#also get some class and maybe send me the hate tomorrow? give me a day to process

[harrywavycurly]

Just know I love y’all but if you send me an anon message saying I can’t grieve Liam’s passing then I need you to just understand something, I’m grieving the fact one of my favorite bands will NEVER be whole again to put it simply, Zayn can always possibly come back, but Liam is gone. I’m grieving the memories and the moments in my life that One Direction got me through because they’re all going to feel different now when I look back on them. I’m grieving the fact his family and friends lost a loved one.

[edwinspaynes]

THE MERRY THIEVES & CO 🏳‍🌈🏴‍☠️🚩

Written as a gift for @emmalovesfitzloved.

CHAT TRANSCRIPT between wilde-wanderer, eldricheternalflames, thomas-the-tree, kit-li-the-science-guy, kickitwithcordy, grumpycatcarstairs, sciencebitchgrace, annaisgay, and sugared-tea-sweetheart. 23 June, 2023. GROUP CREATED by wilde-wanderer GROUP: THE MERRY THIEVES & CO 🏳‍🌈🏴‍☠️🚩

wilde-wanderer: FRIENDS, ROMANS, COUNTRYMEN. LEND ME YOUR EARS, FOR I COME INTO OUR HALLOWED CHAT BEARING NEWS™ OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE.

grumpycatcarstairs: Jesus, Fairchild. There's no need for you to send messages in all caps. Don't you know that it sends Thomas into a needless tizzy whenever you do that?

thomas-the-tree: Why do you always assume that my alarmed expressions are Matthew's fault? I just got a 100 day Duolingo streak, and this apparently gets me some 3 days of free Super Duolingo (?) Though I don't know what that means.

grumpycatcarstairs: Maybe I know. You could have looked up to ask me. I am literally three (3) feet away from you right now.

thomas-the-tree: Do you know, joon?

grumpycatcarstairs: No.

kickitwithcordy: Oh, stop flirting, dadash. Now, Matthew, what was it you wanted to tell us?

annaisgay: If that's flirting, he's awful at it. #sorrynotsorry, @/grumpycatcarstairs.

grumpycatcarstairs: Lol shut up.

thomas-the-tree: He's making this face. 😒😒😒

wilde-wanderer: I give 0 fucks about Alastair's facial expressions, lol. Do you want to hear my news or not?

eldricheternalflames: Why don't you just tell us, Math?

wilde-wanderer: I got the lead in The Importance of Being Earnest! I am so excited. You all know how much I love that play!

kickitwithcordy: OMG Matthew, that's so so amazing! Come to dinner at Curzon Street tomorrow so that we can celebrate? James will buy us a Charlotte Russe cake. I know it's your fave 😋

wilde-wanderer: Can't say no to that. Though I'll also expect @/kit-li-the-science-guy to bring some lemon tarts.

kickitwithcordy: Was my offering not enough!? 😢

sugared-tea-sweetheart: Once can never have too much sugar.

wilde-wanderer: THANK YOU ARI! You are a blessing on this earth.

annaisgay: You are. And you're right, darling, you need to consume as much sugar as you can, so you can be sweet when I kiss you.

grumpycatcarstairs: God, I'm going to puke.

thomas-the-tree: You're stuffing your face with tahdig right now, don't lie to the class.

grumpycatcarstairs: And YOU'RE playing that awful Flappy Bird knockoff game instead of crushing it in Duolingo.

wilde-wanderer: VALID. Flappy Bird was the best thing ever. Fuckin hate that it got deleted like what in the name of Oscar Wilde was that

kit-li-the-science-guy: sry fam, just got the notification. grace and i were trying to see whether or not goblin blood served as a good retardant for flames that had a small spark of heavenly fire in them, but unfortunately. there were complications

sciencebitchgrade: basically he started a minor fire in our parlor. it happens.

wilde-wanderer: OMG YOU BLEW SHIT UP WITHOUT ME? My heart is breaking within my tender bosom. You do know how I so love to see the fruits of your labors.

thomas-the-tree: That's what she said! That's what she said!

grumpycatcarstairs: That's incorrect, but I support you anyway.

eldricheternalflames: I support you, too.

kickitwithcordy: Me three!

kit-li-the-science-guy: anyway lol

kit-li-the-science-guy: you want grace and i to make u lemon tarts

kit-li-the-science-guy: ???

wilde-wanderer: More you than Grace, really.

sciencebitchgrace: why would i ever want to be left out of the baking

kit-li-the-science-guy: why would i ever leave her out of the baking

eldricheternalflames: It's frightening how well-suited you are.

kit-li-the-science-guy: thank u :-)

kickitwithcordy: Anyway!!! To catch Kit and Grace up, we're having a massive blowout at my (and James's) flat tomorrow. There will be a Charlotte Russe cake, maybe some games

kit-li-the-science-guy: games? can we play bomberman? also yea grace and i will come w tarts

wilde-wanderer: I second Bomberman. Also Super Smash Bros. Please. And Pin the Junk on the Hunk

grumpycatcarstairs: No. Am I the only one here with sense? Well, me and Grace.

sciencebitchgrace: the answer to your question is a resounding yes.

sugared-tea-sweetheart: I'm also sensible.

annaisgay: Sure you are, dearest. That's why I caught you singing to Percival earlier.

wilde-wanderer: OH ANNA CAN YOU BRING PERCY TO THE PARTY

annaisgay: Transporting him to Marylebone from Percy Street (or to Curzon Street) would be nigh on impossible, so I'll say no. I'm willing to do a lot for you, Math, but not dragging a massive snake through the streets of London.

wilde-wanderer: Ugh, FINE. Waste my youth.

sugared-tea-sweetie: I'll work on her, don't you worry.

kickitwithcordy: What if I don't want a stuffed snake in my entryway?

eldricheternalflames: OUR entryway. And you really don't want to show Percy off as yours? Just for one night!?

kickitwithcordy: Every guest at the party is in the group chat. Besides, I suppose, Oscar, assuming that you're bringing him? 🐶🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻

thomas-the-tree: Wow, Alastair is right. You do use a lot of emojis.

thomas-the-tree: Not that that's a bad thing! It's a good thing. You're emotional. Emoji-tional. I really like that about you. But also I just want to say that Alastair is correct and no one can really contradict him in the future.

wilde-wanderer: Is Alastair making you say that?

grumpycatcarstairs: I don't make him do anything. He supports me because he loves me

eldricheternalflames: That's true. Remember when we all hated Alastair? Thomas always stood up for him.

thomas-the-tree: stopstopstop

grumpycatcarstairs: You had a crush on me LOL so embarrassing

eldricheternalflames: It was, dude. He was SO sappy

wilde-wanderer: Oh aLaStAiR wItH yOuR bEaUtIfUL HaiR hOw i CaNnOt hELp bUt sTaRe ----

grumpycatcarstairs: Update: He's blushing

kickitwithcordy: 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

eldricheternalflames: I love you SO much, Daisy. Snarky but sweet. Thank you for being just as you are. 😘

grumpycatcarstairs: Sappy meter: 10

kickitwithcordy: I love when you use emojis in solidarity with me.

annaisgay: I'd give them a 9. Remember when they went to prom back in high school?

wilde-wanderer: They went into an empty classroom and fucking WALTZED. Who the fuck does that? Romantics, that's who. James will go down in history as a Wife Guy when he and Cordelia finally tie the knot, and I'm the best man, and I toast him as a Wife Guy.

eldricheternalflames: You'll go down in history as the weird dude who gives bad toasts.

eldricheternalflames: 🤡😇😳😲😜

wilde-wanderer: No, I'll go down for being the World's Greatest Actor. Fam I'm ERNEST. I'm in an OSCAR WILDE PLAY. I am living the dream, communing with my idol, nurturing the hyperfixation!!!

wilde-wanderer: Speaking of my party, what time?

kit-li-the-science guy: were we talking about the party?

sciencebitchgrace: kinda

annaisgay: Yes

kickitwithcordy: He just said 7 PM. Since I'm extorting James into going to King's and purchasing the cake, I feel that going with his schedule would be a good sport.

thomas-the-tree: We'll see you there!

grumpycatcarstairs: We'll see you there.

thomas-the-tree: Jinx you owe me a kiss

wilde-wanderer: Sappy meter: 10/10. 🖕

CHAT TRANSCRIPT between kickitwithcordy and eldricheternalflames

kickitwithcordy: Sorry I'm texting from the bathroom. Doing my hair and other ladylike things. When are we going to tell them?

eldricheternalflames: That we tied the knot? I'm sure that they'll notice the ring. Unless you want to take it off for the night? I'd totally understand

kickitwithcordy: Never.

[djino04]

Touchstarved-OmegaVerse serie

For the first day of FEBUWHUMP 2023 (@febuwhump ) . The theme is touchstarved

POV Saul

For some reason, Rosalind decided to send Andreas on a diplomatic mission to Eraklyon for two weeks. That's a long time two weeks, it's even longer when you're an omega and the alpha who usually helps you is gone. I think the headmistress did this to punish us/me for the failure last time, I can't see any other explanation. Because any sane person doesn't put the word "diplomatic" and Andreas in the same sentence. But you may say, Rosalind is far from being sane.

So I act as if nothing had happened, while the pain invades my body day after day. This doesn't stop me from giving my classes to the specialists, nor from fighting against Dane to supposedly do a demonstration, but I also take the opportunity to put him in his place. This kid really needs to come down a bit. He's gotten a little too big of a head since Rosalind decided he'd be useful to her. So sure, he's good, but he'd be even better if he practiced instead of strutting his stuff. I feel like I'm seeing Andreas again at times. Except that Andreas trained at night and had private lessons since he was a child, which is not the case for Dane. He needs to understand that he still needs to improve. I'd like to avoid him learning that lesson by getting killed. 

Anyway, all that to say, I'm carrying on as usual, or at least trying to. The first week was pretty easy, but then the first symptoms came. First, a headache came on and it refuses to let go no matter what medication I take. Then my stomach decided that it would refuse some of the food I would try to swallow. And now my bones are starting to hurt. I know the next step will be shaking and dizziness before I am unable to stand up. At first, I was hopeful that the more serious symptoms would not present themselves until Andreas returned, but that illusion did not last long.

I hate being an omega... And I hate Andreas for making me promise not to take omitrix. If I could have swallowed the drug, everything would be fine, I would be sound asleep in my bed, instead of being kept awake by increasingly unmanageable pain. I have rarely had to suffer from the lack of alpha thanks to Farah and I wonder if this is a bad thing after all. Maybe it would be easier if I were used to the pain or maybe the symptoms would take longer to come on. It's hard to say and I wonder if there are any studies or anything about it. I realize how little I know about omegas. I refused to learn too much because I didn't want to be an omega. I still don't want to be one, either. It's so much easier to be an alpha... 

A sharp pain stabs my stomach and I can't hold back a groan. I try to breathe through it and curl up on my side, waiting for it to pass. If I listened to my instincts, I would spend the remaining four days before Andreas returns, in this position in my bed. But I refuse to give Rosalind that pleasure so tomorrow morning I'll get up and go to class as usual, no matter how much it hurts.

************************

When my alarm goes off, I wince as the noise makes my headache worse. I have no desire to move because I know that any movement will only increase the pain I feel. I feel like all the fairies in the school have decided to use their power on me tonight and will do it again the second I get out of bed. 

Yet, I have no choice, I have to do it. So I gather my courage and lean on my arms to straighten up. This simple movement makes me dizzy and I fight to keep the contents of my stomach in its place. But I refuse to simply let myself fall back into the pillows. The first class starts in an hour, I know it's going to take me a long time to get ready so I have to get up now.

After almost 45 minutes of struggle, I am ready. I see my reflection in front of the mirror and I can hardly recognize my face. It's pale, with huge dark circles under my bloodshot eyes. I feel like I've aged 10 years in one night.  No student is going to be able to miss the fact that I am sick. As long as they don't understand the source of my illness, I'm fine with that. The fact that I'm an omega is becoming less and less of a secret, but I hope I can keep it that way for a while longer. I don't know what's in store for me when the truth comes out, but it won't be good for me, that much I know.

I look at the time. I have 15 minutes left to make the trip to the training ground. I glance out the window and almost groan when I see how far it is to the castle. This daily commute seems so long today. I am so tired and it would be so easy to finally decide not to go. I'm not going to be much use during training but that would mean letting Rosalind win again. She has far too many wins under her belt for me to let her have this one willingly. I'll go to class until I can't get out of bed. That's why I finish getting ready by putting on my shoes. I start to grab my sword when there is a knock on my door. I'm having a little trouble guessing who it might be by the time, but I guess I'll find out soon enough: 

"Come in."

To my amazement, it's Sky who walks through the door. He frowns as he closes it behind him. I guess it doesn't take a genius to know something is wrong with me. But his presence here before class is quite disturbing, which is why I ask him: 

"Sky, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

He doesn't answer me verbally, but he walks towards me with a purposeful step and I quickly find myself with his arms around me for a hug. Relief immediately washes over me as the pain immediately begins to recede. This does not prevent me from worrying about the reason of this impromptu hug. That's why I ask Sky: 

"To what do I owe the honor of this hug?"

I hear Sky's response, even though her face is buried in my shoulder: 

"Andreas texted me to tell me to give you a hug since you are apparently incapable of asking for help. Those are his words, not mine, but I pretty much agree with him."

I blow my nose, amused. I in turn hug him to me. We shared hugs throughout Sky's childhood, but he's grown up and those moments are rare now. I will cherish this moment even if it didn't act like medicine for me. Especially since I thought I would never be able to do it again after I was sent to prison and even afterwards because of the anger my son felt towards me. But things have changed now and this hug shows it. I also have another feeling that comes over me that I can't describe, the thought that Andreas is watching over me, even though he is far away. I can't even get mad at him for stepping in without asking me. On the other hand, I know I owe Sky an explanation, so I give it to him: 

"I didn't come to see you because it's not your place to deal with this kind of thing."

I feel him shake his head before he replies: 

"Yes it is, that's what pack members do, they help each other and they are there for each other. We are part of the same pack, Saul, and I can help you. I should have known what was wrong even without Andreas' message. I noticed this weekend that you weren't 100% but I didn't want to bother you with questions. There is so much going on with Rosalind right now, I didn't even think about what Andreas' absence meant for you.  You've been suffering when I could have helped you a few days ago, if only I had understood."

I tighten my grip on the back of his neck before replying: 

"Hey, hey. Stop that, right now, okay? You didn't do anything wrong, I kept it from you. But I thank you for coming to me when Andreas told you about it. Despite what you say, you didn't have to help me." 

I know that he is surely not convinced and besides he confirms it by asking me gently: 

"Promise me to ask me to help him next time."

I need to stop making promises to Andreas and Sky.  But I know my son won't let me out of this room until I do, so I comply: 

"I promise you. I will come to you if the same situation happens again."

That seems to be enough for him because he doesn't add anything else. And for once, my promise gives me some leeway. There's no way I'm going to intrude on Sky's life because of my omega status. I'll have to find some other solution than omitrix to make myself independent from him or Andreas. I don't know where I stand with the latter. Does he help me only because he has to? Or is he doing it because he wants to? When in doubt, I have to look for something else that gives him the freedom to leave whenever he wants. I hope he doesn't because I appreciate having him back in my life, but neither he nor Sky deserve to have an omega as a burden. There has to be another way, I just have to find it. 

But that's a thought for later. For now, I'm enjoying the moment. The pain is slowly diminishing and in a few hours it will be a distant memory. There are 12 minutes left before the start of class, I have plenty of time to enjoy having my son against me for the first time in many months, before I have to head to the training field. 

[erectedingold]

Life Update

Writing this on my phone, think i might rn getting a little sick 😓

but lots going on rn, started school & tbh as i get older i realize school ain’t that bad bro! im so thankful for my classes & i dropped a science class cause fuck science i hate that shit SO MUCH. but when i was doing that i mentioned in my email to my guidance counselor the college im wanting to go to & she says to me “you probably won’t get in your gpa isn’t there & your SAT scores aren’t there as well, maybe check out *college*”

first of don’t talk to me like that. i know academically i am far from great but my talent & ambition outweighs ALL of that. never tell an artist they can’t go to an art school they deadass don’t even have math classes there dude like who tf do you think you are? i know my talent & what i can & cannot do so don’t doubt me ever again bitch LMAO. second don’t tell me where YOU think i should go. like please. i am being so fr don’t ever tell me where i belong because ill go where i want. so watch yourself the next time you talk to me.

that whole interaction ruined my day. my whole life i’ve been doubted but i know who i am & what i can do.

but i wrote my essay & it’s amazing, & now im gonna get 2 letters of recommendation from my teachers. one from my english teacher & the other from my business teacher. then i got 2 open responses i need to write for & then i can send my applications. if i don’t get into this school im applying for in boston idk what ima do tbh, im applying to one in NY & one in NYC but like fuck bro i’d rather one here in boston especially when i have friends here. also applying to one in california 😴

but back to school, i think the older i get the more i realize how EASY shit is, my math is easy, my english is easy, intro to psychology easy, history is a joke, & my related class is easy. it’s just managing time in the class room like damn it makes me annoyed that my senior year of high school i don’t have anxiety with school anymore 😭 is what it is though that just makes this year easier for me 🙏

my new film is dropping tomorrow i’m really nervous for it i’ll be honest idk why, im afraid of it getting NO views but also it doesn’t matter it’s my art & im proud of it 😴 it don’t matter what anyone thinks because i do it for me 🤷 i make art because creating makes me feel alive. that’s what i do it for, i make because its second nature to me, it’s like breathing i don’t think about to at all it comes so naturally to me & im truly blessed to have my brain this way.

i hope everyone who views it can feel the passion though 🙏

I’m also not taking any disrespect anymore, i’ve been on my journaling shit & some more self development. i’m going to start reading more because i want to be a better writer & also expose myself to more challenging material. i’ve been watching more international films which has been on my list for a while, subtitles aren’t that scary guys! enjoy the art made around the world never let a language barrier stop you from that.

but also finally just more self discovery on my end & solidifying my boundaries whether people like it or not because i will NOT allow myself to be disrespected in my one life. idgaf if it’s just “jokes” because my perception is my reality & if your joke is disrespectful then shut the fuck up 🤷 i also won’t be giving my energy to people who don’t match or or appreciate me. you don’t deserve me. there some people who i show nothing but kindness & give the biggest helping hand to when needed & i don’t get that energy back so guess what im not trying anymore because you’re not worth my time. simple as that.

i’m not going to give pieces of myself to people who no longer deserve it. i know that i always have good intentions & share my kindness always & i will no longer allow myself to be a doormat. people have mistaken my kindness for weakness & i won’t let them mistake it anymore.

i don’t have to have everyone like me or respect me so boom if you don’t get out of my life i don’t need you because when i look in the mirror i love myself & respect myself & that’s all i need. as long as you have yourself you have somebody.

i’m also cutting out some bad habits that i started that have been damaging to myself. i deserve better because i love me.

i am proud of me & who i’m becoming. ive been making big changes this year & im telling you 2025 will be the year of diego. im manifesting it.

but yeah i’ve been getting closer with my dawg nathan much respect & love to him always. amazing & talented filmmaker who is my best friend dude & im happy me & him have gotten closer recently. we both got broken up with around the same time & we’ve talked like everyday since dude, the universe has plans for us. we’re gonna be great i can feel it.

&& speaking of universe that’s another thing. the universe has a plan for everyone including you reading 🙏 if you feel lost something will happen to bring you onto the right track of self discovery & self love. keep going even when it’s hard because the reward will be great. i have full trust that everything i manifest will come to life & i’ll reach all my goals.

thank you for reading this blog post, lots of changes in my life & i am human & experiencing & living & breathing & feeling emotions. thankful for my mind.

- Diego Muñoz

[laughroditee]

I just need to vent about some personal bullshittery, don’t mind me.

Tomorrow, my daughter will be going to meet her teacher for 2nd grade. Only we still have not received any paperwork about supplies or what teacher she’ll have or anything like that.

To make matters worse, I checked in on the Class Dojo app, and for the past few weeks, I’ve been getting updates for another elementary school which isn’t my daughter’s but is still in the city. That’s weird. I figured maybe that’s a mistake or something, and I disregarded it. I checked in today to see if her school posted any updates about the open house tomorrow and it didn’t. Out of curiosity, I clicked the “kids” tab and found that she’s listed under both schools????

And now I think they actually switched her to this other school without ASKING OR INFORMING US AT ALL!?!?!? Like, I get that there’s an overpopulation thing going on in the schools here, but I didn’t sign up to volunteer to move her, and the FUCKING LEAST they could have done is TOLD ME ABOUT IT so I can show up to the CORRECT SCHOOL ON OPEN HOUSE DAY!! Like, did they figure that she could move now that she doesn’t need to get services from the school or something?

I’m so fucking livid, I’m crying.

I hate sudden changes. I moved around my entire life, and even as a single mom with my older son (they have a 12 year gap between them), I had to move him around a lot too which I feel like hurt him a lot, so when I had my daughter, I wanted her to have the stability that I didn’t have and that I couldn’t give my son at the time, and this just feels like salt in that wound. This also means that SHE WILL HAVE NO FRIENDS IN SCHOOL. Ugly crying right now.

I had hoped this school district had gotten better with communication since my son was in school here, but apparently not. Like, is it really that hard to let parents know where they’re sending their kids if they moved them?? Or to get things right if they didn’t?

I have to remind myself that she’s good at making friends, that she’s resilient, but it’s so hard to turn off that protective instinct when your kid has had delays and struggles. But she’s fine, she’s fine, she’s fine. I sat her down and let her know that she may have been moved to a different school and basically she was like “Okay. I have to watch Octonauts now or I’ll miss the movie.” 😑 I swear…

So, I’ll be making a phone call tomorrow morning I guess, while the plumber is here (I hate strangers in my space), so I can find out what school to show up at.

[starsmuserainbow]

I'm trying really hard to do less OOC because I feel like I'm doing too much of that lately (though then again, without that, I'll just end up being silent for like weeks days on end when I don't manage to write something? feels worse, really), so, let me just throw some thoughts out all into this one OOC post instead.

I love all my chars so much I much too rarely say that. Currently, that's especially Akari, Starlight, Moonshot and Lightning.

I really wish I could draw better - I feel like I just missed out on internalizing some 'logic/perspectives' part at some point and will just forever be unable to do anything other than direct front view at all. I tried to start a drawing recently, and after trying the face like twice, I gave up because it looked really really bad. Maybe starting with the face is also the wrong point to start at, but it almost always is where I start, idk.

I'm trying to get myself a pc android-emulator to use another social media (starts with i and has a camera as symbol) because for some reason the chats over there have certain forms of shared pictures or whatever not supported when you look at it from a computer, also there's more features that the pc version just doesn't have and it's really frustrating and I don't wanna use my phone for it. Also fun fact: the windows store "app" of that media is the same as if you open the website in your browser (when closing it even said something about edge iirc), none of the app features are there, it's really stupid to even have that in your store if I can just visit it in browser for the exactly same result. Wish I could just somewhere say 'just pretend I'm a tablet or sth' to the website so I wouldn't have to bother looking for a emulator. (And I already tried that mobile website view thingie, that doesn't change anything)

I feel like I'm always just, like, attaching myself to others and getting to experience things through those others, always being only, like, an attachment, some annoying little random person that simply clings too hard to that other person that brought me into thing.

I'm trying to keep up writing again, I really don't want to keep having people wait for like a month or a little more. I managed to do it 2 days in a row now, and have something prepared for tomorrow already too, so maybe I'm on a good progress here. Then again, I also kinda had more free time these last 2 days or so bc I didn't feel so well.

It's just so darn hot. Can we please be done with summer already? Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the beachy vibes and stuff for my characters and everything, but in person I just never really at all enjoy summer and I just want to stop melting.

When chats are busy, and I say something (which I rarely do) and no one seems to answer to it, I feel so very much like I'm annoying. It's obviously just a brain thing, and nothing actually true, but man I hate feeling like that. It's usually almost impossible for me to try to say the thing again to try to get someoen to answer to it another time.

I really wanna be more active around the dash again. Liking things, perhaps sending things too (if I can get myself that far) - I feel like many of the ppl I see on my dash regularly I have nothing going with and doubt myself that they're even interested anymore even when we're still mutuals, and a part of me goes "you should just unfollow, clearly they're not interested anymore", but I don't want to give up on even more blogs than I already did somewhat recently (some months ago I unfollowed some I think) and I really have to try to find another way to fix this.

I'm so glad I found a way to access the yellow text color again. It'll be so nice to be able to use that again. And yes, I know that that color still looks weird even on my theme, but that's not my fault. All the other colors when used are on the theme in "npf-class:joey" etc, but for some reason this color never is. I tried to contact support about that before to get those into classes too which would allow me to style them in my theme (I'm doing it with some colors, if you see posts on my theme you see what I mean) so they're better readable, but they didn't understand what I meant and I can't explain it properly. Now that I looked at it again, it seems they fixed it for one of the colors - I think it used to be both red and yellow having that problem, now it looks like red styled properly - so maybe it's just not getting fixed bc they removed yellow from being an available color in the editor. Oh well.

Okay, that's all I can think of for now. Sorry for the long thing.

[polandspringz]

vent//

wrote this in my planner and probably should just keep it to myself but i like the feeling of yelling into the void, bc most ppl won’t click on a vent post but theres the destructive self satisfaction of the belief that maybe someone will- anyway, my normal method of dealing with these feelings is to warp them into a self indulgent fanfic that changes enough about what im thinking so that its not accusatory, but helps me by just getting my thoughts out but gives me an uplifting feeling, a better conclusion to whatever im frustrated about (if you read my designing in devildom fic, the birthday fic from last year was an example of that) anyway, if you see any weirdly flowery phrases in this vent (to whoever is actually reading this, hello) its sort of my way to also practice my writing, because i cannot write or think without a voice telling me i’m on a stage and need to tell someone or have someone listen, and there it is again

anyway for the third time, that’s sort of what this vent is about- the core of it really. im just a college student whose very lonely near the end of her week in the dorms. ive been very frustrated as of late because i tried to get out a competition project my professor suggested i do but i wasnt forceful enough and now theyre doubling down on me doing it; its weird because last year this time around i was lunging at every possible opportunity, but now i don’t want anything to do with it. so i’ve been anxious about that all day. i also start work tomorrow as an assistant to said professor, and that’s also stressing me out partially. i cried during a class w/ another professor bc i was just so stressed and overthinking my lack of creativity, but, well, you know the word that’s coming next. anyway-

anyway anyway, back to being lonely. it’s been a feeling thats been building up since the pandemic, and i know everyone experienced it to some extent, and outside of the pandemic, everyone experiences it to some extent as they get older. HS friends part ways as college happens, but its still distressing. for me, first one friend went away, then it was two. granted, i had already been feeling the 2nd friendship fray, so that one hasn’t been that painful, but it’s been the successive ones in recent months. one of my friends get medicine for their focus, and i hate to say this, but they’ve become a boring person. they don’t have time to watch things anymore, all they do is work, work, work. the one thing we had started to really bond over, anime, they now have no time for. and it gets tiring staring back at days and weeks of unanswered messages even when you’re only sending them something funny you know they would appreciate

and its that same sort of feeling for the other friendships that ive been feeling stressed about. i know that other ppl get burnt out too and im supposed to respect people’s need to space, i understand that, and it’s because i understand that that i keep feeling guilty over being upset. i want to stress to the imaginary audience that its not just one message goes unanswered and i get upset, its days of it. when it goes from someone you used to talk to 24/7 to nothing, it can be shocking, and this pattern has been happening to me for a while. in a way, i suppose i do have trauma associated with it (little t trauma for clarification) because i had a friend in middle school that I drifted apart from mid high school because we were at separate schools, and they stopped talking to me slowly until something happened when we tried to hang out that really upset me, and i got mad about it but didn’t communicate it well and then we barely spoke again. i don’t like internalizing these feelings, but i don’t know how to bring these things up without berating myself for not respecting people’s space and then i continue to spiral. but anyway, i got off track again-

with my other friendships, its the same sort of thing. one of the reasons i question whether im neurodivergent or not is because in the past few years i have felt myself being overly conscious of social situations. i think about maintaining eye contact as i do it, i tell myself to nod and smile and react to things people say. i realized at sometime in hs that i needed to be more equivalent exchange about things with my friends, and i hate feeling like this but its almost like a tally system in my head- for everything i ask my friends to watch i try and watch or do something for them to even out the friendship, because otherwise i feel like im too overwhelming, i need to restrain myself because otherwise they’ll get annoyed that everything’s always about ME, and i don’t want my friends to dislike me, i want them to be my friends, so it really hurts me when ive been putting in a lot of mental work to try and “be a good friend” so i don’t upset ppl and then i don’t receive that back or at least not in the exchange i expected; i.e. we watch a show you like, now we watch one i like, i give you a gift, you give me a gift back eventually (does not need to be physical gift, some acknowledgement, some thank you, etc.) i mention shows in particular since im normally recommending anime to ppl frequently, and i know it probably doesn’t show bc it seems like i recommend everything i watch that i like, but i really do think a lot about whether a show has something in it my friends would like- even if its not their normal genre, i see there’s something in it, a dynamic, the artwork, something, and there was a time where it felt like ppl were almost making a joke out of telling me No everytime i tried to recommend them something, like it was funny to shut me down like that, but luckily i have moved past that feeling

but anyway, right now im just lonely. tired of seeing my own messages staring back at me. i want replies to my messages, but then i feel guilty, that its not deserved, because there are times where i dont reply to those that were also sent. its that equivalent exchange thing again, where i cant be mad because even though i am experiencing this x amount of times, i did the same thing y amount of times, so i shouldnt be mad because it’s normal. but im just lonely. i dont really have friends on campus yet, not any true friends that im not desperately trying to appear normal around (the way i try and act SO normal around my roommate is insane). the people that i do know on campus always forget to make plans when they say we should. the clubs i try to join end up giving me more anxiety than fun. i eat alone in the dining hall, i walk alone to class among the groups of friends. i have eaten two meals with other people on campus by plan/coincidence since september. it hit me today that registration for the fall and housing would be beginning soon, and i had the realization that i don’t know what one of my friend’s, one of the few that are still in state, will be doing after they finish up there work at their current college and need to transfer somewhere. they will probably be going to join my other two friends out of state. its not my life so it’s not my decision to have a part in, and i didnt feel bitter when i realized that they probably wont be joining me at my school since registration is so soon, but i did feel sad. i dreamt about another hs friend last night who i have long since lost contact with. i don’t know what im going to be doing when i get out of school

random other vent to end on, but i cant stop thinking about stickers. ive been internalizing this as well, but going back to the gift giving thing, ive been very frustrated bc someone offered to buy me stickers for my birthday last month, so i sent them a list. they asked for my list again, forgetting that i had already gave it to them. i resent it. days went by and nothing, i knew they were forgetting, but it was too awkward to bring up, and i felt selfish and awful for keeping track of it in my head. eventually, i had an impulse purchase want, and they said they would buy that for me instead. i was torn, bc while i wanted the new item, i was upset that they had forgotten again about the stickers. i really had wanted them, and i wasnt able to buy them myself because the shipping was expensive, but for a birthday gift i reasoned that it would be acceptable since it was only a few items. i decided on the trade off of the new item, thinking the person would remember it better. they forgot. then a video game came out and i really wanted it but i was betting on either saving up for it when my job started, or i wouldve used the gift cards my mom gets as rewards for shopping in an app to pay for it since she always gives the rewards to me. but bc the person hadnt gotten me a gift yet and other ppl knew about it, my mom basically told them to buy me the video game and so i got that. so now i feel like im not allowed to be mad about the stickers. but the thing that made it worse was the whole time while i was waiting for the stickers/ them to read my list in the first few days, they were buying stickers for themselves. and they were showing them to me. and i couldnt help but think how i wanted them. and it still hurts, like i hate how i still feel bitter when they show me their stickers, because all i can think about is how i didnt get what i wanted, and it makes me feel like a selfish, ungrateful person. it didnt help that it was coupled by another person forgetting about me around the same time, another thing im too scared to bring up irl because i know that nothing good can come of it! there’s no way to tell someone something like this without sounding selfish and like you’re whining, i hate it, and i hate it because i should be happy now and leave it in the past, but i cant

[aidanezra]

Failure? Tony Stark x Son!Reader (Part One)

Prompt: During dinner one day, the topic of Y/N’s grades comes up.

Themes: angst, eventual father/son fluff

Pairings: son!reader x father!tony stark (also pepper is reader's mom!)

A/N: I started writing this back in 2019 and just now finished it but this is still my first piece of writing posted here, so any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Plus, what's a first post without some angst? I hope you enjoy it :)

Warnings: angst, depression, a representation of my shitty ass eating habits + lots of friggin swearing

Words: 1,028

Part Two

Part Three

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

My body felt slow like quicksand as I moved to the dinner table. I hate this. I know what my Dad is going to say the moment I answer his nightly question of “How were your classes?”, Shit Mr. Stark, absolute Shit, with a capital ‘S’. I despise papers, I hate the classes I write them for and I hate the papers too. Before we know it, maybe my Dad will hate me too?

I sloppily fall into my chair at the dining table, right across from my father, who, at the moment, is staring blankly at a screen. His eyes don’t even gaze my way when my chair makes the most annoying high-pitched sound, he doesn’t even acknowledge me. Well that sounds about right.

Mom yanks the clear, glass, electric screen from Dad’s iron grip, “Come help me bring dinner to the table, will ya?” she chirps and I can almost hear my Father groaning in annoyance. 

Once the food has all been brought to the table and put on everyone’s plate, my Dad finally looks at me. It’s a cold look, stern too, but I still want to search for the ounce of love he may have for me in those brown eyes of his. His mouth opens like he’s going to speak, but recoils, and purses his lips.

He begins to speak again, “So, kiddo, how were your classes today? Anything new happen?” 

“They were fine. Boring and uneventful, but fine.” I spin my fork around in my pasta, procrastinating the thought of having to bring the fork up to my lips. He pauses and drops his own fork, causing a clink sound to erupt, furrowing his eyebrows as hs eyes stare straight at me.

“What grade did you get on that paper?” He raises an eyebrow at me and then gently pushes his plate aside.

“What does it matter?” 

“Well, I would like to know if you worked hard enough on it to get an acceptable grade.” He crosses his arms over his chest and I can almost feel the large amounts of varying emotions boiling up inside me, ready to burst and roll right off my tongue.

“I got a D minus,” I flinch, prepared for the worst possible outcome, but instead of yelling and screaming, I get silence. 

“Go to your room, you’re rewriting that essay and turning it in tomorrow at noon.”

“What? That’s not nearly enough time! You-” I’m cut off by the sound of my Dad’s chair scratching against the tile floor as he moves to stand. He gestures towards the hall, and I take that as my que. I retrain from running and semi-calmly walk towards my room. Accidentally slamming the door behind me. My hand grazes against the doorknob before swiftly locking it. 

My feet bring me to my unmade bed and I plop myself on the side of it. I feel tears pricking at the corner of my eyes, begging to be let go. I seem to give in because before I know it, wet hot tears are pouring down my cheeks as I let out sobs and pull my legs up to my chest.

It’s just a stupid grade, yet, to my Dad, it’s everything. I get good grades, then I’m good for him, otherwise, I'm just something he can throw away when I’m no longer useful to him or the Stark legacy. Its. Just. One. Stupid. Grade. Yet at the same time, it’s my worth as a person and a member in this family. I hate this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony’s POV

Y/N's door slams shut and I flinch, beginning to regret sending him to his room. Did I overreact again? Was I too harsh? Should I be easier on the kid?

I'm ripped from my thoughts when Pepper chimes in a moment later:

"You shouldn't be so hard on him. He's trying."

I grimace, Pep's right. But I dont want to admit it. "He needs to work harder. He's slacking."

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Tony, he's a kid, your kid. No, our kid. And he needs your support, not your constant criticism."

I cross my arms, sliding down my chair, my gaze directed down the hall at Y/N's room. I'm not criticizing him, I'm only helping him. Teaching him self discipline. If I don't, he'll turn out like me and have to do it on his own.

"I'm not criticizing him, Pepper. I'm being a father."

"Not the greatest." She mumbles under her breath, I pretend to not have heard her and continue our meal. In silence. Agonizing silence..

As I finish my plate, Pepper gets up, heading to the kitchen to begin the nightly chores. I get up behind her, meeting her at the sink, "I've got it, Pep."

"Thanks." She smiles, a small but genuine smile and heads back to the dining room, retrieving the rest of the dishes. I begin to separate them into dishwash and handwash, starting to load up the dishwasher. My mind running a thousand miles per hour.

Am I becoming my father? Am I hurting my son? Am I doing something wrong? Am I the bad guy?

"He didn't touch his plate, again." Pepper cuts my thoughts short, yet again. I cringe as she scrapes the plate clean, following by her handing me the plate. I smile to myself as I take it from her hand. Y/N's used the same plate since he was 5, the same one he and I made together. He decided he wanted to have his hand print and mine together, his is in blue and mine in red. I remember it like yesterday, his little giggles as I painted his hand a bright blue. I'm sure to gently wash it, to not accidentally wash off the 10 year old hand prints placed on it. I rinse it and put it aside, continuing with the rest of them. Letting my mind run free yet again.

I'm not a bad father. I'm doing what I have to. I'm protecting him and nurturing his potential. My criticism is constructive, not harmful. Did I hurt him?

I couldn't have hurt him. Did I?

[deathxwalkerxx]

I’ll See You Again

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, talks of dying. Very crappy letters. 

Summary: You were in love once, and then the love of your life disappears. Will you see her again, or is it too late? 

A/N: @mrsrushman @bliam-fortuna @neverylee Idk if you guys still wanna be tagged but let me know!! Also this a little bit longer, I apologize.

part 4

Day 1

Hey, curls. So you weren’t in school today. Maybe it’s my fault that I don’t know where you live. I probably should have asked where you lived, or even offered to come to your place rather than us always going to mine. This clearly makes me a bad girlfriend. I do hope you’re okay though and I missed you in class. You didn’t miss much. Lunch was pretty much the same, but I didn’t have you there with me, to chill with and make fun of the bullies that seemed to be growing each day. It’s weird how bullies can make friends, don’t you think? Why couldn’t they bully each other? Wimps are what they are right? I’m not used to writing letters, and I don’t know where to send this one from. Hopefully though you come back tomorrow and I can give it to you! Be cute, if we wrote each other letters right? 

Love you.

See you tomorrow, 

Yours always, Y/N.

Day 15

Hey you. So. Where are you, Curls? It’s been fifteen days since I’ve last seen you. No one knows where you are, no one is telling me anything! You can’t have just vanished right? I keep checking the news thinking maybe someone has taken you, but after seeing what you did with father, I don’t think anyone could just take you off the street. So what happened? I don’t even know why I’m asking in these letters that I’ve written, they’re just being placed in a box hoping that when I do see you next, you could read them and answer the question that I have asked! I miss you, Nat. I’m starting to think going to school is just me hoping I’d see you outside the gates where you usually wait for me to show up. I’m starting to forget what you looked like. We should have totally taken pictures together. So I have at least something to remember that you were here. 

Maybe tomorrow I’ll see you.

Love you always.

Yours forever, Y/N.

Day 30

Hey. So. I’m not where I used to live. I left my father, and I think you should be proud of me for that. If you even knew about it of course. I’m just writing these letters now I guess to keep my own sanity. I miss you, Natasha. I don’t know what happened to you, and I keep having nightmares of something bad happening to you. Why haven’t you tried to get a hold of me? To let me know that you’re okay? We have our own secret spots you know? I’m tired, so I’ll write you a letter another time. Take care of yourself. Bye.

Love you.

Day 55

It’s our anniversary. 

Natasha couldn’t get through all of your letters. As much as Wanda wanted her to, she just couldn’t. She could see the pen was wobbly as you continued to write them, could see that you barely said anything anymore in the letters. Usually it was just a ‘hi’ or you just wrote out ‘i love you’ but that was it. You told her that you got a job in one of them, telling her how much you hated it, people groping you as you walked past them. You talked about how cold your place was, and that you thought Natasha would hate it, and would try to put some color in it. Never once did you mention your illness in these letters. You wouldn’t even let her know in the letters? Natasha’s eyes met Wanda’s, as she was sitting across from her, reading the letters that Natasha had finished with. “Why did you want me to read these? It doesn’t give me anything.” Natasha says and Wanda was sighing, before bringing the box closer to her, so she could go through the letters and pull one out, to hand over to Natasha. 

“If you don’t want to read all of them then fine. But read this one. And then tell me you still want to help her.” Wanda says which has Natasha frowning. Why wouldn’t she want to help you? What could you possibly have written that would have her not wanting to continue to save you? Her hands weren’t shaky as she took the letter from Wanda, though on the inside she was definitely shaking. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she opened up the letter. This one didn’t even have a date on it.

Dear Natasha.

Hey you. I know now that these letters aren’t getting to you, but on the off chance that maybe one day they will find you, or perhaps we find each other, I need to say a few things. Don’t save me, Natasha. I know you’d want to, and I understand where you’re coming from. I’d want to do everything in my power to save you. But if you asked me not to, if you were completely done with your life and just wanted to move on. Then I’d accept it. I’d hate it but I’d accept it. I’m done, Curls. I can’t. I can’t keep going like this. I may never see you again, and I feel like if I did get the chance to see you… I know what the ending is going to be like. Even if you could save me. At the end of the day, I’d just die on you anyway. 

You have to let me go, Natasha. This is my wish. Please. 

Natasha once she finished reading that letter, she placed it on the table and shook her head. You didn’t even know if you’d see her again. How could you possibly ask this of her? Why would you ask this of her? How is this fair on Natasha? Didn’t she deserve to try and save you? To have the future you had talked about with her moments before? Didn’t you both deserve a chance? “She’s scared, Nat.” Wanda whispers, which has emerald hue snapping to the other redhead. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. “I get that she’s scared. She’s dying, she has every right to be scared.” Natasha says, and it was Wanda’s turn to shake her head while she leaned on the table, a hand reaching to take Natasha’s in hers. “She’s not scared now. She’s scared for the future. If she survives through this, she’s going to wonder when the next time is coming. To Y/N. She thinks of this as her final destination. And if you find a way to save her, and find a loop. She’s going to think for the rest of her life that death is just now waiting around the corner.” Wanda explains to the ex assassin, hoping she would understand.

“I don’t care. I’d protect her from it, Wanda. I get that she’s been going through this by herself, but I’m here now, and I’m not about to let her die, or go through this alone.” Natasha says, and perhaps she should let you go, if that’s what you want, but Natasha didn’t think that’s what you really wanted. You wanted it now, because you are tired, and you just want this to end, but there was no way that she would let this end, not while she was here. She stood now, and Wanda watched her with a crease between her brow. She couldn’t figure out what she was doing, but she moved with Natasha, watching her going into the medbay where Bruce and Cho were. “I need your help.” Natasha says to the both of them, as she sat down on one of the beds looking at the both of them.

“Nat.” Wanda says, only to close her mouth when Natasha held up her hand, silencing her. Wanda knew not to get in the way when Natasha was on a mission. She was scary without a mission, she was terrifying with one. “Are you hurt?” Bruce asks Natasha who shook her head. “I have a friend, who’s sick, who’s dying. And I need your help to make sure that doesn’t happen.” She says as her eyes flick between Bruce and Cho, hoping they were taking this seriously. “What’s their condition?” Bruce asks, and Wanda watches as Natasha tenses at the question. She knew this was hard on the ex assassin, but she wasn’t sure if she should be doing this without at least talking to you first, considering Wanda knew your thoughts on this. “Her heart is failing her.” Natasha says to them, her eyes still flickering between the two. “She’ll have to go on a waiting list for a new heart.” Cho says before Natasha was shaking her head. “She doesn’t have a lot of time. Look I came to the both of you, because I know you’re the smartest doctors I know. So I’m sure you could come up with something for her. She’s here in the compound. So if you’d want to run some tests, or anything, I’ll go get her.”

Wanda heard these words and she couldn’t help but feel the anger slowly boiling in her veins. Natasha just offered you up as a test subject without even thinking about what you might want. She watches as Natasha leaves the medbay, and she follows suit, taking Natasha by the elbow. She leads her into Natasha’s room, because she also wanted to make sure you were okay. “You just offered Y/N up like she’s some sort of lab rat.” Wanda hisses under her breath, not wanting to wake you up. “It’s for her own good, Wanda. I know that she wants to do this her way, but I’m not going to let her go. I can’t let her go. She’s not the only one who lost someone that day, she’s not the only one who wants someone.” Natasha whispers, her voice cracking as much as she didn’t want it to, but she couldn’t help it.

“Don’t you think you should talk to her first? Before making these types of decisions for her? She has a right to put her say in this.” Wanda whispers, trying to get some sense into Natasha. “She made her right very clear, and it goes against what I’m trying to do for her.” Natasha whispers, before both of them tense up when a shaky groan escapes your lips. “I can’t hear what you’re saying, but I can hear you saying something.” You mumble out to the both of them, which had them walk closer to Natasha’s bed. “Natasha has decided to make you a lab rat.” Wanda says, not even thinking about sugar coating it. To her you had a right to know what Natasha was doing.

“A lab rat for what?” You ask as you slowly try to wake yourself up. You have a feeling you were way too tired to have this conversation right now. “To help you. I talked to Cho and Bruce to see if there is any way that I can help you get better.” Natasha says softly, as her hand pushes some of your hair off your face. “Why? I don’t. I’ve come to terms with what is happening with me, Natasha. I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to do in my life. I have nothing else.” You say, as you watch Natasha shaking her head, you look to Wanda, asking in your mind if she could give you and Natasha a moment. You watch as she nods her head before leaving the room and then your attention goes back to Natasha.

“No. No. You don’t get to want to see me, and say that you’ve done everything in your life. When we haven’t even….” Her words trail off, and you were quick to sit up and pull her into your arms. “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was for you to go through this with me, Natasha. I want to be here with you, I do. But I’ve accepted that I can’t. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Curls. What happens if they can’t help me?” You ask her as your hand runs through her hair and then down her back. “I have to try. Can’t you just let me do that? Can’t you just help me try?” She whispers into your neck, breathing you in deeply. Your heart broke hearing her words, your breathing coming out shaky.

“I could never say no to you.” You whisper softly, your lips pressing to her hair, and you take a deep breath in, making you relax in her arms. “So you’ll do it? You’ll let them?” She asks, as she pulls back from you, though her arms still stay around you, doing her best to help you stay up right. “Yes. For you I’ll let them try.” You whisper, and your eyes close when you felt her lips on your forehead. “They can do the tests here, if you don’t like medbays.” She murmurs against your skin making you shiver and hold onto her tighter. “As long as you’re with me, I think I’ll be okay. When do they want to start?” You ask her, before Bruce was walking into the room now, making you both pull apart from each other.  “Now would be a good start.”

[itsdanii]

can i req the iwa, atsumu, and suna being in a secret relationship w the reader and the reader gets insecure bc they wanna keep it a secret? w comfort after plspls

Hey, bubs! Of course, you can request ♥️ Unfortunately, I'm only taking 1-2 characters per request so I canceled Iwaizumi from the list. Also, this is only Atsumu's part. Don't worry, I'm still going to do Suna's part, however, it will be uploaded tomorrow instead of today. I hope you enjoy it! Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! ♥️

Secret Relationship

genre: semi-angst to fluff, comfort

warning/s: self doubt and insecurity, descriptions of anxiety, do message me if i missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. atsumu miya

maybe keeping your relationship wasn't the best decision after all

Atsumu Miya

You and Atsumu have been in a relationship for 2 years now

With the rising popularity of Atsumu, not only throughout Inarizaki but to the other schools as well, he decided on keeping your relationship a secret

Though you respected Atsumu's choice, it can't be helped that sometimes your emotions got the best of you

Random girls would always approach your boyfriend. They were basically anywhere, everywhere - at school, during practice matches, and even when you were both trying to have a simple date on a nearby cafe

You tried to confront Atsumu about it once but you only ended up fighting, him saying that there was nothing to worry for because you were the only person he loved

So despite the heavy feeling of insecurity looming over you, you tried to understand his side which eventually caused the both of you to make up

You tried to ignore the insecurity and put your trust on Atsumu

But maybe sometimes, trust isn't just enough

"Y/n, someone's looking for you."

You lifted your gaze from the book you were reading, eyes snapping towards the direction of the door where two unfamiliar students were currently standing and waiting for you.

Even without having the need to hear what they needed you for, you instantly knew why they're here. For the past weeks, after Inarizaki's defeat against Karasuno, you've been bombarded by several girls, holding chocolates and teddy bears in hand, asking you to deliver them to Atsumu since they were afraid of giving it to him directly. So, as his "bestfriend," they wanted you to give it to him instead.

And although you wanted to be mad and scream at them to stop, you couldn't just do that. It would be wrong for you to snap at them since nobody, aside from Suna and Osamu, knew about you and Atsumu's relationship.

Sighing loudly, you shut the book you were reading and went over to the two girls with a semi-forced smile. "For 'Tsumu?" you asked, taking the paperbag from them and taking a peek of what's inside.

One of the girls nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling as she fanned her face with her hands. "Yes, please! I really really like Atsumu and the way he played from the previous match was so splendid! With every spike, I can't help but fall in love even more!"

You could only chuckle at what she said because even though there was a feeling of jealousy inside of you, you wouldn't be able to deny that what she said was true. You loved how he was able to inspire other people through sports and you couldn't be more proud of being his s/o.

"Please hand this letter to Atsumu, senpai!" the other girl said, bowing down as she handed you a letter.

You reluctantly took the envelope from her, your body becoming stiff as you muttered a small "Okay."

"I put all my feelings and support in that letter so I'd really appreciate if you handed it to him," she said with a smile.

Just how were you supposed to tell these girls to stop giving you stuff and ordering you to hand them over to your boyfriend? You weren't the type of person who would hinder others to relay their feelings. In fact, it wasn't your job to blatantly tell them to give up. It was Atsumu's responsibility, not yours.

But it wasn't your obligation to be their messenger as well.

Torn between two sides, you decided on maintaining a polite smile, giving the two juniors a pat on the head before nodding. "I'll make sure to deliver these to him, okay? Now, go back to your classroom and study well."

The two girls glanced at each other, eyes sparkling before smiling at you. "Thank you so much!" Turning around, the two went on their way, squealing slightly at their successful mission.

You, on the other hand, sighed and stared at the paperbag with a small frown. "Guess that's two more girls on the list," you mumbled before slipping back inside your classroom.

-

When the class ended, you immediately headed to the gym where you knew Atsumu was currently training. With the paperbag and 2 more boxes of chocolate given by some fangirls along the way, you entered the gym and placed the items down on the empty bench.

"That fer me, angel?" came Atsumu's voice from behind you.

Spinning around, you were met with a grinning Atsumu before getting engulfed with a warm hug. Sighing with your eyes closed, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, unconsciously gripping the back of his jersey. You couldn't help but bury your face more to his chest despite the slight sweat clinging to his clothes.

"Ya alright?" Atsumu murmured beside your ear, worry obviously evident on his tone as he slightly squeezed you.

As you were about to answer, someone from behind Atsumu cleared their throat. Your small moment was immediately cut off and Atsumu reeled back as if you were caught doing something wrong.

The comfort he brought awhile ago was instantly replaced by uncertainty and insecurity, making your heart throb as you bit your lower lip.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" Aran asked while shifting his gaze between you and Atsumu.

With a forced chuckle, Atsumu was quick to scratch the back of his head. "It's fine. I was just givin' y/n here a hug. They seem kinda down. Ya know, bestfriend duties."

Bestfriend.

"Ah.." Aran simply muttered with a slow nod. "Practice is almost done. Why don't ya sit down while we cool down and clean up?"

Sitting down on the bench, you looked at Aran with a small smile before nodding. "Okay," you said before turning your head to Atsumu's direction. His eyebrow was already raised as if asking you whether you were fine or not.

"I'm fine Atsumu. I'll wait for you here."

When the boys went back to the court, you were left alone to ponder with your thoughts. It felt as if the sounds around you suddenly died, your self doubts once again making its presence known.

You knew how much Atsumu loves you. In fact, he never failed to remind you everyday. Not once did he forgot to say it and express it through actions, or at least when you were both alone.

Everytime you were in school, he would deny your relationship. When people asked if you were his s/o, he would simply shake his head and claim you as his bestfriend. It really didn't bother you at first but as the time passed, you were slowly starting to question why he would do such thing.

Though he claimed that it was to avoid people from harassing you and picking on you, was it really? What if there was a deeper reason?

What if he was slowly getting tired of you? What if he didn't even liked you in the first place?

You anxiously tapped your foot on the floor at the thought. Gripping the hem of your hoodie, you stared at the gifts you brought from his fangirls. You knew that it was an act of invading someone's privacy but you couldn't help but reach for the letter given by your junior awhile ago.

You took a quick glance at the boys, checking if they were still cooling down, before opening the envelope slowly. As you read on the letter, you unconscious tapped your foot faster on the floor, your grip on the paper tightening as you let each words sink into you.

Bit by bit, you absorbed what was written on the paper, making the unpleasant feeling inside you deepen. You wouldn't deny that the letter was well written and you were certain that if it was handed to Atsumu by that girl personally, she might be able to get his attention.

After all, she was pretty. She looked like a bubbly person and someone who people would easily get along with. There was an optimistic aura around her which you knew Atsumu would appreciate.

And maybe if-

"Y/n."

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Atsumu's hand touching your shoulder.

Jolting up slightly, you looked up at him with wide eyes, immediately noticing the worried expression on his face. "Tsumu.." you mumbled with a shaky voice, your eyes glossing with tears as your lips trembled.

Atsumu was quick to sit down beside you. Lifting you up, he sat you down on his lap and nestled your face on the side of his neck, knowing how much you hated it when people see you crying.

"Y-your teammates," you mumbled against his skin, hiding your face even more as you tightened your grip on the letter you were holding, almost crumpling it.

"Let's worry about them later, alright, angel? Yer my priority and ya know that," he answered while rubbing your back, "Now, tell me what happened. Why are ya crying?"

With the overwhelming emotions surrounding you, it took you a few seconds before you could answer, and you were thankful that Atsumu was patient enough to wait instead of forcing you. "Do you really love me, Tsumu?"

You felt Atsumu stiffen at your question and for a biref moment, you were scared of hearing the answer.

Was this it? Was he really lying to you all this time?

"Look at me, angel," Atsumu said, slightly pulling away from his embrace to cup your cheeks in his hands. "Of course, I do. Where is this coming from? Did somebody-"

"No," you cut him off. "It's just that... you always tell people that we're nothing but bestfriends. I can't always have my moments with you because you want to hide our relationship. It didn't really matter at first but... because of your constant denial, your fangirls would keep sending me these random stuffs and ask me to give them to you. I'm scared, Tsumu. What if one day you get tired of me... or worse, what if it's me who gets tired? I don't like this set-up..."

"Y/n-"

"I want to be able to express my feelings. I want the people to know that you're mine. Why can't you show them that you love me, Tsumu?... Do you even love me?"

Atsumu was left speechless as he listened to your words. All he could do was rub your back soothingly while listening to you as you let everything out. As you did, the guilt inside of him kept on piling up, enough to make him clench his jaw at how disappointed he was at himself for making you cry.

"Of course, I do. I love ya so much, angel. Don't ever ferget that. I'm sorry fer not taking yer feelings in consideration. I didn't know that ya have been feeling this way fer quite a while now. I really thought that we were already fine after our first argument about this but.. I guess I should've paid more attention," Atsumu said while staring at you, his hands still cupping your cheeks to angle your face to him. "The reason why I wanted to hide our relationship was fer people not to bother ya. It wasn't my intention to make ya feel insecure. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, angel." Wiping your cheeks with his thumb, Atsumu leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. "Would it make ya feel better if we open our relationship to other people? No more hiding it."

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled. "Mhm, yes, please."

"Alright, if that's what ya want."

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

[miekasa]

random boyfriend eren hcs (modern/college au)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern/college au, himbo eren supremacy as per usual, but can you imagine eren, armin, and jean living together in one house bye

↯ notes: this is me once again trying out this headcanon format, also because i have lots of thoughts about eren (being normal) and going to college lmao

↯ more notes: sorry i have to repost this again tumblr is being dumb ://

Not a frat boy, but definitely lives by the mantra “work hard, party harder.”

Likes going out to frat parties and keggers first year, but calms down as time goes on. Sophomore year is more house parties and occasionally going downtown to clubs. By the time junior year rolls around tho, he and Jean are thee party hosts. Homecoming, Halloween, Pre-Thanksgiving break, you name it, those two have a reason to throw a party for it

But party doesn’t always mean absolute rager. Sometimes it’s just drinking with your friends, playing pong, and absolutely crushing Jean at uno. 

At parties with lots of other people, Eren really doesn’t let people fuck around with you, or any of his friends really. Once almost got into a fight because he watched a guy out his hands on yours and Mikasa’s waists to “move around you.” As if. 

Wears his key necklace around all the time, obviously. So he gives you a necklace with a lock on it, with both of your initials engraved on the back. 

Nobody really notices it at first, since the chains are long and the necklaces are you usually tucked inside your shirts. But one day, ever the observant one, Armin catches a glimpse of yours resting on top of your shirt. Cue squinted eyes looking back and forth between you and Eren before—eureka! “You and Eren have matching necklaces!!!”

Plays sports, not for a scholarship but just for fun. Gets very pouty when you can’t make it to his games; and gets extra pouty if you show up, but you’re not wearing his jersey.

On the flip side, gets very giddy when he sees you in the stands with his jersey on and very ostentatiously scoops you up into a hug after the game is over.

Literally does not know where the library is until you show it to him. Any of them. Help him.

The worst person to study with if he doesn’t have any actual work to do. Will bother you and prefer to gossip than to let you do your work in peace. If you need an actual study buddy, you should try Mikasa.

Drunkenly hits on you a lot. Scratch that, he hits on you regardless, drunk or sober, despite the fact that you’re literally dating him already.

Literally reserves at least two nights of the week to have dinner with Armin bye and you couldn’t even interrupt them if you tried.

Waits for you outside of your classroom if you’ve had an important presentation or something. Not always with anything cheesy or loud, but just to be able to cheer you on and congratulate you after.

Hates the act of going grocery shopping, but loves going with you. Also because you force him to buy things other than Anytizers and Kraft Mac and Cheese.

Steals your hair ties and scrunchies to put his hair up. Does not fucking give them back, and denies having them, even if they’re piling up on his wrist.

Will drive you anywhere and everywhere. He is your personal Uber. Even if you don’t want him to be, he would rather die than let you get into an actual Uber—and if it’s late at night? Forget it, Eren doesn’t care if you’re 45 mins away, he’ll come get you.

After you stabbed him with your pen for drawing in your notebook (with your very pristine notes), he started leaving sticky notes inside of them instead.

They’re all super random, usually incoherent, and sometimes just drawings, and you’d never tell him, but you keep every single one.

Cuts class a lot, but not to the point where he’s failing. Just when he feels like it’s deserved, you know? Like, if he attended lecture for a class all week, he deserved to skip Friday’s lecture. As a treat.

He’s embarrassing. Endearing, but so embarrassing. Like, singing in the middle of the street embarrassing. Asking you to do a TikTok in public embarrassing. Why do you even love him.

Moves off-campus during junior year and rooms with Jean and Armin in three-bedroom house. So, he’s never actually lonely, but he’s a little crybaby and will whine to get to you to come over.

LOVES sleeping over at your place, though. Because you live with Annie and Mikasa, so your place is always clean and always smells good. Plus Mikasa and Annie are usually busy, which means you get more privacy at your place.

Mikasa honestly just starts making breakfast for Eren in the mornings when he does sleep over, and Annie is so unfazed by his presence.

Jumps at the opportunity to join in on your girls wine-night or skincare-routine night. So what if it’s him and three other girls drinking red wine with face masks on and talking about Anne Hathaway movies while playing Monopoly Deal? It leaves him pleasantly buzzed and his skin is absolutely glowing, suck his dick, Connie.

Likely doesn’t understand a thing about your major/program but listens enthusiastically when you talk about it anyways.

His lock screen is the only selfie he’s ever convinced you to take with him. (That’s okay because he has many screenshots of your snaps for safekeeping and blackmailing).

Tries to get you to exercise with him. If you’re into that, then great. If you’re not, it’s okay, he always has time to stop and take a mid-workout thirst trap to send your way. Because he’s annoying like that.

Once accidentally replied to the whole class instead of just the professor on an email asking him to be a g and bump his 89.9 to a 90. Embarrassing. (The prof did raise in the end tho, so maybe he really does have some charm to him).

Has to wear reading glasses when studying for a long time/or at his computer for a long time, and even though he doesn’t like them, you think he looks super cute in them; so he wears them more often than usual. 

Calls you asking for the most obscure school supplies/stationary. “Babe, hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare 4x8 poster board laying around now would you?” 

Mind you this is at, like, 3am, 12 hours before the poster board in question is due. 

Speaking of stationary, is an absolute little shit and steals your good pens. He’s partial to the sparkly ones, if he’s being honest. They make his notes look better, fuck you, Jean. 

“Eren, give me back my purple 0.4mm pen.” “I don’t know what that is, sorry.” “Eren, I can see it in your hand!” 

Brings you snacks while you’re studying. If you’re really trying to crack down and be serious, he won’t even bother you. Just bring the snacks, bring you water and boba, kiss your little forehead and be on his way.

Has a polaroid camera he got as a birthday gift, and uses it to sneak pictures of you whenever you’re not looking. He keeps the good ones hung up on a sponge board in his room.

He has a few.... riskier ones too, but those are for his eyes only.

Loves to pick out your nail color when you get your nails done. Honestly gets a little pouty when you don’t ask him lmaoo

Purposely leaves his clothes around so you can wear them. Isn’t subtle about it in the slightest. Sometimes leaves them with a note: “Please wear this, you’d look cute as fuck. Thank you. —Management.”

(slightly nsfw below)

Is not too proud to ask you for risqué snaps. Not necessarily full nudes, thought he doesn’t object to those.

Will literally give you hickeys out of boredom. Will pull you onto his lap and start kissing your neck because he has nothing better to do. Also because it leads to sex 7/10 times. The other 3 times, it’s because he falls asleep with his head in your neck lmaoo

Might have once fucked you with one of his lectures playing in the background, but you’ll never tell.

He really likes phone sex. He’s shit at being quiet, so he can only really do it when Jean and Armin are out of the house, but there’s something about only being able to hear your moans to get off that really does it for him.

He’s kind of goofy and absentminded sometimes, so sometimes you’ll be mid-sex and he’ll look at you like “Hey, did you finish your assignment, it’s due tomorrow right?”

And honestly, you kinda wanna be upset, but then you start thinking—“Did I finish my assignment?” And then you realize you did and nod and he’s like “Ok, cool,” kisses your forehead and resumes where you left off.

[thrndlngs]

three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.

── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character.  also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties.  ♡ 

i.

     "'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters  ──  which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship. 

  “shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department. 

  “we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning. 

  “──stop talking, it’s distracting me.” 

  your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter. 

  “they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.

  “three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?

  “──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”

  “we haven’t played that since── “

  “yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.” 

  you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?

  “let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same. 

  it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.

  you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight  ──  but there wasn’t really much you could do.

  “two minutes.” 

   this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.

   “i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.

  “i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.

  “──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”

  “says the one whose sweating to death.” 

  “and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”

  “yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.” 

  he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.” 

  in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.” 

 “are you serious?” 

  “oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”

  “it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder. 

 “okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”

  “mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart. 

  “now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.

ii.

     “good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.

  “──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”

  “no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”

  “is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”  

  he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”

  “and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”

   this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours  ──  regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him. 

  as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight? 

  “d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.

  “only because you have food.” 

  he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different. 

  so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.

iii.

     “i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well  ──  these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often. 

  “you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating. 

  “──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.

  “because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him  ──  he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.

  “if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”

  “a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.” 

  “don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you  ──  

  you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.

  if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you  ──  stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him. 

  yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it? 

  but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it  ── despite the ache in his chest.

  iv.

     "we did it.” shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.

  “pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different. 

  “try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.

  “make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should. 

  he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.” 

  “it better stay that way ‘toshi.” 

  he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none. 

 he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.

  “──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?

  he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you. 

  you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.

  “you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.” 

  you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”

[chilligyu]

info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

[weasleylangs]

if you don’t know, let me go - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Summary: It’s always seemed like they’ve been dancing the line between friends and more, so why does he take a different girl to the ball? Warnings: Some swearing, pining that one character is too much of a dummy to see, a bit of angst but it eventually becomes fluff I promise, jealousy but nothing toxic, underage drinking but it’s like one line. Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: This is my first fanfiction in literally forever, so any feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open if you like this and want more! Also this got stupidly long fast, I can barely write book reviews on Goodreads without writing a novel so my bad, I’m sorry if you don’t like long fics. (Also cross-posted on AO3 as the tumblr tags don’t seem to be my friend right now.) 

- Also, thank you so much to @lumosandnoxwriting for answering all my questions on how to get back into writing!

Send me an ask or a dm if you would like to be added to a tag list!

---------------------------------------------------

“Do you think he’s going to ask you?” 

It’s Wednesday afternoon, late enough for class to be over but too early for dinner and Y/N’s attempt at understanding anything in her potions textbook is broken by Alicia Spinnet talking to her. Despite the fact she hadn’t said a name, Y/N knows immediately who she was talking about and she shrugs in response, closing her book and accepting that studying was not on the table for the rest of the night now the ball has been mentioned. 

“Probably not.” She deadpans. Y/N’s been trying not to get her hopes up that Fred would ask her to the Yule Ball since it was announced three days ago. Alicia’s already been asked by George- who immediately did a dramatic reenactment of some muggle proposal he’d seen in a movie as soon as Dumbledore announced it. But Fred had been more reluctant to ask anyone, despite people’s assumption that he could get anyone he pleased. Y/N only hoped this was because he was too shy of taking whatever they were from friends to lovers.

No one really understood how the outspoken and mischievous redhead became friends with the snarky Slytherin girl, but 6 years into their schooling people have stopped questioning it. They had formed an unexplainable bond the second they met on the train to Hogwarts when they were eleven years old that may have included both shouting at blood purists and now it seems to have evolved into something beyond just a friendship. 

Lingering stares, soft touches, the fact neither of them had really dated anyone else because they were too caught up with each other. Everyone, including their friends, have all placed bets on how long it’ll take for the two of them to ‘fess up and finally get together.

“What makes you say that?” Alicia asks, genuinely. She’s heard first hand the teasing George and Lee give Fred over his feelings for Y/N in the Gryffindor common room when they think they’re alone so she finds it hard to believe he hasn’t even hinted at them going together yet. 

Y/N shrugs. “I just think if he wanted to go with me, he’d ask me by now… Y’know?” Alicia can’t really deny her logic. Fred’s never been the one to shy away from being outspoken about anything really in the whole six years she’s known him, so even she can admit it’s weird that Fred hasn’t asked her.

“Maybe he just assumes you guys are going together?” Alicia starts, and before Y/N can argue back, she holds up a hand, “I’ll ask him after dinner tonight. I can guarantee Lee or George will join in and you’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!” Y/N shakes her head and laughs, and starts packing her things, mumbling about Alicia is a meddler and that she’ll see her later.

-

Y/N’s walking to the Great Hall for dinner when it happens. Adrian Pucey, star quidditch chaser for the Slytherin team slinks up next to her and scares her enough to almost drop the books she has clutched in her hands. She’s never had a problem with Adrian- their parents are in similar friendship circles so she sees him at family friend events outside of school, but she’s never considered him a friend either, which is why his approach to her is so odd.

“Sorry about that,” he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as Y/N clutches her chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” she starts, “You’re just very quiet. I’m used to being almost tackled to the ground when I see friends.” She laughs, but she doesn’t miss the awkward tension in the air and she can’t help but assume what’s coming next. 

“I just wanted to ask if, uh, if you don’t have a date to the ball… If you’d like to go with me?” 

Y/N gulps. She knows she shouldn’t be putting all her eggs in the Fred Weasley marked basket, but she can’t help but remember her conversation with Alicia only an hour ago.

‘You’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!’

Adrian senses her hesitation and lets out a breath that sounds like he’s almost laughing. “You’re waiting for one of Weasley twins to ask you, aren’t you? Fred, right?” She hates how easily he caught on.

“Adrian, I- Ugh, I’m sorry. But yeah… I am.” She feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at someone she’s not even friends with pointing it out. She can’t help but think maybe this is a sign though, that if everyone else is expecting it, why hasn’t he asked her yet? 

“No, it’s all good. But the offers on the table if he’s too pussy to ask you out.” He gives a kind smile as he walks off to catch up with Marcus Flint who’s drilling Malfoy about quidditch plays.

She exhales slowly and finally makes it to the Great Hall. She scans the tables looking for her closest friend in Slytherin- Daphne Greengrass and once she finds her, she quickly makes her way over to her. Dinner is relatively uneventful since she’s sitting with her house, and George manages to catch her eye at one point and mouths ‘miss you’ to which she laughs and says she misses him back.

She’s about to get up and leave when the last thing she expects to happen, happens. She hears Ron exclaim loudly that Fred can’t make fun of him for not having a date because he doesn’t have one either. Y/N feels her heart start to race, knowing if anyone’s going to prove a point to Ron, it’ll be Fred Weasley. She doesn’t hear what Fred’s reply is but Harry and Ron both scoff, and one of them says ‘ask a girl out if it’s so easy then.’ 

Y/N’s about to approach the Gryffindor table when George’s eye catches her, and he shakes his head. Fred has already thrown a scrunched-up piece of paper at Angelina and her heart sinks. 

“Angelina! Will you go to the ball with me?” 

As Angelina laughs and says yes to Fred, it feels like the whole Great Hall is either watching their altercation or watching Y/N in pity. Her heart now feels like it’s in her throat, and she needs to get out of the room before she cries or yells at Fred. She pivots on her heel and is met face-to-face with Daphne, who nods in silent agreement that they’re going back to their dorm. 

Y/N is halfway down the long tables with the door in her sights when she spots Adrian out of the peripheral of her eye. She can tell he’s looking at her in pity and in a weird way, she feels the need to show defiance against Fred Weasley. She needs to show she doesn’t need pity, especially right now, that she can get a date herself. So she stops in front of the Slytherin quidditch team and slightly smirks. 

“That offer to the ball still on the table?” 

-

Daphne spends the night taking Y/N’s mind off the Weasley family. They sit in their dorm together, once again trying to study for potions which eventually leads into ball talk yet again. Daphne can tell the idea of going to the ball with anyone who isn't Fred is unnerving for Y/N, but there’s no backing down now.

“That was kind of a badass move, y’know?” She starts, treading lightly as they eventually reach the elephant in the room, ‘Asking Adrian after what happened.”

It doesn’t feel badass to Y/N. She feels like she’s cheating on the redhead that owns her heart, but she knows that’s ridiculous. Fred clearly has no form of feelings for her and she’s decided to get over him. 

“It’s nothing…” She starts and she sees Daphne’s eyebrows raise. They’ve been roommates every year since they started school together so they’re both aware this is a big lie. “I didn’t want to go alone. Everyone else had dates already and Adrian’s nice. Plus, he did ask me before…”

Daphne nods, not wanting to press further. “Have you got a dress yet?” It had said on their packing list for the school year to bring a dress or dress robes so everyone’s already well prepared. Y/N nods and walks towards the closet before pulling out a floor-length silver gown with lace detailing. She smiles shyly as Daphne gasps in awe. 

“Eat your heart out, Fred Weasley!” For the first time all night, Y/N laughs. She knows she’s going to look stunning in the dress and while she has no ill resentment towards Angelina for agreeing to go with Fred, she can’t help but feel a little bit coy knowing Fred’s going to see her in it. 

- 

She’s sitting at her desk in Transfiguration the next day when he finally acknowledges her presence. She’s twiddling her quill in her fingers, dreading the moment the troublemaker waltzes into the class. His usual seat is the one next to her, while George and Lee sit in front of them but she can only hope Alicia takes the hint and sits with her before Fred does.

She doesn’t get her wish. She’s about two seconds away from dozing off when the seat screeches against the hardwood flooring below them and she looks to her left to see Fred smirking.

“Hi love,'' he starts, the nickname not feeling out of ordinary, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” He says, and it’s true. He hadn’t seen her since class yesterday. He had looked for her before dinner to tell her about the prank he’d pulled on Filch with George while she was studying and he’d barely seen her during dinner. 

Her heart starts to speed up at the nickname, and she forces down the bile she feels growing in her throat. “Yeah, I just ate dinner and went to bed yesterday. Been studying for potions. Sixth year is hard.” She’s trying to be short and sweet and maybe a little blunt but Fred doesn’t pick up on it. “Heard you asked Angelina to the ball too.” She’s hoping to whoever’s listening to her prayers that the jealousy isn’t evident in her voice and by the dopey smile that grows on Fred’s face, her prayers were answered.

“Yeah! Ron was being such a prat, telling me I couldn’t make fun of him for…” But she drowns his voice out. It might be a bitch move, but she really doesn’t need to hear the who, where, when and why he asked Angelina out. It’s clear to Y/N that Fred didn’t even notice her existence at dinner and that stings more than she’d like to admit. 

She can barely concentrate during class. Fred has never really shown to care about any academic success, so he spends the entire period trying to entertain Y/N and get her to speak to him but she’s being stubborn and Fred can’t help but wonder what he did wrong. He starts to think maybe she’s just had a bad day, but when the bell rings and she storms off without even saying goodbye to him he’s dumbfounded.

“Trouble in paradise, brother?” George teases when he sees the frown adorned on Fred’s face. 

“Have I done anything to upset Y/N?” He questions and he sees the way George and Lee both give each other a look. They know something he doesn’t and that leaves a feeling of uneasiness in his chest. Y/N and himself have always been closer than her and George and especially her and Lee. He was there for her when her parents were fighting constantly when she was 11 and when Marcus Flint started bullying her in 3rd year. He was even there when she cried to him last year about the guy she loved and how he was so stupidly blind to her feelings and while she didn’t give a name, Fred was dying to go punch whoever it was for not realising he had his best friend’s heart.

“If you have, it’s not up for us to tell you, mate.” Lee states and he hides behind George when he notices the scowl on Fred’s face. Lee knows better than to get between him and Y/N, but he isn’t wrong. 

“Look, Alicia said she was fine when they left the library yesterday evening,” George starts, and he knows he shouldn’t be lying to his brother and best friend, but it’s not a huge lie, and maybe it’ll push his oblivious brother to realise what he did to upset his best friend, “She was at dinner last night when you asked Angie to the ball and then she went to her dorm with Daphne. Heard something about her saying yes to Adrian Pucey asking her to the ball…” While George made extra emphasis on the fact Y/N witnessed Fred asking Angelina to the ball, Fred’s eyes glaze over in rage when George mentions Adrian and he has a feeling his twin has got the wrong idea.

“I bet Adrian did something to her. Fuck him, honestly.” And before George and Lee can stop him, Fred’s stalking out of the classroom with Adrian Pucey in his sights.

- 

Fred doesn’t find Adrian until later that afternoon, standing on the pitch and clad in his quidditch robes, yelling at someone who Fred assumes is Montague. He thinks now is probably a bad time to confront him, but he's blinded by the thought that he’s hurt Y/N. 

“Pucey!” He shouts and when Adrian turns around, he chuckles and smirks at Fred. He was expected this later rather than sooner, specifically during dinner, but he guesses now will have to do. 

“What?” He asks, but they both know why he’s here and he’s just enjoying riling Fred up. 

“What did you do Y/N?” Adrian scoffs at this and shakes his head which confuses Fred. “What did I do to Y/N?” Fred stands his ground, chest puffed up. Adrian might be a fair bit shorter than Fred but Adrian hasn’t got anything to be scared of. Sure he’s seen Fred throw a punch or two and he’s definitely been on the receiving end of a bludger from the Weasley during a game, but he knows he isn’t the one that hurt Y/N here. 

“I think you should be asking yourself that, mate. Y/N only agreed to going to the ball with me after you asked Angelina out right in front of her.” This causes Fred to look at Adrian in confusion and Adrian laughs at Fred again. He’s confused, why would asking Angelina out hurt Y/N? 

It turns out he said that out loud, because two seconds later Adrian is responding to him, “Because she was expecting you to ask her, Weasley.” 

Adrian doesn’t even wait for Fred’s reply before stalking off to the Slytherin change rooms and Fred’s left standing on the pitch, wondering why the ache in his chest is almost debilitating at the thought of hurting Y/N and questioning why he feels the need to throw up knowing she’s happily going with Adrian Pucey. 

-

Fred’s next port of call is finding Y/N. After his talk with Adrian, he needs to find out why she expected him to ask her to the ball. He would’ve happily gone with her, but to Fred, she hadn’t even dropped a single hint at wanting to go with him and when she’s finally located, she’s in the library with Daphne. 

“This is my exit cue,” Daphne mutters as she notices the redhead roaming around the library looking for Y/N. She doesn’t even have a moment to question Daphne before the seat in front of her is suddenly occupied by the last person she was hoping to see again.

“Why are you going with Pucey?” Is the first thing that leaves Fred’s mouth, and it wasn’t what Y/N was expecting. She splutters, only for a few seconds, before eventually replying.

“He asked me.” 

Fred’s eyebrows furrow, but didn’t Pucey say she wanted to go with him? “A little birdie said you wanted to go with me. So, how come you’re going with him.”

Now Y/N scoffs and Fred can’t help but notice how many people are scoffing at him today just for asking questions and it’s getting annoying. “You didn’t ask me. He did. So, I said yes. Don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” She’s intentionally being short, hopefully not spilling anything about her feelings for the boy in front of her. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to go with me, Y/N. How was I supposed to know?” At this, Y/N goes from feeling hurt to angry and she can’t explain why her hands start to shake. 

“How were you supposed to know?” She exclaims loudly which causes her to receive a rather nasty ‘sh’ from Madam Pince and a few O.W.L students surrounding her. 

“Have you seen the way we act around each other Fred?” She’s now whisper yelling and the confused look on Fred’s face as she says this just aggravates her further and she’s convinced no one is this daft and he’s pushing her buttons on purpose. “Because everyone thinks we’re fucking dating already, Fred. You have to constantly be touching me, we’re always together, you call me darling and love and you kiss me on the forehead when I fucking bring you sugar quills from Hogsmeade because they’re your favourite and whenever you have spare money you always buy me Honeydukes chocolate because you said you like seeing me blush when you buy me things. You’re telling me now that we’re just friends?”

If the ache in Fred’s chest was almost debilitating on the quidditch pitch earlier, right now it feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Her cheeks are flushed, her fists are clenched, pieces of her hair are falling out of her bun that’s resting on top of her head and, worst of all, Fred’s noticed the tears of anger and frustration pooling in her eyes.

She sighs before continuing, trying to compose herself so he doesn’t see her crying over him, unaware he’s already noticed the tears threatening to fall. Her voice is sad and broken, and it feels like the ending point for her. 

“I was just stupid enough to assume this year was the year we would finally admit we’re more than friends, Freddie. But I guess all this time it’s been one-sided. I hope you have a good time at the ball with Angelina.” 

Fred grabs her wrist as she starts to pack up her things and looks at her, scanning her face for any form of emotion. “Let me go, Fred.” She looks at him with pleading eyes and he lets go of the grasp he has on her wrist.

Fred doesn’t try to stop her again as she hastily packs up her things and he sadly watches her leave the library without turning to look at him. 

-

Y/N doesn’t care if it’s considered dramatic, but she lays in bed and cries for the rest of the day. While she hasn’t gone through a literal break-up, it feels like her friendship with Fred is over. At least, she’s decided, it’s over until she gets over her feelings for him. 

Daphne tries everything in her power to comfort her. She rubs her back, plays with her hair and even puts on ABBA to try and get Y/N to dance just to cheer her up. Y/N feels horrible she’s basically conned Daphne into babysitting her breakdown but Daphne constantly reassures her it’s okay. 

“Do you want me to go beat him up? I might be short and weak and he’s the size of a tree but I could take him.” Y/N sniffles a laugh at this, and smiles. She’s truly grateful for everything Daphne’s been doing for her and she makes a mental note to get her an extra special Christmas present next time she goes to Hogsmeade. 

However, it turns out essentially ending the friendship with Fred ends her friendships with most of the Gryffindors. She was expecting this, but when George can’t even meet her eye in class her heart breaks into even smaller pieces. George has always been like a brother to her, someone she could tell anything too without worry of being judged. He was the first person she told when she realised she liked Fred and Y/N was the first person, besides Fred, that George told his feelings for Alicia for. 

Y/N feels alone but she’s stubborn so she refuses to show it. She sits with Daphne in every class, essentially kicking poor Cassius Warrington who’s been pining after Daphne for 3 years into a different spot in class and she sometimes even sits with Adrian during lunch. It turns out they have a lot more in common than just the fact they’re in Slytherin and pure-bloods and Y/N’s pain in her chest is slowly but surely disappearing. 

While her feelings for Fred still exist, her heart slowly feels like it’s being mended. It’s only when she spots Fred sulking during lunch one day that the ache returns. She was usually the one who he went too when feeling bad- him being too embarrassed to go to George. She hopes he’s okay, but she shakes the idea of approaching him, knowing he’s got Angelina to keep him company. The pang in her chest stays a little bit longer that day. 

-

The Yule Ball arrives quicker than expected and Y/N and Daphne spend all day getting ready with a bunch of other Slytherin students. It’s nice, while they don’t all usually get along, the house loyalty between them is unmistakable. 

Most of them are acutely aware of Y/N’s ‘Weasley Situation’ and while some of them give her pity looks, most of the younger girls have expressed their jealousy that she’s going with Adrian. This makes her laugh and shake her head and she often replies that boys aren’t all that and no boy is worth being jealous over. She feels like a wise mother almost, never wanting them to feel the way she’s felt the past few weeks.

Daphne and Y/N arrive at the Great Hall together, giggling about how bad Y/N is at walking in heels and placing bets on how quick they’re going to come off. While Daphne is counting her galleons in her purse to confirm the bet, Y/N catches a glimpse of Fred and Angelina. He looks so handsome, his dress robes a mixture of gold and black and she can’t help but think how well they’d go together. But when she looks at Angelina she feels like she’s going to pass out.

Angelina is stunning, and there’s no doubt about it. She’s in a floor-length dark purple gown that compliments her skin perfectly and Y/N thinks if Fred was going with anyone to the ball, she’s glad it’s Angelina. 

Cassius and Adrian soon appear by the girls and take their arms into the Great Hall that’s been transformed to look like a winter wonderland. The roof tonight is bewitched to look like a winter, snowy day and Y/N can’t help but admire it. She’s grown up with magic her entire life, but she can’t help but constantly be amazed.

Adrian pulls a flask out of his dress robes jacket which makes Y/N snort and he smiles happily at her. Of course he snuck Firewhiskey into the Ball. The action reminds her of something Fred would do and she shakes her head, trying to get the boy out of her mind, tonight of all nights.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” Adrian states as he takes a swig of the flask, and she feels her cheeks heat up. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t scrub up so badly either, Pucey.” 

“A dance, m’lady?” He jokingly bows to Y/N and she smiles while she takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. As Adrian twirls Y/N around the dance floor, albeit messily because neither of them paid attention in dance classes held by Snape of all people, she forgets about the redhead who’s stare is burning holes into the back of her head.

“You’re a shit date, y’know.” Angelina laughs and Fred’s broken out of his trance. “Shit, Angie, I’m so sorry.” 

Angelina isn’t wrong. She’s a smart girl, and she’s well aware of Fred’s longing stares towards the Slytherin girl. “Did you know? That you wanted to go with her?” Angelina questions, out of sheer curiosity. Even she was shocked when Fred asked her, but she was too dumbfounded when he asked and with everyone watching at dinner, the pressure to say yes was immense but it was not worth all the pain and heartache she’s watched her two friends go through. 

“At the time? No, definitely not. She’s…” He trails off as he tries to find the right words, “She’s always been there, y’know? I just assumed she’d be in my life forever and what we had was what we’d always be… It felt normal, like I didn’t feel the way I feel about her with you, or Katie or Alicia but it felt like that’s how you’re meant to feel about your girl best friend?” 

He looks over at them again, and the gross feeling of jealousy rises in his throat. “But then she said yes to Pucey, and all I can think about is how no one should be holding her but me and that he'll walk her all the way back to her dorm tonight and probably kiss her and I feel like throwing up, and...” He pauses and looks at Angelina and the pity in her eyes is obvious. “And you don’t think about your best friend like this.” 

Angelina watches in pity as Fred clearly drowns his sorrows in pumpkin juice and she drags him onto the dance floor. She’s not letting Fred have a bad night and she refuses to have one as well. Fred is one of her best friends, and even though she might not be the girl he wishes he was here with, she’s determined to cheer him up somehow. 

Fred finally starts to have a good time when he spots George slyly leading Alicia out of the Great Hall and he loudly wolf whistles causing a red hue to form on both their cheeks and George to flip Fred the bird as they leave. Angelina spots Y/N grab her purse across the room while Fred’s distracted and she quietly leaves just after George and Alicia.

Alone.

“Y/N just left, Fred. Alone.” Fred’s confused why Angelina is telling him this when he looks over at Daphne and Adrian, who both look at him like ‘Go you fucking idiot’ and before he can even mutter a goodbye to his friends, he’s out the door almost as fast as George was.

-

He finds Y/N sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s looking up at the stars and Fred stars to recall last summer when she visited The Burrow. She spent all night trying to point out constellations to Fred and as he watches her mutter to herself, Fred wonders how he didn’t realise that they were in love this entire time.

He clears his throat, careful not to startle Y/N and when she turns Fred can see the hesitation in her face as she quickly goes to jump up and leave. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen the prime make-out spot of the night.” She awkwardly laughs but then quickly realises Fred is alone. “Nevermind… Where’s Angelina?” 

Fred shrugs, and sits down on the bench she was sitting on originally. Y/N stands awkwardly before sitting down next to him. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s missed being close to him. The warmth that radiates off him despite it being the middle of winter causes her to shuffle just that slightly bit closer to him and Fred can’t help but smile. 

“You look beautiful tonight. I know Adrian probably told you already, at least I hope he did, but you deserve to know.” Fred could feel himself rambling and he doesn’t miss the blush that rises across Y/N’s neck and cheeks. It’s the exact same blush that appears whenever he buys her chocolates and his heart soars. 

“Thanks Freddie,” the nickname feels foreign on her tongue, “you look pretty handsome yourself. I hope Angelina told you.” She retaliates and Fred hates it. He hates the awkwardness between them. He wants nothing more to wrap his arms around her and hold her close but they feel like strangers. 

“Thanks,” he laughs and Y/N looks at him confused. “Did you have a good night?”

“Can we not have this awkward small talk? I’m sure Angelina’s waiting for you somewhere.” Fred’s taken aback by her abruptness and stares at her for a few seconds. “What?” She asks when she notices Fred looking at her like she has nine heads.

“Angelina’s not waiting for me. Is Adrian waiting for you?” He asks but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He’s gone through a rollercoaster of emotions these past few weeks and he truly doesn’t want to know if another man is waiting for her to sweep her off her feet and walk back to the Slytherin common room. But when she shakes her head, Fred lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. 

“I need to apologise.” He blurts out and Fred wants to smack himself in the head. This was not the romantic moment he had envisioned in his head as he followed her outside into the courtyard. “I need to apologise for a lot of things. Mostly, for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am, and also for not asking you to the ball and for ruining our friend-” 

“You didn’t ruin our friendship.” She cuts him off but she doesn’t know what else to say. “You didn’t. I did, if anything.” Fred has to stop himself from starting an argument on who ruined the friendship but he wants to backtrack. Did Y/N just ignore him confessing his love to her? 

“Well, I’m still sorry for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am?” He tries again sheepishly and Y/N gives him a double-take. She heard him the first time but she was convinced it was just her ears playing tricks on her or Fred being a menace. After all, this is Fred Weasley in front of her, he’s always looking for a joke and as she’s about to accuse him of pulling a sick, twisted prank on her, she looks at him properly.

And he’s looking as serious as he did the day he told her he plans to open a joke shop with George after they graduate. 

“You’re in love with me?” She asks quietly and her heart is racing again. She thinks back to the day she accidentally confessed to Fred and how she’s spent the last few weeks trying to fall out of love with him just for him to admit he’s fallen in love with her. “Fred, if this is some sick and twisted joke I will never forgive you.” 

Fred almost looks hurt at this, that she thinks he’s capable of something that cruel. So instead of speaking, he softly cups her face in both his hands and runs his thumbs across her cheekbones in a loving manner. He looks her directly in the eyes and Y/N doesn’t think she’s breathed in the last 30 seconds.

She’s been craving being this close to Fred for as long as she can remember. Their lingering touches were never this intimate and right now, she feels like she can look into Fred’s eyes and see into his core, his soul. And he can do the same to her.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, and Y/N gasps before nodding, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips against hers. 

As he leans in his eyes flutter close, as do her’s. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people in her life, but nothing could ever compare to the way she feels right now. The love and adoration Fred is pouring into this kiss almost brings tears to her eyes and she can only hope he can feel the love and adoration she has for him back.

Their lips move in perfect synchrony, neither of them pushing each other too far, but when Y/N drags her fingers through Fred’s hair and he lets out a groan, she can’t help but pull away and giggle. 

“I’ve missed hearing you laugh.” Fred’s arms are now wrapped around her middle and he’s leaning down to press his forehead against hers. Now he has her in his arms, he’s never letting her go. 

“I’ve missed having you make me laugh, Freddie.” She says sincerely and it’s Fred’s turn to blush. He knows they need to eventually leave their little bubble of happiness they finally have but he doesn’t want too. But he knows they need to talk about what happened, about them, what they are and Fred so desperately hopes this means Y/N is his. 

She senses Fred’s thinking and she looks up at him, doe-eyed and innocent and Fred’s heart melts. 

“Stop overthinking.” She mutters, running her hand through his long hair again and Fred almost looks like a cat purring as he feels her fingernails rake across his scalp and he leans into her touch. “Can’t help it. Don’t want to lose you again.” 

Her heart pounds, this is all she’s ever wanted to hear and now she wants to hear it every single day. So she tells him exactly that.

“I’m yours, Freddie. As long as you’re mine? If you don’t know what you want it’s okay, I promise we can take it slow-” Fred cuts her off, laughing as he kisses her again and he feels how warm Y/N’s cheeks are, as she blushes over Fred silencing her with a kiss. When he pulls back, her face is flush, her hair is falling out of her bun. It reminds Fred of that day in the library, except this time, the happiness in her face is unmistakably there, and finally he’s the cause of it. 

“Of course, I’m yours, darling. I’m never letting you go.” 

- 

Late the next morning, when Y/N is trying her best to sneak out of the Gryffindor sixth year boys dormitory with a dark purple hickey adorning her neck, she spots three 4th years whose names she doesn’t even know, giving Ron Weasley five galleons. 

Ron sees her, and smirks. “My bet was at the ball. Thanks, Y/N, you and Freddie boy have made me a very rich man.”

 ---------------------------------------------------

[outofsstyles]

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

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

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

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m good.”

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

“I won’t!” You wave back.

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

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

                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you not have lipstick?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is, until now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

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

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

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

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

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

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

“No peeking.”

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I know mine.”

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

“Jennifer Aniston.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

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

“I figured.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you said yes.”

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

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

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

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.” 

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

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

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

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

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

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

“Ouch.”

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

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

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

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

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

“Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

[whack-ed]

“Just Friends” (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Synopsis: A halloween party was what it took for you to finally do what you wanted to do with Fred.

Warnings: make out; underage drinking and extremely flirtation.

Reader: Female

World Count: 2.5k

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, I had some personal problems to solve, but here I am! this is a oneshot for the special A very Harry Potter Halloween by @masterofthedarkness and @eleven-times-lively​. This one is for the 30th with the prompt Halloween Party! Hope you like it :)

tag list: @nebulablakemurphy​ @jamilelucato​ @inglourious-imagines​ @acciotwinz​ @clarissaxpearce​ 

if you want to be tagged, send me a ask!

Finally October, the favorite time of year for Y/n. For various reasons, fantasies, sweets, the weather, absolutely everything Y/n loved most was present in October. But probably the thing the girl liked the better was the Weasley twins' Halloween party. And this year promised, it was the twins' last year at school and they promised the best Halloween party this school has ever seen.

Usually Y/n knew everything the twins were preparing, since they were a quartet. The twins, Y/n and Lee. These four names together gave chills to any teacher. But not this time. This year it was just Fred and George who were looking for trouble. The twins didn't let Y/n and Lee participate at all, the surprise was for everyone. And of course, Y/n's anxiety didn't leave the twins alone for a minute.

"Please Fred, tell me at least the color of the glasses!" Y/n insisted on Fred saying at least a little detail about the party. The secret was complete.

"I already said that I don't speak a word to you, Y/n" The redhead replied laughing.

They were in a history of magic class, automatically nobody was paying attention. The twins sat in the last row, Y/n and Lee just ahead.

"What are the drinks going to be, that's no big deal!" Lee asked as curious as Y/n.

"Not a word, Lee," George replied with a sly smile on his face, the same as the one on his brother's face.

"I hate you both" Y/n said irritably and turned forward.

Fred who was behind Y/n leaned forward and rested his head on the girl's shoulder, whispering her ear. Fred's proximity to Y/n's ear made the girl get goosebumps and close her eyes while the redhead spoke. "You don't miss out on waiting, baby"

George and Lee exchanged a look that they knew well what it meant. Y/n and Fred have always had this relationship ... doubtful. Nothing but indirect flirtations happened between the two, there was never anything else. George and Lee always questioned the two of them if something happened in the backstage that they didn't see, and of course, the answer was always the same "We are just friends". Only friends my ass, George thought. The boy knew his brother well to know when he was lying.

Fred then returned to his seat and Y/n kept her eyes closed digesting the sensation she had just had, wishing it had lasted a little longer. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked several times, returning to reality.

"My God, the sexual tension between you two can be cut with a knife," Lee said making the three friends laugh.

"We are just friends, you know that" Y/n replied and noticed that this time Fred's laugh was not genuine. Apparently George noticed it too. But of course it could only be Y/n's head.

The class passed slowly as usual, but amid laughter, scolding from the teacher and notes on the parchment, time finally passed. It was already lunchtime and Y/n couldn't be more thankful for that. Her thoughts could go from Fred to the mountain of mashed potatoes that awaited her.

Weeks passed and the twins had not yet given any information about the party. It wasn't just Lee and Y/n who were looking forward now, all seventh graders as well. The fact that Umbridge was taking care of the school, making so many rules, only made things more exciting. The twins couldn't be loud ... At least not in theory.

Now everyone was in the common room, some doing their homework and others just hanging out. Everything was calm until the most beloved twins in the world came in doing what they do best, drawing attention.

“My dear student friends" George was saying.

"Me and my dear brother, we finally have the invitations ready!" Fred completed.

"And what does that mean, bro?" George asked doing a theatrical pose.

"That not even the pink toad was able to stop the Weasley Twins!" Fred completed again by opening his arms also in a theatrical way.

“But it’s worth remembering that the party is only for people from the fifth year upwards” Some sad moans were heard from some students from the fourth year downwards “So my little grasshoppers, you who didn’t taste one of our Halloween parties, will have to look for that taste in our store! ” George announced and the sad moans automatically turned into happy faces.

“That's right! We believe that very soon, our store will have a physical point and will be 100% prepared to serve all of you little pests! ” Fred said laughing and started handing out the invitations.

The invitations were not common, as nothing the twins did was common, no one was surprised, just curious. They were orange sweets in the shape of mini pumpkins.

“But is this sweet? How should we know where and when to go with a sweet? ” Ron asked as soon as George handed him one of the pumpkins.

"I suggest taking a bite, little brother," Fred said mockingly, handing one to Y/n. "I made this one especially for you" And winked at the girl. Hers was Y/F/C , your favorite color. As soon as the girl saw the candy she smiled at Fred and got a little flushed.

As soon as Ron took a bite of the fearful candy, sparkles that resembled fireworks with a date, time and place emerged from the pumpkin.

"We just suggest that you don't eat it whole, eating the other piece makes you invisible for 15 minutes, so you can go to the party without drawing unnecessary attention" Fred said with a smile on his face, proud of what he had done.

It was amazing how these boys were the life of the party wherever they went. Y/n smile so proudly for the boys. After the euphoria of delivery of the pumpkins, the boys sat on the sofa with only a few students in the room, most of had already gone to sleep. Y/n was in an armchair by the fireplace, reading a book. Fred settled on the floor in front of the girl and rested his head on her knees. George sat next to Lee on the couch.

"Okay, now that we have everything set up, what will your fantasy be?" George asked to his friends.

"I was thinking of going as a werewolf" Lee replied playing with the hem of his shirt.

"What a cliché, Lee" Hermione who was finishing up her homework said from across the room. She, Harry and Ron were actually finishing up their homework. But everyone knew that the boys were just waiting for Hermione to finish copying hers.

"You're right, he should go as you Hermione, who knows, maybe someone will put limits on this party?" Ron replied laughing, immediately regretting because of Hermione's furious reaction.

"And what are you going to be dressed up for?" Y/n asked lowering the book, she had stopped paying attention long ago.

"Us? Secret too" Fred replied to the girl.

"You guys are getting unbearable with this, you know?" Y/n said looking at the twins.

"Just noticed now?" Lee said sarcastically.

Y/n snorted angrily and pulled her legs up so that Fred could no longer lean on them, causing the boy to turn his head to her laughing.

"You look so beautiful when you're mad" He said and stood up and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I think it's past time for us to go to sleep, we need energy to organize what comes tomorrow, Georgie"

George got up too and agreed with his brother, so the two went up to the dorm wishing everybody a good night.

"I'll see if I can get anything out of them before bed, good night, Y/n" Lee said and went after the twins.

Harry was already drooling at the table, Ron was almost, only Hermione was still focused. Y/n got up and headed for the girls' dorm.

"Good night, Mione" Y/n said.

"When are you two going to assume you have more than a friendship, Y/n?" Hermione asked before she went up. The girl laughed and shook her head.

"We are just friends"

The following days passed with Y/n listening to discussions to see what would be the fantasy of her friends. Lee really was a werewolf, Hermione was from an important witch that nobody really understood who was just that had something to do with defending giants, Ron was going as a auror, Harry as a  quidditch player, and of course the fantasy of Fred and George it was still a secret.

At breakfast on the day of the party, everyone was euphoric. The whispers came not only from the Gryffindor table, but from all of them, even some Slytherins were excited.

And because she kept her head elsewhere, Y/n ended up forgetting to think about her fantasy. Then, taking advantage of having a visit to Hogsmade that day, she asked Hermione for help in choosing a costume. The girls went to each clothing store until they found the perfect costume. That was it, they thought. It perfectly matched Y/n's personality.

The hours passed and now it was only an hour before the twins' Halloween party. The girls in Y/n's room were euphoric. They had pirates, healers, vampires, it looked like a children's book in one room. Y/n was finishing her makeup and would already be ready to leave. The outfit she had chosen was nothing less than court jester. Not a dull court jester, according to Hermione, and here I quote her words, she was a “sexually desirable jester”. A colorful short dress, socks to the thighs one of each color, hair tied with colored ribbons and a cute clown makeup. It was perfect.

"You look perfect, Y/n!" Angelina said to the girl with colored ribbons in her hair.

"You too, Angie, wonderful by the way!" Y/n said to her friend that was dressed as a fairy.

The two then descended together, meeting several people in costume in the main hall. And in the sea of mummies and mermaids, Y/n spotted the werewolf she was looking for.

“Lee! Lee! ” The girl called and Lee turned to see her.

"Y/n ... Bloody hell woman, now I understand what Fred talks about so much" Lee replied looking Y/n up and down.

"What does Fred say?" Y/n asked frankly eyebrows.

"He keeps saying you have phenomenal thighs," Lee replied, staring at her legs.

“Hey! Lee! Eyes up here! ” Y/n responded making the boy automatically look embarrassed, but then laughing.

"Let's go then?" Lee asked Y/n and she nodded.

The two then ate all the pumpkin and automatically the picture of the fat woman opening, looked like a passage of ghosts, no one was seen, all you could hear were footsteps and some muffled laughter through the corridors.

Finally, after walking a lot trying to make a minimum of noise, they reached the precise room. The door opened and the legion of students entered the place. When Fred and George said it was going to be the best Halloween party this school has ever seen, they weren't kidding.

There were already some students in the room, but the decor was clear. They had colorful and noiseless fireworks shining on the ceiling tirelessly, they seemed bewitched to last all night. The smoke on the ground made it look like a swamp, you could barely see people's feet. The tables set with various sweets with different shapes and a large bowl with punch, certainly alcoholic. The walls decorated with purple and orange ribbons all over the place. Of course, cobwebs, skeletons and pumpkins were placed in every corner. The music was loud, but it was not heard outside, they had also bewitched it. The only strange thing was that Fred and George were not yet in place.

More and more people were arriving and none of the twins. Y/n was having fun with Lee and other friends, but missed the redheaded duo. While some students were kissing in a corner and others were stuffing themselves with food, Y/n was dancing with a glass in her hand, like there's no tomorrow. She moved her hips from side to side without caring if she was drawing too much attention. Tonight was really for that.

The only part of the place that no one had understood was the stairway in the corner of the room that led to a balcony and a small door that nobody could open. After a while, Y/n ignored the stairs, and suddenly after the girl's third glass, the door made sense. It had opened up and the music had turned down the volume. There they were, Fred and George came out of the door in the costume of Kings. Y/n laughed with them and stopped dancing, looking at the boys.

"Feel free, my subjects, the party is yours today!" Fred said raising his hands.

"And remember, if you are not going to party like us, you can leave" George added.

"And let the party really start!" Fred shouted and everyone shouted in agreement.

The twins then descended the stairs, as if they were true kings. Strangely, their fantasy matched the boys perfectly. Y/n after seeing that the boys were already enjoying the party normally, she took another sip of her drink and started dancing again.

The music playing was sensual, and it is clear that the girl, with the courage that the drink gave her, took advantage of the moment. She had wanted to do this for years, and the opportunity never came, but now? Last year, she was going to do what she wanted without fear.

Y/n started to dance to the music, as sensual as the beat of each note. She knew they had several pairs of eyes on her, but only one interested her. Then the girl turned to where Fred was and she couldn't be more pleased to see that he was looking at her like a dog is looking at a piece of meat, with pure desire. She then danced looking directly at him.

Fred couldn't hold on any longer, he dodged the crowd and came very close to Y/n, grabbed her waist tightly and without thinking, he kissed the girl. It was as if everyone in the room had disappeared. They were just there, Y/n and Fred. The girl returned the kiss at the same time her lips met, placing her hands on the boy's neck.

The two separated only because they were forced to breathe. Keeping foreheads glued together. Smiling broadly. And you can hear George and Lee in the background shouting "Finally!" "Just friends, my ass!" And things like that. But Fred and Y/n couldn't care less.

"So.. hm, I think we're not just friends after all, huh?" Fred says laughing still being very close to you.

"I don't think we ever were just friends"