#i just need to tell people about this wonder of a book

[marauder-misprint]

Platonic Fred and Reader where they make everyone think their dating, but it’s all a joke to them

Hi! I know you said platonic, but this is 100% a friends-to-lovers fake dating trope ❤︎ So it started platonic...

I have no regrets. Hope y'all enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Friend who is a girl

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

8.6k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, fake dating, Y/N

It wasn’t uncommon to find you doing your homework in the common room. Sure, a lot of people did their homework there, but you had the ability of getting work done while the Weasley twins and Lee planned pranks and fine-tuned products for the Weasleys’ future joke shop. You picked up this skill over the years as the trio of troublemakers decided that you would be their fourth member. Sometimes you think back to the first time they talked to you and wonder if you actually had a choice in joining their group. 

“Oi, what are you doing later?” Fred asks you, leaning over the table you’re sitting at.

“Nothing that I’m aware of,” you answer, not looking up from your book.

“Great! You’ll come watch quidditch practice then.”

You snort a laugh. “And why would I do that?”

“Because Wood’s girlfriend is going to watch and he told us to ask our girlfriends so she wouldn’t be so out of place in the stands.”

“Right… Um, two things. One, don’t you and George have a fan club or something that already goes to your practices? And two, we aren’t dating so I’m not… your girlfriend?” 

“Ah, but you’re my girl… friend. Friend who is a girl. I figure it’s close enough. And there’s no fan club. Good to know you think I’m attractive enough to warrant one though,” he says with a wink.”

You roll your eyes. Yes, Fred was attractive, but he didn’t need you to tell him that. He already had one of the biggest egos. You’re not sure if you could handle him if he was any more cocky. He’s already assuming you’ll drop your plans to do nothing to sit outside and watch him fly around on a broom. 

“Who’s George asking?” 

“Dunno. George!” His voice carries across the common room to where his twin is sitting Lee. 

The two look over at you and Fred. George immediately grins widely. 

“She say yes?” he yelled back.

Fred gives you a look before saying, “Course she did. Who’re you asking again?” 

George gets up and walks over to you and Fred, not wanting to yell across the common room. 

“Beatrice Haywood, Hufflepuff, sixth year, doesn’t give a rat’s ass about quidditch,” George says. “We figured you could explain what’s going on to them.” 

“Because I’m so knowledgeable about quidditch,” you snark.

You do know a fair bit about quidditch. How could you not with Gryffindor’s beaters and the regular match announcer as your closest friends? It was knowledge by association, proximity. Not by choice. 

“More than they do,” Fred says. “You’re coming.” 

You roll your eyes again and return to your book. But when the time came, you were walking down to the pitch with the boys. You sat between Beatrice and Oliver’s girlfriend, Gabrielle. As George predicted, you explained what was going on. More to Gabrielle than Beatrice. Thankfully, Oliver was running the Weasleys’ least favorite drills, meaning they had complained for hours on end about said drills and you actually knew what was going on. One of the more distracting parts of the practice was the group of fangirls who sat in the section behind you. Despite Fred’s denial of their existence, they were most certainly there for the twins and Harry Potter. 

After the practice ended, you waited for the twins outside the locker room with Gabrielle as she waited for Oliver. You made polite conversation with her, asking about how her classes were going and what she was looking to go into after Hogwarts. Just simple questions to ask a seventh year that you didn’t really know. Soon enough, the twins walk out. Fred throws a casual arm over your shoulder, which you immediately duck under.

“Get your sweaty arm off me,” you say mirthfully. Was his sweaty arm gross? Yes, but it wasn’t like you hadn’t hugged the twins when they were sweaty after a match before. 

“Oh, is my sweaty arm okay then?” George asks before putting his arm around your shoulders. 

Fred seizes the opportunity and returns his arm to your shoulders as well. You’re effectively trapped between the two. 

“Ugh, neither of your sweatinesses are appreciated!” you groan, causing both of them to laugh. 

They don’t remove their arms from you until you’re back inside the castle. The walk back to the common room is filled with them complaining about the drills Oliver made them do over and over again. 

“You know, if you did it correctly the first time, he wouldn’t have you do it ten times,” you say. 

“Oi, she thinks it’s easy,” George says.

“I’d love to see you try it.” 

“Ha,” you say dryly. “I will not be getting on that deathstick. No thank you.” 

“I think you need to give it a second chance. Use one of our brooms. It’ll be a step up from the shitty school brooms we used first year,” Fred says. 

“Madam Hooch said she passed me out of pity.”

“Ah, we’ll get you on a broom next time you come round the Burrow,” George says with some finality in his voice.

By then you’ve reached the Fat Lady and Fred gives her the password. You bid the boys good night and head to your dorm with the intent of showering to get their sweaty stench off of you. Alicia and Angelina are already in your dorm and doing homework when you walk in. They give you brief smiles before turning back to their work. Frankly, you’re a bit surprised that they didn’t ask about you being at practice, but you just assume that they are dead set on getting their homework done.

---

It didn’t take long for the first rumors to spread. 

“Oliver’s new girlfriend went to watch the Gryffindors’ practice. She was there, sitting with her. That probably means she’s dating one of them too.”

“I saw Fred Weasley talking to her.”

“I didn’t know they were dating.”

“Must be a new thing.”

You slam your books down on the table at lunch as you wink into your usual spot next to Fred. 

“The whispers, rumors, gossip. It’s driving me crazy, Fred. And it’s all your fault,” you say. 

“My fault?” 

“Insisting I go watch your little practice? Sit next to your captain’s girlfriend? All because being a friend who is a girl is, as you put it, close enough? Now it feels like half the school thinks we’re dating.” 

Fred just shrugs. “Let them. Who cares?”

You did. You care. Not that you’re overly sociable, but you want the freedom to flirt and be flirted with. You’re an honest person and it feels weird to not correct people that you aren’t dating Fred. His not caring attitude just feels off for the situation. But you try to brush it under the rug. You can be nonchalant about it, or at least that’s what you’re going to tell yourself. 

---

“Weasley!” Oliver calls, getting Fred’s attention as the ginger exits his last class of the day.

Fred nods to acknowledge Oliver before heading his way. 

“What’s up, capt?” 

“How would you feel about a double date?”

Fred raises his eyebrows in surprise. “A double date?” 

“Yeah, erm, Gabrielle really liked sitting with Y/N at practice. Was hoping the four of us could do something together. Hogsmeade, next weekend?”

“I’ll talk to Y/N about it…” 

“Brilliant. Gabs will be excited! You better get her to say yes, Weasley,” Oliver says before heading down the corridor. 

Fred runs a hand through his hair, partially worried about what Oliver has just roped him into. You were already feeling iffy about people thinking you two were a couple. But you would say yes, right? 

He heads to Charms, knowing it’s your last class of the day and won’t be too far. You’re chatting with Alicia when he finds you. Alicia excuses herself as soon as she spots Fred heading your way. He has a determined look on his face which she interprets as “incoming prank” and she didn’t want to be involved. 

“Hey, Y/N. How would you fancy going on a double date?”

“Have you suddenly gotten yourself a proper girlfriend? And found me a suitor at the same time?” you report.

“Hmm, well, no. It seems Gabrielle, Wood’s girl, you know,” he starts to say.

“I’m familiar,” you interrupt.

“She’s taken a liking to you. They want a double date. So, clear your schedule for next weekend.”

“So not only does the whole castle think we’re dating, but now we’re going on dates? Despite not dating?” 

“It’s one day, love. An afternoon, really. We’ll go, get drinks and chat and that’ll be all. Easy. No harm, no foul. You get free drinks and I keep my captain happy,” he says, trying to sell you on it. 

You narrow your eyes at Fred. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“Fantastic!” he says with a smile. “You’re the best, you know that/”

“I could stand to hear it more.”

“If you think about it, you’ll probably be hearing it all Saturday.”

“I will?”

“I mean, we’re leaning into this dating thing. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t remind you how great you are?”

You roll your eyes. “Probably a shite one. But still, you could remind me, as a friend, being that I do most of your Arithmancy homework.”

“I provide you with plenty of entertainment as compensation!”

“Entertainment you would provide either way.”

“How ‘bout this: I’ll buy you some chocolate frogs while we’re in Hogsmeade.”

You cross your arms with a satisfied look on your face. “Finally, proper payment.”

---

The walk to Hogsmeade on Saturday with Fred doesn’t feel like a date. It is just two close friends going to the wizarding village. Then you meet up with Oliver and Gabrille, who are holding hands and look very couple-y. It suddenly feels like you’re third wheeling, and Fred is also third wheeling, but that’s two third wheels and that’s not how things work. Gabrielle is nice and so is Oliver, but you still feel weird being here under the guise of having a relationship with Fred. 

You and Fred both cringe as the other two lead you toward Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. It isn’t somewhere either of you would be caught dead in any other situation. You grab Fred’s arm as Oliver and Gabrielle enter without any qualms.

“You seriously owe me, Weasley,” you hiss before shoving him toward the door. 

The shop is far too warm, too cramped and too frilly for your liking. Oliver and Gabrielle appear to have no issues with practically sitting in each other’s laps, electing to focus on each other rather than the steaming cups of tea in front of them. You sit as close as you can to the fogged-up windows. Any extra space between you and Fred would be appreciated, but despite your best efforts, his knee bumps into yours every few seconds as you both shift uncomfortably. 

Everywhere you look inside the small shop, there are couples being overly affectionate. And that’s including across the table. That leaves you with two places to look: at Fred, who you’re afraid that if you look at him for too long, he might try something to further your dating ruse, or at your tea. You stare at your cup with its swirling steam. You assume it’s an enchanted brew, given the way the steam curls into hearts. 

“Tea really that interesting?” Fred asks you in a low voice, almost as if to not bring attention to you despite there being no way that Oliver or Gabrielle are looking away from each other any time soon. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever had enchanted tea, you know? Do you think it tastes funny? Or will it make this shop any less nauseating?” you reply, voice just as low. 

“Yeah, not my first choice either. I’m guessing her choice.”

You look at Fred to ensure that he sees you rolling your eyes. 

“Maybe he secretly loves lacy table runners. Have you considered that?”

“My boy loves one thing, Y/N. And it’s quidditch.”

“If he keeps at this like he is now, he’ll have two loves soon enough.”

“Then we’ll never win the Cup!”��

“Oh no,” you say in mock horror. “What ever will we do?” 

“What if I told you it was the same as suggesting you’ll never get an O in Transfiguration?”

You gasp loudly. “No! Take that back!” 

“And now you see how dire the situation is.”

“No, that’s not fair. I actually need to do well in that class for my career. The Quidditch Cup is just bragging rights.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Tell me, Fred. How is winning the Cup going to help you with your joke shop?” 

“Uh… Teamwork?” 

You laugh. “I think losing would teach you better teamwork. And a bit of resilience.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Fred mutters while shaking his head.

“What? That joke product industry might be more cut-throat than you’re prepared for?”

“That you think we aren’t resilient!”

You scoff. “I know you are resilient. And there’s no one you work better with than George. You’ve already got those skills. Winning the Cup isn’t going to change that.”

“You’re ridiculous…”

“I have to agree with you on that.” 

About half an hour passes with you and Fed chatting like that while you periodically take sips of your tea. The tea doesn’t make sitting in the shop any easier as you had hoped. It’s the chatting with Fred that distracts you from the fact that Oliver and Gabrielle are essentially snogging across the table from you. When you finish your tea, you set your cup on its saucer with a sharp clink. That gets their attention.

“You ready to head out?” Fred asks them as they sheepishly separate. 

Their tea is completely untouched, yet they nod and get up. As the four of you walk around Hogsmeade, you plaster yourself to Fred’s side. Normally, you wouldn’t stand this close for so long. And normally, you wouldn’t entertain the way his hand continuously bumps into yours until he just grabs it. But you’re spending the afternoon with two people you don’t know all that well and the familiarity of Fred is necessary to get through the day. 

Fred and Oliver exchange excited looks as you come up on Spintwitches Sporting Needs.

“Do you ladies mind if we nip in for a look around?” Oliver asks.

You drop Fred’s hand and cross your arms.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll wait out here,” you say. 

“Me too” Gabrielle adds and the boys disappear into the shop with a tinkle of the door’s bell. “You and Fred are real cute together.”

“Thank you,” you choke out, certain it sounds like you’re being strangled. You, Fred and cute weren’t in a genuine statement often. 

“No, really, I mean it. You really work together.”

You shrug. “Probably because he’s my best friend.”

That makes her smile. And it’s the truth. Out of everyone at Hogwarts, you are closest with Fred, which is probably why you agreed to this charade. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Gabrielle coos. “Your person should be your best friend. Oliver and I, well, we just started dating so I can’t say he’s my best friend just yet, but I think we’ll get there.”

You mentally will the boys to hurry up. Talking with Gabrielle isn’t bad. It’s the talking about your relationship with Fred. What you have with him is platonic and you really don’t want to think about “how good you work together” romantically. If you entertained that idea, being in a real romantic relationship with Fred, the consequences are all that you can think about. What would happen to your friend group? What if you broke up and it was messy? What would happen to your friends then? Nope. Fred is your best friend and that’s all he will be. 

You carefully direct the conversation to focus mainly on Gabrielle and her relationship with Oliver. You’re able to get by with not saying much about you and Fred. You try to not sigh a breath of relief when the boys walk out of the shop. 

Your next stop is Honeydukes. On the walk over, you grab Fred’s hand and give it a squeeze. Fred looks down at you with a soft look on his face, but you don’t see it. You’re too focused on getting to the sweets shop to get your promised chocolate frogs. Once inside, you’re practically dragging Fred from stand to stand. This is something he’s used to. The amount of time the twins and Lee can spend in Zonko’s is the only rival to the amount of time you’ll take to decide which sweets and how many of each you want. The amounts you spend respectively are also similar. 

After Honeydukes, Oliver and Gabrielle say they’re ready to head back, but you look at Fred and ask if he’d want to get butterbeers first. He nods and that’s where the double date ends. Despite no longer having to put on a show for Oliver and Gabrielle, you don’t let go of Fred’s hand until you’re sitting in the booth across from him. 

“Sorry, but I need something to get that tea’s flavor out of my mouth,” you say, reaching to grab a chocolate frog already.

“Oi, make sure some of those make it back to the castle!”

“I’m having one, Fred. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” 

“And you’re thinking about my knickers? Disgusting.” 

You slap his hand that’s resting on the table and he gives you his trademark teasing grin. 

“Oh! You want to know something funny?” 

Fred gives you a look that says, ‘Really? Do you know who you’re talking to?’

“Right, of course you do,” you say flatly before continuing with more in your voice. “Gabrielle says we really work together. She called us cute.” 

Fred tilts his head in confusion. “And why is this funny?” 

“Because we’re not actually dating? It’s like, wow, shocker, two friends get along, totally weird, right?” 

“Ah.” 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Fred. Just amusing to me how easily we pull off the couple look. That’s all.” 

“You’re the one who’s all worried about the castle assuming we’re dating.”

“And you’re the one adding fuel to their fire!” you exclaim before placing your head in your hands. “Oh my Merlin. I think we already bicker like a couple and this isn’t even us getting into it. Remember when you wanted to paint the Transfiguration room red and gold after you got an O on your essay?”

Fred laughs. “You wouldn’t talk to me for a week, even after I told you we weren’t going to do it.”

“It was the principle! I stand by what I did.” 

“Fucking spoke through Lee the entire time too. I think it would’ve been easier if you avoided me for the week rather than that.”

“Why?” you ask through a laugh.

“If you avoided me, you’d be avoiding George and Lee too. It wouldn’t’ve felt like it was just me, you know? But you spoke through Lee. You talked to George. It was so clearly me.” 

“Your dumb idea, your dumb punishment.” 

“So, when you say I really owe you for today…”

“It’s your price to pay. Not George’s and certainly not Lee’s.”

“Right. I figured as much.” 

After you finish your butterbeers, you walk back to the castle. You don’t think about why Fred puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk. It makes you feel a smidge warmer, which is nice since the sun’s gone down. Tired from socializing all day, you head straight to your dorm once you get back to the Gryffindor Common Room. 

You’re tired, but there’s assigned reading to get done so you recline on your bed with your Transfiguration book in front of you. You read about half the chapter when the door opens. Alicia, Angelina and Katie all come in. Katie’s got her school supplies with her so you assume it’s their Chaser Study TIme. 

“So…. Y/N, when were you going to tell us about you ‘n’ Fred?” Angelina asks as she gets her own homework out. 

“Yeah, since when did you start dating?” Alicia adds. 

“Don’t… know…” you say slowly, trying not to lose your spot. “Ask Fred.” 

You had been able to handle Gabrielle outside of the quidditch shop. You barely knew her and could parry her questions easily. These girls? After Fred, George and Lee, they are your next closest friends. You could talk about more girlier topics with them, stuff that you wouldn’t dream of talking about with the boys. 

“Seriously cute together, you know,” Alicia says. 

There’s that word again: cute.

Then she continues, “I knew you’d get with one of the twins. No way you’re that close for so long without doing one of them.”

Katie throws a pillow at her. “Don’t be so crude!”

“I’m just saying! They are fit!” She pointed at Angelina. “And it’s not just them! You remember their older brother – Charlie! Some of them Weasley genes are something else.”

Angelina snorts a laugh. “Some.”

“No, she has a point,” you say, closing your book. You know you’re not going to be able to read any more with these three in the room. “Fred, George, Charlie, dare I say Ron, they all have something that Percy seriously lacks.” 

The rest of the girls start giggling. 

“Looks, personality, charm. You name it!” Katie exclaims. 

After a few more jabs at Percy’s lack of charisma, Angelina turns to you again.

“But really, Y/N, we didn’t even know you had a crush on him. How did it happen?” 

“I… I guess I didn’t know I had a crush on him,” you say. You needed something believable. “He’s just always been my best friend. We’ve been close since first year and it… sorta just happened?” 

“Is he a good kisser?” Katie asks, leaning forward with curiosity.

You turn bright red and look away from the girls. “We, um, we haven’t kissed.”

The room is filled with a mix of gasps and shrieks.

“What do you mean you haven’t kissed?”

“Is that not how you became ‘more than friends’?” 

“I don’t believe you!” 

Their reactions are too much for you. You get off your bed and head for the door.

“I’ll be, uh, back…” you say hurriedly. 

Once the door is closed behind you, you take a deep breath. So you haven’t kissed Fred. You aren’t actually dating. You didn’t need to kiss him. Part of you, however, is wondering if maybe you should’ve lied to the girls, just said that he is a good kisser. Another part of you is wondering what he’s told his friends, what he’s told George and Lee because surely they’ve heard the rumors and knew that you were going on a double date today. Maybe they knew it was all fake – that would make you feel better if they did. 

The common room is empty. You relish the quiet atmosphere as you take a seat in front of the couch on the floor in front of the fireplace. It isn’t too big or providing much warmth, dwindling down to just embers. But it’s something to look at as you think. 

‘Let them,’ Fred had said. ‘We’re leaning into this dating thing.’ 

Right, ignore what people think. It’s your friendship with Fred. That shouldn’t be a spectacle for the whole castle. Even if it seems like Fred likes being the center of gossip.  

---

You’re not sure what possesses you on Monday, but when the twins and the rest of the quidditch team start to head to the pitch, you’re right along with them. Once Fred gets over the momentary shock of seeing you walking with them, he slings his arm around your shoulder like it was something he did every day. After having his arm around you on Saturday, it doesn’t feel so foreign. His arm stays around you until you reach the locker rooms at the pitch. 

“I’ll see you after practice,” you say, turning toward the stand.

Fred watches you until you disappear up the stairs. George and Harry had gone into the locker room without him. George gives Fred a curious look when he does join them, to which Fred just shakes his head in response. If George wanted to ask him about you, it could wait until after practice. 

You take a seat next to Gabrielle, where you had sat at the previous practice. Only this time, it’s just the two of you, no Beatrice. Even with Oliver as her boyfriend, you are still explaining most of the practice to her. You think it’s a fair assumption that she likes you because you explain quidditch in simple terms, leaving out the effects of tailwind on velocity and how much the quaffle should spin if you’re doing a drop pass. 

Your presence next to Grabrielle at practices quickly became commonplace. You both skipped out on Wednesday’s morning practice, but you were back for Thursday and Friday’s practices. Those next two practices, you walked down with Fred’s arm around you. If the rest of the team didn’t believe the dating rumors before, they certainly did now. 

After Friday’s practice, you work on your homework in the common room. There’s a match tomorrow against Hufflepuff and everyone’s been talking about how it’ll be an easy win. That means you need to get your homework done ahead of time because while you can work through your friends’ prank planning, you can’t work through a party. Lee’s sitting next to you as you work. He has his Potions essay in front of him, but with the way his head is propped up on his hand, it’s clear that he’s not working. 

George is the next to join you. Freshly showered and his own essay for Snape in hand, he plops down in the seat next to Lee, leaving one more spot at the table to your right. For Fred, you thought. But Fred doesn’t come down anytime soon after George. You hate that you’re distracted by waiting for him to appear. Instead of working on your Transfiguration assignment, your eyes keep drifting to the boys’ staircase. 

“Snape wants… how many inches again?” George groans, letting the top half of his parchment curl over itself. 

“Two feet,” Lee says. He had managed to get a little bit done with George working on the same assignment. “I’m like six inches short.”

“Ditto… Swap?” 

“Swap.”

You roll your eyes as the boys lean closer together to read each other’s essay in hopes the other has information they can use to fill the last bits of space on their parchment. You’re not judging them. You’ve done the same thing with them before. That’s why you know that it’s more beneficial for them to swap with you than each other. The three boys’ essays always read fairly similar while yours have different points. 

You’re working slower than molasses, trying to finish this one assignment before you give up. Your endless peaks toward the stairs aren’t helping. 

Then he appears. His hair is dryer than when George came down, so you can assume that he hung around his dorm for a while before deciding to grace the common room with his presence. Only when he walks toward your table, you notice that he’s not carrying homework. He’s carrying a red fabric. He sets it in front of you before taking the open seat next to you.

“What’s this?” you ask, picking it up and letting it unfurl.

It was a quidditch jersey. With Weasley and 2 across the back. 

“Girlfriends wear their boyfriend’s jersey to matches,” he says nonchalantly with a smirk. 

You lean closer to him and whisper, “Are we still doing this?”

His smirk turns into a mischievous grin. “Might as well. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Don’t push your luck, Weasley,” you snap, sitting up straighter. 

You quickly gather your things, including the crimson jersey, and head to your dorm. It is fun being with Fred, even if it’s just pretend. Because, well, it’s Fred. Fun is practically synonymous with him. 

That doesn’t mean that you don’t feel odd as you stare at your reflection in the morning, wearing Fred’s extra jersey and jeans. You look positively like a girlfriend. You think about everyone who’s called you and Fred cute. Do you look like his girlfriend? You turn around and then look over your shoulder to see the letters spelling his last name sprawling across your back. 

It’s a shame that your roommates are all on the team and had to be at the field early. There’s no one to tell you that you look okay, that it’s normal for a girlfriend, albeit fake, to wear her boyfriend’s jersey. That it was cute that he gave it to you without you asking. There’s no one here to pull you out of your dorm. You have to go on your own accord. Which you do. Eventually. After talking yourself up in the mirror for a few more minutes. 

The all-consuming out-of-place feeling you have remains as you make your way to the pitch. You can feel eyes on you, on the jersey, reading your back as you pass by. 

W-E-A-S-L-E-Y

You’re branded as his. And you find that you don’t think you would mind it if it wasn’t fake. 

The eyes remain as you find a spot in the stands. You swear you see Ron and Hermione whispering to each other when you pass them. You wonder what Ron thinks about seeing his last name across your back. Why did you care what he thought? 

Then Gabrielle finds you. You feel the weight of feeling out of place lift off of you. She’s wearing Oliver’s jersey. Even if they are a real couple, it’s nice to not be the only one in someone’s jersey. And then you realize why Fred gave you his jersey – Oliver must have mentioned that he was giving his to Gabrielle to wear. First it was practices, then the double date, and now game days. This was for Oliver and Gabrielle. 

Even if that is what this is, you can’t deny the look on Fred’s face when he spots you. You swore you saw him scanning the crowd, looking for you. And when he finds you, he gets the brightest smile you’ve seen from him in a while. Then there’s a yell from Oliver to get into position and Fred’s game face takes over. 

Fred plays better than you’ve ever seen. He’s everywhere and all of his hits are going exactly where he wants them to. And he still has the time to look your way. Sure, he’s looked your way during a match before, but this felt different. You know it’s because he’s pretending to be your boyfriend. The looks aren’t as platonic, if that’s possible. It’s strange that he can make miniscule changes in his expression to convey a deeper meaning that you understand from across the pitch. 

Just as predicted, Hufflepuff doesn’t stand a chance. The score is heavily in Gryffindor’s favor when Harry catches the snitch. You join the rest of the Gryffindors in storming the pitch to congratulate the team. You feel yourself being shoved toward Fred, who picks you up in a bone-crushing hug to spin you around. You let out a giddy laugh that Fred mirrors. Like usual at this point, when he sets you back down, his arm is left slung over your shoulder and your arm is loosely around his waist. Once again, you feel that if anyone was still doubting the status of your relationship with Fred, they wouldn’t now. 

You remain at Fred’s side as he talks with everyone congratulating him on the win. He’s basking in the attention and you can’t help but smile up at him. It’s nice to see your best friend so happy. You miss the knowing look that George gives Fred after seeing you like that. 

Under Fred’s arm you stay until the pitch empties out and the team starts disappearing into the locker room to put away their things before returning to the common room. 

“I’ll see you up there, love,” Fred says softly as he lets go of you.

You smile and wave to him. Just like that Monday practice, Fred watches you walk away until you’re out of sight before going into the locker room. He smiles to himself. He doesn’t even care that George sees him looking like a fool. 

You’ve chosen one of the arm chairs by the fire to sit in while you wait for the team. Can’t really have a party to celebrate their win without them. You’re just observing the other Gryffindors when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“You must be good for him,” Percy says. “Never seen Fred play that well.”

You’re not sure if Percy’s ever actually spoken to you before, besides the occasional side note of telling you to try to keep your friends out of trouble. Like you could control them. 

“Thank you?” you say, it sounding more like a question than anything. 

He nods and walks away. Okay, weird encounter. You shake your head and turn to people-watching. 

A roar of cheers announces the team’s arrival with Oliver and Harry leading the bunch. Anyone who hadn’t gotten the chance to congratulate them on the pitch is crowding them now, clapping hands on their shoulders and backs. Somehow, through the masses, Fred spots you and makes his way toward your chair. You suddenly realize that you haven’t congratulated him yet. 

“You played really well,” you say, grinning up at him.

“I know,” he replies casually, sitting down on the couch right next to you. “Come ‘ere. Let George or Lee sit there.”

You roll your eyes but get up anyway. He grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap. You hadn’t realized that’s what he meant by “Come here.” His lap. You’d sat next to Fred during post-quidditch parties before, but never in his lap. This is new territory that you’re unable to leave because Fred’s got his arm anchored around your waist. 

When George and Lee make their way to the armchair and couch, they are both carrying two drinks. Lee hands one to you and George hands the other to Fred. 

“Thank you very much,” Fred says, enunciating each word. 

“So, Y/N, what have you been doing to him?” Lee asks.

You give him a pointed yet confused look.

“Fred’s accuracy has never been that good.”

You lean forward as much as you can with Fred’s arm holding you in place. 

“What if I told you I tampered with the bludgers?”

“Only to respond to Fred’s bat then? Georgie’s aim could’ve been better.”

“Oi!” George exclaims, looking insulted.

“He’s not wrong,” Fred says with a laugh. 

That was the joke that kept coming back for the rest of the day as your quartet lounged around. The rest of the common room was filled with louder conversation and music. Drinks were passed around and refilled. Someone at some point went to get snacks for everyone. It wasn’t the wildest party Gryffindor’s thrown but it was good. It felt nice to just sit and be held by Fred. 

And then an up-beat, high-tempo song comes. It gets the attention of several people and suddenly, the area behind the couch is filled with people dancing. 

You lean backwards to whisper into Fred’s ear, “Care to dance?” 

He nods and loosens his grip on your waist, allowing you to get up. You grab his head and lead him to where the dancing is happening. You don’t think about what you’re doing. All you know is that the music is very danceable. It’s easy to match the energy of the people around you. And it’s even easier when Fred’s hands find your hips to hold your body closer to his, moving in sync. 

For half a second, you want to take a step backwards and say, ‘Leave room for Merlin’ with a laugh. But you remember that you’re still leaning into the dating rumors. You let Fred continue to move your body, even if it made your heart pound in a way you didn’t want to think about. Song after song, you’re up against Fred. You’ve never been this close to him, never been able to feel his body, his muscles like this, never been able to smell his cologne this strongly. (Why they showered in the locker rooms after games and not practices is lost on you.)

Eventually, you tire and drag Fred back to the couch. Lee and George have disappeared elsewhere so it’s just you and him. And a few other Gryffindors but you weren’t talking to them. He sits down first and pulls you back into his lap, resuming how you were before you got up to dance. 

“You’re still in my jersey,” Fred mutters as his fingers play with the hem of it.

“I didn’t know if I should’ve changed after the game.”

“You decided correctly.”

“Gabrielle still wearing Oliver’s?”

“I’d assume so… Although I haven’t seen them in a while so she might not be anymore…” His voice trails off as he waggles his eyes.

“Oh my Godric! You did not need to go there!” 

He laughs. “But you know it’s true.”

“And you know I didn’t need to think about Oliver naked.” 

“Are you thinking about…” A mischievous glint sparkles in Fred’s eyes. “Wood’s wood?”

You slap his shoulder, which only makes him laugh louder. 

“You are disgusting, Fred Weasley.” 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you blush,” he says teasingly. 

It’s then that you realize his comment did make you blush. You hide your face in his shoulder. The arm that’s wrapped around you gives you a little squeeze. 

“Ah, come on, love. I’m just teasin’. You know that.” 

“I do,” you mumble into his shoulder. “I just don’t talk about people’s… wood with you guys.” 

Now Fred’s desperately trying to get your face out of his shoulder, moving it backwards and using his other hand to create space between your cheek and his shoulder.

“Are you saying you discuss that with not guys?” he asks with a cheeky grin. 

Your blush deepens to match the jersey you’re wearing. 

“Oh my Merlin, you do!” 

You groan loudly and attempt to hide your face again, but Fred doesn’t let you.

“Tell me, does mine come up?” 

Despite his grip on you, you rip yourself off of his lap. You did not need to tell Fred that, yes, you and your roommates had discussed what you thought each guy in your year was packing. Those were conversations that are better left in the confines of your dorm. You decide that that’s enough for the night. You’ve danced, drank and chatted. You can go to bed without anyone calling you a party pooper. 

But then Fred’s arm is around your waist again and he’s directing you to the boys’ stairs rather than the girls’.

“Weasley,” you warn quietly. 

A quick glance over your shoulder has you seeing George, Lee and their other roommate, Kenneth. Still, Fred continues to push you up the stairs and into their dorm. Your mind is spinning. What was he expecting?

He closes the door behind you and then lays down on his bed. His eyes flutter closed. You stand by the door, unmoving for a minute.

“You going to stand there all night?” he asks, not opening his eyes. 

“I… I hope you’re not… ah, expecting anything?” 

He pats the area on his bed next to him. You reluctantly sit on the edge of the bed near where he patted. You’re sitting too far away for Fred’s liking. You’d laid on his bed before. It was always his bed you laid on when the four of you hung out in their dorm. Kenneth was often banished the moment you showed up. 

“Y/N, I’m going to jump or anything,” Fred says, peeking through his eyelids to see you sitting just within arms reach. “If that’s what you’re thinking… Because of what I said downstairs…”

“Yeah…” you murmur.

Then you move more onto his bed and recline slowly. You’re both laying on your backs, shoulder to shoulder. Fred’s got his hands behind his head and you’re hugging yourself. 

After a few minutes of silence, you ask, “So why couldn’t I go to my dorm?” 

“Wasn’t done hanging out with you.” 

You snort a laugh. “Right.”

“I made a dumb comment, yeah? And then you go hide away for the rest of the night? Nah.”

“Nah,” you echo softly. “So you figure that you’ll drag me up here to what?” 

He hums. “This.”

“Stare at your canopy?”

“I guess.” He pauses before adding, “Anything really. ‘S my job to keep you from hiding in your dorm all night.”

“It’s a perfectly reasonable time to go to bed!” 

��You’d be doing homework! Reading your Transfiguration book or something.”

“And this is so much better?” 

“Yes.” 

Silence falls between you again, but it isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Thank goodness Fred’s your best friend or you’re certain it would be uncomfortable to lay next to him like this. There’s a question that you keep turning over in your mind that you can’t bring yourself to ask. You want to know how long Fred plans on pretending to be your boyfriend. Should you be pretend-breaking it off soon so that your friend group can stay intact without being weird? Do George and Lee know it’s fake? Lee didn’t appear to know it was, but maybe he was acting earlier. But as you lay next to Fred, now doesn’t feel like the right time to ask him. 

When his breathing evens out to shallow breaths, you look over at him. He is most definitely sleeping. You smile at his peaceful form. Then you get up and quietly leave his dorm. You’re not sure what time it is, but you’re trying to be sneaky. You are leaving the boys’ dorms after a party and that could start some more rumors if you aren’t careful. You think you’ve successfully switched from the boys’ stairs to the girls’ when a hand grabs your bicep. 

“Y/N.” 

George. 

You turn and give him a polite smile. 

“Um, you know you could’ve spent the night,” he says rather sheepishly. “Me and Lee, we don’t mind. And Towler can deal.” 

So maybe George doesn’t know it was fake. 

“Thanks, George, but I think it’s too soon to be spending the night,” you say. 

He nods and lets go of your arm, like he didn’t realize he was still holding onto it. You head up the rest of the stairs. Maybe you should ask Fred at some point what he did tell George and Lee about this faux relationship. 

---

You never can ask him. You can’t bring yourself to ask Fred when this is going to end, how it’s going to end and what did he tell your friends. The moment never feels right. 

It doesn’t help that pretending to be Fred’s girlfriend gets easier with each passing day. It’s just like being best friends, but on overdrive. There are also more times when Fred leaves George and Lee behind to find you, to hang out with you. He’s even gone to the library to study with you when you needed extra books for an assignment. 

The one thing that might have had people second guessing your relationship was a lack of public kissing. There was the occasional kiss pressed to your hairline or your forehead or your cheek, but that was it. The top of the head kisses weren’t new. Fred and George had given you those over the years as you helped with pranks or various homework assignments. But the first time Fred kissed your cheek, it left you more flustered than you would ever admit. It was the most genuine affection you had ever received from a boy. It wasn’t followed by an off-hand ‘you’re the best.’ No. The kiss had been placed on your cheek right before Fred left breakfast early, having forgotten his homework in his dorm. It was a goodbye kiss that you hadn’t been expecting. A goodbye kiss that had you hiding behind your mug for the rest of breakfast, willing your blush to disappear. 

You went to Hogsmeade with Fred, George and Lee. They went into Zonko’s, leaving you to either follow them around for at least an hour in that shop or go off on your own for a bit. You chose the latter, not caring to look over the same products that they would spend another hour in their dorm later showing you. You wander around for a little bit before going into Spintwitches. You’re not exactly sure why, but you were drawn inside. You look around, thinking about how Fred really had been performing better this term.

You stop in front of the beater section of the store. In the middle of the display is a new bat that you’ve heard Fred talk about for months. He even wrote about it in his letters to you over the summer. Something about it having better grip and a special weight distribution to help with aim. You’re not really sure what made it all that special, but you’re sure that Fred wants it. You barely glance at the cost before telling the shopkeep that you’d like to buy it. 

You claim a booth in the Three Broomsticks and wait for the boys. Meeting them there after their Zonko’s visit was the usual plan and sure enough, after fifteen minutes or so, they appear. 

“Got you somethin’,” you say casually as Fred slides onto the bench next to you. 

His eyes go wide as you place the box in front of him. George has an identical look on his face, staring at the box.

“Y/N… you shouldn’t have…” 

“You’ve been eyeing it for months. Plus, isn’t this what girlfriends do? Spoil our boyfriends?” you say with a teasing lilt. 

Fred pulls you into a tight hug and whispers, “Leaning into it now, are you?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Now, you really owe me.”

Fred chuckles as he pulls back.

“No, really, Y/N, thank you.” 

“Wait, where’s mine?” George asks. “I want a new bat!”

“Get a girlfriend, then mate,” Lee laughs.

For the rest of the time that you’re in Hogsmeade, Fred keeps stealing glances at you. You don’t notice, nor do you notice the way that when he does look at you, it’s with the softest look, full of adoration. 

In your head, you know that Fred doesn’t owe you. If he was your real boyfriend, you would’ve bought the bat for him without a second thought. You would’ve suffered through as many Madam Puddifoot’s dates with Oliver and Gabrielle as he needed you to. You would spend the night in his dorm, rather than leave when he falls asleep. You would do anything for him. 

---

It’s about halfway through December when something changes. 

“Y/N!” Fred calls from across the corridor. He didn’t have a class last period and it looks like he’s been waiting for you. He jogs up to you. “Mum wants to know when you’ll be joining us at the Burrow.”

You look taken aback. You shake your head briefly to shake the confused look from your features.

“I didn’t know I was coming to the Burrow?”

“You’re my girlfriend. Of course you’re coming to the Burrow,��� he says like it’s common knowledge. 

You grab his arm and pull into the nearest alcove, away from the students now filling the corridor. 

“Fake girlfriend. I didn’t know that this extended past the wall of Hogwarts?” 

Fred runs an anxious hand through his hair. “Well, I mean, Ginny’s written to Mum about you. I think Perc has mentioned you too.. You have to come. I think Mum would murder me if I broke up with you right before Christmas.” 

“Merlin, Fred!” you sigh exasperated, throwing your head back and reaching to run a hand through your own hair. 

“Did it get a bit out of hand? Yes. But… I mean… I’m not complaining.”

“You got a happy captain and a new bat. You have no reason to complain.” 

He huffs a laugh. “I have one reason to complain.”

“Really?” you say disbelievingly. 

You cross your arms and give Fred an expectant look.

“Yes, a happy captain is good and the new bat was a widely unexpected plus. But spending time with you and seeing you in my jersey? Fuck Y/N…” He paused momentarily, giving you the brief impression that spending time with you was his complaint. “My complaint is that you keep saying this is fake.” 

Your expression immediately scrunches into something resembling confusion. 

“Because it is? You said I’m your friend who is a girl. You called this fun.” You try to take in Fred’s unreadable expression. “Isn’t that all it’s been? Just fun to mess with people for believing a rumor? And to make Oliver happy?”

“That’s… That’s certainly how it started.”

A beat passes.

“And now?” you ask. 

“I don’t think I can go back to being just friends.”

Oh. 

“This… more than friends… I want it. I want it with you.”

Oh.

He stares into your eyes for a few seconds, searching for something, some kind of reaction beyond shock. Then he leans in quickly. The kiss is soft, gentle and barely there. But it happened. His lips touched yours and now you’re breathless. 

He takes a step back and presses his lips together for a moment. He’s still watching you. 

“Y/N… please say something,” he whispers.

Right, words. You need to say those. You open your mouth but all that comes out is a squeak. 

“Is… Is that a good noise? Bad noise? Should I be running? Groveling? Going to tell George and Lee I just ruined our group?”

“Burrow,” you manage to say.

You want to disappear on the spot. That’s the word you went with? Your brain must’ve short circuited because that didn’t answer a single one of Fred’s flurry of questions. Except he seems to understand what you meant as he sighs with a small smile playing at his lips. 

“Mum’s not expecting you to stay for the whole time. Honestly, I think she’d love to have you for one day. I’d like to have you there for a few days, but I know I kinda sprung this on you and you probably already have plans with your family.”

You nod. You don’t trust yourself to speak just yet. Not when your last attempt ended up with you saying ‘Burrow.’ Fred watches intently as you walk deeper into the alcove and sit down beneath the window. He cautiously sits next to you, unsure of what else to do. 

“How long?” you ask quietly.

“As long as you want to stay. Mum loves hosting people.”

You shake your head and take a deep breath.

“When did it stop being fake for you?” you ask, clarifying your previous question.

“Oh…” he says with a sharp breath. “When you started regularly coming to practice. 

That wasn’t long after this whole thing started, you realize. It was before he even gave you his jersey. Before you randomly gifted him a new beater’s bat. So this whole semester that you’ve been having to remind yourself that it’s fake, he’s been having to do the same thing?

“Love, can you say something?” he asks, his voice shaky and unsure. “Where do we stand?” 

“I… I kept saying it was fake to remind myself that it was, that we were doing this for fun.”

Fred waits a moment for you to say more, but when you don’t, he asks again, “So where do we stand?”

“You don’t need to tell George and Lee that you ruined the friend group. As long as you don’t break my heart.” 

tags: @navs-bhat

[butterflydm]

WoT 3x05 Deep Dive (additional book spoilers)

Spoilers through 3x05 of the show and through the last book, A Memory of Light. This is mostly a tag-along to my show-spoilers post, covering the thoughts that required extra book spoilers.

So. Is Verin the twelfth Black Ajah sister of the ones that Liandrin knew about? The one who was left behind? Or was it Alviarin?

I do think Verin is a possibility, because I think that Verin has been contacted and used by Lanfear -- back in s2, I suspected that Tomas was the person who knocked out Mat to deliver him to Lanfear. And it's Verin who met up with Moiraine in 3x01 before Lanfear just conveniently wandered down the correct road to find them. As if she knew exactly where they would be.

Of course, our Verin has her own plots and plans in motion but, right now, I think she probably thinks that going along with Lanfear is likely the best way of helping the Dragon as much as she can, since Lanfear is the only Forsaken who doesn't want to hurt Rand. Essentially, she's playing the same game as Moiraine did in 3x01.

otoh, Nyomi did not seem to know about Verin; and Verin seemed genuinely distraught about Adelas. So it might be that, yes, Verin is working for Lanfear (part-time) but she's not one of the Black Ajah Sisters that Liandrin knows about -- maybe that one, the twelfth one of the four hearts, is Alviarin.

(in theory, it might be Sheriam, but since the actress isn't in this season, I lean towards it not being her)

Unfortunately, I feel like the encounter with Elaida is going to lead to Siuan letting her guard down slightly, now that she feels convinced that Elaida is not Black Ajah, not realizing that's not the only threat that Elaida can pose. Meanwhile, Elaida seems way more focused on the fact that Siuan set her up than that Siuan healed her.

Given That One Thing that Alanna does in the books, I don't begrudge the time that we're spending here on showing how desperate she's becoming. I think the viewers understanding how she gets to the place where she's willing to force a bond on the Dragon Reborn is time worth spending.

I do suspect that Maksim may die at the end of the season (or, rather in 3x07), because right now he is still serving as something of a brake on her going full-bore "ends justify the means". But this episode shows us that she is willing to use herself up in this cause, and I feel like knowing that is helpful for the future.

Will Dain still get his book storyline of being able to get over his hatred of Aes Sedai and his need for revenge enough to work with Perrin in the Last Battle? Or is Dain going to die, and Galad will take up that storyline? I have always felt like it's a bit redundant for them both to get that same narrative of learning to work with Perrin.

We did see Whitecloaks fighting with the Two Rivers people against Trollocs in the trailer, so it might be that Dain redeems himself. But the fact that he handed Natti Cauthon over to be tortured and murdered by Valda makes me feel like it's MUCH less likely that he'll survive this season to get his full book storyline. Just like the show has taken a pretty hard line on the Seanchan, it feels like they're taking a harder line against the Whitecloaks as well.

We will see how it plays out!

Also! This episode continues Perrin's theme of "people shouldn't be in cages", which feels promising. I wonder how we might continue that theme in the future with him, especially with the harder line the show has taken on the Seanchan. It feels like the show may be less inclined to take Perrin in a "willing to sell hundreds of women into slavery to save his wife" sort of direction than the books went, though time will tell.

So, my assumption is that Melindhra is still a Darkfriend spy, just as she was in the books. I am leaning towards thinking that she's been claimed by Sammael, who I suspect is going to be behind the attack on Cold Rocks Hold that I think will happen next episode. The main question that I have is if Melindhra's true loyalties will be revealed in 3x06 and if she'll die at that time, or if her true loyalties will remain unknown and her character will continue on.

If Melindhra is revealed to be a Darkfriend, then that could lead towards Lan deciding that her urging him to retake Malkier was an attempt to distract him away from helping Moiraine and Rand, and that would help explain why he puts that all to the side for the duration of the series (until we get to nearer to the Last Battle).

The show has definitely done a lot more to show us why people become Darkfriends, and why even our heroes might be tempted by the pitches that Darkfriends make -- Melindhra making the case to Lan to go and reclaim Malkier is a much better pitch than her trying to urge Mat out of Rand's shadow in the books, which was something that tempted Mat not at all, just as Rand was never tempted by Lanfear after he learned who she really was. The Darkfriends in the show are just better at manipulation than the Darkfriends in the books.

The big issue in Rand & Egwene's relationship is that they lack conflict-resolution skills and it leads to them never being able to talk out their differences.

Who on the show has already illustrated excellent communication and conflict-resolution skills (specifically when it comes to Rand & Aviendha, her two prospective lovers)?

Our girl Elayne!

I am a little sad we lost Rand doing the roofmistress ritual but I think we got the essence of that scene when we got him doing Aviendha's version of the Rhuidean presentation scene, so I'm okay with it. All the essential elements were in that scene, I think. Rand's willingness to try his best to do the right thing by Aiel culture but not knowing the correct ritual because he's copying someone else is there, and also the Shaido disliking that his incorrect ritual was accepted as good enough.

I like that Aviendha is being forced to teach Rand because of her own stubbornness about him being the Car'a'carn as opposed to it being the Wise Ones trying to spy on him or them trying to get him to fall in love with her. This is about teaching Rand Aiel ways and about teaching Aviendha that the more stubborn she is about denying true things, the more they will force her to face those things.

Of course, it seems clear from a book reader perspective that a lot of Aviendha's stubbornness here is about seeing her futures in the rings and not wanting to admit that any of what she saw could really be in her future, and disliking every moment when Rand does something that she finds attractive or appealing, because it reveals to her that her future path really is what she's meant to do.

The very first thing that Aviendha pokes Rand about is whether or not wetlanders share lovers. I see you, girl! I see you pondering what you saw in the rings. Presumably, she's concerned about being a homewrecker, since the Aiel grow up being taught that wetlanders 'own' each other in relationships (per what Aviendha said to Perrin last season). It is definitely a shift from the books in several ways -- it's really only Aviendha's own honor and pride that are at stake here, since Rand and Elayne aren't involved; and Aviendha isn't close to Egwene (so she wouldn't be stepping on the toes of anyone that she feels like a 'near-sister' to if she developed feelings for Rand). She might also be concerned that her destiny is to carry the emotional weight of the relationship with Rand all by herself, given that she makes it clear she thinks that the emotional weight in a relationship is best shared by (at least) three people.

When she gets it re-affirmed to her that wetlanders don't share lovers as a rule, she gets grumpy over it and takes it out on Rand. Again, I see you, girl.

I... it is an interesting choice for the show to deliberately tie Egwene's motivation in this season to devoting herself to Rand, and doing everything to try to help and protect Rand, while Rand's endgame love interests are both helping Rand (though unwillingly in Aviendha's case) but are very much currently not doing things 'for' Rand, but are working on their own agendas as people (Aviendha's main struggle is learning to see herself as a Wise One instead of a Maiden, and her storyline with Rand is in service to that; while Elayne's storyline is helping Rand in the sense that Liandrin is a direct and present danger to him, but her motivations are centered around her own sense of agency and 'earning' her crown instead of it being handed to her, and helping with the Last Battle).

Because, gotta admit it, Egwene is reminding me of book!Min right now. Everything in her life revolves around Rand; even her personal studies (philosophy in Min's case; channeling in Egwene's) are explicitly about helping her be better about helping Rand. Part of the reason that it's interesting to me is because there were also times in s2 when 'Selene' and her approach to a relationship with Rand strongly reminded me of book!Min -- in that case, using deception to get herself into a relationship with him, and now this characterization that they've given Lanfear of reflecting back to Rand/LTT what he wants to see and hiding any of the rest of herself from him.

My current assumption is that this arc with Egwene is leading up to her regaining her sense of needing to further her own agenda and destiny rather than dedicating herself to Rand, but I have to admit that I'm getting somewhat impatient about it happening and I really hope that 3x06 marks a big change in how Egwene and Rand relate to each other because it feels like they've been treading water for a long time (this is, by far, the longest time they've ever spent together on the show, so that contributes to my feelings, I'm sure).

The thing I am worried about for 3x06 is that it'll be spun as a cheating narrative where Rand is The Bad Guy (TM) and Egwene is The Innocent And Perfect Victim (TM), but what I would like is Egwene taking the stance of "okay, you are being stalked in your dreams, just like I am, even if it's a different type of stalking, so let me teach you how to kick Lanfear out of your head" and that being how they transition out of being 'lovers' and into being friends.

The uncertainty of how the show will play the Randfear dreams is definitely part of what is currently making me nervous. Rand and Egwene's relationship has, so far, been the weakest part of the season for me, so I'm really hoping that turns around in 3x06 and that I can like and appreciate it for what it is in the show, instead of just wishing that it could be over and done with so that we could get on with the Rand relationship dynamics that I like better, lol.

But Randgwene is really the relationship where I am most trying to force myself to Embrace The Process and Be Patient and Let Them Cook, lol. It happens pretty naturally with the other storylines!

One of the main differences between show!TAR and book!TAR is the absence of the space between dreams -- instead, Egwene just jumps directly between the dreams of her friends. We also have Egwene being able to take Moiraine from her own dream into Siuan's, which I don't think is ever a thing that is shown as being possible in the books. So those are two major changes.

On the subject of changes to the magic... my theory about Sea Folk and channeling in the show -- strong channelers become Windfinders and weak channelers become Sailmistresses.

Nynaeve being the peacemaker between Mat and Elayne is somewhat hilarious but also is very fitting to how show!Nynaeve's relationship with Mat is much closer and more affectionate than book!Nynaeve's relationship with Mat ever was.

So... Min and Elayne's big introduction scene to each other and it doesn't get marked out at all -- the emphasis of the scene is on Min & Mat's relationship, and on her relief when Mat says that she can be trusted. I really am leaning towards Min being cut out of the future Randmance, for a variety of reasons, but this run of episodes with Min & Elayne kinda feels like the final test of whether or not they plan to include her.

On a similar note, Elayne's dream did more to sell me on the show doing Avilayne this early than actually hooking them up in 3x01 did, because it reinforces the "last night of freedom" vibe in a more emotionally deep way -- it associates Aviendha with freedom in Elayne's mind.

Processing them doing Avilayne first has led me down several rabbit holes and is one of the main things that has made me think that Min is potentially out of the polycule -- because my initial assumption is that Rand-Min would get together while Aviendha-Elayne were getting together (so like s5), and they would both be friends-to-lovers slowburns. Jumping Avilayne to already hooking up, and then getting them together with Rand in s4 makes it feel much less likely that they would have Rand get together with Min later on, because without a mirroring relationship of Avilayne getting together, it could potentially feel very unbalanced to an audience that is used to monogamous couples, where even asking them to accept a throuple is a bit of a leap.

Every time I think about the Stabbening viewing and what it implies about the future, it drives me a little wild. Because that wound is what kills Rand in the books! It just doesn't kill him until Shayol Ghul, when it breaks open again in the Dark One's prison. And it only kills his body, not his soul. But Min's viewing was right. Mat did stab Rand and that wound will kill Rand. It'll just take some time to get there.

[belphegorsheart]

faith ㅤ᭢ ܍ tom riddle

the golden boy of slytherin house is a largely inaccessible figure— few know much of him past his charm and all too thin smile. which leaves you to wonder… who is he really?

main course tom riddle x reader

details one-shot, gender neutral reader

perfect tom riddle. prefect, head boy; amiable with just about everyone, considerate, top of his class. all while hailing from meager beginnings— an orphan, raised among impoverished muggle children without a clue about the true extent of his power. humble tom riddle, gracious tom riddle. this is the persona that the students of hogwarts have become acquainted with over the seven years he has spent roaming its hallowed halls.

it is also a facade.

and you know it.

perhaps it was your intuition… or maybe it was the fact that your ‘closeness’ with tom gave you a closer look into his psyche than most would be privy to. but you don’t understand. if he is aware of how you are scrutinizing him and his every intention, he hides it very well.

“what is it?” you snap to attention as tom’s voice cuts through your internal monologue.

both of you are hunched over desks in the slytherin commons, the stacks upon stacks of tomes barring your view of him. you hum noncommittally in reply.

“oh, nothing.” you plant your cheek in your palm, tapping your quill relentlessly against the table. this is entirely purposeful. you’ve noticed that every single time you do it— if only for a split second— you spot undisguised disdain on tom’s face. a split second of irritation before he corrects himself in some vain attempt to appear more tolerant than he really is.

“… you keep staring. is there something you wish to discuss?” his tone is clipped, moderate. the politeness grates on you.

you hesitate, not wanting to rock the fragile stilts of the ‘connection’ you have to tom. referring to it as “a relationship” feels like an exaggeration of the truth; despite the rumors that have made their way from every seventh to first year that you and tom are romantically involved. they aren’t unfounded, either… after all, he walks you everyday from potions to charms, studies with you, brings you as his date to all of professor slughorn’s parties, and every day you are the only person that he is seen alone with on a regular basis.

tom riddle is easily the most well liked boy in hogwarts. the only person unenchanted by him is professor dumbledore, though you don’t have a clue why. perhaps he sees what you do— that lack of a glimmer in his eyes. the little lie.

he compliments you, smiles just when it’s right and tells you all that he knows you’d like to hear. saccharine promises where he smoothly assures you that you are special and clever and more than what other people say you are. and the flattery would go right to your head, the way it has to slughorn and many of tom’s eager followers, but it doesn’t. because while he may lie, his eyes may not.

there is no true soul or emotion behind his kindness, no real admiration or passion. you wondered at first, if this was your fault. if he simply reserved his affections for other, more important people. but you observed tom closely. this performance of his was for all eyes, it seemed. but why? why would he need to pretend? what was he hiding?

“you’re doing it again…” tom sits silently before he chuckles, though even that feels rehearsed. “if there is something troubling you, you may confide in me.”

“is there something you want from me?” the words have slipped out before you can reign them in. “i’m sorry, i just… i simply don’t understand your interest in me.”

“do you mean to imply i have ulterior motives?” tom asks teasingly. you pay close attention to the undertone of condescension in his voice.

“no, no, not at all!” you start, oh so tentatively broaching the topic… “i’d like to know you better. i feel as if… i don’t understand you.”

“is that so?” you can’t see him past the books, but you imagine he’s turned smug at this. “i don’t believe you do.”

“that i want to know you, or that i don’t understand you?” you snip back.

“both.” tom replies curty.

“but i do… i want to understand you.” you move a stack of books out of the way so that you can make proper eye contact with him. “there’s more.” you go on, leaning forward in your chair.

he raises his eyebrow as indication for you to continue. you oblige. “i was simply… confused. about our status. there are rumors, after all…”

“about?” tom asks, acting as if he has no idea.

“our… relation… to each other.” your skin prickles with heat as you avert your gaze from his. tom’s beauty is transcendent, everyone knows it… he gets his way so easily. it disarms you.

“is that so…” tom hums, and gingerly places his quill on the desk. “what about it?”

“are we friends, or… more? forgive me if my assumptions are unfounded, but after you had asked me to accompany you to slughorn’s party, i thought that was…” you trail off, flustered.

“is that what you desire?” he asks. you chew on your lip thoughtfully… do you? and before you can answer, he does for you. “i suppose it is their expectation, considering our… closeness. we are both top of our year after all.”

“but…” you begin, biting your tongue.

he raises his eyebrow. “yes?”

“when you look at me… there’s… nothing there. you smile, but, there’s no… warmth.” you stare holes into your textbook. you don’t want to see whatever expression he’s carefully practiced to evoke guilt in you.

it does not come. “you are far too observant for your own good.”

tom’s eyes are just the same as they almost always are when you believe he is not performing— cold, soulless, and entirely apathetic. but you’ve been given a moment of grace to be able to see this true and honest facet of him.

“i know you. we’ve spoken at length. i know you have ambitions… so do i.” his manner of speech is so utterly clinical that it unnerves you. “i have seen you, when you believe you are alone. i see no reason to prolong a charade when our interests are aligned.”

“what interests?” you ask, your throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry.

“you have something… that i want to use.” tom smiles sardonically, his eyes narrowed. “i have made friends in our year who share my vision for the world. but there is something to be gained here for the two of us.”

“what do you have that i could want?” his chair creaks as he makes his way over to your side of the desk. he leans forward, his arms folded behind him.

“information.” he slowly produces a book from inside his coat— a book you recognize. one on enchantments that have been banned from libraries across the globe… with entries on the philosopher’s stone. immortality has always been of interest to you. how did he get it out of the restricted section?

“it’s incredibly simple. i get what i want, as do you.” how can someone be so detached? so utterly lacking in humanity, and feeling?

“if i refuse?” you expect him to react with frustration, but he doesn’t. he just smirks, as if he’s already got you in the palm of his hand.

“have you ever heard the term, ‘mutually assured destruction’?” tom drawls, as if the fright on your face is entertaining him.

“you don’t have anything on me.” you stand up, pushing your chair in and looking to dust off your coat and head out. but he grabs your wrist icily.

“oh, but i do,” he tilts his head. “you see, i seem to recall a certain someone being incredibly helpful to me during my fifth year. unwittingly, albeit, i doubt that matters when you’ve lied to our headmaster...”

and that’s when your blood runs cold. “no.”

“you should consider it a compliment. i wouldn’t have divulged anything, had you been more daft.” tom lets his hand skate over the desk, to the leather bound notebook he always keeps close to his person. “i’d like to employ your assistance.”

he’s right by your ear, and it’s as if all your nerve endings have been set alight. you’re terrified, and unfortunately, your feelings have passed a dark shroud your judgment. privately, you curse the rapid beating of your heart.

“why do you think i requested favors, then? asking you to make excuses for my absences to our professors?” tom closes in on your personal space, so horrifyingly aware of the effect his presence has on you. “the basilisk killings had just begun. you had an inkling, didn’t you? some part of you must have realized… how when i disappeared, the slaughter would begin again… and oh, when i asked you to claim you’d seen that oaf hagrid let his foul beast attack that filthy little mudblood …”

you panic, your eyes going wide. “no, you— you told me he had done it, that it was the right thing to do, that he was—”

“you knew,” he hisses lowly, keeping your wrist in his grasp as he raises it in the air. “you knew it wasn’t him. but you took my side… because you fancy me.” and tom sneers so cruelly as he says it.

your voice wavers. “no, that’s not why i…” you’re silenced as tom collects both your wrists in one hand, his nose brushing yours. wordlessly, he uses his free hand to grasp your chin roughly. you feel his breath against your face, and it’s so unbearably overwhelming as your heart jumps from your throat to pound on your ears—

“that is all the proof i need.” he mocks, releasing your wrists and stepping away from you.

you stagger in front of the desk, clutching your chest as you breathe heavily, still delirious and caught in shock.

“entertain this charade with me. consider it a kindness that i’ve deigned to play the role of your paramour.” tom waves his hand in the air, collecting his books, and inconspicuously tucking the stolen tome into his coat. “you’re a pureblood, and proficient enough in spells to be useful to me. you will do nicely.”

“i don’t understand,” you choke out. “what is it that you truly want from me?”

a smirk grows on his face, as if he’s thinking of some inside joke he has with himself.

“… you will carry a shard of my soul.”

[bitstitchbitch]

Sunrise on The Reaping spoilers below the cut (also original trilogy spoilers):

i love that they showed this early stage of the rebellion. it makes me so fascinated about all the failed attempts that must have happened over the years. and it makes it all the more interesting to me that, while they chose haymitch to sabotage the arena, they didn't choose katniss (in the first games)

which also makes me wonder why. Did haymitch keep them away from her? she made an impression just from volunteering, and with the hand signal her district gave her. if they were going to approach her, the most obvious way would have been through haymitch, knowing that haymitch was already aware of who was involved in the rebellion (meaning no extra risk by telling someone new).

so the question is, did the rebellion not try to approach katniss before the first games, or did they try and haymitch warded them off? i can see haymitch telling the rebellion that katniss was no good as an actor, that she had a family she wasn't willing to risk, so she wouldn't be a good fit. Because let's face it, if katniss had been trying in that first book, she wouldn't have made a very good rebel. The things that made katniss a symbol were things she did unprompted, without fully understanding that she was inciting rebellion. first book katniss was only trying to stay alive until the very end, and even with the berry trick, she was trying to stay alive and just bring peeta with her. she bet on them needing a victor. it wasn't a true suicide attempt.

obviously they approach her in catching fire. but notably, even then they don't bring her into the full plan. maybe because at that point, there are rebellion adults (beetee and wiress at a minimum, presumably finnick and johanna have had previous involvement too) so they don't want to bring the kids (katniss + peeta) into it any more than necessary. but haymitch is clearly fully involved at that point. At what point did that happen?

I desperately want the first book from haymitch's pov now. I know it won't happen, but can you imagine? Seeing all the backstage conversations? If beetee and others were recruiting tributes way back in haymitch's games, they must have had an eye on katniss, especially after she put the flowers around Rue. That was something tributes did in pretty much every game we've seen btw - some kind of tribute for the dead that they forced onto cameras. And every time it's a blaring sign of rebellion. And that's if they didn't start watching her as soon as she volunteered. i think even if katniss' first hunger games had gone "normally" and peeta had died, katniss would have been tapped for the rebellion, just in a lesser role

idk, it's just very very fascinating. SoTR comes with a lot of little implications, but it doesn't feel contrived because i do think it really explains and expands upon how we got from book 1 to book 2. because in the trilogy, it feels a little like the rebellion plan is cooked up out of nowhere. In SoTR, we find out that these people have been rebelling for at least 25 years already. it makes sense that they all know and trust one another. it makes sense how plutarch fits in, how beetee and haymitch fit in.

i've seen people say that having haymitch be a rebel makes him a chosen one, but i don't think that's true at all. i think haymitch being a rebel makes katniss less of a chosen one. she just got (un)lucky because she showed up at the boiling point and brought them all over the edge.

[norrissm]

⌗ under the city lights — ln4

stranger!lando x reader. fluff. accidental meeting. meeting a handsome stranger one night wasn’t what you expected after a rough day but the universe for your back. ★ LIBRARY

the thing about strangers is that they remain strangers. unknown, masked and blurred faces walking in masses from places unknown to destinations unremarkable to us. a brief moment of eyes contract, muffled excuse mes, thank yous and maybe even a smile, if you meet a particularly nice one, otherwise they remain unnamed. just another face in a myriad group of faces.

they pass you by on dimly lit streets, their hands buried in coat pockets, their minds preoccupied with places they need to be, people they need to see. most of the time, you don’t stop. you don’t turn around. you don’t wonder about the way their mouth curls slightly at the corners, like they know a secret the rest of the world hasn’t figured out yet.

its unremarkable really.

except tonight you do. particularly— you walk into him.

a hurried pace destined to the station, neck peeping out the thick sweater, mind preoccupied by a thousand thoughts. maybe he was the same. eyes looking forward but not really. eyes hiding the roar of thoughts and feelings, walking on default, legs moving with a determination of their own— knowing exactly where to stop. albeit failing to see you. a body coming from the opposite.

“shit—sorry,” you say, stumbling back a step.

“no, that was—yeah, my bad,” he replies at the exact same time.

out of habit or maybe manners or maybe both, we bend down to retrieve what had fallen with a dull thud — the keys or your book, something unmemorable really — when our fingers grazed. suddenly it was remarkable.

i looked up to find him looking at me already.

strangers don’t do that. there’s no emotion behind the accidental eye contacts while walking or sitting in the train. it’s just a brush of eyes with no real motive. this was different. he looked at me with a motive.

his hair is a little messy, like he’s run his hands through it too many times today. there’s a faint crease between his brows, the kind that suggests he overthinks things, and his lips part slightly like he has something to say but isn’t sure if he should say it.

he was the first one to ask. “are you okay?” no one’s moved to leave yet. why?

“yeah i’m alright, you?” i ask too. he nods, his hands in his pocket again. his eyes stayed on mine. no that’s not right, right?

“do you, uh…” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “do you always bump into strangers like this, or am i just lucky?”

you want to tell him that this is ridiculous, that strangers don’t linger on sidewalks and exchange unnecessary words about nothing in particular—but you don’t. instead, you look at him, and for the first time tonight, you don’t feel like you need to be anywhere else.

“depends,” i say instead. shocked at myself. “do you make small talk with people you knocked down?” he’s a stranger.

“depends, are you worth knowing?”

my smile deepens, slow and knowing, and suddenly, the night doesn’t seem so quiet anymore.

its remarkable really.

a/n :: i think this is my favourite one ive written so far.

reblog and follow <3 all rights reserved ©️norrissm please do not copy, save, or translate my stories.

[bookwyrm-art-stuff]

My favorite thing about They Both Die at the End is that if you read it, you know the cover isn't lying. They do die, you can sense it, but not in a doomy, all-is-lost way; rather, the book seems to hold your hands and say "They will die. There is nothing you or I can do about it. You're not here to hope in vain; your only job is to love them. It won't change the outcome. Nothing can. But it makes the world better if there's more love in it, and it's up to you to know them and love them for as long as they're here. They will be gone, but your love will remain, and this book will be better for being loved."

[offthewall1979]

my review of Moonwalk: hot mess. ★★★.

[fazcinatingblog]

I introduced the new guy (who's been with us since August) to the fresh new guys and said "this is the bookkeeper" and later on, the new guy was like "I was hired as an accountant and you introduced me as a bookkeeper" like???? Is he annoyed???? Joking????? Toughen up, sweetheart (that's what Colleen would say)

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[thebibliosphere]

Hey, so it turns out we’ve been living with two gas leaks in our house for an unknown amount of time and we need to replace our entire furnace unit. There are people coming on Thursday to do it.

We are taking out a line of credit to get it done because for our safety we have to, but the interest is significant.

I feel like I’m asking for a miracle, but if I can sell 2000 ebooks or 500 audiobooks of Hunger Pangs through my Payhip, that would cover it. You can also gift people copies through Payhip gifting system or by donating to the donate pile so I can run giveaways.

The water heater still needs replaced but that leak has been addressed safely and is no longer slowly killing us.

If you like what I do and want to support me in other ways I have a Patreon and a Ko-fi. (You can ignore the 18+ warning that comes up on my Patreon, they’ve had me wrongly flagged as an adult content creator for years.)

Please, I cannot stress this enough do not give money you don’t have. Even sharing this and telling people about my books is a wonderful help. I’m just trying to alleviate some of the financial strain from Mothman.

I’m going to have a lie down now in a well-ventilated space. Maybe have a soothing scream first.

[ravencromwell]

I have to add Archivist Wasp and its sequel Latchkey by Nicole Kornher-Stace. (Both those links lead to Weightless Books, an arm of the incomparable Small Beer Press that sells drm-free versions of numerous small presses' books for ease of reading and to avoid the amazon monster; to tout the awesome of Small Beer and Mythic Delirium, both primarily responsbiel for publishing Kornher-Stace would be a post of its own, but look them up if you're unfamiliar because they've provided some of the most envelope-pushing, queer-heavy scifi of the last decade.) Archivist Wasp is in the "destroyed earth" rather than the space category of scifi and...well, Amal El Mohtar can sell it better than I ever could:

An Archivist has two jobs. The first is to hunt and catch ghosts in order to learn about the precataclysm past from them; the second is to defend her life and position against “upstarts” — the other girls marked by the goddess Catchkeep’s claw-shaped scars at birth — once a year. Wasp has been Archivist for three years, and wants nothing more than to escape a dismal life of killing her sisters and obeying the Catchkeep-priest — so when an unusually powerful ghost asks her to help find his former partner in the underworld, she agrees. But, as is so often the case with the underworld, she finds both more and less than she bargained for. More than anything else, this book is sharp. You could cut yourself on the prose — Wasp’s world is one of thorns, knives, edges of thick, broken glass, a constant background-hum of pain that sometimes swells into a shout. Wasp’s perspective absolutely thrums with tension and violence, but also aches with a fierce, hollow loneliness to break the heart. The longing and gratitude for the smallest beginnings of true friendship make the betrayals more vicious, and the stakes just keep rising. I burned through this book in about three hours, desperately rooting for her. It’s also a brilliantly constructed narrative and world. The gods are cruel and absent. The underworld is a maze in layers, a twisting, turning palimpsest, one that allows Wasp to descend almost archaeologically through time by literally experiencing her ghost-partner’s memories. The pre- and post-apocalyptic worlds reflect each other in shards and fragments, all the more powerful for being subtle, for their resistance to being spelled out. It was also keenly refreshing — especially in something that’s ostensibly YA, where the Love Triangle of Doom is so annoyingly pervasive — to find a book in which all of the strongest, primary relationships are friendships; where friendship has the narrative, motive force usually reserved for sexualized romance. I very much wanted to see the A in QUILTBAG represented in this column, and this is a fine example: while the connection between the ghost and his (female) partner is intense and loving, it is never represented as sexual, and sex is in fact completely irrelevant.

Sci-fi books where a queer woman has the ghost of an annoying dead guy in her head

*Misery is nonbinary (she/they) and who’s in her head is not dead or a guy but I’m counting it, okay

[earlgreytea68]

Let me tell you, I've taken lots of vacations by myself, and I've also taken lots of vacations with other people, and by far vacationing solo is the easiest, most stress-free vacation you can imagine. There's some kind of societal stigma against this. Ignore this. Vacationing by yourself is amazing. There is zero negotiation or compromise. You do exactly what you want to do when you want to do it. You eat whatever you want to eat, whenever you want to eat it. You pursue whatever tourist attraction you want, or none at all. It is the purest release from all obligations and responsibilities. You don't need to worry about whether anyone else is walking faster than you or slower than you and you've lost them in a crowd, did they want to do something different, have you railroaded them into doing what you want to do?

And it's easier to buy solo tickets to things. It's easier to squeeze into crowded bars. Everything about it is just so incredibly relaxing. Don't let society talk you out of it. It's obviously good to socialize and have friends and family who you want to hang out with and see, etc., etc., and it's okay if traveling solo just doesn't appeal to you at all. I'm just saying, I was just on vacation with people, and I had a great time, but we were out to dinner at the hotel restaurant and at the table next to us was a woman by herself having a glass of wine and eating spinach and artichoke dip for dinner while she read a novel and I was just like, honestly, I know that kind of dinner and it's so great lol. If you've ever wondered what it's like to travel solo, it's like that: dip for dinner and a glass of wine and a book lol

[falesten-iw]

Warning: Long Post No one reads long texts anymore, but despite everything I've been through with my country, my family, and recently my son, I need to get this off my chest. It's completely unbelievable to me that so many people still don't understand the background of the genocide in Palestine. What kind of journalists or influencers do we have today? Are they too afraid to report and remind their audiences about the real story behind what's happening now? No, it's not just one year of suffering! It's outrageous how the media consistently ignores what Palestinians have been enduring for decades. Have they, or you, even bothered to look at the statistics of how many Palestinians have been killed by Israel since 1948? How many children have been killed? Who holds the responsibility for what's happening now? I often wonder: what if the situation Palestinians face was applied somewhere else? For example, what if, after World War II, the West had decided that all Jews should have a state in the USA—let’s say Chicago—how would the people of Chicago have reacted? Imagine the people there being driven off the land their families had worked for generations, stripped of their rights, and harassed or persecuted if they resisted. Do international laws simply not apply when ### is involved? Do you know that people in Gaza are killed simply for fun? Yes, for fun! Israeli soldiers have been known to shoot women, children, and even animals on the spot, then walk away. Did you feel the wind when those shots were fired? Or was it too far away for you? Do you understand what death means? Good. Do you know why there are so many Palestinians living in different countries, or maybe even right next door to you, even though they smell like hummus, garlic, za'atar, and other traditional foods? Do you know why your neighbors are Palestinian and not Israeli? It's because we've been forced to flee since 1948. Our cities were erased then, and more are still being erased—through violence, through apartheid laws, through genocide, through different methods. Ilan Pappe, an Israeli historian, wrote a book about hundreds of Palestinian cities that were erased to create the Israel you know today. This isn't a war that started a few days ago or even a year ago—this has been going on since at least 1948. More than 45,000 have been killed in Gaza just in the past year alone. 17 000 of them are children, and 13 000 are women. Do you even know what that means? How it feels to lose your children or part of your family? Are you going to tell us how it feels? Do you have no empathy? Is your heart so closed that you can't see the pain around you? Are you really so blind to the suffering of others? How can you ignore these realities? Do you know that the Israeli military has cut off all electricity and completely halted the import of food, water, fuel, and other necessities? There are no hospitals and no medicines left, and 85% of people in Gaza are living in makeshift tents. Yes, tents—but not like the ones you see in movies. These are handmade from plastic scraps. Do you know that my family is suffering from all of this, and I will lose them in this cold weather if you don't act now? Please help us and donate now!

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

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[cheriecoke]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

What about the Doors/Pressure shopkeepers trying to pretend they aren't giving their crush special treatment when in groups. Like, special inventory, discreet discounts, all that jazz

Jeff (Doors)

"Oye, I see what you're doin', Jeff. Thought you weren't one for giving out freebies."

*shrug*

"Don't play dumb! I saw you sneak the skeleton key into their bag! Even Bob's a witness!"

No matter what El Goblino says, Jeff will just wave off any accusations of him giving you "special treatment" whenever you stopped by the shop with your group.

While none of them donated to the tip jar, you were the only one who ever did...and even when you came back again and again, it was always you who showed him charity.

The rest of your group would just argue over what to spend their money on, try to rush ahead, mess with his radio, etc. etc.

But you trust Jeff, and he trusts you <3

So you get small discounts on his wares, and despite him not being able to speak, you could tell he's only looking after you.

The goblin jokes about Jeff's little "crush" on you...then he sees the entity's eyes widen and realizes "wait amigo,,I wasn't being serious do you actually like them?????"

He just shoos him away and will deny it to kingdom come, but it is true.

The moment you realized his feelings for you was when Rush attacked the shop once, and you thought you were done for-

When Jeff instinctively pulled you behind the counter and slammed the shutter down, keeping you uncomfortably close (yet somehow you've never felt safer).

When it's all over, he blushes and lets you go free.

You thank him with a small kiss on the forehead(?) and promise to see him again soon.

The next time you get duped by Dupe, or attacked by Eyes, Timothy, Screech, or a snare and need to heal...you discover a few bandaids in your pocket that weren't there previously...

Huh.

Wonder who gave you those?

Sebastian (Pressure)

Normally, Sebastian doesn't care to make personal connections with any of the expendables.

He's just there as their supplier before seeing them off on their journey, hoping they're putting his resources to good use.

But recently he's been seeing you more often, coming by with a new group or by yourself, trying your best to survive long enough to reach him.

Ofc, you've died to stupid things before (or maybe you're just trying to get all the monster documents..in which he's convinced you're some masochist), but you did have the most common sense out of your group and didn't try to annoy him.

The others just waste flash beacon charges on trying to blind the poor guy and stick the keycard in a medkit they couldn't afford...and for what?

Why do your "friends" do that? Are they stupid or something?

You tell them to stop, and it's...actually kinda nice to hear somebody willing to defend him.

People usually don't give a shit about the giant scary fish's feelings, yet for some reason you do.

Of course, Sebastian was reasonably suspicious about it.

"Are you acting this way just to get a freebie?" He assumes. "Because if you are, then you're definitely as stupid as-"

"No, I'd never do that to you." You shake your head. "You're here, helping us survive out there, risking a lot to get us those supplies...is it wrong for me to appreciate that?"

"......"

He goes quiet for a minute, but after the rest of your group leaves, he asks you to stay for a moment.

"You were looking at this Necrobloxicon for a while...you must reeeeally want it, huh?" He grins, flicking his tail where the book was strapped. "It's a rarity."

"I...can't afford that. I'm fine with this dingy flashlight-"

"It's yours for 70% off. Take it or leave it."

You do a double take. "Wait, wha-"

"70% off. Take it. Or leave it." He says through gritted teeth, impatient, only to smile when you accept the deal without further question. "Good. Now don't go telling anyone I'm offering discounts. That's your only one unless I feel generous. Capiche?"

"Gotcha. Thank you, Seb. This means a lot. I hope to see you again soon." You smile back, holding the spooky book tightly, and leave him alone with his thoughts.

And a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest-

Wait.

"Oh no....what the fuck am I doing????? That's it! NO more discounts for anyone, Sebastian!" He scolds himself.

Little does he know, he's gonna keep giving them out, but only for you.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter

Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught

Part 2 // Part 3

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.

It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.

This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.

He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.

Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.

It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”

“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.

Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.

James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”

Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.

The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.

“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”

“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”

“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.

James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.

Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.

“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”

Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.

“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.

Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.

“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.

They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.

James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

“So what did you think-”

James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.

Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.

Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.

As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.

However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.

Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.

You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.

He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.

“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.

You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.

James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.

You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.

As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.

His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.

As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.

Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.

James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear. 

“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.

His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.

“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.

James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.

James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”