to go talk to McGonagall, I told her not to but y’know how stubborn she is. Had her mind set.” He confessed. George kept checking for their captain, for the first time he was eager for practice to begin. He didn’t care if Oliver was going to take his frustrations of you leaving the team out on them- he just wanted the conversation between himself and Fred to be over. Flying 100 laps around the pitch in one cycle was much more appealing than standing there any longer. Although his twin wasn’t about to let him slide that easy. Taking a step forward Fred seethed,

“Wait, she asked you to come with her? She didn’t even tell me anything about leaving the team. Also didn’t say anything about Diggory...” His tone was a mix of shock and jealousy. The envy dripping from his words was harsh. The white bones of his knuckles peaked out from beneath his skin as his fists clenched at his sides. This caught George’s attention but not in a positive light.

It made him tick in an unfamiliar way. To George, even though Fred was his twin, he didn’t have the right to be upset with him for being your shoulder. Yes, Fred didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he knew something was up. He had to have some sort of inkling and it irritated George that Fred was mad at him.

Scoffing deeply, George threw it right back at him,

“Not like you’ve even been around that much lately. Seems like you’ve been a bit,” His eyes shot over to one particular Chaser, then again to his twin. “Busy. Didn’t tell her about that one either, I assume.” Cold were his words and his face twisted in a scowl. Eyes wide as the moon, Fred gestured to the girl standing next to her friends.

“Angelina?” He asked in surprise. As dumbfounded as his brother seemed, George’s annoyance only extended at an alarming rate. Oliver rented the pitch and was trudging over to the group. Shaking his orange locks George scrunched his nose.

“I mean, did you tell Y/n about whatever the hell this is going on between Angelina and you. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t tell you shit when you don’t tell her either.” He spat jarringly. The tension was boiling between the two of them and Fred was lost as to why. Stepping away, he lifted his hands in defense. “Woah, where did the attitude come from? I don’t even know what I did, George. It’s not like Y/n will even glance in my direction lately. Help me out.”

Fred was completely disconcerted, pleading to his brother with his eyes to give him some guidance. It was unlike George to keep things from his twin, and Fred needed to get to the bottom of it. Why would you confide in George? To Fred, the two of you were always a bit closer than George and yourself. There were different boundaries, different normalities between you and each twin. A weird conjunction of irk and bitterness brewed inside him. “For some reason, I don’t believe that. You know, Fred, Angelina didn’t write that letter.” His words struck Fred like a bus. Nearly giving himself whiplash, Fred snapped his sharp eyes to George as his mouth parted open. George’s focus remained on their captain who was nearing. The matter-of-fact tone to his voice had Fred even more confused. Grabbing his brother by the shoulder to force his attention, Fred gasped.

“What-” An abrupt hollar from the Gryffindor captain rang out causing the team to quiet down and look over to Oliver. With a gruff expression, Wood wasted no time diving into instructions.

“Okay everyone, gather ‘round. First piece of business, Katie, you’ll be taking over for Y/n, second piece of business…”

Fred drowned out the sound of Oliver moaning on as his mind raced to the letter. His brain repeated the sweet words over and over again. There was an extremely slim pool of people who could know all those things about him, and some of it, Fred was almost positive Angelina didn’t know. Yes, he met her his first year, but Angelina didn’t know Fred was afraid of the dark. She had no idea he hated socks. That was something he shared with you over winter break when the harsh winter forced him to wear the constricting material on his feet. Didn’t know about the scar on his knee he got last summer when Fred, George and yourself went exploring in the woods and he fell into a hunting trap. You knew all these things- but if you were the true author, Fred was almost certain you would’ve said something by now… right? That’s what made the whole situation so frustrating to him. He thought about asking Angelina, getting a straight forward response but if she did say no, what was he supposed to do. If Angelina didn’t write the letter, then who did? Did the prank king himself fall for a prank? Fred’s judgement remained clouded for the rest of the practice, despite how hard Oliver pushed them. He needed to find you and at least figure out why you had been avoiding him.

While your former teammates were hard at work on the pitch, you were sat in the courtyard with Cedric. The two of you were propped up on the brick wall, sitting half inside the corridor and half outside. Students walked past as dinner was nearing, mummering about the two of you while walking by. Those who were unaware of your history gossiped about a possible relationship. A relationship was the last thing either of you wanted for each other.

Cedric was busy telling you a story about a holiday him and his father took to Greece the year before, a country you had been dying to visit. You were invested in his story about traveling to see authentic Greek God statues when the figure of a familiar boy came into view from the corner of your eye. Behind Cedric was Fred Weasley running up to every student in his perimeter, saying something to them, then running off to the next one. He reached a Slytherin girl, asked her something, then much to your surprise, she turned around and pointed at you. Fred followed her finger until his eyes found yours. Rushing over, Fred thought you were alone until he was a foot away and the shoulder of Cedric could be seen poking out behind the pillar.

Fred stopped next to Cedric, trying his best to appear intimidating, which would’ve caused you to giggle recklessly if the situation were different.

“Y/n… Cedric. Fancy running into the two of you.”

“Hey Fred.” The confidence in Cedric’s voice almost made you laugh. He was toying with Fred because he knew he could. You didn’t have an attraction towards Cedric, and he saw you as a great friend. Fred didn’t need to know this all yet.

Now that Fred was face-to-face with Cedric, you could see that your friend was correct about noticing the jealousy. Fred snarled at the Hufflepuff, a scowl painting his face. Once he looked over to you, his features softened. Biting your lip you echoed,

“Hi.” Fred was pleased with your response, even if it was minimal, at least you were willing to acknowledge him now. That was a step.

Reaching for your hand, Fred laced his rough fingers around your own. It was a familiar feeling you had been missing for over a week. Having his attention on you was something you missed- just having him around was something you missed.

Cedric coughed awkwardly, awaiting Fred’s move. The Gryffindor glared over again then took a deep breath, resisting the ticking urge to shove the boy away from your vicinity.

“Y/n, uh, can we talk?” He paused for a moment, “Without dear Cedric around.”

“Sure. I’ll see you around, Ced.” You leaned up to hug your friend, then watched as he walked away, smirking to himself.

“Ced?” Fred muttered under his breath, earning a small frown from you. “Sorry…”

Scratching at his arm, Fred tried to figure out where to begin. There were so many questions- so many. It was impossible to declare the perfect place to start. Realizing he wasn’t going to speak first, you broke the ice.

“You just want to talk here?” The corridor was empty, expect a Ravenclaw couple stealing a nap before curfew. A pair of students would walk by every so often, but they never strayed from their path.

“Uh, I suppose. I mean you haven’t really been talking to me at all for a week, so I’ll have a conversation wherever I can get one.” Fred chuckled uncomfortably, the lack of humor on your face building tension. You were staring out at the bare courtyard, viewing the scenery of flowers and greenery. Tall trees whooshed in the wind, leaves tumbling to the green grass gracefully. Branches swung against each other, the noise helping to create a distraction.

Slipping his thumb under your chin, Fred lifted your head locking his eyes on yours. You finally peered back at him, and the look in his eyes almost made your heart crumble. A slight glossy, sadness glazed his typically wild, gleaming, happy orbs. His hand tightened on your face, although not enough to hurt.

“Y/n why won’t you even look at me, love? You’re obsessed with Quidditch almost as much as Oliver and you just upped and quit. Don’t even try the excuse of ‘falling behind in school’, we both know that’s a bold lie. You’re the brightest witch in the castle. Look at me please, love.” He pleaded. A sudden rush of irritation surged through you, irked at his words. Pushing him back, you tried to rid yourself of the boy. Stubborn as he was, Fred didn’t move a muscle.

“Stop. Stop it. You can’t say that.” Sternly you scolded him. Fred ran his free hand across his face, his frustration getting the best of him.

“I can’t say what, darling?”

Finding the strength to push him away, you glowered intensely, “You can’t call me love, and you certainly can’t call me darling. You have Angelina for that.” The last part was thrown in more to jab at Fred, wanting to make him feel even an ounce of the pain you were experiencing. It was exactly the most adult choice, but who could blame you. It’s like they say; hurt people, hurt people.

Despite the coldness of your presence, Fred wasn’t backing off. Tugging at your wrist, he pulled your attention in again. His hands were gentle yet his features were sharp.

“So, what? Can only Cedric call you that? Cause just a week ago you were fine with it- loving it actually. This has nothing to do with Angelina-” The vein in his forehead was popping out from all the emotions Fred was draining at once. The last time you saw that sort of a reaction was when Fred nearly murdered his brother Percy for delivering him personally to Snape for exploring the castle after hours. It was quite an interesting Christmas break after that stunt. Fred attempted manslaughter roughly five times during that month off.

You heard his words but all you could see was red. You couldn’t stand to hear him say her name, it made the hairs on the back of your neck rise at the thought of Fred with Angelina. A week’s worth of heartbreak, anger, and hurt exploded without warning as you leaned close to Fred and shouted feverishly,

“This has everything to do with Angelina, Fred!” The anger boiled into a scream as you shoved your finger into his chest, poking him harshly, “You were supposed to be my best friend- her too- and you never told me. You led me on, you made me think you actually had feelings for me, that I had a chance, then you went and got with my roommate, and didn’t say a word to me! You just want me to pretend everything is fine and dandy but it isn’t! You hurt me- her too, but you more than anyone. I’ve been friends with both of you since first year- I’ve been in love with you since first year- and you never even said a thing, you coward! I fucking left clues in neon signs in that letter and you still ignored them. You could’ve just told me, Fred. I can’t even look at either of you the same now. Why didn’t you tell me?” The tears were pouring like a broken faucet at this point. Salt kissed the corner of your mouth then splashed onto the stone floor. Your head fell, allowing the cries to smack right to the ground. A black shoe came into view as it stepped towards you. Refusing to look up, you silently begged for Fred to do something- anything. Soon enough, his large hand clasped around your shoulder, yanking you tightly into his chest. His arms encapsulated you into a hold, hugging you like he never had before. Instead of fighting him off, you felt your body sinking into his arms as the sobs continued. Fred’s hand reached to your head, petting at your hair in a soothing manner.

Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, Fred lingered his lips against your skin. This was something he had down a million times but with the circumstances, it felt different this time, more genuine.

“You wrote those letters?” Fred uttered faintly. All the stars were aligning in his mind as the confession coated the air. He wanted to kick himself endlessly for putting a blindside up to all the flags. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you, his best friend, would share the love he felt for you. He started to think back on all your little antics in a different light. How you’d hug him first after every Quidditch match- win or lose. How you’d hold only his hand when you walked to class and never George’s. How you’d braid his hair in the common room on the weekends and spend all night spilling your secrets to him. How whenever there was a party, you stayed close to his side clutching his hand, not that Fred ever let you wander far. It caused his heart to skip a beat as he fixed all the pieces together into a neat puzzle.

“Of course I fucking wrote the letters, Fred! Who else could’ve known all that, hm? I’m sure you ruled George out right away so that only leaves one of us. You didn’t want it to be me- you wanted it to be her.” Your voice cracked at the admission, turning away from Fred while the tears took control. You wanted to run off so bad, to go cry in a corner and never face anyone again. Wiping your eyes, Fred snatched your mascara smudged hand and frantically exclaimed,

“No, that’s not true! I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad Y/n, but it was just too good to be true. When I found them on my bed, Lee said Angelina was standing outside our room right before he came up so I… I guess it was just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to risk it, I was just scared if it really was you.” Your eyes rolled in disbelief, was he really driving the dagger in even more? Was it really necessary? The message was received loud and clear as you sneered up at him.

“I get it, Fred, okay? I fucking get it so you don’t have to spell it out for me. You’re with Angelina and I’m just your friend-” For the first time in the long years of your friendship, Fred Weasley snapped at you. Never had you heard his scary, angry voice directed at you, but this time, you were the only one around to be on the receiving end.

“Will you just shut up! I’m not with Angelina- I had a thing with her but I could never be with her, Y/n. She’s just… just-ugh! She’s just not you and it’s infuriating. And if I see you in Diggory’s arms one more time, I think I’m gonna explode.” He finished, out of breath and huffing. His hand around yours had gripped harder, your fingers nearly numb. This was the least of your concerns. All you could comprehend was the rapid words of the boy in front of you.

A triumphant sensation hit your stomach. It made you a little happy to know Fred was envious of Cedric. He had no reason to be, but it still made you smirk a tiny bit. Shrugging half heartedly you mumbled,

“Now you know how I feel…”

Fred’s head shot up at this. Confusion written all over his face he questioned,

“Wait, you’re not with Cedric?”

“No, Fred! He’s my friend- unlike you and Angelina, I don’t snog Cedric.” Dragging your words out, you sent a knowing flare at Fred. He didn’t deny it though, which was what you wanted. If anything was going to happen between the two of you, you needed to be entirely honest and Fred was ready for that. Lifting your hand to his face, you opened your grasp fully, allowing it to rest against the warmth of his cheek.

“It was only once, darling. Just to see if something was there and… well, don’t tell Angelina, but it was bloody terrible. I was expecting it to be like that time we uh, ‘accidently’ kissed last year. Don’t know if you remember it but I certainly do. But um, yeah it was nothing like that. I remember when I kissed you, it felt like that feeling of comfort that I get whenever I step inside The Burrow. And with Angelina, it was more so empty. With you, I had fucking butterflies for weeks! After I kissed Angelina- I vowed I wouldn’t do it again. I never want to kiss any girl who isn’t you, I mean that, Y/n. I’ve had a crush on you since George and I sat next to you on the train to Hogwarts. I’ve been in love with you since we got off that train our first year, and I haven’t stopped since.”

“I remember everything about that day, you were my first kiss after all.” A smile graced your lips at the memory. You had joined the Weasley’s for the last month of summer break, only months ago. Fred, George, and yourself were up late one night in their room gossiping about the new drama you had missed while apart. You laid on your stomach on Fred’s bed, and George on his. Fred sat cross legged beside you, his arm lying on your back. After a few hours, Ginny knocked to inform you she was heading to bed. Taking a risky gamble, Fred begged Molly to let you sleep in their room on a makeshift cot. It took him a little over three weeks to get a yes from her- but with the limitation that the door stay open no matter the hour.

Ginny would stop in every night to wish you a good sleep. Although small in retrospect, this was a big reason Fred fell even more in love with you, the way his little sister looked up at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to ever lay foot on this earth- not that Fred would deny this. He agreed fully, but it made him happier than ever to know that his family loved you and consider you an honorary Weasley. He hoped one day he’d be able to make you an official Weasley, but that would come further down the road.

George crashed around three and Fred and yourself decided to lay in his bed for a few more hours before hitting the hay. You knew you’d have to sneak back to your cot before sunrise or Molly would execute Fred- not you of course, just Fred. She never found you guilty for any of their disastrous plans.

After an hour or so, you were laying next to Fred, staring up at the ceiling as he explained to you all the reasons on how he was superior to George in Quidditch, a conversation that he would only win when George was passed out. For some reason, this led to Fred rambling on about the first time he saw you flying, how he knew you would be an exquisite flyer. Maybe it was because of the kind compliments and the admiration it created inside of you but you placed a soft kiss to the corner of Fred’s lip mid sentence as he gushed about your Quidditch skills.

As you pulled away, Fred pulled you forward again, this time initiating the kiss himself and smacking his lips entirely on yours. Although it was your first kiss, you caught on quick. Fred moved to hover over you which caused your kiss to break and reality to set in. You both went as white as a ghost, frozen in place. Fred just stayed on top of you, unsure of what to do next. His heart urged him to kiss you again but the look of shock on your face made him doubt this idea. After an awkward minute of this, you slowly slid out from under him and sprinted to the makeshift bed, hiding under the covers until morning. It was embarrassing to say the least but neither of you mentioned it since. You went back to normal the next day, pretending the kiss was a figment of your imaginations. But it was as real as your feelings and it happened. You pondered now if you had kissed him again back on that night, maybe you would’ve been together sooner.

Pulling you back into the moment, Fred peeled your hand from his face and scattered a line of kisses to your knuckles,

“If you’d let me, I’d like to be your last.”

“What exactly are you asking me, Freddie?” You smiled, a sugary confection grin, like the world was finally turning in your favor. A gleeful grin took over Fred at the nickname your gifted him. Leaving a chaste peck to the back of your hand, Fred leaned into your touch. “I’ve missed that so much, love. You’re the only one besides mum and George that can call me Freddie. But,” Eyes meeting your, you could feel your heart melting under his gaze. “I want to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend?” If you weren’t standing so close, his whispered words would’ve gone unheard. Luckily for the both of you, they fully registered in your head and heart. Pinching at the skin of your arm, you reassured yourself this was in fact real and not a dream. Fred really was standing in front of you confessing everything you had been dying to hear since your first year. You figured you must have been staring for far too long as a look of fear flashed across Fred’s face.

“Freddie, of course I’ll be your girlfriend!”

“Merlin’s beard- you had me scared, darling.” He hugged you close to his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart pounding against your ears. You could hear the nerves in his voice causing you to giggle against him.

“Did you really think I was going to say no?”

“I mean I have been a down right git these last few days so, can you blame me for being worried?” He pulled away to glance down at you with a funny expression. Scrunching your nose as if deep in thought, you shook your head.

“Nope.”

Skimming his thumb across your cheek again, Fred took a different approach this time. His body leaned in slowly to yours, stopping just before connecting to brush his lips against yours. The tips of your noses touched, making you laugh at the tickle. He took his time admiring every detail of your face so up close and personal. His eyes surveyed the miniscule dark spots kissing your s/c skin, the paint strokes of e/c in your eyes, the indented dimples in your cheeks and all the beautiful little details that crafted you.

Drawing in, Fred closed the inch of a gap by pressing his pursed lips against your own. Your knees gave out almost immediately at the intense passion and spark soaring through you. As if expecting you to stumble, Fred’s free arm was wrapped securely around your waist, supporting your body to a stand. Snaking your hands around his face, you mimicked his movements by enticing him in with your lips and kissing him deeply. You moved your hand down to his tie, gripping the satin material in your hand then whipped it towards yourself. Fred crashed further into your lips, a groan of pleasure emmitnating. His hand trailed from your waist to your hair, returning the action by tugging at your hair.

You gasped at the sensation, giving Fred the perfect window of opportunity to take the lead. The warmth, and wetness of his tongue slipped around your lip, then entered your mouth. You fought with him wanting to dominate the kiss but Fred was far too skilled.

His tongue danced with yours before flicking across your lips in a teasing manner. You giggled into his lips, a smile rising to Fred’s lips. Detaching himself from your embrace, Fred pulled back, then kissed your cheek. His hands found their previous position around your face. As he held your face in his hands, he leaned down to rest your foreheads against one another. Like a child whose mother just purchased him a puppy, Fred abruptly gushed,

“I can finally call you mine now, isn’t that wicked! Like… you’re my girlfriend now! Bloody hell, this is amazing. I should’ve asked you out years ago!” He chuckled giddly, squeezing your cheeks lightly in his hands. You pulled away, smacking his hands playfully.

“Tell me about it. Would’ve made this a whole lot easier.”

“Ah c’mon, love. Nothing worth it ever comes easy, right?” Fred smiled down at you, intertwining his large hand in yours. You peeked at the interlock, a grin rising to your face. Despite the annoyance of how long it took him, you couldn’t be happier now that he was truly yours. He was right, the wait was finally worth it. For once, your life was aligning with the script of a Hollywood film and it had never felt better.

Gripping Fred’s hand loving you tilted your head up at him,

“Is that your excuse for taking, what… six years?” His cheeks went red at this and he attempted to cover his face in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, darling! Oh wait- am I allowed to call you that, or is it still reserved for Diggory?” Wiggling his eyebrows at you Fred broke into a fit of chuckles. You hit his side, causing him to step back, though the laughter roared louder. Narrowing your eyes, you feigned anger as you spun on your heel and started to walk in the opposite direction, away from Fred.

“Shut up, Freddie! You want me to break-up with you already?” Fred knew you were joking, but he was a sucker for games. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you- his long strides were no match to your average ones. Wrapping his arms around your body from the back, Fred pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, blowing a rush of air in causing you to leap in surprise.

“Oh, stop it, love! Don’t start with that, let’s at least make it a full day before any talks of breaking up.” Fred placed a ‘boop’ to your nose, then rejoined you at your side as you walked together to the dorm room. The other students had emptied from the halls. Passing by the large clock, you realized you were minutes from curfew. Pointing at the time, you motioned over to Fred. He swiveled his head to read the clock, a wild smirk marking his face. Speeding up the pace, the two of you were jogging to the common room, neither of you wanting to end up in detention. Just as you reached the fourth floor, a silvery and translucent figure swept across the opening of the corridor. You yelp in freight at the unexpected jump scare of a Hogwarts ghost. The Bloody Baron snapped his head at you with a nasty scowl. A silver, heavy chain hung around his neck, a punishment for his crime of murder. Although ghosts of Hogwarts weren’t ghoulish or frightening, The Bloody Baron had never been your favorite. Despite deceased, the throw of his glare felt real and caused your skin to crawl in fear.

Fred interjected, greeting The Bloody Baron kindly and apologizing for your reaction. The ghosts at Hogwarts were rather sensitive to their state. Besides, he always had a softer side for the twins. The Bloody Baron and Peeves were connected in a way so the Weasley twins always got a pass.

The ghost gravitated to the side of the entrance, allowing an opening for you to pass. You thanked him, apologizing for your previous reaction as you stepped past. As you made it out of his earshot, a stream of laughter poured from Fred. Tears pricked his eyes as he chuckled endlessly. You glared at him, warning him with just one look to keep quiet. Fred threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. He leaned down to place a lingering kiss to your lips before chuckling again,

“C’mon, darling. I’ll protect you from all the ghosts.”

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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago

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hi love, it's me again! i just can't get enough of your writing... i'm sorry to be asking for another fic, i guess i just can't help myself. lately i've been obsessed with the fake dating thing, so i was wondering if you could write a fred x reader (basically same reader as my last request, gryffindor, same year as ron) with that? like, maybe george knows they fancy each other and makes a bet with him so they start fake datig but realise they're in love with each other? aaa thank you so much, ly

bets off // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i used the same pronouns from the last request, hope you don’t mind!! i apreciate u sm ur always so active w my fics ily <3333 this is the first thing i’ve written in a while that i’m actually proud of so i hope u guys like it :D

summary: Fred makes a bet with George that entails fake dating you for at least a month. He never expected to fall in love with you.

(5k)

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Competition was healthy. At least, that’s what Fred told himself as he looked at George’s outstretched hand, a cocky smile etching the boy’s lips.

“Two weeks?” Fred asked, looking suspiciously at George.

“Two. Weeks.” George answered definitively, smirking at his brother.

Fred considered this in his head. Two weeks to get you, someone who had never previously shown any romantic interest in him, to date him for at least a month. He doubted it would be hard, for he had never had any trouble getting girls to swoon for him in the past. A few winks and charming sentiments and you would be putty in his hand. With this air of confidence, he shook George’s hand.

“You idiot!” Lee, who had previously been silently watching the exchange, called from across the table, a baffled smile on his face.

George laughed, leaning back in his chair and looking at Fred like he agreed with Lee.

“What?” Fred asked, the overly confident look still littering his features.

“You can’t win with this one,” Lee explained, shaking his head, “you either piss off Ron when this goes right, you piss of Ron when this goes wrong, you come out the git for breaking a girls heart, or you come out the embarrassed git who was rejected by your kid brother’s best friend.”

“Hey,” Fred said, faking offence, “I never agreed to ask out Harry.”

George and Lee rolled their eyes, hiding smiles as they continued their homework.

Fred was not deterred by Lee’s warnings, for he had a plan to avoid all of that. He was simply going to tell you the truth.

He found you on your way to the green house, pulling you away from a Slytherin girl you were walking with.

“He just stared at her? Like he didn’t eve-” you felt an unexpected tugging, “Ah!”

You squealed, feeling your feet stumble under you for a moment as you gathered your wits again. You looked down at the hand pulling you, following it up to the face. It was Fred, which was odd, because you two were not known for pulling at each other in hallways.

“You’re going to miss Herbology!” your friend called out to you, a worried expression on her face.

“I’ll meet you there, save me a seat!” you called back to her, turning away and following Fred as he still dragged you.

“Fred? What are you doing?” you asked him, making no effort to move from his strong grip.

“Got to talk to you,” he said airily, barely looking back at you as he pulled you down an empty corridor.

He let go of your arm, smiling down at you as you waited for him to speak. He didn’t take the hint, just looking at you.

“What did you want?” you glanced at your watch, seeing you only had a few minutes before Professor Sprout would start class.

“I have a proposition for you,” Fred drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as per usual, “what do ya say?”

You squinted your eyes at him, frowning, “I have to hear the proposition first.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, thats how propositions work.”

“I hadn’t realized,” he replied sarcastically, dropping his cool demeanor and letting some desperation seep into his voice.

“What do you want?” you repeated, slightly more annoyed.

“I may have made a bet that heavily relies on your willingness to do me a huge favor,” he said, a hopeful smile coming to his face.

“Oh god, Fred, what did you do?”

“George may have implied that I was in a dry spell when it came to girls,” he said, smirking, “and obviously that’s just not true. So, he suggested a bet to see if I still had my skills-”

“Your skills?”

“-yes my skills, would you listen?”

Fred leaned closer to you, his eyebrows raising as you rolled your eyes.

“Back to what I was saying,” he drew in a breath, dragging out this entire conversation, “George suggested a bet to see if I could still charm the ladies,” he wiggled his eyebrows and you quirked one of yours.

“Long story short-”

You interrupted again, “That was the short version of that story? Fred can’t we do this later, I’ve got class in,” you glanced at your watch. “two minutes.”

“No! Give me a second,” he ran a hand through his hair, putting his strong hands on your shoulders to keep you in place, “I made a bet with George that I could get you to fall in love with me in two weeks and date you for a month!”

You looked up at the boy, thinking he had gone off the end. He had to, either that or he was messing with you. Or maybe he had been slipped a potion of some sort.

“Fred,” you started, your kind tone giving Fred the impression you would agree to the plan, “you just waisted the very limited break I have between classes, successfully pulling me away from a very entertaining story about Snape, and probably making me late for Herbology.”

Fred groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“I’m serious!”

You pulled against Fred’s grip, but he kept you in place. His face lit up, obviously coming up with what he thought would be a great plan. He released you briefly, digging his hands in his bag and moving crumpled papers around. He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, brandishing it like it was a diamond.

“This, my love, is going to get you out of Herbology this class period,” he said, unfolding the paper.

He revealed a blank piece of paper with tiny sparkles floating on the page. As he held it for a second longer, words began to form on the paper, writing something.

‘Professor Sprout,

Please excuse Y/n from Herbology this period, she came to me with a pain in her stomach and I gave her a potion to fix it. She stayed in the infirmary during the period.

-Poppy’

You had heard about these before, enchanted notes that were written in authentic handwriting and enchanted the reader to believe it, no matter what they said. Perfect for forging notes from teachers.

You stared at the paper in awe, grabbing it from Fred’s loose grasp.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. That’s the last one I have,” he said, feeling a bit remorseful having to give it up. He had been planning to use it to get out of Ancient Runes tomorrow.

You folded the paper again, putting it neatly in your bag and looking back at Fred.

“Alright, let’s go,” you sighed, allowing him to lead you to the great hall, through the courtyard, and out to the Quidditch Pitch where no teachers would be.

You sat in the stands, overlooking the empty and wet field,

“You want me to date you for two weeks?” you asked, sounding reluctant.

“No,” Fred said, sounding annoyed, “I want to fake date you for a month, but we won’t start until two weeks from now.”

You squinted, looking out at the stands on the other side of the field. You were thinking about this, finding the cons to outweigh the pros.

“What’s in it for me?” you paused, hearing Fred’s groan from beside you, “I mean, this could ruin my friendship with Ron, I get the embarrassing reputation when you fake dump me in a month, I don’t see how this is benefiting me.”

“Ron won’t care, I promise you,” Fred said acting as if this was obvious, “he lets Harry ogle Ginny all the time. And as for our fake dumping, that can be totally on your terms. I just need to win the bet with George.”

“What do you get if you win?”

Fred had hoped you weren’t going to ask that, but he was realizing you were smarter than he thought.

“Three Galleons,” he lied, looking at your skeptical face in the corner of his eye, “fine, six Galleons.”

You looked expectantly at him, waiting for his offer.

“I’ll split it with you,” he finally gave in.

He was a little upset at having to share his future winnings, but once you agreed to the bet and squealed excitedly at the possibility of some Galleons, a smile spread on his face.

Fred began laying the groundwork the next day. He made sure to send you flirtatious smiles when George was looking, waving to you in the halls, and talking to you in the common room.

You, Hermione, and Ron sat at a table in the corner, the three of you poured over a chess match. Ron was successfully beating Hermione, watching her as she tried to remember the rules he had taught her over and over.

“You can’t do that,” he said impatiently as Hermione tried to move a pawn backwards. His hand reached out and returned the piece back to where it was, and Hermione groaned.

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and turning your head up towards the ceiling.

“Hello,” Fred purred from above you, looking down at you.

You snapped your eyes open, not entirely used to Fred’s flirting yet. It took you by surprise most days, and he always managed to get you when you weren’t expecting it. You looked to Ron, gauging his reaction. His eyes stayed locked on Hermione’s frustrated face, arms crossed as he waited for her move.

“Hello,” you replied, turning your head to face Fred as he move to your side.

He leaned against your chair, his hand supporting his weight as he wrapped it around the back of your chair. The top of his hip bumped into your shoulder, and you resisted the urge to lean away from him. It’s not that Fred Weasley was disgusting or anything, he certainly wasn’t, but he had a reputation. Fred wasn’t known to be faithful or respectful of the usual rules regarding relationships. He wasn’t tied down, and half the student body has seen him naked (or wanted to). You had gone through your phase of liking Fred, and that phase lasted longer than you’d like to admit. You refused to boost his ego, though, and felt determined to not let this fake dating get to your head.

Ron was still busy with his chess match, now watching Hermione’s focused gaze turn into a nervous one as she became aware of Ron’s eyes on her. She bit her lip, tapping her fingers on the table.

Fred glanced down at you, quirking an eyebrow and nodding his head towards Ron. He was showing you that Ron wouldn’t care if you two dated, testing Ron’s limits.

Fred’s hand moved slowly from the back of your chair to your shoulder. His slender fingers pressed gently on your clothed arm, moving to brush a piece of hair from your neck. He twirled a piece of your hair in his fingers, raising an amused eyebrow at Ron’s lack of reaction.

“Merlin, Hermione! I’ve taught you 100 times!”

Hermione scoffed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“Ron!” she exclaimed back, offended.

“Look,” he moved his hand to one of her pieces. He whisked it across the board, then one of his pieces, and then one of Hermione’s, and then one of his own, “Check.”

“Maybe if you had patience and didn’t stare me down every time it was my turn-” Hermione started, glancing to you for support.

Her eyes widened when she saw the somewhat intimate position you were in with Fred, her sentence dropping.

“If you didn’t take so long, I wouldn’t stare you down!” Ron huffed and pushed his chair back, standing suddenly.

He hadn’t even glanced at you and Fred, missing Hermione’s shocked expression.

“What are you doing?” she questioned Fred, sounding even more offended than when Ron was yelling at her a moment ago.

“What?” Fred replied nonchalantly, pushing his body away from yours and taking Ron’s seat.

He moved the chair closer to the table, purposefully brushing his knee against yours. You knew he was watching your face, so you kept a neutral expression.

“He was all over you,” Hermione whispered to you, as if Fred wasn’t right in front of her,

“So?” you asked, acting as if it wasn’t abnormal for Fred to ‘be all over you’.

You were internally cringing at the whole thing, at Fred’s forwardness, lying to Hermione, the whole situation.

“Something must be in the air today,” Hermione said to no one in particular as she stood from the table, “everyone’s lost their minds.”

She left you and Fred, leaving him with a smirk on his face.

“I think that went well,” Fred said, moving the pieces on the chess board around swiftly as he set it up for a new game.

You moved to Hermione’s seat so you were across from him, rolling your eyes.

“This is ridiculous, Fred,” you said, and at the sound of your genuine annoyance his eyes were on your face.

The board in front of you was set anew, white closest to you. You let yourself sit in your frustration for a moment, looking down at the board and moving a pawn. Fred made no move to his own pieces, just staring at you from his side of the table.

“What d’you mean?” he said, watching your hand retreat from the board.

“These public displays of affection- isn’t it a little ridiculous?” you said, locking your eyes on the game in front of you.

A look of hurt flashed across Fred’s face, not that you would have seen it, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. His hand lazily moved one of his pawns.

“I don’t think so, no,” he said, leaning back in his chair and still studying your face, “I think they’re quite effective.”

“They’re only effective because I’m playing along,” you moved another pawn, hoping Fred would take the bait so you could steal his pawn.

“Which I appreciate fully,” he said, leaning forward and moving his pawn exactly where you wanted him to.

You stole his piece, advancing on the board. He hadn’t even registered the game, frankly, only looking at you.

“I feel like-” you didn’t know what you felt. You hadn’t put it into words, but you knew you didn’t like it.

Fred, and older, charming, handsome boy, was showing you a new amount of attention. Fred, a boy you had a crush on almost the entire time you’ve known him, was sending you flirtatious winks in the hallways and being very affectionate. Fred, your best friend’s older brother, was trying to date you to win a bet.

“-nevermind,” you finished, realizing you could not say any of this aloud.

Fred had a quizzical look on his face, watching you as you silently sat across from him. You met his eyes for the first time since he sat down, swallowing hard. You stared at each other for at least a minute, neither of you moving or breaking the contact. His eyes had an intensity in them that you had never seen before, but they were also gentle and kind. He looked soft, his face illuminated by the faint candle light and fireplace, casting a yellow hue over his skin. His hair was grown out and pushed off his forehead, falling easily on the sides of his face. He had taken his tie off, though still in his school uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mouth, usually in a resting smirk, was thin and straight, making him look rarely serious.

You felt like it took ages, but you finally broke his stare and cast your eyes downward at the board. You looked back up at him, seeing his eyes unmoving from your face.

“Your move,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Fred’s eyes shot to the board, and he moved the first piece he saw. His mind was racing as he tried to collect his thoughts, all of which were about you.

He had no idea what happened, but his heart was beating incredibly fast and his hands were sweating. Fred, a man who had never once done anything serious, was feeling very serious. He didn’t know what was going on inside his head, but all he knew was that he thought you were remarkably beautiful. You were perfect, really, and he could not wait for this game of chess to end so he could get the hell away from you.

Fred had never been in any sort of serious relationship. He had never dated a girl for longer than a few weeks, usually doing something that offended them (that was often mentioning how hot another girl was, or, in the worst case, snogging said other girl). He didn’t care for anything long-term, anything serious, because he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone that interesting. You, however, made his hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s mind run blank.

He blinked at the board, realizing it was his turn again, and felt like giggling like a school girl. He shot his head up, looking around the common room and pretending to be in a hurry.

“Have you got the time?” he asked, watching as you looked down at your wrist- eyes flickering to your hand, which he realized he wanted nothing more than to hold in that moment- checking the time on your watch and telling him. He sprang from his chair, “I told George I’d meet him in a few, can we continue this later?”

He hadn’t even waited for an answer before he was running through the portrait hole, nearly knocking a few first years off their feet when he bumped into them.

Fred disappeared from the common room, leaving you with the chess board.

For the next few days, Fred’s flirting was non-existent. He wasn’t ignoring you, but the entire dynamic between you had shifted; something changed. He wasn’t painfully arrogant, seeming to take more effort in the way he treated you. There was no inappropriate flirting, no lustful winks. You wondered if the bet was still on.

You found out soon that it was.

You and Hermione left the library fairly late into the afternoon, but neither of you minded the time that got away from you. You spent the day doing very little actual studying, talking and laughing instead. There was a very few amount of people who could tear Hermione away from her studies, and she didn’t often like to admit that you were one of them.

“Are you going to tell me why Fred was so-” she broke off, shuddering in some sort of disgusted way that made you laugh “-touchy with you the other day?”

Hermione had been pressing a little bit every time she saw you about Fred, and you had been avoiding it every time.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. That was just Fred being Fred,” you insisted, rolling your eyes playfully.

The guilt of lying to your friends left you a few days ago, instead you only felt overwhelming uneasiness as your schoolgirl crush for Fred resurfaced. You couldn’t help it; the hot older boy you had liked since your first year was suddenly putting himself in compromising situations with you. So, you couldn’t tell Hermione about Fred’ bet, because then you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself telling her about your genuine crush.

“Really?” Hermione teased, bumping her shoulder into yours.

“Yes, really,” you insisted, turning the corner to the main staircase that was crowded with students wandering the castle on the weekend afternoon, “ I don’t get why your fixating on this, ‘Mione.”

Your words, however, fell on deaf ears. Her gaze was locked on something on the stairs beneath you both. You followed it, seeing the heavy stream of students starting to part. From your position, you couldn’t see much through the crowd, but soon the crowd thinned around you and you got closer.

Fred stood on the landing, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. You bit your lip, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your chest. Such a grand gesture for a fake one-month relationship, this boy was determined to beat George and win those three Galleons. You felt Hermione clutching loosely to your arm, a dazed sort of look overcoming her features. You couldn’t help but laugh at this, prying yourself free from her grip and walking down the stairs to meet Fred.

He also looked sort of dazed, and with a quizzical expression you felt your face heat up under the stares of everyone in the stairwell. You came to the landing, looking up at Fred. His hand shook a little as he held the flowers, and he bit his lip harshly.

“Want to go out with me?” he asked, a surprisingly earnest voice replacing his usual smug one.

You glanced at your watch, moving to stand on your toes to reach him. You moved your mouth to his ear, speaking so only he could hear you, “You’re about a week early with this gesture, Freddie.”

He chuckled, and from being so close to him his chest bumped yours slightly. You fell to stand flat on your feet, still close to him. He looked down at you, holding the flowers between your chests.

“I don’t like following schedules,” he said, grinning down at you.

You resisted the urge to wrap your arms around his shoulders and never let go, settling instead on a bashful smile. He handed you the flowers, the brown paper they were wrapped in feeling a little damp from how profusely his hands were nervously sweating.

When he made this bet with George, he had just planned on kissing you in some busy hallway to announce the start of your relationship, as he did with most of his relationships. Somehow, though, you felt more special. His stomach sank every time he thought about the limited and fake month he’d have to with you, but he forced his way through it.

So he went to the field by Hagrid’s hut and picked the best flowers he could find, wrapping them in a brown paper and organizing them so they were perfect, because you were perfect.

He looked down at you, watching you as you held the flowers up to your face and smelled them. Your eyes were light and filled with innocent excitement, giving him an enchanting smile that showed all your teeth; you looked incredibly and undeniably happy, and that made Fred happy.

You had both nearly forgotten about the entire student body surrounding you both, watching the exchange. Fred, feeling unnerved by the vulnerability he had exhibited in such a large crowd, looked up and smiled smugly, wiggling his eyebrows. The entire staircase erupted in a somewhat jumbled mix of cheers and laughter, sending a deep red blush to your cheeks. Fred looked down at you, and in a moment of unfiltered happiness, brought his hands to your cheeks. He lifted your head from where you had ducked it to hide the blush, forcing you to look up at him with the embarrassed grin on your lips. Before he could think about what he was doing, his face was leaning closer to yours and his hands on your cheeks were pulling you closer to him. You barely had the time to register what was happening, only hearing the laughter and cheers around you get louder as Fred’s face was pressed against yours.

He was fast at first, passionate and quick as if he thought he only had a second before you pulled away. You couldn’t though, even though every bone in your body was telling you to. Your lasting feelings for Fred were telling you that this kiss was okay, that your friendship with Ron would take the backseat for a while as you let Fred press himself against you. Your thoughts were fading, being replaced with the hyper awareness of everywhere Fred was touching you. His lips slowed and his breathing became slower too. He let out a sigh through his nose, the air hitting your face and sending a brand new flush to your cheeks. His hands on your cheeks stopped pulling you towards him, now being a gentle and soft presence on your skin. His left hand was grazing your jaw, his calloused fingertips tickling the skin lightly. His right hand cupped your cheek firmly still, but his thumb rubbed against your cheekbone. You held the flowers in one hand, and it wasn’t until a few seconds into the kiss that you had even remembered you had hands. You rested your hand holding the flowers against his chest, tilting the bouquet so it didn’t hit Fred in the face. Your other hand snaked up his arm, clutching loosely at his strong forearm as it hung between your bodies.

You were both at each other’s wills, you would do anything Fred and Fred vowed to himself that he would follow you to the ends of the Earth, if you asked him to.

The spark moving through Fred’s body was nothing he had ever felt before. He didn’t feel it when he kissed Angelina Johnson, his first kiss, after winning a Quidditch match. He didn’t feel it when he drunkenly kissed Alicia Spinnet at a party. He didn’t feel anything close to this when he kissed Katie Bell in a game of truth or dare last year. You were completely new to Fred, and part of him already knew he wanted to spend every second with you from then on out.

You pulled away first, entirely and completely breathless. You looked up at Fred, mouth opening and closing like an out of water fish as you tried to find words to say in this moment. Fred just chuckled, bringing his hand on your cheek to graze his knuckles against your swollen lips. You closed your mouth, feeling okay with having nothing to say, and figuring it was better to not say anything anyways.

The crowd registered in your brain, making you feel extremely embarrassed again. You shoved your face into Fred’s chest, hiding the flush all over your face.

“Alright! Shows over, you perverts,” Fred called out, smiling widely at the group.

You heard the shuffling of feet begin around you, the traffic beginning once again. A few wolf whistles reached your ears, and you didn’t remove yourself from Fred’s chest until you were sure everyone had moved on.

Fred’s large hand rested on the back of your head, soothing down your hair. You found it oddly intimate, and you knew letting all of this happen was only setting yourself up for hurt when this bet was inevitably over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Pulling away finally, your flowers clutched at your side, you took a deep breath. You were bringing your gaze to look up at Fred, but a group of redheads standing behind him caught your eyes and made them widen.

“I am so telling mum you have a girlfriend!” Ginny squealed, her voice easily heard in the now empty stairwell.

Fred turned to face his family, seeing Ginny, Ron, George, Hermione, and Harry looking at him as if he’s sprouted five new limbs.

Ron elbowed Ginny, sending her a wide-eyed look, “my bestfriend is not his girlfriend!” Ron said confidently, then turning to Fred with a threatening look, “My bestfriend is not your girlfriend.”

Fred smiled nervously, “I’m not dating Harry, Ron,” he attempted to joke, only earning a laugh from George and an embarrassed look from Harry.

You peaked from behind Fred, meeting the group. You smiled at them sheepishly, meeting Hermione’s baffled eyes.

“I knew it!” she called, causing the entire group to turn their heads to look at her, “I knew you fancied her.”

Hermione looked quite proud of herself, but Ron looked fuming. Harry had sort of a ‘I-saw-this-coming’ look on his face.

“Guys,” you said, stepping towards them, “Ron.”

You gave Ron a pleading look, prepared to embarrass yourself and set the whole thing straight, even prepared to lose 3 Galleons. Suddenly, Hermione stepped between you and Ron.

“Ronald,” she said sternly, snapping Ron out from his angry mood briefly, “I hope you are not about to prevent a lovely relationship just because you have no emotional intelligence or maturity regarding these subjects.”

Your eyes widened from behind Hermione, casting a shocked glance to Fred. George and Ginny stifled their laughter, saving an embarrassed Ron some of his pride after being scolded by Hermione.

“But he’s my brother!” he whined, his anger leaving him and instead being replaced by some sort of tame disgust.

You couldn’t take it, every part of you wanted to tell them it was a bet, the galleons be damned. You looked to Fred with a warning look, only to see him digging in his pockets.

“George,” he called out, removing his hand from his pocket and clutching something, “catch.”

Fred tossed six coins at George, and George caught them with surprise.

“Bets off,” Fred said, looking painfully serious.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, an immense feeling of guilt wash over you. You had cost Fred six galleons, even after the work he had put in. He had kissed you for the sake of it, and you couldn’t go one month.

“Fred,” you stuttered, looking at him with guilt

His mouth broke into a grin, however, and he took a few steps towards you. George watched Fred’s movements, and began pulling away the group. Ron, still standing there with a confused look on his face, was tugged away by the back of his collar.

“I don’t want to fake date you,” he whispered to you once he was close enough, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Well, that seems like a lot of work for nothing, then-” you started, only for his lips to fall onto yours and silence you.

You couldn’t help it, again, as you let yourself melt into him. He pulled away all too soon however, resting his forehead on yours as he looked into your eyes.

“I want to date you for real,” he said, biting his lip nervously, “not as a bet.”

Your eyes widened, and once again you could not think of anything to say. You opened and closed your mouth, searching for the words, but gave up. You gave a relieved sigh, hearing the words you had dreamed of hearing since you were 12, and kissed Fred Weasley.

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cafeacademia · 4 years ago

Text

Promises

Draco Malfoy x Reader (smut)

Summary: Draco reunites with his best friend after the war, but when they see each other again, unsaid feelings come to the surface.

Warnings: Some angst/sadness, talk of war, lots of fluff, oral (fem rec), sex.

Word count: Approx 3600

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves! I really loved writing this one and I hope it came out well. Please let me know if Draco is too OOC, but I love playing with his softer side, especially post war. Enjoy! 💖 NOTE: Paragraphs in italics are memories

Taglist is open!

Draco lay awake, only one thing seemed to play on his mind as he allowed it to wander. It was a painful memory, one that lingered and nearly every time he closed his eyes, he saw you looking back at him with tears in your eyes. That was the last memory of you he had. And it hurt him deeply to know he’d done that to you. Of all of the things he had done in his life, hurting you was the thing he deeply regretted.

Please don’t forget me and all of the things we did.

His fingers traced over the written words, scribbled onto the back of a photograph he had given you, though now it was in his hands.

Draco sighed as he read the words over again, gently turning the photo over in his hands to see the image of you both together. He could almost feel the joy shared between you in that moment, had it not been for the pain it reminded him of. The loss that he faced.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Draco tried hard to hold his emotions in, but slowly, he was unravelling. The smart suit, the well styled hair, not a piece out of place, but it was all a front and it quickly came crashing down when the tears fell, his hands running through his hair, clinging harshly to the ashen locks, his tie feeling almost suffocating and Draco pulled at it until it was loose enough.

How could he have thrown it all away to appease someone that didn’t care for him? At least not cared for in the way he wanted to be. The way you cared for him.

It had always been secret. It had been rainy free periods you spent secretly up in a small tower room, nestled away atop a winding staircase that was tucked behind the portrait of a lady gilded in gold at Draco’s side. It had been hours spent in class, secretly trying to cast glances at one another, hoping you’d get paired together in practical studies. It was those moments in class that you had spent your time standing close to Draco, acting as if you barely knew each other beyond being classmates.

It had been those moments that you had harboured a secret of your own. A secret of your feelings towards the ashen haired Slytherin boy. It was the little touches, his fingers brushing against your hand under the table in class, it was lingering looks shared between you and uncontrollable smiles that you just couldn’t seem to calm until you looked away from him.

It was the way your heart fluttered when Draco said your name, the way he called you love and put his arm around you in that teasing manner. And you had wished it was real. That when he did those things that it was genuine, but you knew you’d never have that with Draco, so you cherished the secret friendship you had with him instead.

“We can’t see each other again, it’s the only way to keep you safe, love.” Draco told you as he held your hands in his. His stomach lurched, chest tightening with guilt for what he was doing, but he knew if he didn’t push you away, you might be pulled into the side of the war he was trying so hard to keep you away from. “Please, just come with me Draco.” You plead, tears rolling down your cheeks as you urged him to stay with you. “Please?” “You know I can’t, sweetheart.” He shook his head, trying his best not to cry, because he knew if he let his tears out, he would give in and go with you and then you really could be in danger.

“Promise you’ll find me when this is over.” You whispered, looking up at him, your eyes meeting his and he struggled to hold your gaze, seeing the hurt you held in your eyes. “I promise, love.” Draco reassured you. Before he could turn away to leave, you threw yourself into his arms, your head resting against him as you cried, your fingers slipping something into his jacket pocket. “Goodbye sweetheart.” Were the last words he spoke to you, holding you tightly before he let go, his eyes catching yours before he turned away, his heart sinking ever deeper as he left you behind.

And it was later when he pulled out the photo of the two of you together, laughing and standing close together, that Draco realised you had probably known that moment would come, else you wouldn’t have had the photo prepared to give to him with the note scrawled onto the back.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Draco internally scolded himself for having not kept his promise. The war had ended a year ago and he had yet to come and find you. And what made it all the more difficult was that he knew exactly where you were.

Would you run into his arms when you saw him? Would you reject him? Tell him you didn’t want to be around him? Truth be told, Draco had tried to uphold his promise as soon as the war had ended, but when he found you, exactly where you had told him you would be when all of this was over, Draco couldn’t quite bring himself to step back into your life.

What if you were happy without him? Granted, all you had ever been was friends, but Draco certainly couldn’t deny that maybe there was something else there too and he knew he’d never really know until he came back to you.

Sighing, Draco placed the little photo down on his nightstand and propped it up against a candle holder as his thoughts of you lingered in his mind.

Closing up shop for the day, you stepped out of the front door of your store giving Fred and George a little wave as they saw off the last of their customers. You counted yourself lucky to be able to even open your shop in Diagon Alley and even luckier to be receiving good custom and be opposite two friendly faces.

Having a rummage in your bag, you pulled out the keys, locked up your shop and took a few steps along the side of the building until you reached the entrance to the staircase that led up to your apartment above the shop. Walking up the steps, you turned and let yourself into the apartment. It wasn’t long before you had gotten yourself settled and comfortable with a warm drink and a good hearty fire started in your little wood burner.

You were lost in your evening routine when a knock at the door caught your attention and you frowned, setting your mug down on the coffee table as you got up. You hadn’t been expecting company, but you assumed that perhaps one of the Weasley twins needed something, the three of you often dropping by to borrow something or for a quick chat and a cup of tea.

But when you pulled the front door open to see your ashen haired boy, Draco Malfoy on your doorstep, you thought for a moment that you might be dreaming, because in truth, you had dreamed of this happening, of him arriving one day out of the blue and you almost didn’t believe it was real.

“Draco?” You whispered his name and he looked sheepishly at you, afraid of your reaction. You looked him over, a little stunned for a moment as he stood in your doorway. With his hands shoved in his trouser pockets, a wool jumper thrown over his button up shirt and a long black woollen coat over the top, he looked a bit more casual than when you had last seen him with slightly messy hair from the wind out in the street, cheeks a little flushed and you had to admit, it definitely suited him well.

“Hi love, is it okay that I’m here? I can go if-.” “Please don’t leave.” It came out barely above a whisper, your voice failing you as you stood under his gaze. It was a feeling you hadn’t realised you had missed, the way you felt under his eyes and despite his often brash, harsh demeanor, there was something so tender and gentle about him.

Swallowing harshly, you finally mustered up the courage to step aside and let him in, Draco slowly taking a step over the threshold and for the first time in over a year, you stood close to him again. You could feel his warmth, the edge of his coat brushing gently against you as he looked you over, soft blue eyes taking you in and he seemed to relax slightly in your presence.

There was a lingering silence and while his company was welcome and warm, the weight of all of the unspoken things you had longed to tell him almost had you bursting at the seams. You had no idea where to start, what to even say first and for a moment, Draco watched you as thoughts and emotions came to you, your eyes glistening as the swell of tears rose, your lower lip wobbling slightly as you struggled to find the words to say to him.

“Sweetheart,” He paused, about to tell you he wouldn’t stay long if his visit was causing you hurt, but before he could continue, hot, heavy tears escaped you, rolling down your cheeks and he didn’t spare a moment before tugging you into his embrace, bringing you the comfort he knew you had been reaching for, but hadn’t had the courage to take.

“I’m here, I’ve got you.” Draco’s voice was softer than you remembered, the years of pain and stress he had endured, forced to play as Voldemort’s pawn and the pressure from his family had obviously played into the boy you remembered at school, though with you he had always been gentler and kinder and while back then it had seemed uncharacteristic, now it felt natural to see him that way, Draco slowly allowing himself to be comfortable with his true nature.

“I knew you’d find me.” You sobbed against his coat, Draco’s tears falling as he almost curled over you, holding you so close, so tightly, afraid to let go of you. “I promised I would, love.” He reminded you, speaking softly against your hair as his hand gently soothed up your back to cradle your head against him. You breathed in deeply, tears slowing as his scent filled your senses, calming you a little, the gentle beat of his heart lulling you into a state of calm.

“I missed you so much.” His voice shook as he spoke, finally being able to let out everything he had held in for months of being away from you. As you whispered the words back to him, you clung to Draco, afraid to let go of him as he stood in the middle of your living room and that strange, hazy feeling of disbelief washed over you, making you feel like you might be dreaming, but every time Draco tightened his embrace or moved a little bit, it reminded you that it was very much real.

You stayed that way for a while, neither of you making moves to let go and by the time you finally parted from him, just enough to look up at the Slytherin, you had no idea how long you had been there for, holding each other, but you knew from a quick glance at the window that it had been a while as now it was dark and rain began to patter gently against the old, single paned wobbly glass windows.

Reaching up, your touch tentative as you slowly soothed your fingers over his cheek, Draco’s eyes softening as he allowed you, almost leaning into you as you took a moment to really take him in. He looked tired, but there was a vibrancy in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen in a long time and if you were to ask him, you were sure he’d tell you what he used to say when you were both at Hogwarts. “It’s because you’re here.” He’d say in a teasing manner. But maybe it really was the reason.

His jaw was lined with short, day old stubble, though it was still quite soft under your touch. Your fingers reached up, gently brushing at the hair above his ear, the pale whitened hair having grown out a little bit and to be honest, the softer, casual look suited him. Draco hummed quietly, almost involuntarily as his eyes closed at the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair, tucking some of it behind his ear.

And when he opened his eyes again, gazing down at you with a look in his eyes that brought back memories, times that felt so long ago, when they had only been a couple of years ago.

“Come here,” He laughed, reaching forwards and winding his arms around your waist, pulling you towards him before he gently took your hand in his. “May I have this dance?” He asked, bowing to you, his grin widening as you giggled in delight. “You may.” You replied, giving him a playful little curtsy before he lifted your arm so you could do a little twirl.

Draco looked at you with such a loving look in his eyes and your heart paced quickly in your chest, butterflies fluttering through you as you twirled for him. You turned to face him, your hands coming up to his chest to stop yourself in your movements, but you quickly pulled away. Draco couldn’t take his eyes off you, all night he had wanted to dance with you at the ball, all night he had wanted to see you twirl in your beautiful dress and watch the way you looked up at him with that lovely gleam in your eye. He just hoped no one noticed you were both missing from the hall, having snuck you off up to your secret little tower room so he could give you the dance he wished he had been able to give you down in the hall.

The way he looked at you, the way he tugged you close and held you as if you were something truly precious made you think that Draco might kiss you, and it was at that moment that you began to realise that you were falling in love with your best friend.

Draco wished things had remained that way.

“I’m so sorry, love.” He broke the silence, the way he almost sobbed the words out broke your heart. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry I left you, I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Draco teared up, the lump in his throat tightening as he reached up to brush his fingers against the back of your hand that rested on his cheek, gently holding it in both of his hands.

“It’s alright, it’s over and you’re here now, that’s all that matters Draco.” You whispered softly to him, letting him hold your hands in his and the Slytherin smiled softly at you, his shoulders relaxing a little as he took your words in. You wanted to reach up, lean into him and kiss him. You wanted to kiss Draco and show him how much he meant to you, how much you had missed him, how much you loved him, but you were scared. He’d only just come back, what if all he was looking for was his best friend and nothing more? What if he’d already moved on in the year after the war?

And while you were too shy to do it, too shy to finally admit how you felt after all of those years, Draco noticed. He noticed you deep in thought, love swirling deep in your eyes whenever you caught his gaze, the way his smile seemed to make you act all flustered and how his touch, intimate and gentle was making you lean into him.

And just like that evening of the Yule Ball, Draco pulled you close. He pulled you against his chest, your hands coming up to rest against him and before your shyness could take over and have you pull away, Draco leaned in, his lips brushing gently against yours, his eyes sliding shut as he listened to your surprised, little gasp, though you made no moves to stop him, only leaning closer into him.

Draco kissed you, his lips soft against yours as he embraced you gently, his hands resting at your lower back. Your kiss was timid at first, but as you relaxed into him, the reality of what was happening sinking in, you slowly deepened the kiss. He hummed when he felt your touch trail over his shoulders and comb through his hair until your hands met at the back of his neck, pulling yourself flush against his chest.

It was warm, Draco was warm and your stomach fluttered with butterflies, accompanied with something you could only describe as a gentle warmth that blossomed in your heart. Draco felt himself relax further, kissing you with a passionate intensity, but still so gentle and tender. Draco knew now as he kissed you, that you always had been the love of his life. He’d never find another person that knew and loved him as deeply as you did.

As you parted, Draco resting his forehead against yours, he relished in the feeling of warmth and love he shared with you. The soft crackle of the little wood burner was the only sound between the two of you, aside from your soft breaths and the sound of Draco slowly sliding his coat off his shoulders, draping it carefully over your armchair. You opened your eyes to meet his, the soft, warm glow of the fire was the only thing lighting the room as the evening drew in, but all of your focus was on Draco and all of his on you.

“Can we stay like this? Just me and you?” You asked softly, not wanting to disturb the peace the two of you had created. “I’d love nothing more.” Draco replied, embracing you against him as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips gentle against yours.

You leaned into him, whimpering softly as Draco pressed you up against the wall, his hands wandering as he kissed you breathless. “Make me yours, Draco.” You whispered against his lips, Draco’s grip on your waist tightened at your words.

His kisses trailed down from your lips, fluttering over your neck and you gasped softly as he gently worked you up. Pulling you into his arms, Draco picked you up, laying you down on the sofa before slowly teasing you, his hands tugging at your top. He was gentle, just as gentle as you imagined as he undressed you, pulling your shirt away and carefully removing your bra, Draco looking down at you in awe as he took you in. You looked beautiful beneath him, exposed with that sweet, flustered look on your features, eyes full of adoration as you looked up at the man above you as he undressed himself.

It was hazy and warm and so loving as he took you, his gentle movements bringing you so much pleasure. His hot breath against your tender skin elicited a soft moan from you, fingers working you in soft motions as he played with you. The way he looked up at you as he pleasured you, drawing circles around your sensitive bud, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle passion melted you, your eyes rolling back as he pulled moans and soft gasps from you over and over again, his name falling from your lips as he worked you.

Sliding his hardened length into you, Draco grunted softly, his eyes closing for a moment as he pulled out and thrust back into you, pulling a sweet, airy moan from you. Draco watched you through half lidded eyes, the way you arched into him as he made love to you, your eyes meeting his with nothing but love and passion for him. His touch trailed over your body, thumb circling over your sensitive bud as he watched you. Your moans were almost hypnotic, the way you whined out his name in pleasure as he hit the spot that made you gasp.

“I’ve got you, darling, let go.” He encouraged, and you did, your release rolling through you in a warm and loving intensity. Draco thrust into you, making love to you until his high came too, the soft grunts and moans, paired with the soft muttering of your name on his lips pulled a little whimper from you.

“I’ll take care of you, love.” He whispered, noticing the sleepy look on your features. And Draco gently cleaned you both up, his kisses soft and his eyes casting a gentle gaze over you.

“I love you.” It came out as a soft whisper from his lips, warm and sweet with an air of sincerity to his words as he gently stroked your hair away from your face. “Draco,” You paused with a sweet smile on your lips as you relaxed into his touch. “I’ve always loved you.” You told him, pulling him close. “I know, sweetheart.” He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Draco had always known.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace as Draco pulled you onto him so that your head was resting on his chest, your arm thrown over his middle as he drew in a breath, a smile forming on his lips. “Of course I will, darling. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” He reassured you. “I promise.”

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