#cause I play and I’m like it’s 3am I should stop after this and it’s 3:30 so I’m like well…I’ll stay up for the pills then 😭😂

[yoohyeon]

I only have 4 asks (even though it’s written 19) ???? I hope everyone is fine ❤️💚

[dark-vader28]

before I start I love your work you’re literally my favourite writer on tumblr atm :)

(I never do requests so I might be a bit stiff 😭)

I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is Rodricks neighbour and one of his best friends. And it’s like friends to lovers?

Rodrick takes us on drives with his van often and loves spending time with us. And then one day he confesses. (Idk I’m waffling atp)

aww this is so cute i love this idea and tysm!!

a/n: i’m sorry this is so lazy and poorly edited, i’ve just been so swamped with work but i didn’t wanna wait any longer to write this cause it’s such a cute idea.

———

Greg and Rowley were getting tossed around in the back of Rodrick’s van, flying across with every bump in the road. Music blasted through the van and out the open windows as you and Rodrick sat in the front. For a moment you felt bad for the two boys in the back, one of them being your best friend’s younger brother. But you were over the feeling as Rodrick air-drummed along to the song, nearly crashing the car for the millionth time. You’d gotten used to his reckless driving and if anything, you enjoyed it like it was some rollercoaster.

The van slammed to a stop at Rodrick’s house and Greg slammed against the back of your seat, causing you to laugh. You turned to look back at them, unbuckling your seatbelt in the meantime. They both looked horrified, wide-eyed and disheveled clothing and hair, but they didn’t look hurt. No visible signs of bruises or bleeding anyway.

The radio shut off and you hurried out the car and to the back to help Greg and Rowley out. You knew Rodrick wasn’t the biggest fan of either of them but you didn’t mind them and the sinking feeling of guilt started to return as you watched them stumble out the car.

“Guess he shouldn’t have taken out the seats in the back,” you commented, grabbing Greg’s backpack that had been thrown around.

“Ya think?” Greg replied, pissy and sarcastic. Rowley scrambled to his feet, swinging his backpack onto both shoulders.

“Maybe I can convince Rodrick to let me drive next time, alright?” you suggested.

“Only if you’re better than that,” Greg scowled, glaring at Rodrick who was running inside.

“Be nice,” you warned.

“Why?! Rodrick nearly killed us!” Greg defended.

“He’s my best friend like Rowley is yours. Be nice or I won’t do you a favour and ask Rodrick if I could drive.” Greg frowned but kept his mouth shut, dragging Rowley along with him as they ran inside.

You were closing up the back of the van when Rodrick came running back out. You heard his quiet footsteps and quickly turned around before he could try and scare you.

“You know, maybe I should drive next time,” you told him, going to the passenger seat to grab your backpack.

“What? No way,” Rodrick replied without missing a beat. Your backpack hung from one shoulder as you closed the car door.

“Why not?” you questioned.

“My van, my keys,” he said, dangling his keys in the air. “I drive.”

“Yeah, well one day you’re gonna end up killing Greg and Rowley back there,” you added, shooting him a disapproving look.

“So?” he retorted. You pushed his shoulder, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as you hid a smile.

“You’re a douche, you know that?” you laughed, heading towards your house (which was right beside Rodrick’s). He followed after you. He tossed an arm around your shoulder, a gesture he started doing more and more often that you had grown accustomed to.

“Well, chicks dig bad boys,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes again, pushing him off of you and he laughed harder.

Rodrick stayed over until about 7 that night, leaving when he figured he should go home before his mom had a fit about him missing family dinner. The two of you hung out nearly every night. More often than not, you were at his house, sat in his garage as he played drums or in his room watching scary movies until you were left holding onto him. You often weren’t that scared but watching horror movies at 3am is a different story. The only reason you ever hung out at your house was when Rowley was hanging out with Greg to spare the both of you from being bothered by them.

You and Rodrick had been friends since your family moved to town. The house right beside the Heffley’s was for sale and your father bought it without hesitation. You then met Rodrick at school, around the beginning of 8th grade. The two of you were sat in the back and you made some half-witted comment about how arbitrary and ridiculous the lecture and class was. Rodrick overheard and the two of you spent the next few weeks insulting and cracking jokes about the teacher in that class. Your desks would always scoot closer together and you had to cover your mouth to stifle the laughter and hide the smiles. By the end of 8th grade, you had spent a majority of the year sitting at his lunch table and hanging out after school. You used to go to the park near your house and torment the other kids there; hiding behind play structures and jumping out to scare them. It became more after that, especially when high school hit. You used to spend an afternoon together once in a while but he started to become an everyday thing, taking drives together when he somehow managed to get his license. Fortunately for the two of you, Rodrick’s mom adored you. Which may be why his parents never had a problem with you spending endless nights there.

But, despite what your parents thought at first and what Greg and Rowley think, you never had any romantic feelings for him. He didn’t feel like a brother to you either considering the way you saw Rodrick and Greg relentlessly bicker and fight. You weren’t like that with Rodrick. Sure, you teased one another but never fought in the way you’d watched Greg and Rodrick fight. You loved Rodrick, not in a brotherly way or in a “i’m in love with you, and i know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable” way. Or at least you thought.

Saturday evening rolled around and you sat up against the headboard of your bed, flipping through some old book you’d had for years. Your eyes flicked over the pages, hardly taking in and reading a single word. Your headphones blared music into your ears and you couldn’t help but tap the spine of the book along to the rhythm until you lost all interest in the book’s entirety. You tossed it aside, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. Normally, it would’ve been a day where you and Rodrick hung out but he had never picked up the phone and called you, or came pounding on your door, or even had failed attempts at climbing through your window (considering your parents were a little less fond of Rodrick, calling him a bad influence and whatnot). His absence left your day empty and it felt tedious with how slow the hours seemed to pass.

Around 9 o’clock, when you planned on having an early night due to your lack of things to do, you could hear honking from the front of your house. Then a shout of your name echoed through the house. You pulled on a jacket, covering up your bare arms, and practically flew down the stairs. Your mom stood at the front door, arms folded over her chest with a scowl.

“That boy, Rodrick, is honking outside. I just put your sister to bed and now she’s up, crying,” your mom frowned. You pursed your lips briefly and glanced at the door.

“Sorry, mom,” you mumbled, sliding into a pair of shoes before hurrying out the door. As you closed it behind you, you saw Rodrick hanging out the window of his van, one hand over the horn while the other held him up. His hand seemed to slip and he honked again. You rushed to the car and hit him as he flopped down into his seat. “Quit honking, or my mom’s gonna kill you,” you urged. Despite the darkness of the night, the pale moonlight lit up his face just enough to see the red of his cheeks as he looked away from you.

“Get in then, or I’ll honk again,” Rodrick joked and you rolled your eyes, smiling, before willingly getting in the passenger side.

“I should’ve asked, where exactly are we going?” you asked, turning your attention to him as he began driving. He was driving slower and much more carefully than he ever had before. His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug and he failed to look in your direction.

“I just wanted to take a drive,” he replied simply, sounding a little sheepish, which wasn’t like him. Taking drives with him wasn’t an unusual thing per se, but the way he seemed quieter and damn near stunned around you hadn’t fit his typical demeanor. Quite frankly, it worried you.

“Don’t you have a curfew?” you asked. He tapped the wheel, looking nearly everywhere but you. He nodded cautiously.

“Yeah, 9 o’clock,” he muttered. You laughed a bit, hoping it would lighten the mood or ease the tension that was weighing a ton.

“Well then, Rodrick, I-” but he interrupted.

“Have you ever liked anyone?” he blurted out. Your brow furrowed, stunned by the randomness of the question. His knuckles looked white from the way he gripped the steering wheel and you feared he would break it off.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” you questioned, avoiding answering. He drew in a sharp breath.

“I was just wondering,” he replied. You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating on your response.

“Why, you like someone?” you asked, still delaying your answer as you tried to conjure up something to say. What did it matter to him? Better yet, why had the question made you so nervous? You and Rodrick told each other nearly everything. Rodrick ran to you asking for advice when he had a crush on Heather Hills. Why was it so different now?

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t,” he added, his voice going even quieter.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t?” you inquired. His jaw clenched and he brought the car to a stop. You looked around outside for a moment. There were no houses. There was nothing at all really. Just empty land.

It was silent except for the distant chirp of crickets. It took Rodrick a moment before he finally spoke. “Y/n, I-” he stopped, finally looking at you. All words escaped his mind and the rest of his sentence trailed off. He averted his gaze as quickly as he had found it and cleared his throat. He shook his head and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He buried his face in his hands and your worry reached its peak. He seemed outright miserable.

“I like you,” he spoke, voice muffled by his hands. Your jaw went slack and eyes went wide.

“What?” you asked quietly, not because you hadn’t heard but because you couldn’t fathom the fact he liked you of all people.

He lifted his face out of his hands and repeated himself, louder this time. “I like you.” Your gaze softened.

“Rodrick,” you began softly. His hands fell to his lap, then raised again and gripped the wheel, running his hands over it. Your mind was going nearly a million miles an hour, trying to sort out his and your own feelings. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest and you could hear the thump of it through the silence. You were hoping he would say something as you tried to carefully pick out your words but your head was just a jumble of all the things you wished you could say.

“Yeah, no, I get it,” he said, sounding defeated. You shook your head and your mouth opened but no words seemed to pour out. When there was a lack of your response, Rodrick jumped in. “I’ll take you home. Forget this ever happened, alright?” He finally met your gaze again and you could see the way his eyes were glassy and on the verge of bloodshot. You felt your eyes start to pool up. He turned his attention to the road and started up the car again.

“Rod, I, um, I didn’t mean for you to take it like that.” You desperately racked your brain for any of the right words that seemed to be forming on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t deliver it properly. “To be honest, I don’t know how I feel.” You let out a light laugh, keeping yourself from the tears about to flow down your cheeks.

You were so enveloped in your mess of thoughts, you hadn’t noticed when Rodrick’s van pulled to a stop right in front of your house. You swallowed the lump in your throat and a hot tear rolled down your cheek. You’d come to the realization you liked him too, and maybe that you always had. It had never made sense to you though; that you felt that way for him. It didn’t made sense now either but it was clear that you did. You both got out of his van and you rushed over to his side. He was heading up his driveway and you stepped in front of him. He stopped, looked down at you through a few strands of his dark shaggy hair that covered his glassy doe brown eyes and you felt your heart stop for a moment. You cupped his face, and moved up to press your lips to his. There was a moment of bliss and ignorance where it felt like the world fell away. But you felt him tense underneath your touch and you slipped away. You let your hand fall away and felt the sinking feeling of regret in your stomach as you started walking away. Maybe if you had seen the dorky bright smile illuminate Rodrick’s face as you walked away, you might’ve felt better but you scurried home and spent the rest of the night thinking you made the worst decision of your life; ruining your friendship with Rodrick in a way that couldn’t be recovered.

The doorbell echoed through the house, startling you awake. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and turning on your side to look at your alarm clock. It was barely 9 am. You yawned and stretched as you sat up, finally getting up as the doorbell rang impatiently again. Your eyes had dark rings and were still red from your night of crying over Rodrick (shamefully and feeling ridiculously stupid for caring so much) but you hardly thought about how you looked as you stumbled to the door. The doorbell rang a 3rd time and you were sure your parents would be mad at you for not answering the door sooner. You swung the door open carelessly, not bothering to look through the peephole first. Despite your tiredness blinding your senses, the strong scent of flowers filled your nose when the door opened and when your eyes focused, you noticed the bright arrangement of colors before you, all blooming and full of life, which you weren’t sure you’d be able to maintain for long.

“My mom picked them, I didn’t know what you like,” the voice mumbled. Your attention flicked up from the flowers to the one holding them. You suddenly wished you looked better; your hair tangled from bedhead, bloodshot eyes, and some old tank top and pajama pants you had for years. Your eyes found Rodrick’s deep brown eyes and messy hair with a crooked smile on his lips. You nearly swooned, gaze softening as you could feel your heart melt.

“Rodrick,” you started quietly. He held the flowers out to you and you took them, a grin spreading across your face. You were speechless. You never took him as the type to give flowers, especially after one impulsive kiss. Not to your knowledge, Rodrick had run to his mom that night and begged her to help him. He didn’t trust most of her advice but took her ideas and turned them into The Rodrick Way. Except for the flowers. That was all his mom’s idea.

“Wanna take a drive?”

———

a/n (again): this was kinda lazy and i hate this but i felt bad for postponing posting this for so long and i can’t keep rereading this and trying to fix it 😭 anyway, i loved the request so much!

[quodekash]

ECLIPSE INCORRECT QUOTES

because that’s when you know im obsessed with it

(disclaimer: I meant to do this literally two weeks ago but I didn’t think I had enough but I stopped for a bit and my adhd brain promptly forgot about it for a week and then remembered and then forgot for another week, and honestly i meant to actually make this for like a month before that but i didnt actually start finding the quotes until two weeks ago, but it’s fine I’m here now)

—- —-

Akk: Ayan is a little bitch.  Wat: Why?  Akk: Number one, he’s little. Number two, he’s a bitch.

(episode 1-3 core)

—- —-

Namo: The floor is lava!  Kan: *helps Thua onto the counter*  Akk: *kicks Wat off the sofa*  Ayan: *lays on the floor*  Namo: ...Are you okay?  Ayan: No. 

(im 80% certain this is a deleted scene from the beach episodes)

—- —-

*Akk and Ayan are planning to break in somewhere*  Akk: We need to distract the guards.  Ayan: Right.  Akk: What are we gonna do?  Ayan: I'm gonna break their elbows while you poke their eyes.  Akk:  Ayan:  Akk: Deal. 

—- —-

Akk: Aye, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason.  Ayan, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than his size: Spooky. 

—- —-

Akk: I'm going to take a shower, I'll be right back.  Ayan: Why are you telling me this, I don't care.  Ayan, right after Akk leaves the room: I miss him already.

—- —-

Aye: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.  Aye, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor. 

—- —-

Akk: I fell—  Aye: From heaven?  Akk: No, I literally fell—  Aye: In love with me the moment you saw me?  Akk: MY ARM IS BROKEN!  Aye: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest. 

—- —-

Aye: Are we fighting or flirting?  Akk: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-  Aye: Your point? 

—- —-

Thua: Two bros!  Kan: Chillin' in a hot tub!  Thua and Kan, in unison: Zero feet apart 'cause we're GAY AS FUCK! 

—- —-

Akk: I owe you one.  Aye: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even. 

—- —-

Thua: I want to kiss you.  Kan, not paying attention: What?  Thua: I said if you die, I wont miss you. 

(its okay thua, he's not ignoring you, he has adhd. just kiss him, he'll be happy, trust me)

—- —-

Kan: And now for a gay update with Akk and Aye.  Akk: Getting gayer.  Kan: Thank you, Akk. 

—- —-

Wat: So… I’ve seen you’ve been spending a lot of time with Thua recently.  Kan: No, Wat, it's not what it looks like, I swear.  Wat: Oh really? So no reason for me to be jealous?  Kan: No! You’re the only one for me.  Wat: Is that so?  Kan: I promise! Thua and I are just dating, okay? He’s my boyfriend.  Wat: So there are no best-friends-feelings involved?  Kan: You are still my one and only best friend! He’s just the love of my life, nothing more!  Wat: But I’m still the platonic love of your life, right?  Kan: Of course bro!  Wat: Bro...  Thua: What the- 

—- —-

*at 3am*  Kan: *runs into Akk’s room and turns on the light* Wake up sleepyhead!  Akk: *wakes up* Dude!  Kan: *cackles*  Aye: *sits up from where he was sleeping behind akk* What the fuck, Kan? Kan: *jaw drops* Wait WHAT- 

(the original vine is now playing over and over in my head and its probably my favourite vine and its literally them and i love it so much gerjdhgbrh)

—- —-

Kan: This totally sucks, man.  Akk: This is horrible.  Kan: Yeah, I know, I mean look at everything the curse did to those rulebreakers today.  Akk: No, it’s not that, it’s Aye. Akk: It’s just like, I can’t get him out of my head and every time I look at him I have these pains in my chest, and I just know it’s his fault, that bitch! 

(AVPM QUOTE LETS GOOO and yes it is perfection and is exactly canon i take no criticism)

—- —-

Kan: Did Thua just tell me he loved me for the first time?  Akk: Yeah, he did.  Kan: And did I just do finger guns back?  Akk: Yeah, you did. 

(oh you sweet sweet maybe-bisexual man)

—- —-

Aye: *finds a note* Hmm, whats this?  Kan: Hey, that's mine! *tries to grab it*  Aye: Aww, it's a love note for Thua?  Kan: No-  Aye: *opens it*  Aye:  Kan:  Aye: I can't read this. 

(is it because the contents are too explicit to read or because kan's handwriting is awful? you decide)

—- —-

Kan: So are you gonna explain how the hell you crashed my car?  Akk: Well we were driving and there was a deer in the road, so I said "Aye, deer!"  Kan: ...And what did you say?  Aye: ..."Yes, Honey?" 

—- —-

Kan: I love you.  Thua: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.  *Kan and Thua kiss passionately*  Wat, to Akk: You owe me 20 dollars. 

(HES BEEN SAYING IT FOR YEARS AND THEY FINALLY DID IT. IMAGINE THE VICTORIOUS FEELING WAT FELT IN THAT MOMENT. NOT TO MENTION THE JOY AT HIS SHIP FINALLY GETTING TOGETHER. BRO IS AS PHENOMENAL AS TIW AND I LOVE HIM SO FREAKING MUCH (someone write a crossover fic where tiw and wat get together and plot their ships' getting together. if someone has already written this, please tell me)

—- —-

Kan: Time sensitive question how flirt boy.  Akk: Throw rocks at he.  Aye: Hot Dogs.  Wat: Kill him.  Kan: Thanks guys. 

—- —-

Kan, trying to sound happy: *about Aye and Thua* They’d make a cute couple, huh? Akk, holding back tears: They certainly are standing next to each other. 

(first few episodes core. specifically when aye is whispering in thua's ear and theyre both just standing to the side watching it happen and completely unaware that this means they are gay and in love with one of them)

—- —-

Thua: I'm so happy, I could kiss you!  Kan: Um...Neat.  *later*  Kan, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Akk. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid.  Akk, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Kan. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Aye confessed his love for me?  Kan: Didn't you thank him?  Akk: *closes the book and looks at the ceiling* I fucking thanked him. 

—- —-

Kan: How is the most beautiful person in the world?  Thua: *blushing* I—  Aye, butting into the conversation: Akk is perfect, thanks for asking. 

—- —-

Wat: Do you love Kan?  Thua: Yeah, I do.  Wat: Akk! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 baht!  Akk: We all love Kan. You should've asked if he was IN love with him.  Thua: I thought that was implied.  Akk: ...  Wat: ...  Thua, looking straight at Akk: Congrats Wat, you just won 100 baht. 

—- —-

Akk: Are you trying to seduce me?  Aye: Why, are you seducible? 

—- —-

Aye: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much.  Wat: Oh, you’ve been?  Aye: Once. In Monopoly. 

—- —-

Wat: When I was a kid, Kan told me that the paper strip that’s in the chocolate kisses were edible and I ate them with the chocolate for a year.  Teacher Sani: They are!  Wat: FOR REAL?  Sani: No! Why did you fall for it again? 

—- —-

Thua, on a random band name generator: Oooo! They Might Be Depressed Horses! That about sums up my friend group. 

—- —-

Akk: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us.  Ayan: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both. 

—- —-

Ayan: Hey, Akk, what do you think it would be like if we had kids?  Akk: What would it be like? Inconvenient, mostly.  Ayan: No, I mean, what would they be like, the kids? You ever think about it?  Akk: Can't really say I have.  Ayan: You know, for someone as eccentric as yourself, you can be boring as fuck sometimes.  Akk: Sorry, Aye. For what it's worth, I'm picturing them now. A boy and a girl. Two perfect little freaks of nature raised by people who've clearly got no business bringin' up anybody. 

—- —-

Ayan: Talk dirty to me, baby~  Akk: The dishes.  Ayan: Wh-  Akk: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times. 

—- —-

Ayan: My hands are cold.  Akk: Here, let me hold them.  Ayan: My lips are cold too. Akk: *covers Ayan's mouth with his hand* 

—- —-

Akk: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.  Ayan: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.  Akk: ...  Akk: You mean ring bearER, right?  Ayan: ...  Akk: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding. 

—- —-

Ayan: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.  Akk: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit. 

—- —-

Akk: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy.  Ayan: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep.  Akk: I said within reason, Ayan. How about I murder that guy?  Ayan: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't?  Akk: Well, duh. What kind of question is that? 

—- —-

Ayan: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.  Akk: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.  Ayan: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??  Akk: Is it working? 

—- —-

Akk: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.  Ayan: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.  Akk: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??  Ayan: Is it working? 

—- —-

and now, for my personal favourite...

Ayan: Akk is playing hard to get.  Ayan: Little does he know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of. 

—- —-

that's all for now, but i promise, i will be back

[halfbakedspuds]

Thanks to @honeybewrites for the tag

OC incorrect quotes tag

Rules: use this quotes generator for your OC's and share what you get.

I had way too much fun with this. None of these should fit this trio nearly as well as they do

Adrian: Crushes are the worst. Whenever I’m near mine, I start acting stupid. Lyanni: You always act stupid. Lyanni: Lyanni: Wait... Lyanni: So, what's for dinner? Adrian, staring at the food he burnt: Regret. Lyanni: Talk dirty to me, baby~ Adrian: The dishes. Lyanni: Wh- Adrian: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times. Adrian: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us. Lyanni: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both. Lyanni: *Laughs* Babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing— Adrian: We’re married. Lyanni: I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Adrian: Damn, that sounds like a marriage proposal. Lyanni, getting down on one knee: That's 'cause it is. Adrian: *angrily presses Lyanni against a wall* WHERE'S THE MONEY?! Lyanni: ... Lyanni: Are we about to kiss-

No pressure tag for @illarian-rambling, @orion-lacroix and anyone else who wants in

Adrian: Why can't any of you ever clean up after yourselves? Wilhelm: I have a person who does that for me. Adrian: Yeah, ME. Wilhelm: I'm glad you agree. Lyanni: You know, when I first met you I thought you were a real bitch. Wilhelm: What changed your mind? Lyanni: Oh, I still think you're a bitch. I've just grown to like that about you. Wilhelm: What's this? Lyanni, hugging Wilhelm: Affection! Wilhelm: Disgusting. Wilhelm: ...Do it again.

Lyanni, to Adrian: Why is Wilhelm not talking? Adrian: I'm playing the silent game with him. Lyanni: Well, then you just lost. Adrian: I lost two hours ago. I gave him ear plugs and told him to close his eyes. It was the only way I could think of to get him to shut up. Wilhelm: Now, Lyanni, all of us are doing this because we care about you, okay? Adrian: Except for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face. Wilhelm: And here we see Lyanni and Adrian in their natural habitat. Texting eachother variations of the word "garlic bread" to try to make eachother laugh. Lyanni: Gaelic bread. Adrian: Grueling brad. Lyanni: Ha ha, glamorous beans. Lyanni: I bet you can’t make a sentence without the letter “A”! Adrian: You thought you just did something there, didn’t you? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but numerous sentences could be constructed without employing the first letter of the English lexicon. Wilhelm: Fuck you. Wilhelm: What time is it? Lyanni: I don’t know, pass me that saxaphone and we’ll find out Lyanni: *BLASTS the saxaphone* Adrian: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXAPHONE AT TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING Lyanni: It’s 2 am Lyanni: Oh, so you two are getting along very... cordial now? Adrian: Cordial? Nah, we're friends. Lyanni: Friends? Adrian: Yeah. After you stopped us fighting, we got to talking. Seems like we have some common interests. Wilhelm: We both love butterflies. Lyanni: Aww– Wilhelm: And beating people up. Lyanni: Oh, okay. Adrian: Why were you up yesterday until 3am? Wilhelm: How did you know I was up until 3am? Lyanni: We could hear you clapping to the FRIENDS intro every 25 minutes. Wilhelm: What are you guys doing? Lyanni: Like in life in general or- Adrian: Not much. Why, what's up? Wilhelm: I dunno, I’m bored playing AC. Adrian: Assassins Creed? Wilhelm: Animals Creed. Lyanni: Assassins Crossing. Wilhelm: I have an army. Adrian: We have a Lyanni. *Adrian recording whilst Lyanni and Wilhelm are arguing* Wilhelm: HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP, HOLD UP!! HER SISTER WAS A WITCH, RIGHT? AND WHAT WAS HER SISTER? A PRINCESS! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST, BRO! Adrian: *wheezes like a tea kettle* Lyanni, pulling out a knife: I'm gonna stab him. Wilhelm: YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG? AM I WRONG? Lyanni: It's my favorite movi- Wilhelm: SHE WORE A CROWN AND SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE, LYA! Lyanni: I'm not fighting with you, I'm not fighting with y- Wilhelm: GROW UP, BRO. GROW UP! Wilhelm: Hey, Lya? Lyanni: Yeah? Wilhelm: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on? Lyanni: Lyanni: Where’s Adrian?!

[a-regular-amount-of-spiders]

Request: AU where the BatSiblings are complete strangers stuck sitting next to each other on a 16-hour long flight ✈️

Okay so admittedly, this got away from me a bit. But it was loads of fun to write! Please enjoy :)

Steph bops her head along to the music playing through the one earbud she has in, making sure to look occupied and unapproachable as she listens for her boarding group. There’s not too many people on the direct flight from the Changi airport all the way to Newark - it’s 19 hours and almost $5,000, let alone one leaving at 3am, but she’s tired and wants to be home already so she shelled out the cash after the mission and trudged her way to a gate in the back corner. Getting her gear through airport security wasn’t as hard as it honestly should be, the nifty hidden compartment of her carry-on ensuring it all slipped under their noses. It was, however, nerve wracking every single time.

Her boarding group is called after the typical first calls- disabled, first class, etc- and she realizes abruptly that she’s only in line with about 7 other people, most of whom seem just as taken aback as she was by the small number of passengers. Even if it was ungodly early and an 18 hour flight the airline would normally cancel anything with less than 100 people on it. She boards still- because even if something is wrong she’s confident in her ability to handle it- and stops at one of the first class seats. She wishes they had a bit more privacy, the airbus had a somewhat open layout which only emphasized how weirdly empty it was, and looked at the other people on the plane. The red haired woman who Steph had seen in a wheelchair earlier was already seated in one of the front seats, typing very rapidly on her keyboard. She’d made a subtle assessment of the people who had entered. Subtle enough to impress Steph as much as it added to her general sense of unease. The person who had been in front of her was a shorter man, tired pale eyes, baggy clothes, and big headphones. He slumped down in the front middle row as soon as they had boarded. The stewards tittered in a language Steph couldn’t quite muddle out- likely a local dialect- and brought him a cup of steaming coffee without even being asked. He didn’t seem surprised though, so perhaps this had been a request he made in advance.

There were 5 people that followed after, a pretty man with curly hair and a kind smile. He was in athletic clothes, and sat diagonally from her. Then came a teenager with twists pulled back into a ponytail, his backpack was an abrasive yellow and he was uneasy as Steph felt, but much worse at hiding it. He shuffled past the first class seats, sitting just a few rows back. A tiny girl for how absolutely built her arms were, wearing amusement like an accessory sat right across from her. A completely unattended tween with a serious set to his face, green eyes burning with the burden of proving oneself and a lingering self doubt Steph had seen in the mirror more than enough to recognize it, or maybe project it. He sat in the corner of first class furthest from all of them. The last passenger was easily the largest, built like a brick shithouse with a scarred face and firmly set scowl. The tall guy seemed to pull up short at the sight of them all, glancing over his shoulder.

“If you’re looking for other passengers, I’m pretty sure we’re it.” The tired man drawled, staring unashamed at the tall man’s face. Steph couldn’t help but wonder if the guy was insanely confident or just insane because even she would have cringed at the sheer number of sharp looks immediately set upon him.

“And you know this, how, exactly?” The kind man asked, his voice matched his face. Easy going and steady.

“‘Cause I paid a truly disgusting amount for this flight to run despite the lack of passengers.” The man gives a sharp grin over his coffee cup as the crew close the door, and ask the tall man to sit. He sits right across the aisle from the insane man.

“I’m Tim Drake by the way.” The insane man, Tim, introduces himself and Steph is glad she recognizes the name. The folk behind Drake industries are also from Gotham, and would certainly be wealthy enough to make sure they got the flight they wanted.

“What, no private jet?” The teen moved from economy to one of the seats between the tall man and the kind man. “I’m Duke, by the by, and it seems that what I’m hearing is that I can sit wherever I want.” He’s less nervous now, but still clearly wary of the rest of them.

“Dick, and yes I have heard whatever joke just came to mind.” The kind man says, and steph closes her mouth.

“Cass” The girl next to her says, and only smiles and looks curiously as Steph when they wait for her to say more.

“Stephanie, but ah, you can call me Steph.” She smiles at them, and mentally starts a profile of all the other passengers. “Rich people really do the most insane shit like it’s totally normal huh?” She grins at Tim, and is relieved when he just nods. The tall man laughs, but it’s the redhead that introduces herself next as the plane takes off. Locking them into 19 hours together.

“I’m Barbara.” She closes her laptop, looking at them over her chunky purple glasses. “Are you all from Gotham as well?” She moves her legs to more properly face them.

“Born and raised.” The tall man responds, crime alley accent thick as any Steph has ever heard. “I’m Jason.” He’s gruff, but much less unfriendly than Steph would have assumed. She looks at the tween, who was staring out the window, everything about his body language screaming that he did not want to be addressed. But Steph was great at ignoring all languages equally.

“So who brought the kid?” She points her thumb at him, barely suppressing a smirk as his hackles rise. Oh this will be fun.

“I am perfectly capable of traveling alone.” the boy snaps indignantly.

“Who sends an 8 year old out on his own?” Tim crosses his arms over the back of his chair, pillowing his head on them.

“I am 13, not 8.” The boy growls.

“13 is still too young for a kid to be traveling so far alone” Barbra’s brows furrow in concern. “What’s your name?”

“I will not be treated like a meager child that cannot handle himself, I am-”

“Lonely” Cass interrupts the boy, voice quiet, silky, but unmissable. The boy sputters for a moment, surprise overriding his offense only momentarily.

“You-”

The ensuing argument lasted 3 hours. Across these hours Steph learns the following: Cass is terrifyingly perceptive, the boy’s name is Damian and he really likes animals and really hates anything resembling vulnerability, Dick has an adorable dog named Haley, was a circus kid, and teaches gymnastics, Jason has a german shepard named Dog, and has offered to look over Steph’s really messed up motorcycle, Duke is the most sarcastic kid she’s ever met, but also way too good at guessing games, and Barabra is as terrifyingly smart as she is cool. Steph and Cass had moved to sit next to her about half an hour in. Damian had gravitated to Dick’s side to look at the pictures of Haley and hadn’t left yet, Dick didn’t tolerate the insults, but was better than the rest of them at picking out when Damian was at least trying (badly) to not be a little shit. Steph personally liked both the abrasive and the almost cute side of Damian, she could tell he was trying and could sympathise with it.

Jason was passionate about Gotham, and had a hand in a lot of the programs Steph had participated in, when she commented her surprise that they hadn’t seen each other, Jason told her that he tended to not get directly involved since his face is scary for some people. Duke had said a few choice words on that, which somehow devolved into him and Jason arguing over the best street food from the east end.

Tim was a total nerd, and when he and Babs had gotten into technobabble Steph and Cass exchanged one confused look before Steph ‘borrowed’ Dick’s deck of cards to play a hectic game of poker. Tim and Cass became the preferred halves of her comedic duo about 5 hours in, both of them fantastic straight men to her favorite flavors of chaotic humor.

Everything was lighthearted until they hit the 9 hour mark, which is when Barbara mentioned being excited to see her dad, and the joy drained right out of the atmosphere. Her gentle comment of “rough subject?” Was met with a chorus of answers, that had them all looking at each other strangely. The following conversation was rugged, none of them being the most forthcoming about what had happened, but all of them being far too curious for their own good.

Things somehow became smoother when Duke mentioned the Joker, because all of them really hated to joker. It was also a hair too close to her vigilante work for Steph’s liking. Things really took a turn when Barbara decided to throw the conversational equivalent of a nuke into the mix, asking Duke: “Is that why you became Signal?”

Steph almost wishes there was an ensuing chaos, but the stiff suspicious reactions of the other vigilantes let them mutually realize way too much about each other. Duke looks over at Jason accusingly, asking: “Red Hood?”

Which Jason ignores in favor of snarling “You little shit! You’re Red Robin.” At Tim

“Well he’s Nightwing, so-” Tim deflects, pointing at Dick, who is looking at Damian with a haunted shadow in his eyes.

“You’re Robin?” There’s something gentle about the way he asks Damian that, which pulls Damian away from the Spoiler accusation he had just started.

“That was mean, Oracle.” Cass gives Barbra a flat, unimpressed glare.

And Steph? Oh she just cackles at the funniest coincidence she’s ever had the good fortune to be a part of.

“So do you know the flight attendants or did you just out us to two complete strangers?” Steph asks the lady she now knows to be Oracle, and apparently Barbara had paid her roommates to come pretend to be flight attendants when she’d seen the other passengers.

The next nine hours were full of shop talk about Gotham, promised team ups, and the mission they had all been on in Singapore.

Tim had known making sure this was the only flight to the US for the next day and a half was an amazing idea.

[moonsthoughtsandfeels]

Day in and day out I’m taking care of our almost 8 month old. Been doing that almost since the day she was born. There was a week or so that I went back to work full time but since I quit back in January it’s been me non stop.

Lately I started going back to work early as hell in the mornings before you go to work that way it’s still all me taking care of her. So there I go 230/3am till 7/ 730 just to make enough money to buy her diapers, wipes, clothes, pay my rent, pay my car, bills, and feed us all.

Still breastfeeding too btw. Full time doing that. When she wakes up in the middle of the night it doesn’t disrupt your sleep but it does mine. And when I’m working you rock her back to sleep, why isn’t that done when I’m here? I must not be deserving of normal sleep any more cause I’m a mom.

And then our day starts . 8/830 we get up, change your diaper, go play in the living room, make you a little something to eat, clean you up, play a little more and then put you down for the first nap. The baby only sleeps half an hour . So now it’s 10/30 , we get up change another diaper, get the baby dressed it non sleep clothes, do her hair, play, make her a real breakfast, feed her and myself, depending on how dirty she got I’ll either change her outfit again or do a mini bath. After that we play some more, then put her down for her second nap, another 30-45 minutes go by and during that nap I’m cleaning up the mess from making breakfast and the mess the baby made eating breakfast. This includes sweeping, mopping, dishes, wiping the counters, high chair, and table. Now she’s awake and it’s 1/130 change another diaper this time it’s poop. Go to the living room, play, feed you puréed baby food and an ice pop for your teeth, clean the baby up again, another diaper change, more play, and then nap again around 330/4 now when the baby wakes up you’re finally on your way home or you just got home. I change the diaper, go to the living room, hear about your day, go pee in peace for the first time today, then clean up whatever other mess is in the house, do laundry, clean up the patio, fold her laundry, take out the trash, do my own laundry, clean up our room, clean up her room, clean up whatever else needs to be cleaned because that’s what it’s like having a baby, every day something needs to be cleaned because clothes pile up, dishes pile up, trash piles up, dust piles up, dirt piles up, every single day I do something to keep the house up.

You take a nap. From what you always say is an easy job. From being tired from gaming at night and not sleeping instead. You took this new position and help out even less than you did before. At least you would get out early before so that gave more time for me to do things like laundry so you can watch the baby. But now I get to do everything with her and by myself.

If we broke up, not much would be different, I already feel like a single parent. I’m 95% of this relationship. I plan the dates, I pay for 90% of our things including groceries, take out food, baby clothes, diapers, wipes and entertainment. It’s me doing and being everything.

Im supposed to be grateful because you cook dinner or breakfast?

You should be grateful that the dishes are clean to cook. You should be grateful the floors are clean to walk on. You should be grateful I bought the groceries. You should be grateful. But at this point I feel taken advantage of.

I’ve talked to you about this before. I told you I feel like I’m alone in all this, and things changed for a week or 2 and now we’re back to where it was before. And like I said before I’m not going to leave you because leaving you means I’ll have to not see the baby if we share time. And I’d rather be with my daughter. It sucks to feel this way, and though our days aren’t consumed with keeping the house up, a lot of my day is. Don’t you think I’d rather be relaxing on the couch playing video games instead of picking up trash that you left? Or sweeping up all the dirt we trailed in from being outside?

If you see something that isn’t in the right place why don’t you fix it?

Because you expect me to do it. I’ve made you too comfortable and now you won’t change. It’s too bad for our daughter cause of you this is the kind of man she’s going to look for too. This is the expectation we’re setting up for her.

[spilledkauffie]

Dating Bruce Wayne HCs 🦇

xFemale!Reader // I just really love my batbaby, I wrote this for comfort at 3am. Sorry, it’s a little long!

Penthouse / The Mansion — when Bruce starts dating you he very quickly offers you a key to his penthouse and the mansion. While he means it out of trust and care for you, he also means it as a form of safety. Knowing that you can find a refuge in one of his safe houses makes him feel a little more at ease when things get seriously dangerous in the city. Once or twice he’s even sent you specifically to the mansion since it’s farther away from the inner city and he knows you’ll be safest there. || “you’re sure about this?” You question, amazed that Gotham’s richest Just handed over the keys to his house, “I mean I’m absolutely flattered, but I not allowed to just come over anytime-“ // “yes, you are,” Bruce assures you, “Wayne manor is as good as yours,” he shrugs with a half smile, seeing your face, “you know Alfred always likes company too.”

↳ he also explains that he really wouldn’t mind if you spent most of you time at his place. “Are you asking me to move in?” You smile, heart racing afraid he’d say no. “I don’t mean to impose, but here’s plenty of room, I’d love to have you there, after all the place could use a woman’s touch,” he blinks lovingly. “And so could you, Master Wayne,” Alfred comments walking by.

Driving the Lamborghini — you were shocked when he let you drive after you commented how much you loved his car. “Really?” You smiled, eyebrows raised, “but what if something happens- I- I won’t try to cause anything, but just what if-“ Bruce just smiles, looking over to you from the passenger seat, “if anything goes wrong, I’ll buy a new one, okay? Don’t worry, just have some fun.”

When You Found Out — Gotham isn’t a hard place to find yourself endangered in. Therefore when the Dark Knight showed up in the nick of time you found it curious that of all the crime situations he’d save you. It all made sense however when he dropped the gravely voice to quietly ask you, “are you okay?” // it took you a moment, looking over what you could see of his face, meeting his eyes you knew exactly who it was “Bruce?!” You say shocked, but he just repeats the question softly, “y-yeah, I’m okay, a little shook up, but-” // “I’m taking you back to stay with Alfred for the rest of the night. I promise I’ll explain everything in the morning.”

Falling asleep — since Bruce is usually up all night and still manages to make himself available for any Wayne company meetings, he is tired! More often than not he’ll fall asleep during the daytime hours. || frequently, you’ll be reading on the couch and he’ll come rest his head in your lap, hooking an arm under your knee and using your thighs as a pillow, before questioning what you’re reading. When you tell him he asks you to read aloud, naturally doing so, you stroke your free hand through his hair, gently fluffing it every now and then. Eventually, you hear him softly breathing, sound asleep. Typically you’ll stop reading aloud and just let him sleep in quiet.

↳ sometimes when you had plans for a day, you opt to cancel them based on how tired he is when he gets back. Finding him in his study, practically falling asleep at his desk, you let him know you’ll be staying home. Standing next to his chair, you tenderly reach your hand across his shoulders, rubbing them, when he stirs you tell him, “What? No, but you really wanted to go-“ he starts, sitting up a little more, looking up at you sweetly. “Bruce, I just want to spend time with you,” you almost laugh at how determined he is to wear himself out, “I don’t want to exhaust you, I really don’t mind staying home, as long as you’re home.” With that he pulls you into his lap; you reach your arms around his shoulders and he nuzzles against your chest, arms snug around your waist. You don’t mind one bit that he falls asleep, you just play with the tops of his hair stroking the back of his neck, hugging him a little closer, simply glad that he’s home & safe.

Hyper-protective — naturally, Bruce is extremely protective of you. Bruce has a really good understanding of independence, but he also knows the kind of guys in the elite society of Gotham (aka the people you’ll meet at parties he’s invited to). He’s always at your side, and loves to have you at his side at all times. Someone gets a little too friendly and Bruce is phenomenal at shutting them down. Typically they’ll only verbally address you, but should they ever try anything it’s a comfort knowing Bruce could, well, kick their ass if they laid so much as a finger on you.

Parties — Bruce can always tell when you’re feeling uncomfortable in the high-class society, you start leaning into him more and more, getting gradually more clingy as the night goes on. Bruce is a master as getting out of situations with easy excuses, so when he gives ones without you having to ask you fall in love just a little bit more.

Long Nights in the Batcave — after you found out, there are some nights you just can’t sleep knowing Bruce is out there getting into Heaven knows what kind of danger. Alfred often finds you sitting up in the Batcave with a hot cup of tea or sometimes coffee, so you can stay awake. Alfred’s become you buddy at staying up, most of the time, rarely he calls it a night, but when he does it’s usually because Bruce told him it was going to be an easy mission or it was just investigative. Alfred asks if you’re going to retire as well, “I know he would want me to just go to bed and not worry,” you admit, pulling your knees into yourself more, “but I just can’t help but worry about him.” Alfred watches you keeping a keen eye on the the tracking screen, “I know what you mean, I’m glad he’ll have someone much prettier to come back to now though.”

↳ when Bruce finds you sitting alone in the Batcave upon his return, he’s both relieved to see you and mildly frustrated that you didn’t get any sleep all thanks to him. “I thought you said you were going to try and get some sleep,” he calls to you, slipping off the mask as he makes his way over to you. “I was just worried,” you say in a small voice, sniffling, pressing the tea cup closer to your chest, in an attempt for some warmth in the cave. Sighing quietly, Bruce looked you over, “you should head upstairs, you’re freezing, I can tell.” Despite his efforts, you tell him you’ll wait until he’s ready too. So, Bruce wraps the heavy velvet cape around your shoulder in the meantime.

Aftercare — unlike some heroes, Bruce has the scars to prove it. He comes home bruised, bleeding, sometimes worse. You do everything you can to help with his injuries, even if that means just holding an icepack to the middle of his back. // Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bruce rests his forearms on his thighs, bending over slightly as you gently press the ice filled bag to his raspberry tinted shoulder. When he grumbles at the cold, you whisper "sorry" stroking up and down his bicep with your free hand as you pepper kisses across his back. Bruce takes your hand in his, turns to kiss your knuckles, and whispers against your skin, "thank you, somehow it feels better with you."

Aftermath — Bruce is usually a little more clingy after a serious fight with some injuries. He's thinking about what he could have lost, you, and if you'd lost him how guilty he would feel knowing he left you alone. Typically he also takes a night or two off, to recover, in which you can actually have some normalcy (save for him going down to the Batcave) in life. You stay with him in bed while he sleeps in, cuddling him until he wakes up and even then. You also help Alfred make him breakfast in bed, so he can take it easy for just a little while longer. // When it's really bad, you even take off work to stay with him. Combing his hair out of his face, you're the first thing Bruce wakes up to, "hey,. . .aren't you supposed to be downtown?" he asks, still groggy. "I took a few days off," you explain. "Did you tell him you were nursing Batman back to health?" He laughs. "No," you sigh, "I told him Bruce Wayne would buy out his business if he didn't give me two days off," you smile. "Oh, that makes things much easier then," Bruce kisses your wrist smiles up at you.

Batman voice — it has definitely happened once or twice, where Bruce will accidentally use the "Batman voice" on you, not even in arguments, but just in everyday things. Smiling widely after he address you with it, you turn with your hands on your hips, "did you just use your batman voice on me?" you nearly laugh, "what. . . no," he tries to cover up. "You totally did!" You laugh this time. "No-" but before he can finish his sentence you're already mimicking his batman voice standing in your most macho stance, walking towards him between giggles, "alright, alright," Bruce grabs you by the waist, pulling you close, "it just slipped out."

Daytime Sex — since he's preoccupied during the night (or at least most nights), Bruce usually manages to steal you away from whatever you're doing for awhile. He starts out fairly subtle, coming up behind you whilst you're working on your laptop, he moves your hair to one side and begins kissing the side of your neck softly. "Mmm, hi," you giggle, biting in your lower lip. "Hi," he noses your hair, "how busy are you?" You smile, looking over your shoulder as his hands slip down your sides, "how busy do you want me to be?" He pulls back, "with work? Not very. With me? Very." Naturally he sweeps you off your feet to the bedroom, or at least a bedroom when you're at the manor.

[adoringhaikyuu]

you have a nightmare that they cheated on you

characters: akaashi + iwaizumi + oikawa + (gn!reader)

request: hi! can I request a headcanon where akaashi, iwaizumi, and oikawa wake up to you having a nightmare that they cheated on you? something fluffy please 🙏🏼🥺 • by @vitamingummies

warnings: mentions of cheating ig but it doesn’t actually happen obvi– + a lil bit of angst

notes: hope u enjoy <3 i tried to make them all a bit different! (i don’t think i’ll do anymore of these tho cause i feel like i’ve run out of possibilities for it to go)

akaashi:

akaashi stirred awake slightly when he felt you moving around on your side of the bed

he was half asleep, drifting in and out

and he felt the bed dip as you got up, which he assumed meant that you were going to the bathroom

but once he realized it’d been a while since you left, he checked the time, 3am 

he got up to go look for you, wiping his eyes sleepily

he went to the bathroom and frowned when the lights were off and you were nowhere to be found

he slugged off to the kitchen, then the living room and was shocked to see you sitting there in the dark, wrapped up in a blanket

“baby?” his voice was deep and groggy as he padded over to you, yawning before continuing. “what are you doing out here?” 

you noticed him, but didn’t look up, trying to hide your face from him, which, even in his drowsy state, he knew was a bad sign. 

he bent down in front of you and felt the fatigue jump out of his body when he realized you had tears falling down your cheeks. “what’s wrong? what happened?” he brought his hands to your cheeks and tried to wipe the tears, but more kept falling seemingly at a faster rate once he touched you. 

he tried to catch your eye, but you wouldn’t let him. “come on baby, please talk to me? i’m not going anywhere until i figure out what’s wrong.” 

he sat down next to you and pulled you into his lap, making sure the blanket was secure before holding you tight and running his hand up and down your side soothingly. 

when your cries had reduced to sniffles and you calmed down a bit, you spoke up, playing with the collar of akaashi’s shirt to distract yourself. “i just...it’s stupid––”

he interrupted immediately, “of course it’s not stupid, if it made you this upset then we should talk about it. i wanna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

you nodded and swallowed, psyching yourself up to reveal everything to him. “well i––i had a dream, no, a nightmare really,” you laughed humorlessly. “where you um...you left me? well that was after you cheated on me but...” you felt him take a deep breath, “it just felt so real, you know? it hurt like a lot and then i woke up because it was so painful and i guess...the emotions carried through even after i left the dream.” you sighed, “i’m sorry i didn’t mean to worry you, i just...i don’t know, i needed to clear my head, i guess.” 

a few seconds passed before you felt a gentle hand under your chin, raising your head. you finally looked into akaashi’s eyes and he spoke up. “baby, i’m sorry that you experienced that, even if it was just a dream. just hearing about it hurts me too.” he swiped his thumb over your cheek and you nuzzled into his touch. “but know that i would never ever do that to you, i could never hurt you like that and i won’t, okay?” he waited for you to nod in agreement before nodding as well and pulling you into a hug. “i’m here to love and protect you, remember that.” he kissed your cheek but didn’t let you out of the hug. 

“are you better now?” again, he waited for you to nod. “let’s go back to bed, yeah?” he hugged you tight. “i’m not letting you go tonight.” 

iwaizumi:

iwaizumi grunted, confused when he felt you moving around more than usual behind him, 

no longer wrapped around him with one leg over his waist like how you had fallen asleep

when he heard you mumble a few things under your breath, he thought maybe you were just dreaming 

but when he heard a whimper of his name, followed by “please no––”

he turned around immediately, and turned on his bedside lamp, concerned and alert

he noticed that your face looked like it was in pain, like you were hurt

he put a hand on your cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb

“wake up sweetheart.”

you shook your head from side to side, seemingly wrestling with what you were seeing in your nightmare

he kissed your forehead, “come on, come back to me. open your eyes for me baby.”

he shook your side a few times and you finally opened your eyes, but he frowned when he noticed the pain still hadn’t left your face

his eyes widened when you suddenly threw yourself into his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck, sniffling as you blinked the tears away. he wrapped his arms around you immediately, “hey it’s okay, i’m here. you’re safe.” 

he rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly and whispered reassuring things in your ear, kissing your temple every now and then. 

after a few minutes of holding you, he spoke up. “do you wanna tell me what happened in your nightmare? i’m right here, nothing bad’s gonna happen i promise.” 

your hand came up to hold the side of his jaw and neck and you sat up slightly, but he made sure to keep you secure and not let you run off, not that you were going to. “um...well i was coming over to your house cause we had a date night planned...” you trailed off slightly and felt his hand rub your thigh reassuringly. you sighed, “the door was unlocked so i came in, and i noticed another girl’s shoes in by the door?” you felt him stiffen under you but you went on. “so i went to find you, to ask you about it...but when i got to your room, you were...on top of her, and you can...fill in the blanks i’m guessing...” 

he opened his mouth to say something but you spoke before he could. “and you don’t have to apologize or anything, i know it wasn’t you and you wouldn’t do that...it just felt real and that really hurt me. but i’m sure i’ll get over it soon.” you tried to smile but it felt like a grimace more than anything and iwaizumi sighed. you mistook it for annoyance and your eyes widen, “oh i’m sorry, you’re probably tired, i’ll just––”

you tried to get off his lap but he stopped you, confused. “no, darling i don’t care what time it is, this is important. i only sighed because i don’t like how you’re pretending to be okay when you’re not.” he put a hand under your chin, “it’s okay if you’re not okay. but i’m here for you, to help you feel better, yeah?” he kissed your nose lightly. “you have nothing to apologize for, and i know you said i don’t either, but i’m sorry that i hurt you, even if it was in a dream.”

you smiled for real this time and kissed his cheek, making him blush lightly. “you’re too sweet to me, you know that?”

his brows furrowed, “not possible.” he gave you a quick peck on the lips and lied you back down on the bed with a small smile before turning off the light. he slid back in with you and put his arm around your waist to pull you close. “you ready to sleep?” 

you nodded, “do you mind cuddling me until i fall asleep?”

“of course not, but you’re funny if you think i’m letting you go at all, even in my sleep.” 

oikawa:

oikawa was sleeping peacefully, rolling over to wrap his arm around you and pull you close and his brows furrowed when you swung his arm back to his side, but he stayed asleep

he kept sleeping even after you repeated this three more times 

but when you did it one more time, this time with more force, he whined and blinked his eyes open slowly

“y/n-chaaan, let me hold you~”

you simply huffed and kept staring in front of you, into the darkness of your room, your arms and legs crossed as you sat up against the headboard

you don’t even know how long you’d been awake, it was 4am, but you couldn’t be bothered to care

as soon as you saw oikawa with his tongue down another girl’s throat, while she sat in his lap, you were so mad you couldn’t think

...this was in a dream of course, and you know that––

but it still pissed you off

“wha––” oikawa leaned up on one arm to get a better look at you and make sure he wasn’t imagining things. “what are you doing up?” he turned his head to look at the clock on the nightstand, “wh––four a.m??” he turned back to you dramatically, and while normally you would’ve found it amusing, today was a different day. 

you felt oikawa drag himself to a sitting position as he stared at you frantically and utterly confused. “what is going on here??” when you didn’t respond, his shoulders drooped down and he placed a hand on your thigh which you quickly slapped off. he squawked, “baby??–”

“you don’t get to call me that.” 

his head bobbed back, offended. “what do you mean?! what happened in the hours that i was asleep?” 

again, you stayed silent and of course, he kept talking. “y/n-chan you can’t just not tell me what’s wrong, this is outrageous!” 

you sat there, brewing in your annoyance for a few moments before cutting off his rant, voice completely monotone. “you cheated on me.” 

there was a brief silence, a moment of processing before he exploded. “i’m sorry, what?! i most certainly did not! what are you talking about ?! i am loyal!”

you shrugged, only fueling the fire and his eyes widened. “what do you mean?” he imitated your shrug mockingly, “where did you get this insane theory from?!” 

he was talking far too loud for 4am, and you did not want a visit from the neighbors. “tooru––”

“tooru?! who is that?! i’m baby! love! your loyal boyfriend! soon to be husband when we’re ready!––”

you finally turned to him, “you’re being too loud! it’s four am––”

he glared but lowered his voice, maybe a fraction. “y/n-chan you are not gliding over your preposterous accusation like this––why on earth do you think i cheated?!”

you blinked, unfazed. “i saw it.” 

“that’s impossible because it never happened!”

“yes it did! i saw your tongue go down her fucking throat and your hands were all over her and she was in your lap, tooru. that’s why i woke up because i saw it and i got mad. how dare you do that––” 

“i’m telling you that never happened! i don’t know who you saw but it wasn’t––wait.” he blinked a few times and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. “did you say you saw it and you woke up? are you talking about a dream??” 

you clenched your jaw, “more like nightmare but that’s irrelevant, the point is you cheated–”

“y/n-chaaan––” he threw himself on you and wrapped his arms around you, ignoring your protests. he placed his head on your lap and looked up at you, with a pout. “you scared me! i thought you were really mad at––”

“i am mad at you.” 

“what?! but it wasn’t even real!”

“dream tooru and real tooru are basically the same.” 

“when are you going to stop calling me that?” he frowned, giving you puppy dog eyes and you groaned, slapping a hand over his face (gently), but he still yelped anyways.

“don’t look at me like that.”

he took your hand off and kissed your palm softly. “why, is it working?” 

you sighed and looked away. “...i know it wasn’t real but it still hurt seeing you like that, you know? that’s why i was so annoyed––it wasn’t even real but it still affected me so much.” 

he sat up against the headboard and pulled you into his lap, pleased to see you weren’t complaining. you placed your hands on his shoulders and kept your eyes down, focused on his chest. he squeezed your waist and ducked his head down to peck your lips, smiling victoriously when it made you smile. 

“i would never be as dumb as dream me and throw our precious relationship away, i love you way too much and value having you in my life far too much to do something like that.” he kissed your cheek, “you’re it for me, got it?”

you nodded, looking up into his eyes to see how serious he was. you could see the love he had for you. “okay...i love you baby.”

he smiled, “i love you too. so much.” he kissed you on the lips gently. “now can we please cuddle? we both need our beauty sleep.” 

[gamerwoo]

hansol: the lovers playlist

characters: hansol x female reader

genre/warnings: idol au, strangers to friends, fluff!!!

word count: 816

summary: and when the daylight comes i’ll have to go; but tonight i'm gonna hold you so close; ‘cause in the daylight we’ll be on our own; but tonight i need to hold you so close.

a/n: things in bold are in english

previous song | next song | back to playlist

“Oh, shit. I should probably get back to my dorm.”

Hansol’s eyes suddenly leave the TV that’s displaying the results of the last round of Smash, looking up at you as you stand from the couch. You didn’t realize how late it had gotten since you’d been so preoccupied with video games with Hansol, Wonwoo, and Mingyu.

“Oh, wow,” Wonwoo’s eyes widened as he checked his phone. “Yeah, we should probably be getting to bed.”

Mingyu stood from the couch and offered a warm smile, “Do you need someone to walk you to the door?”

“Uh, I might call a cab or something,” you shrugged. “It’s dark and I didn’t drive here, so…”

Hansol had met you at your dorm and the two of you had been taking the train around the city all day. You didn’t need a car, but you also didn’t expect to go back to his dorm to play video games with his bandmates for the last five hours.

“Well…w-why don’t you stay here,” Hansol suggested suddenly.

You, Wonwoo, and Mingyu all gave Hansol a quizzical look.

“Wait, really?” you asked. “Is…that allowed?”

“Technically,” Wonwoo shrugged, “but we have–”

“It’s fine,” Hansol waved his hand at whatever worry Wonwoo was going to point out. “_____, you can crash here tonight if you don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow.”

It didn’t really take long for you to consider the offer, shrugging as you replied, “Nah, we have the day off tomorrow. I’m down if it won’t get you in trouble.”

“What’re you worried about?” Mingyu smirked. “Think the managers will get the wrong idea?”

“Even if they did, there’s no dating ban,” Hansol scoffed, “and I’d set the record straight. I never lie to the managers so they always believe what I say – unlike some people.”

Wonwoo shrugged while Mingyu scratched the back of his head.

“Sometimes lying is necessary for a good time,” was all Wonwoo said.

But that was how you ended up laying beside Hansol on his bed, staring up at the ceiling at 3am. The light in his room was off, however he had a small rock lamp still turned on and radiating a warm orangey glow. The two of you had been changing positions on the bed as you talked and laughed and talked some more, but you were currently on your backs beside each other, laying sideways on his bed as you stared at the ceiling. Hansol had some sphere thing that projected stars and constellations on the ceiling, so that was what was holding your attention in the moment of silence that had fallen after your last conversation about what you’d be doing had neither of you become idols. He had music playing as a soft humming in the background, but you vaguely made out the lyrics of a Maroon 5 song.

‘I never want it to stop because I don’t wanna start all over, start all over. I was afraid of the dark but now it’s all that I want, all that I want, all that I want.’

“You have a schedule tomorrow, don’t you?” you asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Wonwoo was going to say you have something when you invited me to stay. I assumed it was something like ‘we have schedules tomorrow’.”

“Worse,” Hansol chuckled shortly. “We’re going to Japan tomorrow.”

Your head turned to see Hansol was already looking at you, “Japan…?”

“We released a Japanese mini album that we’re promoting,” he explained. “We’ll be in Japan for the next month.”

You felt a pang of sadness. Hansol had become your best friend. You hung out all the time, you’d become friendly with his members, and you were happy and comfortable around him. Outside your group, he was the only close friend you had. What were you supposed to do without him for a month?

But another thought popped into your head.

“Wait, you have to get up early to get on a plane, but you’re still awake at 3am,” you pointed out. “Hansol, go the fuck to sleep! You should’ve told me!”

He laughed as you whacked his face with a pillow, taking it off of his face and tossing it back to the head of the bed.

“_____, I’m not going to see you for a month,” he stated. “No hanging out, no late night drives, no nothin’.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware,” you deadpanned.

“So I didn’t say anything because I didn’t wanna sleep,” he admitted with a soft smile, warm brown eyes looking into yours. “I wanted to spend time with you before I left. You’re my best friend and I’ll miss you.”

God, it was like you were in some romcom or something. This whole moment was exactly like that, and it made your heart flutter how it would if you were watching it on a screen.

You offered a smile to match his, “I’ll miss you, too.”

[n1k1tty]

kiss me ! part 2

“hawaii!” niki yells, throwing as fist in the air as he enters the van “riki, it’s 3am in the morning, please shut up” jay retorts, going back to sleep as he leans on the window

as if it was almost planned, you and jake sat beside each other at the furthest seat. it was complicated, you didn’t know if you were comfortable or not, you felt tense, afraid of jake’s teasing if you touch him even the slightest. yet you also didn’t want to leave your seat.

you let out a huff, trying to find a position where you could comfortably sleep in. you were spooked at the sudden hand that leans your head on their shoulders “you can sleep on my shoulders, it’s alright” jake chuckles, already drifting to sleep the second after he did that “thanks” you mumble, easing into his warmth.

you laugh a little at his aching figure “this is funny to you? after i’ve been so kind to let you sleep on my shoulder?” he pouts “i deserve a long massage during our flight” he jokes, continuing to carry your bags.

dumbfounded by the fact that you stayed with him, giving him a glance filled with guilt “y/n seriously, i’m fine. it’ll go away sooner or later” he reassures you, his heart exploding at the sight of you with glimmering eyes, feeling the guilt you expressed them with.

“what do you wanna eat for breakfast?” you mumble, taking the luggage cart from his grasp. he laughs at your attempt to make him feel better “sorry? didnt quite hear that well” he teases, making you give him a glare, almost forgetting that he was ‘injured’ you raise your hand to almost give him a punch “good thing you’re hurting or i would’ve punched your ass back to australia” you roll your eyes “you heard what i said!” eyebrows frowning as you look away “alright alright, i’m fine with coffee really—” he lets out a breathy chuckle, dragging his feet as he follows you around “—nonsense! breakfast is important. don’t give me that type of bullshit sim” you cut him off, stopping by a little restaurant as you tell the other members to go ahead “im getting you pancakes. better finish it or you’re not living to see another day”

he laughs “this is quite a unique way to care for someone don’t you think” you roll your eyes "eat the damn pancakes sim jaeyun"

"yas ma'am"

--

after everyone had met up, you all started finding your seats. you were bewildered, somehow, because now you found yourself wanting to switch seats with sunghoon for obvious reasons. but of course, you --again, didn't have the guts to do so.

a few hours into the flight and a few glances from jake here and there, you received a message

jake :):

hey pretty girl, do me a favour and go to the washroom behind you

you:

and why exactly?

jake :):

no questions asked. i just miss you ;)

you swore you wanted to jump off the plane. pretty girl?! he misses me?!. you feel the heat creeping up in your face as you asked jungwon "hey, could you get up of a sec. i gotta go to the washroom" you whisper, mumbling a small 'thank you' before you walked to the washroom.

you felt a hand pull you "hey" he giggles, arms wrapped around your waist "you scared me! i thought i was getting abducted" you slap his shoulder. although you would be lying if you said you didn't want to just grab him and kiss him right at this moment.

he looked so good with his button up shirt, showing off his collar bones, neck wearing the beaded necklace you made for him during the summer and your birthstone necklace. his hair was messy, and you couldn't deny how hot he looked with his glasses on.

"you should consider buttoning up" you hesitantly say, looking anywhere but his eyes. of course he catches on to your intentions, but he felt like pissing you off "why? i'm showing off your necklace" he giggles "i even bought your birthstone" he grabs the necklace with his thumb, making you roll your eyes as you cross your arms, making sim jaeyun giggle.

he places his hand under your chin, finally letting you looking at him "switch seats with sunghoon please. i don't think i like the sight of you sleeping on jungwon's shoulders" now it was your time to piss him off.

"why?" you pout, "his shoulders are so comfortable, and we don't want your shoulders aching again now do we?" you give him a slight smile, well it wasn't like you weren't planning to switch with sunghoon way before the flight even started anyway.

jake rolls his eyes "that leaves you no choice--"

"can y'all hurry up? i'll switch with you y/n gosh! just let me pee!" sunghoon bangs on the door, making jake laugh "well that was easy"

--

oh how you regret changing seats.

because now you get to fully witness the flight attendants obviously flirting with him.

"good morning sir" she annoyingly giggles, biting her lip as she leans in way too close. jake leans back, letting out a small laugh out of politeness "hi, yeah i'd like..." he orders his food while you glare at the girl who's been displeasingly close to him "what can i get for you ma'am?"

"oh my girlfriend would like the same thing" jake interrupts, giving you a sly wink after placing his hand on top of yours. you let out a small scoff after seeing the disappointed look on the girl as she hands you the food. your skips a beat. girlfriend? you thought

now he was starting to piss you off. he was doing everything but ask you out. and with every ounce of pride you had in your soul, you hated to admit that you were starting to get really impatient. were you not obvious about your feelings? was the handmade necklace and the concern you have for him not obvious enough?

"ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hawaii" the pilot announces, after you got your hand carry, you didn't even bother waiting for jake. immediately walking out of the plane, causing him to tilt his head out of confusion.

he didn't get a chance to talk to you, i mean, how could he when you would immediately start walking away from him whenever he tried to walk towards you.

as you sat beside jay in the tour bus, he gives you a weird look "why are you here" you give him a lost look "can i not...?" that's when he knew something happened between you and jake "y/n if this is because of jake--" you place your hand on his mouth, leaning way too close. but luck wasn't on your side today, because jake saw.

"shut up please! and yes! it is about him. so please spare me and let me sit here for the meantime" jay chuckles, "jake's going to kill me for this" he mumbles, leaning back to the chair "what?"

"nothing" he gives you a grin

--

after you guys arrived to jay's beach house you immediately grab your bag before jake could help you

"alright riki and sunoo are sharing a room, jungwon and heeseung are sharing, and...." jay looks at you, sunghoon and jake, not knowing what to do "you three figure it out. i'm just letting you know one gets to have their own room" jay starts to head to his own room, shrugging his shoulders as he walks past you with widened eyes.

"we already know what's about to happen. i'm getting my own room-"

"no!" you yell

"yes!" jake yells in unison,

"well......" sunghoon stood there, waiting for the both of you to talk "well, i just think i should get the room since you know-- i'm a girl and-- you and jake are best friends so you should be roommates" you explain, giving sunghoon an awkward smile "yeah sure whatever- ow!" jake hits sunghoon in the arm "you idiot! take the goddamn room!" jake grits through his teeth "you know what y/n! i change my mind. i uh, i think im going to take the room"

"why?!" you whisper with a harsh tone. poor sunghoon "IM GOING TO JERK OFF OR SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW" he yells, although he regrets it after the maids give him a weird look "ayo what?" heeseung peaks through the door "nothing! i didn't mean that. just --ugh! i'm heading out" he grabs his luggage, stomping through the hallways as he walks to the room. leaving you with jake.

--

you were about to have a mental breakdown "jay! you're seriously not helping me at all!" you give him a shove "ow! you need to control your strength sometimes! and i'm sorry okay? i just panicked, and i think you and jake being roommates wouldn't be a mistake. it's better to fix your problems instead of just sweeping it under the rug. you can't avoid him forever y/n" he was right. and you knew that. but you couldn't bring yourself to tell jake what was bothering you. even the thought of it was embarrassing, because what if he wasn't even intending to date you at all?

you walk back to the room, hesitating whether you should open it or not. but after hearing no noise, you open the door "AH OH MY GOD SORRY--" there you saw a shirtless jake, hair wet and his glasses having a few drops of water from his hair. he grabs your hand before you could walk out again "y/n, please talk to me" he places his hands on both sides of your shoulders "did i do something wrong? whatever it is, i'm really sorry" he panics, slightly pouting at the silent treatment you gave him "jake i-"

"dinners ready!" riki barges in, freezing at the sight of you two "oh- hey! riki, let's go!" you grab his arm, walking towards the dining room "please don't mention it" you whisper, sitting in between riki and jay.

jake later follows, now in his grey shirt and the checkered pajamas he wore earlier, he gives you a small smile before sitting next to heeseung.

"so, sunghoon. did you have fun?" heeseung teases

"shut up!"

--

"this wasn't going as planned anymore!" jake groans, he was currently in jay's room, ranting his frustrations out while jay listened. when jake had heard about the trip to hawaii, he originally planned to confess when you guys went to the party, it's not like the party had already happened, but it was already tomorrow "i already apologized, yet she still wouldn't speak"

"do you even know why she's mad?" jay asked, leaning on the bad with his arms as he watched jake pacing around his room "...no?"

"jake sim you idiot"

it was 1 am in the morning and you finally finished playing games with riki and heeseung. you were hesitating to open the door once again. afraid of letting the incident happen once more. you knock lightly, hoping that he was there and you could finally make up

but before you could open the door, jake already opened it. immediately embracing you "please talk to me" he whispers gently in your ear. you couldn't help but burst out crying, causing him to panic, he caresses your hair "let's go for a walk yeah?" he grabs your wrist, his touch so gentle as if you were fragile.

he wipes your tears as you walk along the shore "i missed you. you know?" he holds your hand as you both drag your feet along the sand. you hit him on his shoulder "ow!"

"that's what you get!" you sniffle, looking at the reflection of the moon on the sea "what did i do?" he chuckles, searching for your eyes. he tilts his head when you don't respond "hello?"

"cause! you always flirt with me, calling me your girlfriend and hugging me! i hate it! i hate it because my heart always skips a beat every time and i always expect you to ask me out soon yet you never do!" you yell, your skin was glowing under the moonlight. jake was in awe the moment he saw your glistening eyes that had tears threatening to fall.

he had the sudden urge to kiss you and tell you how he felt.

and he did. because jake was a man who never doubted his feelings when it came to you.

he pulls you by the waist, causing you to let out a yelp. his lips touches yours, and it stayed like that for a while, to make up for the moments he wasted without you this whole vacation. you wrap your hands around his neck, playing with his hair

"can i be your boyfriend?" he cheekily says, his smile making you smile as well "suck my ass. sim jaeyun. yes, i'd love for you to be my boyfriend"

"i'd gladly suck your a--"

"sim jaeyun!"

--

[bonus bcs i haven't posted in a while]

it was the morning of the party, you were in jake's arms "finally you're awake! good morning!" he excitedly says, peppering you with kisses "the guys are in the pool so get changed" he informs you, smacking your ass as soon as you got up "getting too comfortable for our first day aren't we?" you tilt your head, giving him a smirk "can't help it" he send a wink your way.

as soon as you got out in your swimsuit, jake's mouth drops "do a little turn for me" he smirks, twirling you around as he hypes you up "holy shit! i'm so lucky aren't i" he checks you out, earning a smack from you "ow! alright but i'm not letting them check you out like that! wear my shirt"

(he didn't let you go from the jacuzzi after heeseung hyped you up lol)

--

[party]

you told jake to go ahead, wanting to surprise him with the dress you bought.

after arriving to the party jake almost dropped the drink he had in his hand after he saw you. he was smiling so hard when the little girl put a Lei (flower neck lace) on you. he felt so proud when the other men at the party look at you giving him a hug

"that's right, she's mine" he thought

after you walked to wards him he grabs you by the waist "you look so pretty in red" he says, hugging you tightly "is that so?" you ask, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, making him all giddy

--

part 1

taglist: @zylenes @hwalllllllelujah @theskzvibe

HI GUYS :D. i will be posting the visuals for this fic so pls wait :)

[spencersmagic]

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

**

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

**

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

**

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :) 

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x​ @spencerreid-mgg​​ @eoupe​ @inlovewithbabygirl​ @galaxydefenderjulia​ @username2002​

[kunimikat]

Hi-!! Can I get Kenma HCs? 👉👈

Okay so I wasn’t sure if you meant general ‘Kenma just being Kenma’ HCs or relationship HCs so I did both I also added a lil imagine at the end 😺 (this isn’t fully proof read but there should be small mistakes only)

Requests are open!

When you and Kenma first got together, he was genuinely surprised how little you cared about how other people felt about you guys together

He’d always feel insecure when the sly remarks like ‘Wow Y/N and Kenma? I never imagined.’ Or ‘Y/N is probably just with him out of pity.’ would be whispered around him

Just every jab someone could get out they said it loud enough for him to hear it.

But by the time he’d try to ignore what they’re saying and think about it later, your either cussing them out, ignoring them, or ignoring them and kissing him instead

And Kenma wasn’t complaining

He wasn’t a fan of PDA other then holding hands but there are acceptions (ahem^) But most of the time he’s only hugging you when he as small anxiety attacks in public

Kenma has mostly oversized hoodies and tends to pick at his sleeves when he gets nervous so just know when you steal his hoodies be careful

If you get one of the loose strings caught on something that hoodie is becoming threads in seconds.

He really likes it if you play with his hands of fingers, or when he’s gaming if you wrap your legs from behind him and just be there together he really enjoys it

But don’t lay in his lap because he will bonk you on the head on accident if he rages

Without even realizing it Kenma sometimes goes on about you to Kuroo or Hinata, but by the time he realizes it he blushes at the smug looks on their faces

One time you face planted and Kenma laughed so hard he lost his voice, but I kind of ended up good because he cuddled with you the entire healing time

When you want to go outside with him it’s either shopping, looking for new games, or talking while bumping a volleyball over to each other

Sometimes you’d catch Kenma randomly scrunching his nose up while you’re about to sleep to in class while you guys are doing your work

You didn’t know why he did it until he told you that he’d think about something he regretted and he just:

Kenma regularly FaceTimes you, Kuroo, or Hinata or all of you at once to talk about a game release he’s really excited for

When he teaches you how to play a game he will either sit next to you or have his arms wrapped around you. Softly telling what buttons to press and what to do.

And once you get the hang of a game, one day he’ll just wake up and choose violence, deciding to troll the hell out of you just to get a reaction (silent cackling Kenma intestifies)

You and Kenma made a discord server together for the Nekoma team so you guys could talk regularly or just schedule hangouts

Ok but I feel like Kenma would be with someone who radiates the same energy as Hinata or Kuroo. Or someone who has both. Orrr on the other side of the spectrum where he’s with someone that’s just like ‘Whatever happens, happens.’

I mean, of course not exactly like them but Kenma is friends with both of them for a reason-

I feel like it’s canon the Kenma just glares at Lev from time to time for Lev just being...Lev, but when he gets with you it happens more often because Lev always makes it his goal to see you laugh or talk to you constantly

In which Kenma gets jealous and silently tells Yaku he slacking off

This mans is a silent menace to society and he does not care

Ok I also feel like sometimes he’d take you to a new cafe that just opened, get the most sweetest or most bitter thing there, and let you have it just to mess with you.

His way to ask you for affection is when he’d just kind of stand there next to you like ‘🧍😺’ Or just kind of expects you to initiate it in general

But when you start to do it less and less, Kenma feels like you both are starting to feel more like friends than lovers

So when you kind of leave him alone suddenly, he thinks he did something wrong and tries to make it up himself

Your eyes we’re getting tired of the flashing screen. The vibrant colors clashing and moving quickly. You blink, getting out of the trance the TV screen pulled you in. You were starting to see why Kenma got so addicted to this game. You felt your stomach rumble. You groaned a little, not wanting to leave the warm blanket wrapped around you, but feeling your stomach rumble again, you sigh and unwinded yourself from the heat, and made your way to the kitchen. Kenma felt movement but ignored it, thinking it was just you getting comfortable. But when he didn’t hear your small cheers or nudges when he won the round he looked back to see you’re not there. Slight panic rose in him. He shrugged it off at first. Though his thoughts started to get to him. Were you getting bored of him? Did you feel ignored? Wait...did you leave?

Kenma paused the game, and was out of the room in seconds. He made his way downstairs in a hurry, but instead he breathed a sigh of relief. You were rummaging through the fridge. Probably looking for something quick, but his parents haven’t went shopping so he knew it was nothing there. An idea came to his head, covering half of his face with his hand. He pursed his lips and hoped he didn’t embarrass himself.

As you were raiding looking through the fridge, you heard a small ‘fuck it’ and felt arms wrap around your waist. You looked back in shock, essentially freezing on the spot as you looked at him dumbfounded. And to be fair Kenma almost never initiated physical contact. So you just kind of looked at him. You were kind of taking in this moment. Kenma stopped breathing, his face flushed. It turning red, going down his neck.

“I-I’m sorry, that was stupid, you probably hated that. I-“

Kenma grimanced and hid his face, rushing back up to his room. You called out to him but the door was already closed when you did. You sighed in annoyance at yourself. Quickly making your way up not that long after him. You placed a hand over your heart when the door wasn’t locked. You looked into the room lit by the bright TV screen to see a hump under the fluffy cat themed blanket on the bed. You slap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. Instead you crawl onto the bed, stopping right by him. Rubbing his back, he jumped at your touch then seemingly sinking further into the mattress.

“Ken? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not respond, it’s just you usually don’t start a hug I got so surprised.”

A moment of silence passed, you hear a huff, he scooted away from you. You couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto your face, you took out your phone, snapping a picture. You laugh into your hand but go back to rubbing his back.

“Aww c’mon Ken don’t be like this, I’m sor-“

“I should be saying sorry, it’s not your fault. You probably didn’t like my scrawny arms around you anyway...I’ve also not been talking to you as much as I should and you probably hate me.”

You deadpanned at him, then yanked the blanket off him. You swore your heard a small squeal but decided to ignore it. “Y’know, you said a lot of ‘probables’. Stop assuming things without talking to me, you know I love you. I won’t ever judge you like that Kenma. Plus I expected you to be like this when we got into it in the first place. I wouldn’t get with someone I’m not attracted to Ken. So stop all that insecure stuff before I kiss it out of you.” Kenma face heated up at that, he looked anywhere but you, flustered that you said it with such confidence. You placed a hand onto his cheek. He looked shocked at first, but it was replaced by a small smile adorning his pretty features, he gently caressed your hand.

But you ultimately decided to ruin the moment when you flicked his forehead as you got up.

“Alright get your dorito dust headass up cause we’re gonna order takeout.”

Kenma held his forehead, giving you a playful glare, pouting afterwards. He got up off the bed, grabbing his phone and heading downstairs. “Whatever get your hungry ass down here so we can order something.”

“Kenma you- ugh”

Kenma felt a smile tug at his lips as you continued to bicker throughout the time you were ordering.

Hey 😺. Seriously, I enjoyed this request so I’d love to do more of these. The dorito dust insult came from a friend who just started Haikyuu and that’s what she said and it had me cackling so there you go. But enjoy some cute Kenma HCs. I was gonna make it angsty but I forgot to do Valentines so🤸 Also I did more HCs to make up for bad 3am imagine but 🤠

[tricksters-captain]

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 4

AN: I’m sorry I missed posting last week. I’m currently going through a hard break up and it’s really taking a lot of energy out of me so I struggle to write at the moment. 

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

In this chapter: You return to Boston for the week. 

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: Some strong language

You smiled as you looked at the copies of ‘Chess Review’ on the racks. 

Your first front page piece for Chess Review. 

They had used one of the pictures of Benny that you had taken at the hotel and you were pretty proud of your photography skills. 

You picked up a copy and took it inside to pay for it. 

On second thought, you picked up two so you could mail one to Angelie. 

You left the store quickly after and started to walk back to your apartment. 

Boston was busier than you had remembered and you finally had some time to sort out the apartment after your article went down well with the big man. 

You opened the door to your apartment and put down your groceries on the kitchen counter top. 

The last tenant hadn’t left the place in too bad a state, just a carpet stain here and there and a broken lamp. 

You had bought some paint to redecorate your living room and bedroom since it seemed too boring after where you lived in Paris. You had spent the last couple days painting and then you finally left to go check out your title page. 

The books that Benny had given you were still on your small two person dining room table where you had left them when you first got back. You looked over at them and furrowed your brow as you thought about whether you are actually going to bother to read them or not. 

Your phone started to ring and your frown disappeared when you realised it was probably Angelie. No one else had your number besides your work. 

“Hello?” You answered it, taking the phone off the wall as you leant beside it. 

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere after listening to it so much over the last tournament. 

“Benny Watts?” You asked, almost in shock. 

“Have you read those books I leant you yet?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm it was him. 

“It’s been four days.” You told him flatly. 

“You could’ve easily gotten through at least two of them by now.” Benny challenged you which caused you to shake your head (even though he couldn’t see). 

“You know, Benny Watts, I do have a life to live.” You defended yourself to which Benny found amusing. 

“So, you’re back in Boston since you picked up this phone.” Benny changed the subject completely. 

“How did you even get this number?” You asked, genuinely curious and a little worried. 

“You really think Chess Review won’t hand over your telephone number to their favourite US chess player?” 

“You got it from Beth Harmon then?”  You teased the boy to which he responded with a dry laughter. 

“Ha Ha. Very funny.” Benny retorted, “If you’re in Boston, it means you currently aren’t working. Fancy an educational trip to New York City?” 

“Benny, I told you. I’m not coming to New York.” You reminded him about how you declined previously when he asked. 

“Come on, just for the weekend? We’ll play some chess, do some tourist shit and eat some food?” Benny asked, trying his best to persuade you Benny Watts style. 

“I’ve also told you before that I don’t play.” You felt a small bubble of excitement in your stomach as you considered going to New York but you quickly squashed it down. 

“What are you afraid of?” Benny asked. Deja Vu. 

“Why are you pushing this?” You closed your eyes as you let your head roll back to press against the wall. 

“Because I see that same light that’s in Beth Harmon, that’s in every decent chess player when you see a chess board.” Benny confessed to you. 

“I’m sorry, Benny. You’ll just have to find someone else to play with. I don’t want to be apart of this little game.” You hung up the phone with a sad sigh before Benny could respond. 

You found yourself looking at the books again. 

You picked up Benny’s and you opened it...

“I’ve been waiting all day for your call.” You half scolded Angelie as you answered the call. 

You heard Angelie’s laughter through the phone and it made you home sick. 

“Je suis désolé!” Angie apologised. “This new project has me so busy, constantly on set, costume changes, make up changes, redoing scene..!” 

“It sounds awful.”  You chuckled, 

“It is! You wouldn’t understand... You’re just a big time American journalist.” Angelie pouted. “Anyway, how are you?” 

“I’m okay.” You lied. 

“Menteuse!” Angelie called you out. “Tell me the truth. What is bothering you, Mon Cher?” 

“Benny Watts called me today.” You had filled her in on the tournament with him once you had first arrived back in Boston and she had already previously told you off for not taking his offer to New York. 

“He did?!” Angie gasped. 

“Yes, he did. He got my number through work and called me to ask if I had read the books he gave me which I haven’t because it’s been less than a week since. the tournament.” You explained. 

“That boy is in love with you, I am telling you now.” Angie was always the hopeless romantic type. It’s how she has had her heart broke so many times. 

“The boy wants to play chess with me to assert his masculine dominance over me and boost his ego with an easy win.” You argued. 

“You are always so negative about men! You hardly know this one!” Angelie groaned. 

“He’s Benny Watts. That’s all I need to know.” 

“I think you should go to New York and meet with him.” Angelie told you. You hadn’t even informed her about the fact he asked you again. 

“I think I should stay here and enjoy my first weekend off in six months.” You shook your head at the idea. 

“(Y/n), you only live once and how many girls are invited to New York by the Benny Watts?!” 

“Probably quite a lot.” You knew Angie was only trying to hype you up but you couldn’t help but knock her down. 

“Even if that is so. You could probably get another article out of it. Benny Watts and his life in the big apple?” Angie suggested. 

“I’m sure ‘LIFE’ has already done that piece before.” You pushed another idea aside. 

“Trust me, (Y/n). You need to stop being so afraid of the unknown and who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy yourself?” Angelie had had enough of the negativity from you at this point. 

There was a sudden knock at your door. 

“I’m sorry, Angie. Someone’s just knocked on my door, I’ll have to call you back.” You looked over at your front door and wondered who it could be. 

“Ça va. Call me back!” She told you as the knock occurred again. 

“Je t'aime.” You hung the phone back up on the wall and went over to your door. 

You opened it and you felt your face go white at the sight of who stood there. 

“Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Benny Watts. 

BENNY WATTS.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him. 

“Well,  you wouldn’t come to me so I came to you.” Benny shrugged. 

“You can’t just stalk someone. This isn’t okay. This isn’t cute!” You were bewildered. 

“This isn’t stalking. It’s simply coming to Boston to visit a friend.” He defended himself as he stood out in the hallway. 

“I wouldn’t call us friends, Benny.” You scoffed. 

“Ouch.” Benny put his hand on his heart. 

You went to close your door on him but Benny stopped you. 

“Wait.” He pleaded. His cocky demeanour suddenly dropped. “Look, I know this is weird but I really wanted to see you.” Benny started to explain. 

“I––” He cut you short. 

“–– This isn’t some game. I just want to help you. I want you to play chess again. I want you to play with me.” Benny stayed with his hand against the door and his foot in the gap as he spoke. 

“This is crazy, Benny.” You told him, your eyes locked on his as you felt your heart race. 

“I know.” Benny stepped back. “I’m staying in the hotel down the block. I’ll be here all weekend. If you don’t want to see me, then don’t. But if you change your mind. I’ll be around.” 

You watched him back away from the door and head back down the stairs. 

Benny fucking Watts. 

You rushed back to the phone and dialled Angelie’s number. 

“Bonjour?” She answered, 

“You’ll never guess who was at the door.” 

You ended up tossing and turning all night. 

You caved in at around 3am and started to read Benny’s book again. 

You finished it by the time the sun was rising. 

You had a cold shower to wake you up at around 9am and then you stared in the mirror as the thoughts racked your brain. 

You walked over to your chess set that rested on the dresser top and you took it over to your bed, opening it up. 

You set up the board and stared at it.  

You picked up the queen. The same queen that Benny had held in the photo you took. 

You caved. 

You dressed and did simple make up before heading to the hotel that Benny had told you he was staying. 

“I’m looking for Mr Benny Watts.” You asked the elderly lady at the front desk. 

“He’s staying in room 306 but I’m almost certain I saw him leave about an hour ago for breakfast.” She informed you. 

You thanked her then sighed. 

You left the hotel lobby and started down the street. There was plenty of places to eat around the hotel, you almost considered just waiting in the lobby for him to return. 

Then you saw it. 

Through a window of a small diner. 

The famous black hat. 

You pushed open the diner door and walked towards the booth where Benny was sat. 

He had his back to you but he didn’t seem surprised to see you when you sat down opposite him.  

“Morning.” He greeted you as he munched on some pancakes. 

“I won’t play chess with you.” You stated. “I won’t play chess with you but I will spend the weekend with you and you can talk about it.”

Benny remained silent as his brown eyes watched you carefully. 

“I finished your book.” You told him. “I'm ready to learn.” 

Benny placed his knife and fork down, picking up the napkin beside his plate to wipe his mouth. 

“Great.” He nodded, interlinking his fingers above his food as he elbows rested on the table.  “Let’s begin.” 

(WHAT HAPPENS NEXT HERE)

TAG LIST

@sumebreaks @rainbowpowaa @momsteeeve @timelesstay @carostar2020 @rose-moon-mist @alwaysbeanunknownfan @liatlyn @weirdowithnobeardo @supercalifragilisticprincess @blushingpogue @heartofeden @airwaveee @subaehun @gonnashinelikestars @soundbreaker-harms @gothicwidowsworld @leilanixx @gold-star-for-me @number-0-iz @goinggoinggonzo @iiwontgiveuponmilkk @a-tel-o-pho-bia @tearvnclw @reecebib @chouetteschaussettes​ @lilypander​ @gatheringstormclouds @pig32​ @oliviazinnegan​ @tattooedmuses​ @someone-you-dontknow​ @gemmamitch​ @chims-kookies​ @jasmine2042003​ @sxperncturalimpala67​ @ausblack​ @gingerspicetalks​ @epistrofh-twn-ypogeiwn-poihtwn​ @lizziel1410​ @stephyra17 @hannah-olivia​ @ausblack​ @kylobien​ @vampirestookmydoubts​ @that-one-shitty-blog​

[ticketstomydaydreams]

5:3666

(All We Have: Part Two)

Part One

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson fall into a night time studio routine when he starts keeping you company through your insomnia and you decide to work though some past demons

Word count: 3,200 (ish, I lost count editing)

Feels: Fluff with a dash of past trauma

Warnings: Drug & alcohol consumption, domestic violence, cursing, Colson being so sweet it almost makes your teeth hurt

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - 5:3666

Warren Zevon - I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

The Vamps - All Night

Halsey - You Should Be Sad

A/N: If you've been affected by anything in this story, please know you're not alone. My inbox is always open and I'm all ears 🖤

______

During the first couple of weeks of moving in, you’d been partying A LOT. The guys wanted to show you just how mad it got, breaking you into their chaotic household, blending the days together. Everyone was hyper and the house was buzzing with energy. You'd been so exhausted from all of it that you'd been all but passing out each night, but you couldn’t lie, it was great fun.

You’d tried to pass on a few nights but Colson would never hear of it, often forcing you out of your room to get involved as the house was filled with people, jam sessions taking place in between drinking games. It was a far cry from your usual homelife, your last housemate mainly kept to themselves so your place was normally pretty chilled. Colson had used your place as a quiet escape over the years, but it seemed you wouldn’t have the same set up extended to you here with this lot.

With the pandemic unfolding, the house had started getting quieter, less people in and out every night and everyone was settling into a lazier way of life. The gang were mooching around the house throughout the day and while the house was still lively at night, it wasn’t quite the party central you’d almost started getting used to. Your normal working routine went out the window as everyone had started working from home mainly and without your daily routine, followed by nights out partying, your insomnia was back with full force.

______

You were lying in your bed, trying to force sleep on yourself but after trying to nod off for a couple of hours, you accepted defeat and got back up. Throwing some sweats on and one of Colson’s huge hoodies (you’d been slowly sneaking them out of his closet, finding that the masses of material drowning your small frame were super comforting), you headed down to the kitchen, turned the stove on and filled the kettle up. You were scrolling through your phone when you heard footsteps on the tiled floor. Colson strolled into the kitchen looking disheveled in a white tank top and boxer shorts, hair ruffled and looking sleepy

“Dude, it’s 3am how come you’re up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, living that oh so fun insomnia life again” you sighed “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, I was already awake. Couldn’t sleep either and heard someone moving about so thought I’d come down” He replied, climbing onto one of the breakfast stools

“Yeah, I think it’s not having much of a routine. Hate lying in bed staring at the ceiling so just got up. You want a cup?” you offered, pointing to the chamomile tea you were brewing

“Sure, thanks” he says, taking the steaming mug from you

You sit down at the breakfast bar with him and start chatting, scrolling through instagram as you do. After about an hour, as you’re talking about an article you’re reading, you notice Colson doesn’t respond and you look to your right and see he’s fallen asleep, leaning on his hand, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” you whisper, rubbing his back with your hand “Go to bed”

He slightly jolts at your touch, opening his eyes “Nah man, I’m keeping you company”

“Some company” you laugh softly “pretty sure you just slept through all my rambling there”

He leans against your shoulder, closing his eyes again “Hey, at least you’re not sitting here alone. That’s something right?”

“That’s true” you smile, leaning your head against his “You’re very appreciated, do you know that”

You gently push him upright and stand up “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m pretty tired myself, so you’ve definitely helped”

He’s laid his head down on his arm on the counter, his breathing getting heavy immediately so you pull his other hand making him stand up. He stands up and puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs, your legs feeling heavy as you climb each step, carrying some of Colson’s weight as he sleepily walks with you

Once you’re standing outside your bedroom doors, he pulls you in for a hug

“Night kid, don’t be wandering around bored if you can’t sleep yeah? Just come get me. Nothing worse than sitting up alone at night…”

“Will do. Thanks Col” You squeeze him a bit tighter as he kisses the top of your head

“Night” you smile, as he let’s you go and turns and heads into his room, waving his hand up behind him

Undressing and crawling into bed, your eyes feel heavy as your head hits the pillow. Colson was right, insomnia was a much less lonely experience with a friend.

______

Of course, as is always the way after your sleepless nights, you sleep in super late the following day meaning the cycle continues and you find yourself wide awake as the witching hour approaches. Feeling restless in your bedroom, you get up, and decide to head downstairs and out into the studio because you figure you might as well put this time to good use. You settle into a chair with your acoustic guitar and started playing, stopping and starting as you figure out a melody, working your latest lyrics in with it

“I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest. Got no anger, got no malice…”

“I thought I told you to come get me if you couldn’t sleep”

You almost drop your guitar as you hear Colson’s voice behind you, “Jesus, how are you such an enormous human but you still manage to creep up on me all the time?”

“Just a stealthy motherfucker I guess” He laughs, flopping into the chair next to you

“Whatcha working on? That sounded sweet, keep playing…”

Colson knows you sometimes get a bit self-conscious with people watching you sing, so he lights his joint, rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes. You smile as you see what he's doing, thankful he always understands what you're like.

You turn back to your notepad, reading over your lyric outline quickly before repositioning the guitar in your lap and resetting the metronome

___

‘I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest

Got no anger, got no malice, Just a little bit of regret

No, nobody else will tell you, so there's some things I gotta say

Gonna jot it down and then get it out and then I'll be on my way

No, you're not half the man you think that you are

And you can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs, and cars

I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you

'Cause you can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you

Oh, I feel so sorry, I feel so sad

I tried to help you, it just made you mad

And I had no warning about who you are

I'm just glad I made it out without breaking down

And then ran so fuckin' far, that you would never ever touch me again

Won't see your alligator tears

'Cause, no, I've had enough of them’

___

“Man, that was beautiful Y/N. I got some chills right there…You just wrote that?”

“Nah, it’s something I dug up from ‘back then’. Been going through some old lyrics and samples while we’ve got all this time on our hands. It’s kinda cathartic to go over some of that stuff now there’s a bit more distance you know”

______

A couple of years ago, you’d been stuck in a really toxic relationship with your ex, Stevie. Your time with him had been a tornado of arguments, drugs and the constant heartache of him cheating on you. Every time you’d get close to having the strength to leave, you’d always cave in and the mess would continue with you losing a bit of yourself each time you stayed. You’d become pretty used to his violent outbursts, he had always been controlling and short tempered, often pushing you and throwing stuff around your apartment. Despite his own frequent infidelity, he flew into a jealous rage with you constantly.

He’d always hated Colson, despite him being one of your best friends, and while he’d play nice to his face you’d always get it in the neck once you were alone about how you and Colson were ‘too close’ and he ‘didn’t trust him’. Before that final night you’d spent with him, things had been pretty good with the two of you for a few weeks, there hadn’t been much drama and so you hadn’t thought too much of inviting him out with you and the gang for a night out clubbing. Your good run had clearly come to an end, when you felt his hand grab your arm tightly and drag you off the dancefloor where you’d been dancing with Colson. You’d been bundled into an uber so quickly, you hadn’t even managed to get your handbag from inside. You saw Colson running out of the club, followed by Rook and Slim who was holding your bag, as the cab pulled away.

Once you were back at the apartment, he flew into a rage. You’d never seen him this bad before, his eyes were dark and when you tried to argue back, calling his jealousy ‘pathetic’ he snapped. He’d grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall, “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again” he’d spat in your face, before striking you so hard with his fist that the skin across your cheek split open. It was as if his actions had knocked him back to reality, he’d let go of you and you ran to your bedroom, locked the door behind you and started packing a bag. He hammered on the door, begging you to open it and you could hear that he was crying. You looked around for your phone before you remembered you’d left it at the club. Desperate to get away, you opened your laptop and brought up instagram, managing to send Colson a message asking him to send you an uber to his house straight away. You’d thrown your laptop and a few more bits in your bag, the battery dying before you had a chance to wait for a reply, before pulling the bedroom door open and barging past Stevie. He’d tried to grab you, but you’d finally had enough “Never fucking touch me again” you spat, pushing him off you. The hatred in your voice rooted him to the spot and he said nothing as you walked out, the door slamming behind you.

Once you were outside the apartment building, the reality of what had just happened and the situation you were in started to wash over you. You had no phone, no wallet, your laptop was dead. Just as you were starting to seriously panic, an uber pulled up and Colson had leapt out of the backseat. You’d been in total shock and had just let Colson guide you into the cab and then out into his house, up to his room. He didn’t say anything as he led you to his bathroom and lifted you up onto the counter. He grabbed a flannel and soaked it with warm water, rinsing it out before pressing it softly against the cut on your cheek, gently wiping away the blood that had mixed with your mascara laced tears. The tenderness of his actions was almost too much and you started to sob again.

“Hey, hey. Y/N, look at me” he said softly, lifting your chin so you looked at him, his blue eyes misty themselves “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Don’t move, I’ll be back in a sec”

He left the bathroom and returned with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Putting them on the counter next to you, he crouched down and undid the straps on your heels, slipping them off your feet and then helping you down from the counter. “I’ll leave you to change”

When you came out of the bathroom, Colson was lying in his bed “Come here” he said, holding his arm and beckoning into his side. You crawled under the covers next to him and snuggled into him, his long arms wrapping around you.

“Col…” you said quietly

“Yeah?” he whispered back, stroking your hair off your forehead

“Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve always got you Y/N”

______

“I hated that fucking guy. That night...I wanted to kill him after what he’d done to you”

You see him tense up at the memory and you lean over and squeeze his knee “You’re such an amazing friend, do you know that. I don’t know what I would’ve done that night without you”

"You're a fucking warrior Y/N, you'd have handled your shit. I was just happy you trusted me enough to let me be there for you. You deserve so much better than that" he says, covering the hand you'd placed on his knee with his, staring you in the eyes and returning the smile that's crept across your face

"You know there's been a few punches I've wanted to dole out on behalf of you over the years, but you've never let me" you tell him

"Too right I'd never let you. I never want you in the drama, you're too good for getting caught up in that shit" he replies, pointing at you with mock sternness

"Hey" he says, seeing your expression wash over with a tint of sadness "At least the sleepless nights aren't what they were then…

… If we're gonna work through some old demons this lockdown, I'm sure I've got some songs and lyrics that have never seen the light of day" He reaches over the desk and pulls his laptop towards him "You've inspired me… "

"Oh no, are we gonna fuck our heads up with this?" you joke nervously, worrying that Colson's going to delve into something that's going to upset him

"Nah, I got you covered and you got me, right?"

"True dat" you say, as he holds his fist out so you can fistbump, his eyes now focused on his laptop screen

______

You felt kinda bad, having kept Colson up all night with you the last two nights, especially as you'd got him reminiscing about some tough memories, so tonight you tried to sneak past his room when your restlessness got the better of you.

"Nice try kid!" Colson says as he throws his bedroom door open, causing you to yelp in fright. standing there topless with his sweatpants hung low in his hips, he lights the joint hanging from his mouth "I told you we were in this together now"

"I felt bad, making you stay up with me"

"You didn't make me do shit…Wait a sec, let me find a hoodie. If I have any left in here…" he says, giving a pointed look towards the huge blue hoodie you were wrapped in before walking back into his room and rummaging through his drawers

"Oh shush, you have like a hundred…"

"Right come on" he says, pulling a pink hoodie over his head and flipping the hood up over his messy hair "Let's see what we get into tonight…"

______

And so the nights went on like this, the two of you falling into an easygoing studio routine. If there wasn't anything else going on in the house, you'd eat dinner together then head to the studio and work through the night into the small hours, skipping out the pretense of trying to sleep. You were both pretty productive at this time it seemed, both being proclaimed night owls, and keeping busy during these uncertain times was keeping your minds off the unfolding pandemic.

Considering he’d referred to his home studio in the past as the ‘rage cage’ (and it certainly could still be party central when the entire crew got involved), it was actually a place you drifted towards to relax these days. You’d always worked well together in a studio, but over the weeks spending so much time just the two of you, you became more in tune with each other, noticing when one of you had hit a wall and it was time for bed. Sometimes you'd work in comfortable silence, side by side, engrossed in your own seperate tasks. Sometimes barely any work would get done as you put the world to rights talking about anything and everything in a late night impromptu therapy session.

This evening, you'd been sitting cross legged in your chair for hours now, focusing so hard on editing a song which was driving you mad, you hadn't realised your feet had gone numb. As you try to move, your knees crack and pins and needles shoot through your legs. Colson looks up from the screen he'd been engrossed in after hearing you groan and sees you rubbing your feet trying to bring back the feeling to them

‘C’mere’ he said, before turning his chair towards you and leaning down to grab your legs, bringing your feet up onto his lap. He pulls your socks off and begins massaging your feet. You lean your head back, eyes closed and let out a long ‘hmmm’. You don’t see Colson glancing over at you and shifting in his seat as he lets out slow breath before turning back to his screen

“Now this is the kind of work session I could get used to”, you sighed "You being my studio bitch on hand for foot rubs. Although, I imagine this enjoyment goes both ways Mr Foot Lover” you tease, throwing him an exaggerated wink

Colson throws his head back with a hearty chuckle, and light heartedly slaps your calf

"Keep it in your pants Y/N"

You laugh and wiggle your toes, Colson letting out a dramatic, throaty groan in response. "Those are some sexy little toes though" he states, sticking his tongue out.

Still laughing, you put your hand to your chest, and gasp as you feign prudishness and try to pull your feet away. He grabs both your feet in one of his hands, keeping them in place then leans over the desk and pulls your laptop towards you

"Get on with some work you, this is supposed to be keeping you motivated, not distracted"

He scolds affectionately, with a smile on his face

“Okay, okay, spoilsport” you grumble as you pull your computer onto your lap

Half an hour passes, your legs still on Colson’s lap with him still massaging your feet absentmindedly with one hand while he works, and your eyes begin to feel heavy. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep, until you’re awoken by a “woah” from Colson as he catches your laptop which is about to fall. Taking it from your lap, he states “Right, time for bed you”

You check your phone and see it’s already 5:36am.

You stand up and stretch then walk over behind Colson, putting your arms around his shoulders, and resting your chin on his head. Looking at his screen, you yawn “You got much left to do?”

He leans back into you, bringing his hand up to rest on your arm, “Making some good progress so just gonna finish a couple of bits”

“Okay dude” you gently kiss the top of his head and squeeze the back of his neck a couple of times as you turn to leave “Try and get some rest, we’ve got a long day of sweet fuck all to do tomorrow” you say through another big yawn

“Heh yeah, Night Kid” he says softly, letting out a yawn himself. Colson turns and watches you head out of the studio and lets out a big sigh. Feeling the back of his neck still tingle from where you’d squeezed it, he’s suddenly aware of how empty the room feels without you in it....

______

Taglist: @triplexdoublex @thisshitisfuckingdifficult @brightblaqkkheaven

Lace Up! ❌❌

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Happiness, I’m sorry you’ve been on hold.

Request: Could you do a one shot of Fred Weasley after the war, where he doesn’t die and actually falls in love with a muggle. And he tells her about wizards and meets his family? Thank you!

A/N: So this is now the longest thing I have ever written. My aim for this was to make it equal parts angst and equal parts fluff because I think Fred deserves all the fluff. Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope I have done it justice! Please read the warnings before reading this fic should anything trigger - you come first, not fic reading. Also, if anyone can name the TV shows I mention in this, you get a gold star! Title from Volbeat - For Evigt. I hope you all enjoy, I know it’s long!!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of war, depression, insomnia, PTSD, swearing, food, but THERE IS SO MUCH FLUFF - SO MUCH (as well as a bit of steaminess).

Word count: 13.3k

The voices have blurred into a senseless mess; Fred can only just make out the deep timbre of adult males and the high pitched shouts of students. He doesn’t need to hear the words to know that spells are being thrown left, right, and centre.

He does his fair share of fighting; hurling jinx after jinx at any Death Eater he comes upon.

The corridor he runs down is moaning and groaning as if ready to collapse, but Fred continues, his breath coming in pants. His eyes run over the bodies of students and teachers; his heart beginning the painful mourning process then and there.

Someone shouts; he doesn’t know who.

Something creaks; he doesn’t know what.

A brilliant flash of light bounces in front of his eyes, and he feels himself blown away just as the wall beside him starts to collapse.

Whether from shock or from injury, his vision fades to black.

Fred wakes with a start; heart racing, mouth gaping wide in a silent scream, hands gripping the bedsheets in a vice-tight hold.

With his eyes closed, he takes a deep breath before he begins to go through his exercise. An exercise he repeats nightly.

Aloud he says their names like a mantra: “Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Ron, Ginny.”

He does this over and over again until his heart rate calms, and his hands can release the bedsheets.

Fred checks the clock; 3am. He nods, sighing. Three hours sleep.

Fred supposes he should be thankful. After all, it’s three hours more than he got the night before.

He leaves his bed, dragging his feet to the kitchen where with a flick of his wand, the kettle begins to boil, and teabag drops itself into his favourite mug – his only mug.

The Second Wizard War had been over for almost a year now, and for the most part, life had returned to normal. Routines were picked back up and time had simply started to move on.

But Fred felt stuck.

He couldn’t shake the nightmares; keeping the house up with his screams. He couldn’t face opening the shop up despite George’s best attempts at pleading.

He didn’t have it in him to laugh.

He felt broken; as if something vital within him snapped in two the day he avoided the winged clutches of death.

Settling on the couch with his now steeping mug of tea, Fred resigns himself to the fact that he won’t be getting anymore sleep tonight.

The TV plays lowly in the background, a rerun of an old British sitcom set in a prison playing. Fred pays it little to no attention; instead, looking around the small flat he’s called home for the last eight months of his life. The walls are sparsely decorated; a few photos hung up but nothing that screams his personality. His cupboards remain filled just enough for one person, as does his fridge. It’s a flat fit for a hermit; Fred thinks that’s what he’s become.

He decided to leave home two months after the end of the war. When he started to notice the dark circles underneath his mother’s eyes and realised that he was the cause of them – his nightmares and his screams.

Molly cried when he left; worried sick over how he would look after himself and cope. Fred reassured her and made a promise to send letters twice a week – a promise he has yet to break.

George was understandably angry with his twin’s decision, but he knew that deep down that Fred needed to go to heal so he can laugh in the shop once again.

With a tight hug from his parents and siblings alike, Fred began his new life in muggle society.

A frantic knock at his door has Fred spilling his tea and falling out of his reminiscing. Jumping up from the couch, his hand grabs his wand, ready to defend himself should he need to.

His breath comes in quick pants as a result of the adrenaline and panic coursing through his system. The only people who know where he lives are his family with the added bonus of Harry, Hermione and Lee Jordan; no-one else had his address.

The frantic knocking continues; becoming quicker if it was at all possible. Fred swallows past the lump in his throat as he unlocks his door, wrenching it open in a swift movement, ready to confront whatever was on the other side.

Fred wasn’t prepared for it to be you.

You stand in front of his flat with a wild look on your face; equal parts terror and panic. Your hand is still raised in a fist, ready to rain down on the faded red of his door. You only just stop yourself from pounding your fist into his chest.

“Can I help you?” Fred greets.

“I’m so sorry, I know how late it is, but I need your help.”

Fred raises an eyebrow, “What with?”

You toe his welcome mat sheepishly, pointing towards your flat next door to his. “There’s a massive spider in my bathroom and I’m too scared to kill it myself.”

“You’re knocking down my door at this time in the morning for a spider?” Fred asks incredulously.

You glare at him, “This isn’t just any spider, okay? It’s massive; I can practically see its kneecaps!” You huff, placing your hands on your hips, “Will you please help me?”

Fred leans against the doorframe, a smirk gracing his lips, “What’s in it for me?”

You purse your lips; eyes glancing between the red-headed man vexing you and the door to your flat where you know the spider is waiting to make a mockery of you. You sigh, deciding the former is the lesser evil than the latter, “I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“You’ll buy me breakfast for killing a spider?”

You nod rapidly, “Yes, I’ll buy you breakfast, and I’ll even fork out extra for hash browns, just please kill the spider.”

Fred pauses; pretending to think it over in order to annoy you that little bit more. It had been a while since he had taken the time to vex someone; he had to admit he was rather enjoying getting on your nerves.

“Well?” You press, tapping your foot on his welcome mat, “Will you help me or not?”

Fred pushes himself off the doorframe, keeping his wand concealed in his shirt sleeve. He bows at the waist with a cocky smile on his lips, “Lead the way, my lady.”

You roll your eyes at the man; not remembering a time when a man had gotten on your nerves to this extent. You lead him into your flat; his eyes wandering over the heavily decorated walls and the over-filled bookshelves. You pause outside the door to your bathroom, biting your lip as you face the red-haired man, “I last saw it in the sink. It could have moved now.”

Fred nods, “Don’t worry, I’ll find it. Do you have a boot or something I could use?”

You turn away from him, heading back to the entryway where he saw piles upon piles of shoes. “I don’t have a boot,” you start, “but I do have a pair of trainers.”

“They’ll work,” Fred reassures, taking them from your hands.

You throw him a thumbs-up before retreating a few paces into your living room. You haul yourself onto the couch, much to Fred’s amusement, as if the spider is going to come running out of the bathroom to exact its revenge on you for throwing your pot of face cream at it before you sprinted out of your flat.

“Good luck,” You state as Fred opens the door to your bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Fred runs his eyes around your bathroom, looking for the eight-legged arachnid that’s caused this much trouble at this time in the morning. He finds it in no time; still stuck in your sink, unable to make its way up the smooth porcelain sides.

It doesn’t take Fred long to dispose of the spider; trapping it with a spell and flinging it out of the window. For extra measure, and to not alert you to his magic, he slams the trainer down on the tiled floor of your bathroom. Fred even goes so far as to scrunch up some tissue in his hand to make it look as if he had gotten the spider.

If he can avoid it, Fred won’t kill another living creature. In the short span of his life, Fred had seen too much death, and he knows he doesn’t want to be witness to anymore.

Upon opening the door, Fred finds you stood in the exact same place but with a rolled up magazine in your hand. He wants to laugh at the sight, but he can’t dredge up the will to do so. Instead, he holds up the scrunched up tissue and your trainer, declaring, “It’s gone. I got rid of it.”

You jump down from the couch, pottering over to him. The rolled up magazine still in your hand, “It’s in there?”

Fred nods, a little white lie won’t hurt you and he doubts the spider would return. “Do you have somewhere I can put this?” he asks, waving the tissue around.

“Of course, the kitchen is over here.” You lead him to the small kitchenette where he disposes of the empty tissue. You take your trainer off him and Fred claps his hands together as if he’s completed a job well done.

“Right,” He starts, “If you don’t need me for anything else…”

Your eyes widen as if suddenly aware what time it is and how long you’ve kept him, “Of course!” you cry, “I didn’t realise the time, you’ll want to be getting back to sleep. Thank you for all your help…” you trail off, realising you don’t know his name.

“Fred. My name is Fred.”

“Fred,” You smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“I’m glad I could help, (Y/N),” Fred says, making his way to your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”

You frown, “Breakfast?”

“You owe me? For killing the spider, remember?”

You hold your hand to your forehead, “Yes! I remember. How does meeting at half past nine sound? I want to get some sleep before I meet you again.”

“Half nine it is. I’ll see you then.” Fred says as goodbye, shutting your front door behind him and making his way back to the couch that had been calling his name since he left it.

The TV has moved on now; showing another rerun of an old sitcom – this one about two brothers hustling their way through life in a borough of London. Fred rather likes this show, having gotten hooked his first month in muggle life. He turns the volume up, taking a sip of his now cold tea.

Fred tries to pay attention to scene currently playing; the brother’s elderly uncle unscrewing the fastenings to a very expensive chandelier they’ve been hired to clean. Little do they know they’ve got their wires crossed and disaster is about to strike.

Fred pays little attention to this, but rather than return to the wallowing he found himself in earlier, he lets himself think of breakfast tomorrow.

His eyes begin to flutter shut; the lack of sleep finally catching up to him. He slumps down onto the couch, reaching for the blanket he keeps draped across the back of it for this very reason, and he throws it across himself. He takes one last look at the television to see that the brothers had been underneath the wrong chandelier their elderly uncle was loosening, and he falls asleep with the thought of breakfast running through his mind.

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

Fred is ready too early; he knows he is.

He also thinks he’s overdressed but he doesn’t let himself think too much into that issue.

Another nightmare had awoken him an hour after he fell back asleep in front of the TV. Fred wasn’t too resigned though; four hours sleep in one night was the most he had gotten in a while. He was going to count this as a win.

For a while, he remained on the couch, flicking through the channels hoping to find something other than telly shopping. He skipped over the news channels, not needing to hear anything about muggle society that could potentially send him further into his spiral. He ran a hand over his face as he turned off the TV; he had moved away from home to start getting better; to start the healing process yet he felt as if he was only making things worse.

Before he could let himself dwell further on that subject, he hauled himself into the shower. Taking extra time to scrub at his hair and body; making himself look presentable for breakfast with you.

Fred took extra care in picking out his clothes. Once dressed, he did feel overdressed for the occasion, but as he sits on the couch, watching the hands on his analogue clock tick by slowly, he’s more bothered by the fact that he’s ready over an hour early.

He sighs as he watches the second hand make another circuit around the clock; one less minute to go, he thinks wryly to himself.

If his mother could see him now, Molly Weasley would proceed to smack him with a tea-towel before offering her advice on the matter. Thoughts of his mother has Fred overwhelmed with a strong sense of missing her. He misses his mother more than he misses anyone; how she would always have food on the table and tea ready to drink, how she would push back his hair from his forehead so she could kiss him there. She would do that a lot when the nightmares were very bad; she would sit with him on the couch where he had exiled himself after waking George up too many times – she would run her hands through his hair in a comforting manner, kissing his forehead as his eyes would start to droop. Molly would only let herself rest once her beloved son was sleeping somewhat peacefully.

Fred thinks of this memory as he digs around his flat for some spare parchment and a self-inking quill. He had already sent his two letters for the week, but Molly would be delighted to receive a third unexpectedly.

Quill scratches on parchment for some time. Fred inquires after the wellness of his siblings – did Charlie pull his finger out and ask out Evie? How was Ron and Hermione? How was Dad? Would he like any more of the muggle sweets he’s become so fond of?

Fred asks the inane questions before asking about George. Fred knows that George loves him; they’re twins, they’re closer than any other sibling would hope to be. George knew Fred’s moods like the back of his hand and he only wants the best for his brother. Which is why Fred struggles with the guilt at leaving George to cope with the joke shop alone. George has reassured him that it’s okay, that he needs to take time and the shop will always be here when he’s ready to come back.

But it still doesn’t lessen the guilt that sits in his stomach like a lead balloon.

Black ink covers his hand by the he’s finished his letter; finishing his letter with the news of breakfast with someone he could see being a good friend. That would be enough to quash his mother’s worries that he doesn’t leave his flat enough. He seals the envelope with wax, making a mental note to go to a wizarding post office after breakfast so he can send it off in express time to his mother.

Cracking his knuckles – a nasty habit he picked up at Hogwarts – Fred checks the time to see that it’s almost half past nine. He slips on his denim jacket, tucking his letter into an inside pocket, patting it to reassure himself it’s there.

As he’s locking up the door, he sees you exiting your flat. Fred realises that when you aren’t dressed in mismatched pyjamas with a terrified look on your face, you’re rather beautiful.

You hurry over to him; your bag bouncing against your hip as you come to a stop in front of him. “Good Morning,” you greet.

“Good Morning. How did you sleep? Any more spiders?”

You direct your gaze to the floor, feeling somewhat sheepish in the light of day, “I know I said it last night, but thank you again. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if you hadn’t have got it.”

Fred smiles softly, “I didn’t mind. Besides, I get breakfast out of it.”

You perk up, “That you do! Off we go then.”

You lead him out of the building, continuing on the main road before turning left and then a right. Fred follows you all the way; making small attempts at idle conversation which you gladly take up, chatting to him about anything and everything as you lead him down a side street to where a small café sits.

The bell above the door chimes happily as you enter the building, holding the door open for Fred to duck in first.

You lead him to a table by the window that’s big enough for two. He pulls out your chair for you, letting you sit first before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair. Fred may have been a little shit through his childhood and adolescence, but he had listened to his mother when she explained the etiquette for dining with a lady whether it be breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Menus are handed to the both of you by a waitress who looks to be wanting to be anywhere but here right now. Fred sympathises with her a little; remembering the early starts for the shop. They order their food in no time; you ordering a latte and Fred ordering a Yorkshire Tea to go with your Full English’s with extra hash browns.

You grin at him from across the table, “Thanks for agreeing to this.”

“Thanks for offering.”

“Did you get back to sleep okay after I woke you up?” You asks, face lined with worry.

Fred nods, clearing his throat, “I nodded back off, yeah.”

You sigh with relief, “That’s good, I’m glad.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept very well in my spider-free flat, yes.”

You fall silent as your drinks are placed in front of you with a promise that your food would be with you shortly. Fred smiles at the waitress in thanks as she leaves.

He turns his attention back to you, “How long have you lived in the building? I’m sure I would have seen you before.”

You wave a hand nonchalantly, “Not very long, I moved in a couple of months ago. How long have you lived there?”

Fred sips at his tea, adding a dash of sugar and milk before answering, “Around eight months now.”

You nod at his answer, taking a drink of your latte. The caffeine was needed; the adrenaline from the spider incident had taken a while to leave your body, leaving you tossing and turning in your bed and providing you more opportunity to think about the red-headed neighbour you had just met.

“I’m going to propose an idea.”

“Oh?”

“I say we play twenty-one questions and get to know each other.”

“Get to know each other?”

You blink at him, “Yes. We’re neighbours and we’re having breakfast. What else should we talk about? The weather?”

Fred glances out the window at your words, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Well the weather is particularly lovely for London.”

You hush him, “That’s not very neighbourly of you.”

“Perhaps I’m not very neighbourly,” Fred taunts.

You gasp dramatically, “I refuse to believe that. If you weren’t neighbourly, you would have shut the door in my face last night.”

Fred raises an eyebrow, “Would you have started to knock again if I did?”

You purse your lips, repressing a smile, “Maybe.”

“Then I simply helped to lessen the noise.”

You scoff, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“You don’t have to.”

You glare at him, “Fred, stop being an arsehole and let me get to know you.”

Fred barks out a laugh, covering his mouth at the volume of the noise, “Well, when you put it like that. What do you want to know?”

You beam at him, and Fred can’t help but smile back. “How old are you?” you ask.

“I’m 22.”

“Are you at university?”

Fred shakes his head, “I thought I was supposed to ask the next question.”

You level him with a look, “Answer this one and then you can ask the next one.”

“Alright, but you can’t go jumping in with another question before I’ve asked mine. No, I’m not at university,” You open your mouth to interrupt but close it when you remember Fred’s words. He smiles at you, “How old are you?”

“You can’t repeat questions!”

“Why not?” Fred asks, affronted, “It’s only fair I know your age too!”

“Fine,” you mutter, “I’m 22 as well. 23 in a month.”

Fred nods, waiting patiently for your next question. You open your mouth, the words ready on the tip of your tongue but the waitress returns with your breakfast. The very smell of it has Fred’s stomach rumbling; he hadn’t a cooked breakfast like this since he left the Burrow. He digs in with renewed vigour; repressing a moan at the taste of the fried bread.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

Fred nods, unable to reply due to the mouthful of food he’s chewing.

You nod in understanding, swallowing your mouthful before saying, “I found this place in my final year of university; I needed somewhere that reminded me of my mum’s breakfasts. Her breakfasts will always be number one, but this comes pretty close.”

Fred pauses with a forkful of scrambled egg halfway to his mouth, “That’s what I miss most about home – my mum and her cooking.”

“Are you not from London originally?” You asks around a mouthful of bacon.

Fred shakes his head, “Devon originally. A tiny village in the county; it’s more of a hamlet really.”

Your eyes widen; eyebrows flying into your hairline, “Devon? That’s a while away. How often do you get to see your family?”

“Not as often as I’d like.” Fred says, drinking his tea.

For a moment, it’s silent between the two of you. The scraping of cutlery on plates being the only sound. Fred thinks of his family as he eats his breakfast; wondering what their plans are for the day – whether they’d be gnome hunting or playing quidditch or simply helping Molly with her vegetable garden. His heart hurts as he thinks of them; overcome with the absence of them from his life. It makes him shiver as he reaches for another drink of tea.

Fred breaks the comfortable silence, “What about you? Where are you from originally?”

“Lancashire originally but I moved to the south when I was young – it’s why my accent is so odd.”

Fred frown; he hadn’t noticed anything odd about your accent, thinking the way that you pronounced your vowels was similar to the way young Neville Longbottom does his, but yours are cut shorter.

“Tell me,” He starts, “Do you see your family as often as you’d like?”

“You’re going to repeat my every question, aren’t you?”

Fred grins, “Maybe… Maybe not. You’ll have to stick around to find out. Now, do you see your family as often as you’d like?”

You shake your head, “Not really. My parents like to travel a lot; a cruise here, a two week holiday there, a road trip across America through the summer. I don’t blame them though; they worked hard for the time they have now. I just wish they’d drop in more.”

“Are you rich?” Fred asks before he can stop himself. He cringes as the words leave his mouth.

You chuckle at the awkward expression on his face, “I’m not. My parents are. I’m a humble student working towards their master’s degree. My father created his company in printing greeting cards; he sold it off a few years back for a lot of money and they’ve been enjoying themselves since.”

“You’re a master’s student?” Fred asks; his knowledge on muggle degrees somewhat limited to what Hermione had told him.

You nod, scraping up the last forkful of food on your plate. “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s in Library Science.”

“What do you hope to do after that?”

“Work in a library or well, continue to work in a library, I already work at my university one. I’d love to work in an archives one day though, cataloguing pieces of history.”

Fred nods, enraptured by your words. He didn’t realise how much choice there was for muggles and their education. The wizarding world was somewhat limited to how witches and wizards could harness their talents; Fred and George were practically pariahs for choosing to dedicate their lives to pranks and happiness. He had always assumed the muggle world worked in the same way, but here you were, proving him wrong.

Knives and forks are crossed on plates when you ask, “You aren’t a university student, so you must have a job. What do you do for a living, Fred?”

Fred decides a kernel of truth wouldn’t do too much harm, “I own a joke shop with my twin brother.”

You laugh, clapping your hands together, “That’s incredible! Is the shop here in London?”

Fred nods, “It is. My twin brother is running it for the time being.”

“Can we go see it?”

Fred freezes; he hadn’t anticipated this. He glances down at the watch wrapped around his wrist then back up at you, not missing the glint of mischief in your eyes. “Perhaps another time?” he suggest, “I have some errands I need to run today that I can’t avoid.”

You lean back in your chair, feeling somewhat sad but you shake it off. “Of course, but I’ll hold you to that Fred. I won’t rest until I see your shop.”

Fred grins, “I have a feeling you’ll stick to your word.”

You move to reply but are interrupted by the waitress coming by to collect your plates and ask if you want anything else. She leaves the bill behind when her question is declined. Fred reaches for his wallet, but you stop him by snatching the bill.

“I made you a promise last night. Breakfast for your excellent services.”

Fred rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “I feel bad letting you pay.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” You tease, “No, I said I would buy you breakfast so I’m buying you breakfast. You can buy it next time.”

“So there’s going to be a next time?”

You shrug, biting your lip. “Sure – you might need my services for something. A blocked pipe or a blow fuse.”

Fred stands, pulling on his denim jacket, patting his inside pocket to find that his letter is still there.

You walk back to the main road together; waving goodbye to him as you head towards your university and he to a side street where he can apparate to the nearest wizarding post office. Fred hands his letter over to the clerk, paying a few extra knuts for express delivery.

Fred takes his time walking back to his flat; enjoying the spring day that was blooming around him. He felt lighter as he walked; as if he didn’t need to put as much effort into putting one foot in front of the other. He put it down to you and your presence; there was something about you that evoked all sorts of emotions from him. There was something about you that made him want to see you again.

However, he knew by tonight, the familiar fog will have settled over him – dulling the light of everything around him. He knew that he would still struggle to sleep; being lucky enough to get even an hour in before being pulled to consciousness kicking and screaming his way out of the same nightmare.

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

His time over the next month is split three ways. He spends a third of it on his couch; watching old reruns of sitcoms – his new favourite being set in second muggle war and follows the Home Guard; Fred finds himself whistling the theme song more often than he’d like to admit. He uses his time on the couch to write his letters to Molly who was thrilled at the aspect of Fred making a friend; she wrote question after question about wanting to know their star sign to their hair colour. Fred smiles fondly; a smile reserved only for his mother – one that got even bigger when a second owl arrived with a small note with another question. Through all of her excited questioning, Molly forgot one crucial detail – what was their name?

He spends the second third of his time running. Fred had always been sporty; had always had an athletic build that helped him gain his spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a Beater with George on the team too. However, there are few places in muggle London where he can play the sport freely, so he gets it into his head to pretend to train for a match. Fred begins to run; every morning and every evening. Two runs a day, seven days a week. The runs on an evening tire out his body so he has more of a chance of falling into bed with the hopeless prayer of a dreamless sleep uttered from his lips. However, the runs on a morning are more frantic as he runs off the excess adrenaline and panic running through his system as a result of the night terror his mind unleashed upon him, dragging him from sleep less than two hours after his eyes closed.

Then Fred spends the final third of his time with you. In your flat or walking around Hyde Park or visiting your university.

Fred finds himself spending more and more time with you; he starts to crave your company. And he feels ridiculous for feeling that way because he’s only known you for over a month and he should be using this time to start the healing process.

But he’s already told his mother about you; and who isn’t to say that he can’t work on healing from the trauma of the war with you by his side being a warm, comforting presence?

Fred sits on his couch at nearing two in the morning; questioning his entire existence and reasoning for moving to muggle society when he realises that whilst it’s only been just over a month, if he wants to start healing with you by his side, he needs to be entirely honest with you.

He needs to confess.

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

Fred inhales a deep breath before knocking on your door. He shuffles from side to side, nerves rioting in his stomach. In less than a minute, you’ve wrenched open your door, smiling widely as you take in Fred standing before you.

“Freddie! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He holds his hands behind his back as he rocks back onto his heels, “Do you want to go on a walk?”

Your eyes run over his face; taking in the dark circles underneath his eyes. He had told you about his insomnia soon after the friendship began; it worried you, but Fred had reassured you that he had it controlled. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Fred nods, “That, and I really need to talk to you.”

“No problem. Let me just get my shoes on.”

Fred smiles as he watches you toe on the slip on trainers he had come to know as Vans. You told him just last week about your obsession with them; unable to resist buying a new pair each time you passed the shop.

You grab your jacket from the hook, pulling it on as you lock the door behind you, bumping into Fred as you step out into the hallway.

Fred leads you out of the building, turning the usual left that heads in the direction of the park. You struggle to keep up with his long strides; calling out for him to slow down a little so you can at least walk side by side. He smiles at you as you catch up to him; apologising for his speed, he is just anxious.

The walk to the park is walked in silence. Fred’s mind occupied with how he’s going to tell you the most important thing about himself and how you’re going to react when you find out that a lot of your friendship was built on a lie.

The park settles on the horizon too soon and his heart is in his mouth. Fred used to be a confident guy; happily getting involved in scheme after scheme that would bring chaos and laughter to the corridors of Hogwarts, but he had lost that part of him in the battle. He wondered if he would ever be that guy again.

You bump his shoulder, “We’re at the park, what did you want to talk about?”

Fred settles on a nearby bench; fiddling with his fingers, “I need to tell you something  but I’m not sure how to say it.”

“That’s fine. Why don’t you tell me why we’re in the park?”

Fred sighs, “It’s so you have the freedom and the choice to leave after I tell you what I’ve been keeping from you.”

Your heart starts to pound in your chest; panic rising slowly in your gut. “What have you been keeping from me that’s so bad that I would need to walk away from you?”

Fred turns in his spot, staring into your eyes, “Do you promise to hear me out and not interrupt?”

“Fred, you’re worrying me. What’s the matter?”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise! Now what’s wrong?”

“I’ve been lying to you… about so much.”

The air is knocked out of you, “I’m going to need more than that, Fred,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Do you remember when we first had breakfast? And I told you about the joke shop I own with my twin?”

“Yes… so what did you lie about? The joke shop or the twin?”

“Neither. I just lied about why you couldn’t see it.”

“Why?” You ask; your tone incredulous.

“Because I’m a wizard, and the joke shop I own with my twin – who is also a wizard – is a magical joke shops selling pranks and potions to witches and wizards attending Hogwarts.”

You stand from the bench, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself, wondering when the TV cameras are going to show up, “That isn’t funny, Fred.”

“I’m not joking, (Y/N). I’m not lying to you now.”

“How do I know? What’s Hogwarts? Who is your twin? What’s the name of your shop? Why aren’t you there?”

Fred had prepared himself for the barrage of questions he knew would inevitably fall from your mouth; curiosity being your besetting sin. He hadn’t prepared himself for the look of betrayal and hurt that crosses over face as you continue to stare at him. Fred feels his already broken heart break some more at the sight of it.

He runs a hand over his face, “(Y/N), love, please sit down. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Everything?” You question, “I want to know it all.”

Fred crosses over his heart, “I promise. Now please sit down.”

You sit next to him; a few inches away as if the small distance will help to protect the heart that you had already started to give to the broken red-headed man.

You remain silent as Fred sorts out his words; you can see the cogs in his mind working as he figures out how to explain an entire society that you hadn’t known existed until less than a minute ago.

Finally he releases a breath and begins.

“Witches and wizards have always been around, but after famous witch hunts such as Salem, Pendle, and Samlesbury, we had to go into hiding to protect our numbers. From the age of eleven, we go to Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a school in the highlands of Scotland dedicated to teaching young witches and wizards the art of magic as well as how to control it. My twin is called George; we’re identical and sometimes, our own mother struggles to tell us apart,” Fred breaks off with a short laugh, thinking of Molly with fondness.

“He’s my rock, he’s my best friend. We bought the joke shop when we were eighteen – it’s called Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and it’s found in Diagon Alley. For your sake, it’s found near Charing Cross Road.”

Fred pauses once again, readying himself to explain his absence from the shop and his presence in your life. “I’m not there because I moved away. In our society, there was a dark wizard who started a war for purposes beyond me. I just know that when I was 21 I was running through the corridors of the school I used to attend fighting for my life and watching people I knew die. I almost died myself when a wall was blown apart; luckily, someone spelled me out of the way. I’ll be forever grateful to them for that.

“After the war, I couldn’t cope. I was doing more harm than good by being with my family – my insomnia stems from nightmares of the war so I left. I left them and moved here where I’ve started to heal from my experiences and where I met you after you started to bang on my door. I wanted to tell you sooner; my mother told me to in her letters, but I was enjoying my time with you, and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. It means a lot to me.”

Fred falls silent with a smile aimed at you. Your mouth hangs open from his words; unsure on whether to take them for the truth they sounded like or to question him to find the holes in his story.

But he looks so vulnerable; the smile is watery, and his eyes are lined with tears. You realise that it’s taken a lot for him to confess this to you, but that it had been weighing on his mind for some time.

You don’t say anything immediately. Instead, you draw his head to your shoulder, and he lets out the sob he’s been holding in since he started to talk about his past. You wrap your arms around him tightly; holding him together as he lets himself fall to pieces in your arms. You’re in public, and this is a scene but the both of you don’t care. You hold him to you until his sobs begin to quieten into sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” Fred murmurs, pulling away from you as he wipes his eyes.

“Never apologise for crying.”

He sniffles, “Do you believe me?”

You nod, “I do. I don’t think anyone could have made up what you just said. I don’t think there’s enough imagination in the world for it. But there’s one thing I want to know.”

Fred watches you warily, “What is it?”

You grip his hand tightly, “Are you healing, Fred? Are you coping?”

Fred’s shoulders slump as the tension leaves his body; he had tensed at your words, worried at what you might say. He stares into your eyes as he answers, “I am. I was struggling at first, but I think I’m starting to heal.”

“Can I help? How can I help?”

Fred pats your hand, “Continue doing what you’re doing, it’s enough.”

And it is. Fred finds it easier to breathe in your presence as if the weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders like he were Atlas. Instead, he finds it easier to focus on other things such as plans for the day or listening to you talk about your latest assignment. He doesn’t feel his mind drift off as much when he’s around you; which is a good thing, he thinks.

You smile at him, still holding onto his hand, “I can do that.”

You both fall into quiet; eyes now focused on the expanse of the park. Fred watches a young mother push her young son the swings, hearing his delighted laughter, whilst your eyes land on the teenage couple making out underneath a tree; you move your eyes away quickly, focusing instead, on the ducks swimming in the pond.

You break the silence, “Fred?”

He hums in answer.

“Would you cast a spell for me?” You ask tentatively, “If that’s okay!”

Fred smiles softly; letting go of your hand to reach for the dogwood wand he keeps hidden up his sleeve. With flare he hasn’t shown since opening the store, he pulls the wand out. He rolls the wand over his fingers, “Wizards can practice magic outside of school from the age of seventeen; I can show you a spell.”

“Really?” You ask, bouncing in your place.

“Are you ready?”

“Hold on, let me think for a minute… YES.” You shout, stamping your feet in the grass.

Fred grins; his eyes crinkling in the corners from the size of his smile. He checks for witnesses before holding his wand up whispering the incantation ‘Lumos’. The tip of his wand begins to glow with a pale light which in the falling darkness of the day only helps him see the beauty in your features.

You gasp at the sight of the light emanating from Fred’s wand, resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. “I can’t believe it,” you sigh, “All this time I asked you to change lightbulbs and you could create light with a single word.”

“You’re not scared or freaked out?” He asks, unable to stop himself. The small voice in the back of his head needed to know whether you were going to leave him.

You shake your head, still watching the pale white light. With a single whisper of ‘Nox’, Fred turns out the light and slides his wand back into his sleeve. You turn your attention back to Fred, “I’m not scared or freaked out. I’m just in awe of you and this entire society that’s survived in secret. I feel like I’m privy to a secret organisation.”

“You’re in awe of me?” Fred asks; those being the only words he focused on in your entire sentence after confirming you weren’t scared of him.

“Absolutely. You can conjure magic, Fred! Actual magic! It’s incredible,” Your hands frame his face, keeping his eyes on you as you lean close and whisper, “You are incredible.”

He covers your hands with his; wondering when he’d become so soft. “Thank you,” he replies.

You pull away too soon; Fred’s hands dropping to his side, feeling suddenly cold at the loss of contact.

Standing from the bench, you hold your hand out for Fred to take. “Come on, magic man. It’s time we went home.”

“Magic man?” He asks, amused. He takes your offered hand, pulling himself up from the park bench.

“It’s my new nickname for you, do you like?”

“Magic man… magic man,” Fred repeats, testing the name out on his tongue, “I suppose I do.”

“Good, because I don’t think I’ll call you anything else.”

The walk back to the flat is quicker than the walk to the park. Fred’s steps lighter now than they were earlier. Chased by the turning on of street lights, you reach your building and lead him into your flat, offering him a warm drink as he takes a seat on your cream coloured couch.

Fred takes the hot mug of tea from you as you sit down next to him. He takes a shy sip, careful not to burn his tongue. It’s perfect, as it always is. You always know the right amount of sugar and milk to add.

“Thank you for telling me that today, I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

“It wasn’t, but it got easier when you didn’t walk away. I was so worried that you were going to.”

“I don’t think I’d have forgiven myself if I had.”

Teas are drank after that, and Fred whispers goodnight to you before kissing your cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. He lets himself out of your flat, making the short walk back to his where he throws himself on the couch and lets himself wonder when exactly he had started to fall in love with you.

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

Two more months follow, and Fred knows that he’s now arse over tea kettle in love you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, that you like to shove under legs when laid on the couch together, so he yelps at their temperature.

Two more months follow, and Fred feels like he’s maybe able to start living his life again, but in small doses. He writes to his mother more who’s delighted by the tales he tells of you and your growing relationship; he could never keep anything from Molly – her face too trusting and her manner too warm. All Molly is concerned about in her letters is whether Fred is happy, and for the first time in over a year, Fred can reply saying he thinks he could be.

Molly won’t ever tell Fred this, but she cried at that letter, feeling her heart burst with happiness for the son she had always worried about.

Time passes, and Fred spends more and more time with you. Breakfast dates, lunch dates, movie marathons on the couch – he does it all with you. You even go so far as to make him decorate his flat more; pictures of his family now line the walls as well as the picture of him and George on the opening day of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

That’s when he knows he needs to go back to Diagon Alley, and he’s taking you with him.

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

At nine am on the dot, Fred knocks on your door until you open it. You glare at the red-headed man, demanding to know his presence at your door when he only left at four am after binging the entire Godfather trilogy without realising how long the films are.

Fred beams at your state, “Go get dressed, I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Why?” You ask, puzzled.

“I’m taking you to Diagon Alley and my joke shop.”

You stagger back a couple of steps, “Really? Are you sure? Are you ready?”

Fred’s grin moulds into something softer at your concern. “I am, and I want you to come with me.”

A slow smile breaks across your face, “Give me ten minutes and we can go!”

You rush into your room; pulling open the doors to your wardrobe and raking through to find any sort of clothes you’d wear to visit a magical shop, and possibly meet the twin brother of the man you’d fallen in love with.

Minutes later, you exit your room, pulling a brush through your hair to make yourself look more presentable. Gratefully, you take the cup of coffee from Fred’s hand before rushing into your bathroom to brush your teeth and spritz yourself in your favourite perfume – jasmine, lavender and citrus.

You drain the dregs of your coffee as you leave the bathroom. Dropping the pale pink mug in the sink, you turn to find Fred leaning against your kitchen counter with an amused and entertained look on his face.

“Someone’s excited, I see.” He teases.

You pout, “It’s not every day I get to go see magical London, magic man.”

Fred claps his hands, laughing quietly. “Come on then, let’s get you to Diagon Alley.”

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

Diagon Alley is nestled behind Charing Cross Road; it’s the largest area of wizarding London and is completely hidden from the muggle world.

Fred has been visiting Diagon Alley for as long as he can remember; flooing there with his mother and Bill, Charlie and Percy to collect their things for the latest school year. As a child, he loved visiting Florean Fortescue’s when the budget permitted it; getting a single scoop cone with rainbow sprinkles.

As he enters the Leaky Cauldron, leading you in by the hand, Fred is a mix of fear and excitement making him act jittery as he approaches the familiar face of Tom, the barman.

“Fred Weasley? Is that you?” Tom asks, a large smile on his face, “I haven’t seen you in over a year! How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, Tom. How have you been?”

“Never better – you know me.”

Fred smiles, nodding. “I’m heading out back, is that okay?”

“Anything for a Weasley. Does this have something to do with the muggle hiding behind your back?”

You reveal yourself from where you’ve hidden yourself behind Fred. Keeping a tight hold on his hand, you smile shyly at the barman, “I’m (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Tom smiles politely, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” Tom turns his attention back to Fred, “You know what to do.”

Fred parts ways with barman he had grown up knowing, pulling you to the back door which opens into a small courtyard.

“Fred, love, it’s a dead end.”

“Are you sure?” Fred asks with a smirk, reaching for his wand. “Want to see some proper magic?”

“Always, magic man.”

He grins at the use of your nickname for him before tapping his wand on the bricks blocking your way. You cry out as the bricks begin to move; shifting to the side to reveal an entryway to a cobbled street lined with shop after shop all varying in colours.

Letting go of Fred’s hand, you take your first step into the wizarding world; already in love with every aspect of it, just as you’re in love with every aspect of the man making his way to your side.

“What do you think?” He asks, breathless at the sight of the place he hasn’t seen in a year.

“This is unlike any other place I’ve seen.” You hold your hand out for Fred to grab, “Show me around?”

“With pleasure,” Fred replies, wrapping your hand in his, tangling your fingers.

Fred takes you on a tour of the Alley; stopping outside Ollivander’s and getting out his wand to explain the importance of the place, turning his wand around to show you what he means. He tells you the story of Harry Potter; of what his wand meant, being the twin of the wand that had killed his parents. Your heart breaks for the boy you had never met; had never even heard of until today – you ask after him, how is he now? Fred reassures you; after all, he’s fine, Harry’s dating his younger sister much to Fred’s chagrin.

He takes you into Florean Fortescue’s, buying you ice cream for breakfast as any adult should have. Your eyes widen at the taste of the Butterbeer ice cream; butterscotch and buttercream icing bursting on your tongue. Fred smiles at your expression, licking his way through his own ice cream – strawberries and cream for nostalgia’s sake.

Sitting down at a small table, you tap your ice creams to each other in a toast. “Where are we going next?” You ask, catching a drip of the melting ice cream with your tongue – not missing the way Fred’s eyes track the movement.

“I thought we could visit my shop.”

“Your shop?” You ask in disbelief, “Are you sure?”

Fred nods, catching a drip on his own ice cream. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes also track the movement of his mouth. “Yes, I’m sure.” He looks away, ashamed, “I’ve left George alone too long.”

You reach for his hand across the table, “I’m sure he understands, Fred.”

“I know he does, but it doesn’t stop the guilt.”

You rub your thumb across the back of his hand in a comforting motion, “Are you sure you’re okay to go? We can always come back another day.”

“You’d come back with me?”

You grin, “Of course, this is the best ice cream I’ve ever had. I’m here for you, magic man – who else is going to kill the spiders in my bathroom?”

Fred relaxes, “You’re the best, you know that right?”

You take another lick of your ice cream, “I do know that. Do you want to stay and see your brother, or do you want to go? I’m happy with either, but you’re going to have to give me time to get more ice cream.”

Fred laughs at your words, “It is good ice cream,” he takes a lick of his, “No, let’s go. I need to see him; I need to apologise.”

“Alright then. We’ll finish here and then we’ll go to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes… at last.”

He nods, remaining silent. The ice creams are finished in silence; questioning looks sent to each other across the table. Your feelings for Fred often overwhelmed you with their strength; never imagining that knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning could ever lead to something like this. In the short time you had known the man, you had fallen head over heels for him and also had your entire worldview altered by finding out about the existence of magic.

He’d quite literally turned your world upside down, and the only thing that ran through your mind through it all was: I hope he feels the same.

Soon though, faces are wiped on napkins and hands are back to hold each other’s as Fred leads you from the ice cream parlour to where the orange top hat stands out against the darkly coloured shops.

In a last minute attempt to delay the inevitable, Fred pulls you over to the pet shop. You coo over the animals; pointing to the Puffskein with questions burning on your tongue. Fred answers them all happily, delighted to delay walking into the shop and brother he’s neglected for so long.

After a few more minutes, you step away from the shop window citing the temptation being too great and you may end up smuggling the Puffskeins to the muggle world.

“That was a fantastic distraction, magic man.”

“Wasn’t it?” He admits, blushing at having been caught out but not wanting to lie to you, “It worked like a treat.”

You chuckle, “It really did. They remind me of clouds do the Puffskeins; neon, furry clouds.”

Fred snorts, “An excellent description.”

The joke shop now looms in front of the two of you; the bright orange and purple of the paintwork almost luminous in the morning light. Fred stops in the middle of the pavement; feet stuck to the floor, unable to carry him forward. He’s avoided this for so long, but he finally feels ready to insert himself back into the life of pranks, jokes, and happiness.

Your grip on his hand tightens, “I’m here, magic man. I’m not going anywhere.”

His nod is the only sign you get to know that he’s heard your words.

Taking a deep breath, Fred begins to put one foot in front of the other; a hand outstretched for the door handle to the shop, giving it a light push. The bell above the door rings, signalling his entrance into the shop but also his entrance into his old life.

The shop is quiet; it being still too early in the day to get masses and masses of shoppers. Their busy season is the three weeks in August before terms starts where students come to buy their school books but to also stock up on items of mischief.

A near identical man to Fred stands up straighter from his position behind the counter. He starts to open his mouth, to welcome the new customers to the shop but when he looks up, the words never leave his mouth.

He simply freezes in place.

His eyes flicker between the two of you quickly, before running over the man stood next to you. Looking for what, you don’t know.

In between one blink of an eye and the next, he’s thrown himself across the counter, sprinting to where Fred stands in the entryway.

No words are spoken; he just holds Fred’s face in his hands before pulling him in for a hug that’s been long overdue.

You step away from their reunion, letting your eyes roam over the shop. They need this moment alone; you don’t need to invade by watching them. You wander a little; fingers running over displays. You frown when you see you an area lit up in pink titled ‘Love Potion’.

You pick up one of the little bottles shaped like a heart; the bright pink liquid inside jostling as you examine it.

“Careful,” A voice sounds behind you, “It’s a powerful potion.”

Turning you find Fred’s twin, George watching you with inquisitive eyes. “What does it do?” You ask, fiddling with the stopper.

“It mimics the effects of love and obsession. If you smell it, you smell the person you love.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Truly?”

George nods, “Truly. We sell crates full of the stuff nearing Valentine’s Day.”

Releasing the stopper from the neck of the bottle, you take a delicate sniff. Peonies, rain, and Yorkshire tea come filtering through. The very smells you’ve become to associate with the man who had never really been your neighbour but has always been something more.

Replacing the stopper, you drop the potion into George’s waiting hand. He pockets it before turning back to face his twin.

“What did you smell?” Fred asks as you settle back next to him.

You shrug, “Nothing I didn’t already know.”

George grins at the two of you, “Is this the famous (Y/N) from your letters to mum?”

You nudge Fred with your elbow, beaming, “You write to your mum about me, magic man?”

“Hold on – magic man?” George asks, eyes glancing at both Fred and you.

You nod, “It’s my nickname for him.”

George chuckles, “It’s brilliant. I may have to use it myself.”

Fred blushes at his brother’s use of your nickname for him. He doesn’t say it, but it doesn’t sound right coming from anyone else’s mouth but yours.

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). Mum already loves you. I’m George.” George introduces, holding a hand out to you.

You shake his hand twice before dropping it, “It’s very nice to meet you too, George. Fred has told me so much.”

“He has?”

You nod, “He’s told me all about the pranks you played at Hogwarts and why you set up this shop – which I think is wonderful by the way – I feel like I already know you.”

George shifts his gaze to his twin, “I don’t know why but I didn’t think you’d talk about me.”

Fred gapes, “Of course I talk about you. You’re my twin brother, you’re practically half of me.”

George shrugs, “You only send letters to mum… I just assumed.”

Fred steps forward, placing his hands on George’s shoulders, “Mum made me promise to write, I couldn’t break that. I wanted to write to you so much, George, but the guilt I felt as just leaving you and the shop was too much and then more time passed. I’ve been an awful brother; can you forgive me?”

George laughs, tears falling freely down his face. “There’s nothing to forgive now that I know why.”

Fred hauls George into a hug; neither afraid to show their emotions through this reunion. Fred had been so worried before this; thinking his brother might turn him away at the door, but now holding him in his arms, he’s just happy to have his twin by his side once more.

They pull away with a sob; George clapping Fred on the back. “Will you be returning to work, Freddie?”

Fred’s eyes land on you; where you’ve stood silently through the whole exchange, just happy to see the two brothers reunite. His eyes search your face for something, and he finds it in your smile. “Yeah, George. I think I might do.”

George glances between you and Fred as if seeing the connection there. He keeps his mouth shut but smiles at the fact that his twin has found someone to share his life with.

You spend a couple more hours in the shop; pottering freely as Fred and George discuss the state of the business and when Fred would like to start work again. Pride runs through your veins as you listen to them from the upper floor; Fred has achieved so much in such a short space of time and you couldn’t be more prouder of him.

You also couldn’t be more in love with him. He handles himself with such grace; standing taller, smiling more. The more time you spent with him, the more you could feel yourself falling for him. Nights alone in your flat had you thinking of what it would be like to be laid in bed next to him – would he cuddle? Would he let you lay your head on his chest? Or would he prefer to spoon? You had spent so many nights thinking of these questions, trying to think of answers.

“(Y/N)?” Fred calls from the lower floor, “Are you ready to go?”

“Already?” You ask, descending the staircase.

Fred nods, “I’ll come back tomorrow and talk more to George about what I need to do. It’s time we got some lunch, however.”

Your stomach grumbles at his words, “You’ve got great timing it seems, magic man.”

He shakes his head, laughing softly, “No. I just know you too well.”

You smile at him before turning to George to say goodbye. George smiles at you, saying, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other very soon,” with a wink at Fred.

The tips of Fred’s ears burn red as he claps his twin on the shoulder, promising he’ll call in tomorrow. “Tell mum you’ve seen me, will you? I know she worries,” Fred calls on his way out.

“Already on it!” are George’s final words before the door closes.

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

Sitting at a corner table in The Leaky Cauldron, Fred continues to ride on the high from seeing his twin brother after a year apart. He’s positively ravenous; the nerves before having dampened his appetite. He takes it upon himself to order for the both you; checking that you don’t mind. You wave him away, stating that you wouldn’t even know where to begin with ordering.

Tom hands Fred your drinks after ordering, letting him know it’d be around ten minutes before food was with you. Fred thanks the barman, picking up the drinks to return you.

“I’m really proud of you, Fred.” You state, taking a sip of the sweet Butterbeer.

“You are?” He asks bashfully.

“I am. It took a lot of bravery to do what you did today.”

Fred blushes, but doesn’t drop his eyes from yours. “I think I’m going to be brave one last time.”

“You are?”

“Yes,” He states, reaching for your hand, “I’ve only known you for less than six months but in that time you’ve helped me find who I was before the war. You’ve helped me find the laughter that was missing. What I’m trying to say is, is that I’ve fallen in love with you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, Fred,” You sniffle, “I love you too.”

“You do?”

You nod, “I really do. I love every last bit of you.

Fred sags in his chair; holding onto your hand tighter, “I was so worried you wouldn’t love me back.”

“No chance of that, magic man.”

The smile that breaks across his face is simply breathtaking, and you thank your lucky stars that the man you’ve fallen in love with, loves you back, just as much.

Tom fetches your food over then, settling two plates onto table. It smells divine and without letting go of Fred’s hand, you pick up your fork and dig in.

The meal is eaten in silence; happy looks and secret smiles exchanged over the steaming plates of food. Fred’s thumb rubs over the back of your hand; the motion now having another meaning alongside ‘I’m here’. Elation bubbles within you, flooding your veins. The love you feel for this man is entirely encompassing, filling your very pores, combining with your genetic makeup.

For as delicious as the meal is, the both of you barely taste it. Plates are empty in no time, and Fred leaves Tom a tip on the table. He pulls you up with him, dragging you to the door and back to muggle London.

It feels like a fever dream; stepping back into the reality you’ve known all your life until you met the red-headed man stood next to you.

Fred tugs you into him; his arm wrapping around your waist. He drops your hand in favour of caressing your cheek. His brown eyes sparkle with love and joy as he dips his head, pausing just before he touches his lips to yours, waiting for permission. You grant him in the form of pushing your mouth to his.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in close, feeling all of him pressed against all you. He tastes of the butterscotch from the dregs of his Butterbeer and you hum against his mouth – it’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating; you could lose yourself entirely in him and you wouldn’t mind a bit. Your hand runs through his hair, tugging lightly. Your toes curl at the sound of the low moan from the back of his throat.

From the outside, this looks like a simple passionate embrace between a young couple. They don’t know how long this kiss has been in the making; how many time you’ve wondered exactly what Fred would taste like, and now you have that knowledge, it’s not something you’ll be parting with soon.

Eventually, you pull away from him, coming back to the surface for breath but Fred doesn’t let you go. He holds onto you tightly, pressing kiss after kiss to your face making you giggle at his affectionate side.

He lets you go for a single instant to pull you into the side street beside The Leaky Cauldron. He wraps you tightly into his side, savouring the feel of you lined next to him.

“This is going to make you dizzy,” is his only warning before he apparates back to your flat.

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

Though confessions have been uttered, Fred takes his time to learn your body.

Kissing you slowly; peeling your clothes off your body with the air of someone who has all the time in the world – and he does. He takes his time to memorise every inch of your body; every dip, every curve, every freckle. He commits it all to memory though the both of you know that you’ll be doing this for a very long time. He whispers words of worship into your skin; your body was a cathedral and he was going to worship at your feet.

You take your time with him; running your hand through the hair on his chest before trailing it lower, watching how the muscles in his toned stomach jump at your touch. A simple touch, and it drives him wild.

He draws you in for a kiss; flipping the both of you so you’re underneath him. He braces himself above and you spend the rest of the night, and most of the morning, learning the noises that can be evoked from a kiss in the right place.

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

It surprised Fred that it takes his mother almost a month to send him a letter demanding that she finally get to meet the person who had stolen her son’s heart.

Fred reads the letter beside you at the breakfast table; chuckling at his mother’s words over his morning cup of tea. He hands you the letter once he’s finished reading, watching your face for every emotion as well as letting his gaze drop to the small purple bruises at the base of your neck, laid there by his mouth.

You hold a hand up to your mouth, repressing the smile. “Your mother wants to meet me?”

Fred nods, “She has for a while, but I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“There’s no chance of that now, magic man, especially after last night.”

Fred blushes but beams, satisfied. “Would you like to meet them?”

You pause, tilting your head to one side as you think of how to phrase your next few sentences, “I don’t want to presume anything, but I’d like to think I’m going to be in your life for a long while. I think the earlier I meet your family, the better.”

Fred takes your hand in his, dropping a kiss to the top of it. “You aren’t presuming anything; I want you in my life for an eternity and more. But are you sure you want to meet them? I’m from a very large family, and if I know them, it’ll be partners as well.”

You lean over to press a kiss to his cheek then to peck his lips quickly, “I love the worry, but it’s okay. I want to meet them, and I want to see pictures of my magic man as a baby.”

Fred groans; he’s forgotten about the baby pictures but from the look on your face, he know he’s fighting a losing battle. He kisses you quick, “I’ll send an owl to my mum now, letting her know we’ll come tomorrow, how does that sound?”

You hum happily, “That sounds like just enough time for me to find an outfit good enough.”

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

Molly Weasley opened Fred’s letter with a shriek; rushing to reply before getting started on calling the family together. She sends her Patronus to Charlie in Romania; threatening death should he not return home for this occasion. Charlie replies within two hours by showing up on the doorstep with his girlfriend, Evie in tow.

The whole family under one roof again would be something of an event; and one Molly would not waste by having petty squabbles and nasty reminders. She lines her family up in the living room; boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and wives and proceeds to lecture about what this means. She’s grateful it being a Friday evening so she can lecture the whole family without absentees claiming work as the excuse.

Halfway through her lecture to her family, Arthur places a soft hand on her shoulder, “Molly, dear, we’re going to be on our best behaviour.”

She whimpers, “I haven’t seen my son is so long, Arthur.”

He wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulder, knowing the toll Fred’s absence took on her. He had been the unexpected twin; but they didn’t love him any less for it. On the contrary, Molly loved him more for the fear of his siblings making him feel unwanted.

“I know, dear. But we all promise to be on our bestest behaviour, don’t we gang?”

Confirmation rings out across all six of their children and their partners. Molly levels them all with a look, “Fred is bringing his muggle girlfriend with him, and George has told me it’s serious. We aren’t going to have a problem with that are we?”

“Definitely not,” George calls out to the agreement of his siblings and siblings-in-law, “(Y/N) is a sweetheart; you’ll see the moment they both arrive.”

Molly dismisses her family; dispersing them to different rooms with different jobs to make the house presentable for Fred and (Y/N)’s visit tomorrow.

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

Tomorrow arrives quickly, and before you know it, the sun is shining through your window and the birds have begun their morning song. Fred’s arm hangs over your waist in a dead weight; you shift him gently as you make your way out of your bed and into the bathroom to begin your day.

By the time Fred wakes, you’re dressed and are brushing through your hair. With a lazy grin, he watches you get ready for the day. He’s in utter awe of how he met someone like you, but then you meet his eyes in the mirror and that awe transforms into something warmer.

He drags himself out of the warm bed desperate to feel you under his hands. He places his hands on your shoulder, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Good Morning,” He whispers, his voice still raspy with sleep, “You look beautiful.”

You hum, “Good Morning sleepy head. The kettle boiled a few minutes ago and there’s a teabag waiting in your favourite pot.”

“You’re a dream,” Fred calls out, pottering into the kitchen.

“And you’re a flatterer, magic man,” You call back; grinning when you hear his laughter.

Time flies by in a rush of breakfast, clothes, and kisses and before you know it, it’s time to apparate all the way to Devon.

“Are you ready?” Fred asks; your hand tight in his. You don’t miss the double meaning to his words.

“Take me to Devon, magic man,” is all you reply before your flat turns into a whirlpool of blended colours and you’re spat back out on the outskirts of green, green farmland.

Not letting go of your hand, Fred leads you in the direction of his childhood home. Air he hasn’t smelt in over a year wash over him, bringing with it a tidal wave of memories. Nostalgia settles within him as he glances down at you to gauge your reaction to his home.

The Burrow stands proudly in the valley between two hills. You gasp at the sheer height of it, “This is where you grew up?”

Fred nods, eyes on you, “It is. I lived here until I moved to London.”

“It’s incredible,” You whisper, taking a step forward, and then another, and then another until you break through the long grass into a clearing. A garage is situated to the left of the large house, and you can just make out the canes for a vegetable garden. You nod as if understanding every motive for the placement of everything; if you were to live somewhere like here, you’d too grow your own food.

Fred draws your attention back to him by speaking, “Through there is where we practice Quidditch; the game I told you about from Hogwarts?” He continues when he sees you nod, “Then behind there is a pond that a family of frogs live in. To the right of us is mum’s garden, it’s her pride and hoy – she excels at household charms, but she’s a wonder in the garden too.”

“Fred, this place is incredible. I already love it and I haven’t even met your family.”

Fred smiles, “You won’t need to wait very long; here’s George.”

You turn from the sight of the growing vegetables to see George making his way over to you. “Fred! (Y/N)! How are you?” he calls out.

Fred waves at his twin, leading you to him. “We’re good, Georgie. How is everyone?”

George beams at his twin and then you, “They’re beside themselves with excitement. Mum screeched when she got your letter; gave us a lecture on decorum and everything.”

Fred laughs; his heart swelling with love and fondness for the woman who had raised him with such love and care.

“What do you say, (Y/N)?” George starts, “Ready to meet the Weasley clan?”

You grin at George and then at Fred; utterly besotted by this man, “Lead the way.”

George claps his hands before turning his back on you, heading towards the open door. You follow him at a faster pace than the one you had done when walking up to the house. Eagerness settling in your stomach as you keep your eyes on the open door.

Fred keeps pace with you easily; both nerves and excitement coursing through his veins.

He hears his mother before he sees her, “Fred! My darling,” she cries, tackling him into a hug so tight Fred thinks his ribs might break. You pause next to him; Fred’s arm angled awkwardly as he hugs his mum with one arm – you move to let go of his hand so he can hug his mother properly, but his hold on you tightens.

“Hi Mum, I’ve missed you,” Fred says at the sound of her cries, “I’m home mum, and I’m starving so let’s get something to eat, shall we? I’ve missed your cooking too much.”

Molly wipes her eyes, running them over her son, “I think you have. You’re looking far too thin, darling,” Her eyes land on you; they widen for a second before she’s tackling you in a hug. She whispers, “Thank you” in your ear before saying much louder, “I’m so glad I finally get to meet you, dear. I’ve read so much about you I feel I know you already but it’s never the same thing.”

You return her hug with just as much vigour, “Thank you for having me, I love your home.”

Molly pulls away, “You’re lovely; you’re perfect for Fred, I know it. Come on in, it’s time we ate, and you can meet the rest of the family.”

Your stomach ties itself in knots as you follow Fred into his childhood home. Voices starts to shout upon the sight of Fred entering the home; he grins at them all, greeting them by name, passing out kiss after kiss on the cheek as well as hugs to his brothers.

Then it’s all silent as the crowd turns to you. Fred’s hand drops your and his arm wraps around your waist, “Everyone this is (Y/N). Please be nice, I’m rather fond as you’ve probably heard from mum and George.”

Everyone greets you as if you’ve been part of the family for years; kisses on cheeks and tight hugs as everyone introduces themselves. A dream of your since you were child was to have  a large family, and now with Fred, it seems as if that dream would finally be possible.

His arm rests on the back of your chair as the family take their seats at the table. The food is served with loudness and love; Molly taking extra care with her cooking to make sure it’s perfect for you. From your first bite, you understand what Fred was on about all those months ago. After eating Molly’s food, you would be ruined for anyone else’s.

It’s wonderful; they take you in with open arms, ignoring the fact that you’re a muggle because to them, it doesn’t matter. They aren’t bothered whether you have magic or not, just that you love Fred and make him happy.

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

After the meal, Fred watches you interact with his family; explaining to his father the purpose of your degrees and your plans for the future as Arthur sits there entirely enraptured. He watches you asking Charlie question after question about Dragons with Charlie only being too happy to answer – his girlfriend Evie chiming in every now and then with her own knowledge on the subject matter.

He watches you talk animatedly; eyed wide and hands gesturing wildly, fitting in with his family better than he could have dreamed of.

Sighing happily, Fred realises three things:

One – his family would always be there for him, no matter the issue. They’re there to help, to never hinder.

Two – he’s still healing. It will be a long time before he’s recovered from the war, and he’s accepted that.

And three – he’s moving forward with all that in tow because he’s found the love of his life and he’s finally ready to start living it.

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @harrypotter289​ @dreamer821​ @kalimagik​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @figlia--della--luna​ @bforbroadway​ @idont-knowrn​ @summer-writes​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @black-lake-confessions​ @annasofiaearlobe​ 

Fred Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

[deepseavibez]

Blindspot || KTH

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Blindspot [Taehyung x Reader]

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Genre - Best Friend; Fear of the Future; Nighttime Memories; Mixed Feelings;

Summary - She believed in more. In better. In bigger. That life was out there waiting to be grabbed with both hands. He's made it his sole purpose to remind her that simple moments were beautiful and meant to be enjoyed... and maybe, she would realize he was one of them.

Warning - (Slight) Angst; Anxiety; Unsure feelings; Fear of the Future; Fluff; Comfort;

Word Count - 4.7k

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🎶 - I'm Fine - BTS

TAE

‘Tae.’

‘Y/n?’ He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the time, ‘it’s 3am babe.’

‘... I'm sorry for waking you. Sorry. Go back to sleep, it's okay.’

‘Hey, no, no, I'm awake.’ Sitting up, he switched the phone to his other hand and rubbed at his eyes, ‘What's going on.’

‘It’s not important, I swear,’ he could hear her trying to mask her shakiness over the phone. ‘You can go back to sleep.’

He wouldn’t call her out on lying. He knew better than anyone when y/n was in a bad way. Once he asked her, specifically him, what was wrong, she would crumble and he wasn’t there to catch her right now. ‘Y/n. Come on, talk to me.’

‘I can't sleep.’

‘Yeah, no shit,’ he yawned back.

‘I'm so sorry for waking you.’ He could hear the trepidation in her voice.

‘You know better than to apologize for something like that, ‘ he chastised. ‘Babe, tell me about it. Was it a bad dream? Something keeping you up?’

----------

Y/N

You could hear shuffling over the phone as you searched for an answer. It was hard to put certain emotions into words. You only knew you needed to phone Tae, regretting it too late, when he actually answered. ‘I'm not sure,’ you started awkwardly, ‘I guess. I just don't know where I'm going.’

‘Do you plan on leaving me anytime soon?’ Already pulling your leg, he got you to roll your eyes.

‘No, of course not. I just mean, like, metaphorically.’

Things were a bit...confusing right now.

It had been a long time since you last had to deal with emotions this strong. The voices, getting harder to ignore. You had enough outside negativity to deal with, like family and some friends, all having this certain expectation from you.

It was new for you to rebel, to be who you wanted to be and feel how you wanted to feel without consequences. Choosing a life you solely strived toward, negating the tiny voice in your head saying you were wasting time and you were running out of time and you were not enough.

‘I don't know what I want to do, Tae!’ You burst out, the build up too long, the burden too heavy. ‘I don't have plans. I have a great job, I do. But I don't want to be a PA for the rest of my life and I don't know where to start, where to look, how to choose what I want to do.

I don’t have it figured out, it hasn’t fallen onto my lap, and when I look, I feel like I’m going to waste even more time looking.’

‘Y/n, you know you have a lot more figured out than you give yourself credit for.’ The huskiness of his sleep-leaden voice, comforted you. ‘You have money, a routine stable job, you've worked you way through university and graduated with honors.’ Taehyung did it without effort and he knew you would hear his gruff tone above all others, in a crowd, in a panic, as a voice of reason.

‘I know, and I keep trying to remind myself of that, but it’s just become unbearable. I am running out of time.’ Struggling to remain composed you spoke into the phone as if he was right here, ‘What if I'm still here in ten years, Tae? What if I don't ever figure out my purpose? What if I'm meant to just work and then die? I haven't lived! I haven’t seen the world. I’ve made everyone proud and now I’m the black sheep. I prefer it, It's just-,’

The sound of keys jangling cut you off.

‘Tae,’ you asked tentatively, confusion evident.

‘Hmm.’

‘What are you doing?’ You asked when he provided no further explanation.

‘Are you in pj's right now?’

‘Uh,’ you looked down at your white vest and underwear, just to make sure, ‘yeah, why?’

‘Miss y/n, I didn't know you slept in the nude.’

The protests left you immediately at his teasing, slithering heat under your skin at the very notion. ‘Tae! I am not sleeping in the nude, I have underwear on.’

‘Uh huh, what color are they?’ Your cheeks flamed in embarrassment. You could imagine his smirk, that dumb cocky, arrogant smirk.

He laughed, the sound gruff, infuriating you more, and causing you to giggle back. Because you were the butt of the joke, and you liked his laugh too much. Trying to be mad at him, even when play-fighting or harmless bantering, Taehyung, not a chance.

‘Listen,’ a seriousness settling between you, ‘get dressed, just sweatpants, and a shirt.’

‘Wait, what, why,’

‘Baby, listen for once. Just get dressed and give me five minutes.’

You looked at the blank screen, stunned. Your brain stuck at the word baby, and the effect it had. Your insides were mush, anxiety mollified, despite not knowing what he was about to do next.

‘Babe’, you knew, ‘babe’, you understood, that was normal, routine, best friend. But Baby?

You mulled over it as you discarded your vest, and threw on a loose Celine shirt. Pulling on your black sweats, a pair of socks and air force ones because who knows what this boy was up to, you stopped. You sniffed, once, twice, yep, that was Taehyung’s body wash, but what - oh, you tugged the loose collar toward your nose, yep, this was Tae’s shirt.

You composed yourself, almost deadpan at the small realization. When had he even stripped in your room and why weren’t you there.

Wrapping your messy hair into a bun, you restrained your mind from wandering further.

Your phone beeped from the bed and the screen lit up, a message popping up. ‘Look out your window.’

Peeping out you saw his black Jeep in your driveway. He popped his head out of the driver’s side window and did a two finger salute.

Shaking your head with a smile, you grabbed your phone and made your way downstairs through the house and out the front door.

‘What are you doing here,’ you asked as soon as he came into view. He looked good, white tee, black sweatpants, you matched, except for his leather jacket and red bandana.

He opened the passenger door on your side and leaned back, giving you a once over. His lips twitched as he rested his eyes on the shirt you wore. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted you in his shirt. You raised your eyebrow playfully, refusing to give life to something like butterflies and heart-eyes when your best friend stood in front of you. Life was complicated enough.

‘You needed me to show up.’ He said it a matter-of-factly, but you knew he wanted to be there for you and you couldn’t, not feel grateful, and a little warm, that he would get into his car drive to you, all because you needed him to.

Not waiting for you to reply, he threw a jersey at you. ‘Its cold,’ his tone left no room for protest and he cocked his head toward the jeep, a sign to get in.

You wrapped it around you silently, not moving, not yet.

‘Well,’ his thumb curled around the top of the steering wheel as the rest of his fingers straightened out, his freehand rising to follow his question, ’Come on, get in.’

‘Where are we going?’ You would have gotten in, you would probably end up wherever he was going to take you anyway, but where was the fun in doing everything obediently. Even puppies had wild streaks.

He raised his eyebrow this time, a smirk teasing his cheek, 'You're brave every night, y/n. But not tonight, not while you're with me, come, trust me, wherever we go I'll keep you safe.'

You turned to close and lock the front door, breathing out slowly, as slow and low as you could, doing your best to work on the constriction around your heart; his words too wiry, too strong, too genuine to forget, too deep to ignore. It made you so... agreeable.

Getting into the Jeep, you felt different as you sat here now, in a seat you had been in too many times to count. It was probably the time and the circumstances. Yeah, some shifts were just because of the time, and the air and because it was silent and the dead of night.

You said nothing more, even though a few minutes earlier you spoke into the phone like you would explode if you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, you would be alone in your head, if you weren’t able to make him understand.

You jumped slightly, as you felt his hand close over yours, and pull it toward him to brush his lips along your knuckles. It was an absent action, maybe, because he stared straight ahead, didn’t spare a glance at you as you stared at the side of his head, making it look like he wasn’t even aware he was doing what he was doing.

Swallowing against the pounding of your heart, you chalked this up too. Night time was vulnerable, everyone was just a little more sensitive, you didn’t have to make it more than it needed to be.

Looking out the window you noted the lights and dark windows, empty parks and streets, doing your best to ignore the heat against your hand, the breath against your knuckles, lips not very far away, that were capable of a lot more.

With some effort, you faded out the intensity of his actions, and as your eyes adjusted you saw familiar figures, and buildings you had driven past numerous times. You knew where you were going.

He pulled up in the parking lot of his safe haven. In retrospect, your safe place should be entirely different, but you were safe with Tae, that said, his peace was where you found yours.

Jumping out of the Jeep, you noted how dark and looming the two story building looked. A huge sign reading 'Blindspot' the only posh part about this place, black metal roller doors, spray painted names across the walls, some of the neon colors standing luminescent against the moonless night.

One would think it was graffiti, but the community knew better, the ones that came and went, some that stopped and never left, knew having your name on the wall was a privilege.

He jumped out too, after grabbing something from the back. Carrying it toward you, you noted his knapsack, and a box of some sort.

Handing it over to you to hold, you took hold of them silently, as he pulled out the keys to open the locks and deadbolt.

You watched him, his actions purposeful but he was at home, knowing which way the locks turned, the catch on the bolt needing to be kicked out a certain way before opening fully; he'd done this a thousand times before.

Lifting up the shutters, the noise too loud for the silent night, he opened the door and guided you in, making you all too aware of his palm in the small of your back. Taking the stuff from your hand and throwing it onto the edge of the ring and he lifted up to close the shutters behind you.

You took notice of the extra shirt that falls out of the pile on the ring, one of your favorites of his actually, grey with black spots, sort of like a giant cookies and cream oreo mix.

The empty gym in front of you was a contrast to the busy days it had. There was a weight section, the bags lined up against the far wall hanging still, having no impact thrown at it to sway the dead weight, and the machines had their own floor upstairs, treadmills overlooking the balustrades to the floor below, by the ring where you stood.

The pool area, directly below you, in the basements where the changing rooms and showers could be found.

It looked small on the outside, but inside there were stories to be told, motivation, encouragement, brotherhood, friendships solidified in stone and a fair share of violent memories with broken bones, broken bonds and broken hearts.

Walls were packed with quotes, anatomy teachings and pictures, schedules, a dedicated to growing trophy case with medals and newspaper clippings, and pictures of staff, members, and the boss, with his best friend.

What Tae didn't continue, was the stereotype of the grunge masculine look that came with gyms. Outside may be black as night, but inside there was color everywhere - a world within.

The punching bags were each a different shade, green, red, yellow and blue. The ring bottom was black, neon orange ropes running along the sides in three consecutive lines, and your personal favorite, a giant pride flag hung on a hook outside his office door.

Toxic masculinity wasn't allowed in Taehyung's gym. You could be yourself, make your own lifestyle choices and still be a good fighter or just work-out. He took it upon himself to punch the teeth out of anyone that thought otherwise. This was what he'd always wanted to do and he made it more than just a place to get healthy.

There were four hours, two for the morning, two for the afternoon, catered only to women. Tae understood that men will be men, no matter how much you tried to change it. And comfort mattered.

Working out and exercising, as much as it seemed, like a chore, it could be enjoyable. It could be a social setting, helping people to open up, and cope, providing the best way for them to be themselves.

You helped him find a premises, helped him choose color schemes, and sat in on interviews. For legal purposes you were an advisor and owned a small share percentage. You didn't want it, but Tae insisted, you were especially grateful when the gym grew into more than you both had expected it to become.

'Y/n,' he waved his hand in front of your face, the action snapping you out of your thoughts.

'Huh, sorry, did you say something?'

He smiled comfortingly, 'Take the jacket off and your shoes.'

Scrunching your eyebrows, you finally asked, 'Tae, what are we doing here?'

'We are,' he started explaining as he ripped open a box in his hand, 'doing something I feel you need.'

Looking at you pointedly, he motioned his eyes to the jacket.

Shucking it off, you took off your shoes and redid your bun for good measure.

'It's strange isn't it,' you voiced out loud. He perked up at your food for thought, fingers fiddling with white tape. 'It's strange, that I know every corner of this place, but I haven't ever put a pair of gloves on.'

He raised his hand absently, a student raising his hand to give an answer, his gaze focused on yours as he did. 'That's because you've never had the need to, I'm here to protect you.'

Turning away, you caught yourself, before you let your heart show in your eyes. You've known Tae for so long, been his best friend for years, why now, why this feeling, this tightness in your chest.

You played it off, and walked over to him, socked feet padding against the wooden floor boards.

Taehyung clicking his tongue startled you out of your effort to feel normal; you found him staring at your socks.

'Y/n, I've told the guys this numerous times, you can't spar in the boxing section with socks. It's a slipping hazard.' No trace of the out of the blue romantic words, he bent down easily removing them from your feet one after the other.

It would be weird, if you weren't already so used to his skinship, his cuddling when he slept over, his hand straying over your shoulder on the couch, or brushing against your waist when he passed you. Yet, his thumb, on your ankle, his hand as he circled and held it, even for just the moment that he laid your foot down after taking off the sock, you felt… taken.

You wanted to snort, the wording completely off, I mean, he had a right over you, always had but-

He came into focus, looking up at you from where he sat, and asked lightly,' Do you wash these.'

Your mouth dropped open, as you watched him hold your purple socks in between two fingers, like it would bite him, or the smell would.

Your knee nudged at the side of his face playfully as you reached to pull him up. He took your socks, holding them properly now and put them in his bag, picking up the white tape he was fidgeting with earlier.

'So, will I be sparring with you today?' You were excited now. You had watched people vent and let themselves be free as they learned technique, let themselves be violent without consequences, the satisfaction on their faces after their sessions.

When he finally reaches you again he finds the catch and opens it out. White athletic tape, used to make arms and wrists stiffer, and to provide better grip, even with sweat and slick.

'No, not today. Let's focus on getting you worked up and tired. If you enjoy it, I'll gladly let you go toe to toe with me.' His eyes held a challenge, an underlying meaning evident.

Offering your hands up freely, he taped your wrists and fingers, you've seen him do it many times, just never on your wrists. Experimentally you shook out your fingers and bent and scrunched your wrist to allow for the right amount of tightness.

'Cocky, aren't you, Mr. Kim,' you side-eyed him.

He leaned into you, his breath teasing yours, 'I am the Coach here, y/n.' You blinked at the nervous fluttering in your chest, his intimidation, usually not directed so closely to you, doing something you couldn't explain, couldn't quite grasp.

Somehow, you should be scared, but it was, hot.

Leaning into him, breath for breath, you matched up, 'Then teach me.'

A slow smile broke out over his lips, playful Tae was back, it let you navigate things easier, you knew what to expect.

'So, I'm boxing the bag,' you deduced. 'I don't see why I need to tire myself out. I don't know how to do this.'

His palms closed over your cheeks, puffing your face up, emphasizing your pout. 'You are frustrated. You can't do anything about any of your emotions tomorrow, y/n. You have to be patient. You have to remind yourself it's a day at a time that gets you to your future. It will always be about patience.'

'Unfortunately, patience is overrated at something to 4am,’ you complained as he let go of your face and bent down to produce a new set of gloves from under the ring. Opening the zip of the bag, he pushed one toward you.

Shaking his head at your antics, not even phased, he strapped the gloves to both your hands and walked toward a bag. 'Come on, try it.'

'Color?'

'The yellow one.' He made to stand behind the bag you chose, and held either side of it, knees bent slightly in a defensive stance.

Feeling slightly out of place, and awkward, you huffed and punched the bag just to humor him.

You stared at it. The fucking thing didn't even move.

He burst out laughing at the comical look on your face.

'Okay, wait no,' he composed himself and came around you. His breath fanned your neck, giving you goosebumps, as he held your wrists and showed you how to punch. 'So straighten your elbow, like this, and pull it back in and see how the gloves are shaped, your forefingers curl above your thumb, so inside your glove your thumb shouldn't be in the fist.'

Nodding as you took in the new information, you did your best not to get distracted as he continued, all too comfortable in his element.

'When your wrist hits the bag don't curl it, let it face the impact head on. See, this is how you do it, so you don't break your wrist.' He made you punch the bag and showed you where your wrist was bending and how to keep it tight.

'Alright, baby,' that word, that goddamn word, 'you good to try again?'

Closing your eyes and swallowing hard, you nodded in answer and shook your head out of the Tae trance.

'Start with a simple combo this time, Jab, Jab, Uppercut, Hook.' You knew the names and their directions. Jab was straight forward, twice fast on the submissive hand as a set-up, the uppercut from downward into the abdomen or chin, depending, and the hook, from the dominant hand rounding off on the face.

'Think of it all y/n,' he encouraged, as he walked to his original position, 'the people, the words, the expectations, the beating up of yourself you do on a daily basis, and just go for it.'

Spreading your legs in a stance, aiming at the bag on his command, you clenched your fists and focused.

'Go'

----

'And breathe.'

Breathing heavily you fell flat to the floor, and stared up at the ceiling.

Sweat was in your eyes and your hair, but despite being in dire need of a shower, you felt oddly at ease. Tiny zings of exertion shot through your body as your lungs begged for air and you heard your blood rushing.

The roof was really pretty you thought, the wood positioned in long blocks to form and hold up the gable, grabbing your attention for the first time ever.

You blinked as Tae's face came into view, his hands resting on his knees.

He smirked cutely as he brushed your sweat slicked hair out of your eyes and off your face before reaching down to pick you up off the floor.

Handing you a water bottle, you let him manhandle you as he lifted your form to sit on the edge of the ring, launching himself up to sit next to, a second later.

'How do you feel?' He was proud of himself no doubt, after all, his plan did succeed.

You made a face at him, anyway.

'Hey,' he put both his hands up in mock surrender. 'It worked, didn't it.'

You cut him some slack, this time. 'Yeah, I feel icky, but definitely less worked up.'

---------

🎶 - Black Swan - BTS

TAE

Taking a swig of the water you had opened in your hand, he looks at the top of your head as he closes it and puts it away.

'Hey.'

She looks up at him, eyes hooded in exhaustion.

He smiles at her. Despite how much he loved her spitfire, she's adorable when she's not talking back.

He knew of the thoughts that crawled up her spine on a daily basis. He knew she had no plan, and it made her hyper that she didn't have one, but she couldn't make one because, what if she chose wrong.

He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to tell her that she could be whatever she wanted to be, and he would fly her across the ocean if she really wanted it; that she didn't need to worry about life so much because he would always take care of her.

'You're too sad.'

She scrunched her eyebrows at him.

'You have the whole weight of the world on your shoulders and you can't do anything about it.' He chose his next words carefully. 'I wish you could take a breather, and let a thought be a thought instead of picking it apart.'

He held up his hand to her when she made to protest.

'You know, things may not feel okay right now, with work, or at home, and in your head. But I've never seen someone adapt like you have. You bounce back, despite how much grit it takes.'

He took the gloves off her hand and carefully unwinded the tape on her fingers.

'I don't have answers y/n. But I do know you have me for a long time and I'm going to be here as you do your thing.'

Placing pressure on each finger he massaged the tightness out of it and flexed it for her.

'I don't know where you're supposed to go, if you were meant to leave and give me a round-the-world heartbreak, I'm not sure who you're supposed to be, I don't even know if you have a higher purpose, it wouldn't surprise me if you did, but you, y/n,' he heaved a sigh as he faced her, his gaze meeting hers, his next words the most important thing she'd need to remember,' you're a good you.'

As he met her eyes, her breath hitched. He heard it. He could see the flush in her face. He knew he was being honest. He knew he meant every word.

A half smile, a heavy acceptance, hands that were so easy to hold, eyes that were never anything but honest, a bond that all but forced a person to keep swimming. That was Taehyung to y/n. And that was y/n to Taehyung.

'You're a really, good you,' he reinforced. 'Right now, it works. I have a feeling it will work for a very long time.'

'I'm scared.' He could hear it in her voice. He heard it back when she was in her room too.

'Nothing is really set in stone, babe. And even though it does feel like you're running out of time, it's something you can't help. It's not what you want to hear but it's true.'

'How do I stop being sad?'

She was deflecting. But he had said it before, it wouldn't be gone tomorrow. Her anxiety and her fears, they will probably never go away.

She had the right way to go about it though. You get through it. Somehow. Some days it's a good cry, some days it's with a punching bag, and some days, it was with a best friend.

'See, now that's why you have me.' He answered confidently, as he put his chest out, his need to have her be okay, her smile, her laugh, his only intentions, his favorite thing these days.

'Oh really, you, why, because you're a clown.'

He feigned offense at the statement. 'Excuse me, I am not a clown, ask anyone that comes in for the 5am rush.'

She looked up at the clock in shock, it was really going half-four. She turned back to him sadly, 'I kept you up all night.'

'It was a fun night,' he replied, the teasing of many other ways to keep him up on the tip of this tongue, deciding against it, he looked away from her. 'You needed me, no amount of sleep is worth that.'

He didn't explain himself, he really didn't mind the lack of sleep. He could easily catch a nap in his office, or head home after half a day. But this, this moment with his best friend, that he wanted to be more, he knew he wouldn't choose to be anywhere else. He knew he'd do it over again too.

Pushing off the ring he grabbed the knapsack and handed her his shirt. 'Change out of that shirt, and use this one, you'll catch a cold, because of the sweat. And let's get you home, you need a hot shower, and sleep. I'll drop by for dinner after work too.'

Finally turning to her, he found she hadn't moved an inch, unshed tears in her eyes. Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her toward him, sweat and all, and held her in his arms. 'You're first y/n, you'll always be first.'

A tender kiss on her head, his words rendering her speechless, and he knew uncharted waters were on the horizon.

This night, things that he'd said, the ways in which she responded, it was going to shift things for them.

But silence was comfortable for them. And she drank his share of coffee while he ate her share of pineapple, because he couldn't stand coffee and she hated pineapple. And he could hold her in his arms and she'd use his shirt while they slept.

It would start small, but he'd show her, the future was bright, she was deserving of more than she understood, she would be protected from her family and expectations and she would learn to remember, purpose or no purpose she wasn't alone, she never would be again.