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wellgoslowly · 1 year ago

Note

fic idea: Lockwood comes back early from a job, George and Lucy are out doing whatever so the reader takes this as an opportunity to dance in their underwear (called pants in England) and an oversized button up (which looks shockingly similar to one that disappeared from lockwood’s laundry a while back) while blasting music and singing along. But when she finally notices Lockwood standing at the kitchen door, she goes over and grabs his hands and pulls him into the kitchen to dance with her.

NEARLY WITCHES (EVER SINCE WE MET)

a/n: I am so sorry this took so long to get out- it's been a hectic couple of weeks. however!! for some reason I listened to vices and virtues last night and decided to write and I've been in a frenzy ever since. I hope you enjoy!! also this is my first ×reader so if it's not great, that's why. however, I'm personally really proud of it :))

pairing: anthony lockwood × fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none :)

tags: @ettadear (ty for the request!!) @givemea-dam-break @slag-for-the-fetch @ikeasupremacy @oblivious-idiot (yall seemed interested hehe)

“here I am, composing a burlesque, out of where they rest their necks…”

It was a quiet day at 35 Portland Row. Lockwood, Lucy and George were all out on a case (you had gotten injured the week before so Lockwood was putting you on time out for the time being while you healed), so you took the opportunity to tidy up the kitchen, which was growing messier and increasingly in need of care as the days went on. it wasn't as if the four of you were unaware of how dirty the house had been getting- you simply just didn't have enough time to address it. You rather liked Lucy's idea if getting an assistant.

“sunken in their splintered cradles, and ramshackle heads, they asked for it…"

Surprisingly, you didn't hate being on the Lockwood equivalent for house arrest. Ok, yes, you itched to get your rapier back into your hand and go back out on cases, but it was also really nice to just have a break once in a while. At a small agency like Lockwood and Co, as much as you loved it, breaks didn't come very often.

Besides, you knew that the second that the trio came home and saw your work in the kitchen, they would be beyond grateful. You didn't do it for the praise, but you knew precisely the type of exhaustion they were feeling and wanted to do something to lessen their stress, even if it was something as simple as washing the dishes.

“You have set your heart on haunting me forever from the start, it's never silent…”

You found you did your best cleaning while you were listening to music, resulting in you singing along to the music blasting out of your speaker, deciding not to worry about any possible noise complaints.

“ever since we met, I only shoot up with your perfume… it's the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do…”

it was because of your loud music that you didn't realize that Anthony Lockwood, your employer and one of your best friends, had returned earlier than expected and was now standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at you with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.

You turned around as you danced to the music, songs from an album that you knew Lockwood loved filling the air. It was then that you noticed Lockwood standing behind you, the shock on his face mixing with another emotion you couldn't name.

You greet him with a smile and a soft “Hey, Lockwood”, but he doesn't respond- he just stares at you. It takes you a second to realize why- but when you finally understand, you feel your body warming in embarrassment.

You were wearing nothing but undergarments and a shirt- one of Lockwood's button-ups that you had stolen a while ago.

Thankfully, the shirt fell down to your mid- thigh, covering anything that might’ve made your situation worse had it been a little shorter. Still, you couldn't prevent the warmth that filled you as Lockwood took in your choice of outfit, eyes darker and more intense than usual.

“Hi.” He spoke in a whisper, as if he needed to save his energy to survey you. You suppressed a shiver at his tone, and his eyes flitted up to meet yours.

You were burning. You were on fire and Lockwood was the one who had lit the match. You had known your feelings for Lockwood for a while- you had been attracted to him ever since he had practically begged you to quit your business as a freelancer and join his scrappy little agency. You had convinced yourself that there was no way he could feel the same- that his lingering glances and flirting were just characteristics of his charming personality. But now, as he stared at you with something in his eyes that made your hands shake, you weren't so sure.

Either way, you needed to break this trance. It was dangerous, and you could feel yourself slipping away into the “what ifs” that always seemed to fill your mind whenever Lockwood was around.

“Dance with me?” You whispered, giving him your best “I Am Totally Not Attracted To You And I Am Totally Not Wearing Your Shirt” smile. You prayed that it worked.

“What?” Lockwood asked, breaking out of his trance. You held out your right hand as the song finished its second verse. “I know you love this album. Dance with me?” And then Lockwood was smiling and damn, if that didn't do something to your resolve. “If you insist.”

You don't know what you were expecting, but you certainly weren't expecting for Lockwood to grab your outstretched hand and pull you into his embrace.

You very obviously had never danced in this context before. Lockwood smiled, deciding to be the one to teach you. “Here. You put your hands,” He spoke, grabbing your wrists and gently guiding them to wrap around his neck. “… here.” Your breathing became more shallow as you felt the warm solidity of his body beneath your arms. “And I put my hands here.” He whispered. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands find their places holding your hips.

It was too much and not enough at the same time. You turn your head away from him, trying to allow yourself a moment to collect yourself and get your shit together. Lockwood didn't need to know that this was something you had imagined many times- getting to be this close to him, finding comfort on his arms after a long case or feeling his arms wrap around your waist from behind as you cooked breakfast.

“Is this ok?” Lockwood whispered, lessening his hold on your hips before taking his hands away entirely. Your head snapped back to look at him, willing him to please put his hands back. “Yeah, it's ok.” You whispered. You see the side of his mouth quirk up as he returns his hands back to where they were. And then the song was changing and he was pulling you in so your head rested on his chest and you were slow dancing.

“When the world gets too heavy, put it on my back, I'll be your levvy.”

You instantly recognized the song that began playing, and your face heated up even more, thinking about how many times you had thought about being this close to Lockwood while listening to this song.

“Where are Lucy and George?” You ask, trying to keep your voice calm despite the mass amounts of emotions that were plaguing your heart. “Took the source down to the furnaces and then to bring back food. They won't be back for a while.” Lockwood spoke softly, and you hummed in understanding.

“It was always you, falling for me. Now there's always time, calling for me.”

You stayed like this for a little while- his hands on your waist, your head against his chest, swaying softly to the song playing from your light green speaker. You found yourself wishing that you could stay like this forever, happily dancing with your best friend.

And then the song ended and Lockwood broke the spell. “Are you wearing my shirt?” Lockwood asked, his voice huskier than usual. You flushed bright red as you extracted your hands from around his neck, moving to back away but not being able to go far as Lockwood didn't realize your intentions and kept his hands on your hips.

“Uh, yeah.” You admitted, looking away from him out of embarrassment. “I forgot to do the wash and I realized this had gotten thrown into mine a while ago, so it was all I had to wear. I can return it as soon as I finish my laundry-” You were about to profusely apologize for taking his shirt, but within seconds you weren't able to say anything as Lockwood surged forward and pressed his lips to yours.

It was quick, chaste- fleeting and burning and gone far too soon for your liking. Lockwood was the one to end it, his eyes wide once more, but now filled with something like fear.

“I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me-” It was your turn to interrupt him, you decided, as you wrapped a hand around his tie and pulled him back down to kiss him again

His hands went back to your hips as you moved your right hand up to hold his jaw momentarily before slipping into his hair. He let out a low sound, something that sent your brain into a frenzy as he kissed you with increasing fervor, pressing you up against the kitchen counter.

You couldn't tell how long you stayed like that, limbs tangled together as you kissed like it was the last kiss you would ever have, but eventually you had to separate to breathe. You smiled as you took in the sight in front of you: Lockwood was standing there, staring at you, swollen lips and flushed cheeks and messed hair all indications of what you had just been doing. It was the most beautiful you had ever seen him look.

He smiled back at you. “You don't have to give me my shirt back.” was the first thing he said, his voice raspy and way too attractive for his own good. “Do you like me wearing your shirt?” You asked, smiling. “Way too much.” He admitted before kissing you once more.

You lost time again- you practically melted into his arms. You were too caught up in kissing Lockwood- finally- to realize that Lucy and George had returned home until they appeared in the kitchen.

“Finally!!” George yelled, startling you and Lockwood.

“Wait- why aren't you wearing trousers?? Please don't tell me you're having sex on the counter!” You laughed into Lockwood's chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Much later, after you all had said goodnight to one another, you found yourself creeping downstairs and into Lockwood's room and asking him if he wanted to dance some more, a smile lighting up your face as he said “yes, of course.”

ty for reading!!! I will be writing more requests now that I have time and motivation lol. also in case u were wondering, the two songs referenced in here are nearly witches (ever since we met) and always by panic! at the disco!!! I hate brendan urie but vices and virtues is such a good album.

anywho I hope yall enjoyed!!!

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moonchild-in-blue · 1 year ago

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The Mist (Sleep Token)

So this is the aftermath of this very cool post by @reveries-of-my-mind. I was supposed to get it done weeks ago, but alas. It is here now I suppose.

Basically is Vessel as a kid (he's adorable here 🥺), wandering around in the woods, and encountering a Magical Clearing with a Strange Mist. Slightly different from my original idea, but it's actually kinda cute?? This was supposed to be much shorter, but once I start writing, it's hard to stop lol. 2k is not too bad though, right?

Anyways, here it is. I hope you like it Kay 🍄 (Also I used your picture for the divider, hope you don't mind!) 🌿🌹

The Mist had been with him ever since he could remember. As Vessel looked over his window, morning coffee in hand, a thin layer of fog covered his garden, speckled with red flowers.

---

It was a Saturday morning like any other. The sun peeked shyly behind grey clouds, extending its warm fingers to the earth bellow, still wet from the earlier rain.

His grandparents’ garden overlooked the great forest behind, lush trees and a sparkling creek impassively waiting behind the white fence. For any eight-year-old boy in the midst of summer holidays, with no friends around and plenty of time to kill, the woods were the perfect playground.

Everyday he would venture into the forest. He knew each and every rock and bush that formed the path to the stream. He knew which berries were the sweetest; which tree provided better shade. His grandfather had taught him to recognize the different singing birds and where they nested – under his bed, a shoebox containing his growing collection of nature findings was filled with all types of feathers, carefully catalogued in a piece of crinkled paper.

Today, he had decided to be a little braver. He would go on an adventure. With a very nice stick in hand, and a backpack full of sandwiches, two tangerines, and a water bottle - lovingly provided by his grandmother - the blonde boy ventured further into the woods.

---

After a little while of walking, his first sandwich long gone, the boy reached a tunnel encrusted on the base of a ridge, no bigger than his little frame, completely dark aside from a very faint light coming from the opposite entrance. It seated inconspicuously behind a curtain of leaves and vines, barely visible to anyone not paying attention.

But to the adventurous boy, nothing escaped his sight. His little blue eyes twinkled with excitement. Finally, something new. He adjusted his backpack straps, took a deep breath, and crawled his way through the hole.

With scrapped knees and spider webs clinging to his hair and clothes, the boy stood in an unfamiliar clearing, tall and quite proud of himself for making it through the dark, scary tunnel.

The first thing he noticed was the silence. Usually the woods were brimming with life, the sounds of birds, shuffling creatures, and buzzing insects, serving as companions to his lone hummings. But here, on the other side of the mysterious passage, the sound seemed to deafen to a low whisper, almost as if the ground itself was vibrating. As if the trees were talking amongst themselves.

Then, there was the mist.

The clearing was a small, rounded meadow, carpeted with soft grass and a shallow brook, towering trees adorning the edges. A gentle shadow, cast by the leafy canopies, draped the enclosure in green light. And hovering over the grass, swirling in intricate, delicate patterns, was a fine layer of white mist.

Whenever a sun beam pierced the strange fog, the mist parted like tiny crystal prisms, painting the glade with translucent rainbows. The boy was elated – he had never seen or imagined something so extraordinary, not even in his wildest dreams. And this place, this enchanted forest, was all his!

The boy suddenly felt very important. He knew this place was special, and it had must be protected, like a closely guarded secret. His little heart thumped with excitement and wonder, sparkling blue eyes drinking in his surroundings. As he walked further inside the clearing, the boy noticed how the mist seemed to halt its movements, as if it could feel his presence.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’m an explorer! See?”

He brandished his stick in the air, proving his harmlessness to the Mist.

“Can I seat here?” he asked, pointing to the soft grass bellow. The Mist seemed to respond, swirling ever-so-slightly around his pale ankles.

Satisfied with this reply, the boy slumped down on the ground, glad to be able to rest after what if felt like hours walking. He took off his shoes and socks, and laid back on the grass, singing contently to himself. What an amazing discovery! I should keep this in my notebook.

From the dirty backpack, he produced a colourful sketchpad and a pencil case, along with his water-bottle and snacks. The pad was halfway filled with a myriad of drawings: several birds and leaves, his grandparent’s yard, countless types of mushrooms and insects, and even some strange-looking forest gnomes, no doubt inspired by the bedtime stories his grandfather would read him. Anything he would come across during his adventures was recorded in his notebook, and this mysterious place, this important secret of his, deserved several pages dedicated to it.

After a few hours of drawing the clearing and the swirling fog, and when the last of his food had been consumed, the boy knew it was time to go home. Before leaving, he chose some of the prettiest pebbles he gathered from the brook and made a neat little pile in the place he had been seated earlier, as a thank you to the mist for showing him such a wonderful place.

“Goodbye trees! Goodbye Mist! I’ll come back tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about this place – I’m very good at keeping secrets you know?” he waved his little arms farewell, hoping somehow the forest would hear him.

The Mist twirled over his little rock offering, and the boy left with a grin, very pleased with himself for being able to talk with the magic fog.

---

When he stood in front of the dark tunnel the next day, his stomach felt funny with dread. What if the misty clearing was no longer there? What if it was all his imagination? No, it was there! It’s all here on my notebook. Once again he took a deep breath, adjusted his backpack, and crossed the dark passage to the secluded meadow.

And there it was – the strange vapour, the leafy canopies, the soft grass. Just as he had left it. He could hardly contain his excitement, blonde hair bouncing up and down as he skipped over to his pile of rocks. Curiously enough, a single flower bloomed next to it, five deep-red petals sprouting beautifully, filling the air with an intoxicatingly sweet scent. It was the only form of vegetation in the whole clearing, aside from the giant trees and verdant grass.

(Later that night the boy would show his drawing of it to his grandfather, and be met with half disappointment, half curiosity, by learning that the flower had no name, nor had it been sighted anywhere else before.)

He spent the day much like before: drawing, playing in the brook, napping under the giant canopies and the feather-light touches of the dancing cloud. At last, the time to leave had come, and just like the previous day, he left a little offering with sticks for the Mist, this time near the entrance to the tunnel.

---

And so the boy spent his summer. Everyday he would come to the clearing, no longer afraid of the once scary tunnel, and find a new crimson bloom near his offerings. He had learned that the Mist was somewhat sentient – the low rumble he had once thought to be the trees talking seemed to come from the Mist itself. It was almost imperceptible at first, but his curious child ears had become attuned to the quiet murmur.

The boy also learned that the Mist liked to hear him sing. Whenever he started to hum to himself, the swirling intensified, as if dancing along to his music. He couldn’t quite make out what they all meant, but his twinkling blue eyes began to recognise some of the swirling patterns as a language of sorts.

The summer turned into months, into years. The once young child, with colourful sketchpads and scrapped knees, his little heart full of wonder and joy, became a teenager - lanky, brooding, and lonely. Instead of drawings and sticks, he now carried black notebooks, full of poetry, of musings, of songs. Every holiday, and whenever he had a long weekend, he would make the trip to his grandparents’ house and to his secret garden.

Throughout the years, the clearing had become his safe place, a haven from all the pain he had had to endure. He liked to lay back on the grass, as he had so many times before as a kid, and sing to his heart’s content, while the Mist happily twirled around him.

He was certain the Mist could talk, too. Whenever he closed his eyes, now dark blue with hurt, eager to sink into the warm ground beneath him, he could feel it whisper in his ear. Sometimes it was loud and clear as day, others it would be little more than a quiet purr. It wasn’t any language he could recognise, much like the queer symbols and patterns he had now memorized, nimbly scribbled on the margins of his notebooks.

But he heard it all the same.

The Mist knew him like anyone else. In the clearing, he had the freedom to be himself fully. The boy had shared every joy, every pain, every heartbreak with it. And in return, the Mist would grace him with feather-like touches, with new swirling patterns, with long naps and vivid dreams; with bouts of inspiration, whenever his music felt inadequate.

And with flowers. Always those strange flowers, red as blood, and oh so very fragrant.

---

Time passed, and the boy was now a man.

He wasn’t quite sure why he was there. It had been years since he had last been in this clearing, real life catching up on him. He wasn’t even sure he would still be able to find it. The forest had considerably changed since the last time he had been there. The house in which he had once spent long summers in no longer existed.

It was silly, really. To seek comfort in what if felt like an imaginary friend. To run back to childhood safety once things had gone wrong.

Oh, and how they have gone wrong.

He stood there, expecting to see the crimson flowers and sparkling brook. To feel the soft grass beneath his feet once more. But the flowers were gone. The once gloriously green canopies loomed dry and brittle over him. All that remained were the little piles of rocks and sticks he had so carefully arranged many lifetimes ago. Gone was the lush grass and soft ground.

And gone was the Mist.

The man fell to his knees and wept. How did things get this way? How was he supposed to carry on living without a heart? Without her?

He sobbed himself to exhaustion, unconcerned about the impending night time, about his fate. Maybe it was for the best.

Oh child, we know that is not true. Why are you so distressed, my little one?

For the first time in years, the sweet fragrance of the red flowers enveloped him completely. His exposed skin prickled with emotion and fear – he had never heard the Mist this clearly before. Suddenly he was his teenage self again, longing to be embraced and understood by the one who knew him best.

“I’m truly alone now. And I don’t want to be. I’m tired.”

Oh, child.

The Mist chuckled, a low purr vibrating in the man’s chest. Their voice was unlike any other. It was wind, and water, and music combined. Somehow he knew to keep his eyes shut.

I can sense your pain. You don’t have to be alone anymore. I am here, am I not?

“I don’t even know if you are real. Maybe I have gone truly crazy. Clouds don’t talk.”

Humm. Such disbelief. I liked you better when you were young.

“What do you want from me?”

A rush of cold wind swept his blonde hair back. Every cell in his body was screaming to get away, and yet he was unable to move.

I can take your pain away. I can stay with you, make everything better. Would you like that?

“I… Who are you?”

Humm. Another chuckle.

You can call me Sleep.

#oh look at her being whimsical again lol #little vessel is very cute to me okay?#can you tell i so very desperately wanted to expand that ending? had to censor myself - this was NOT supposed to be long #ignore the use of the word adventure like 3 times in a row. i cant be bothered to edit further #sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #darya is unhinged

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thesparklingwriter · 2 years ago

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𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆

~ "But maybe somewhere, nestled between the thick haze of hatred, a single light shines through—suggesting that maybe you don’t truly hate Kaeya."

tags: kaeya x reader, gn!reader, Kaeya is slacking off at work again, i made them kiss because why not, fluff

word count: 498

a/n: hi this is a mix of two requests cause i thought they actually fit nicely together also i'm very bad at writing anything toxic it all turns into fluff so i'm very sorry if you hate it <3 this is also quite short for me but i thought i might start doing shorter things with part twos to avoid burnout and keep my account active lol

i've tried to post this three times and i lost my proof edits every time so i will edit this properly tomorrow when i'm not on the verge of tears

masterlist | taglist

“Why are you so grumpy?”

You look at Kaeya, fixing him with a disapproving glare. He knows better than to fall for the malice in your eyes, the faint blush dusted upon your cheeks and ears evidence enough of the fact you might just be enjoying this.

“We’re supposed to be working.”

Getting assigned to work with the most disgustingly charming knight headquarters has was not your plan for this week, and no amount of convincing will change your mind. This is not fun. You hate the guy, the way he brazenly ignores protocol, the way he laughs at his superiors and gets away with it… more than anything, you hate the fact he does the things you wish you could.

“Technically I’m on a break right now.” Kaeya says, fixing you with his piercing gaze. That always intrigued you—his eye patch, that is. You seemed to be the only one fascinated by it, and as you stare back at him, the hatred mounts once more. It’s not fair—the freedom he has to just be.

“We have things to do, Kaeya.” You complain. “Seriously.”

“Would it kill you to relax, treasure?”

You feel your face and ears heat up, and press your hands to your cheeks. Kaeya watches you with an unabashed curiosity, surprised by your physical reaction, waiting to see what your next words will be.

“You can’t go around just calling people pet names, you know. It might make someone uncomfortable.” You swallow thickly, glaring at him. But even you know the glares are a means of hiding how much you liked him calling you that. When’s the last time someone ever took the time to call you anything but your given name?

Kaeya’s smile drops imperceptibly. “Are you that someone?”

“Uh, no.”

“I see.” He chuckles. “You’re looking out for other people. Very kind of you.”

He reaches out, as if he means to cup your cheek in his hand, but he seems to think better of it. “Would this make someone uncomfortable?” he asks, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“Maybe,” you grin, and Kaeya begins to retract his hand. “But I won’t know unless I get to try.”

You hate him, you remind yourself, as you press your lips against his, savouring the way he tastes on your tongue. You really, really hate him.

But maybe somewhere, nestled between the thick haze of hatred, a single light shines through—suggesting that maybe you don’t truly hate him. Perhaps it’s the opposite.

Kaeya pulls away from you, smiling softly. It’s unlike the usual smiles you see him give people—it’s gentle and shamelessly joy-filled.

“We’re going to have to work on the way you kiss.”

he whispers, and you gasp in shock, the faint heat from earlier returning to your face as you turn away from him. You hate him.

“Ah, come on, treasure.” he teases, turning your face back to his. “No one ever got better at anything without practice.”

#kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #genshin x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya fanfiction

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sunshineblondiewrites · 1 year ago

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The First of Us - Chapter 3

We Got Divorced *Not Clickbait*

Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Series summary: you and your father meet Joel and Tommy 6 years after outbreak day. You join their group trying to make it to the Boston QZ not realizing all that joining would entail. You eventually make it to the QZ but not without suffering many losses. Tommy decides to join the Fireflies and you and Joel are left with your smuggling partner, Tess, when years later you meet a teenage girl that will bring you and Joel across the country, and maybe together.

Chapter summary: You and the Miller brothers enter the QZ. Then after a few months of figuring everything out and meeting a woman named Tess, Tommy is itching for something new, and he wants you to come with him.

Warnings: death, outbreak day, friends to lovers, reader has a sister, minor physical descriptions of reader, grieving, FFM threeway (does not include reader, cannon typical violence(if I miss any please lmk)

a/n: CHAPTER THREE WHAT?! I'm so excited that people are reading and liking this little series of mine :) This is honestly one of my favorite chapters! I hope you all are liking the fun chapter titles too haha I wanted them to be fun and interesting despite whatever the actual chapter content was, anyway I will stop rambling, enjoy!!

Word count: 3.8k (a lil shorter haha)

masterlist Ch2

It had been about a week since you departed from the rest of the group and Tommy and Joel were on better terms than before. Tommy was still mad at Joel for reasons you couldn’t explain because what Tommy was mad at Joel for, Tommy had done… and so had you.

“Well, there it is,” Tommy said looking at a similar concrete wall to the Philadelphia QZ after you came out over a slight hill. There was a very obvious road into the QZ that ended at two large double doors.

“Are we seriously gonna knock on the fucking door?” Joel questioned. You turned your head to look at him.

“Yes we are,” you said confidently. “You’re welcome to stay here and see if I get shot but you have a better chance of getting in with me than by yourself.”

“Unless we die,” Tommy grumbles.

“I don’t hear a better idea,” you retort and continue over the hill. You were getting into this QZ. You heard their footsteps behind you as you all headed closer to the concrete walls that seemed to grow as you got closer. Just before you reached the door, two soldiers took notice of your trio.

“STOP! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND ANY WEAPONS YOU HAVE ON THE GROUND,” one of the soldiers shouted. Well, he didn’t shoot you so you’re starting off better than the others.

“Okay,” you said calmly, slowly lowering your gun to the ground with your hands in the air. “We’re not looking for any trouble.” You could tell this soldier was scared more than anything else. He was young, possibly younger than you so you decided to follow his orders quickly but stay calm. The less freaked out he was the more likely he was to listen to you. You nodded at Joel to set his gun down and Tommy as well. Joel hesitated and you shoved his shoulder a little. Raising your eyebrows as if to say come on man, I don’t wanna do it either but also want to get into this QZ. He glared at you and wordlessly set his gun down. The other soldier walked forward and confiscated your gun…s.

“You have any other weapons on you?” the second soldier asked.

“No, sir,” you said quickly.

“You the only one here who talks?” He said, slightly raising his gun at Joel, who only increased his usual resting grumpy face, which wasn’t helping.

“We talk,” Tommy said, “just sounds better coming out of her.” You’d discussed this earlier– you would do the talking because your voice combined with your looks was your guy’s best shot at getting into the QZ compared to the Miller brother bitchiness.

“We just wanna do whatever you need us to do to get us into the QZ and away from out here,” you said with a soft smile. This did something to the officer because from behind his helmet you watched his eyes drift downward slightly to where the tops of your breasts were exposed out of your black tank top and he backed up to whisper with his partner. After about two minutes of negotiating, one of the soldiers ordered you three forward over a wooden bridge of sorts where there were stop signs on either side while the other went over to a repurposed traffic light in the wall. When it turned green, the large doors opened slowly and you were pushed inside into what you assumed to be a quarantine zone inside the quarantine zone. The soldiers push you past some plastic tarps and through a makeshift plastic door and into a chair and tie you down. Your heart rate quickens and Joel and Tommy resist slightly before giving in. You were inside, you can’t fuck this up now. A new, third soldier enters the dim room you’re in with a large black box.

“This is gonna pinch,” she says coldly. She stabs a needle from the box into your neck and you hiss quietly from the pain. Yeah what a fucking pinch that was. Joel tensed in his chair slightly. The screen on the box lit up green and the soldier moved on to Tommy, who also grimaced when the needle stuck him. The screen lit up green again. Joel, being Joel, didn’t even flinch when getting tested, his face remaining as stoic as always.

“They’re all clean,” the soldier says.

“We removed anything possibly harmful from their bags, but we’ll still pat them down before we get their paperwork done and let them in,” responded another new soldier. A wave of relief washed over you.

It wouldn’t take a genius to put together that this had to be FEDRA. Two soldiers undid Tommy and Joel’s restraints and began patting them down. Another soldier took off your restraints and really took his sweet time feeling you up. This in no way shape or form could be considered patting you down. Joel scowled slightly, but it didn’t look all that different from his usual facial expressions. You just rolled your eyes, a creepy man feeling you up in exchange for being in a QZ was one of the better hands life had given you.

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” you muttered after a particularly lengthy pass over your ass.

“What did you say?” the soldier said, who you recognized as the second soldier from outside. The one who stared at your tits.

“Nothing,” you said quickly and before he could say anything else the soldiers were called away, leaving you and the Miller brothers to be ushered into the processing room. Inside was a table with a stack of papers and one singular woman. She was well into her 60s, but still looked like she’d kick your ass with her purse or some shit. Tommy went up first. She asked him some basic questions and some more particular ones. Every word she said was monotone–zero emotion whatsoever. Then she gave him a paper for the job he had to do tomorrow and a few ration cards to start. She explained his papers would be how he was identified.

“There is a mandatory curfew from 6pm to 6am. If you are caught out on the streets without a specific job or FEDRA approval you will be arrested and placed in lockup until your crime is deemed punishable by law or if you are simply let go. Remember to always report signs of cordyceps infection, coughing, slurred speech, muscle spasms, and mood changes. Safety begins with you… NEXT.” Joel walked forward and went through the same thing.

“Full name?”

“Joel Joseph Miller” he said gruffly.

“Location pre-outbreak?”

“Austin, Texas.”

“Birthday?”

“September 26th, 1967,” the woman hesitated and looked up at him. Her emotionless gaze on him cracked into one of pity.

“Outbreak day? Jesus.” Joel’s birthday is outbreak day? Jesus is right. She finished her questions, handed Joel his papers and repeated her speech from before.

You walked forward. She asked your name and where you were located pre-outbreak. You hesitated only slightly before you said Hazel, Kentucky. You and your father had an unspoken rule to never talk about them, which he broke before he died, but you hadn't said her name out loud in months, maybe over a year.

“Birthday?”

“May 19th, 1989,” you said and the woman looked up again.

“Happy birthday”

Jesus

—

Life in the QZ was not all Ryan and the posters made it out to be. Here in Boston you weren’t fighting for your life from infected, nature, raiders, and slavers–you were fighting FEDRA, the fireflies, and just some batshit crazy people. There were some good ones, and you’d made a few connections so far in the two months you’d been there, your favorite being a woman named Tess. She came here from Detroit and had staked her claim in smuggling operations in and out of the QZ and after your arrival she saw an opportunity to gain muscle in her operations. Mostly from Joel. You could tell she also thought he was hot. Joel was either oblivious or didn’t care, you couldn’t quite tell.

The apartment three of you were given already only had one bed propped up on cinder blocks that Tommy and Joel shared and you slept on the couch. Not the most comfortable, but better than the floor or sleeping with Joel or Tommy. Your smuggling with Tess took up most of your free time. You’re not sure how you all became a quartet of terror so fast, but Tess fit in nicely to your group. And smuggling got you more ration cards, which got you more supplies. Tess had gotten you all guns within the first 2 weeks you all agreed to work together. Tommy, however, despite how much better off you were than before was still restless. Smuggling and what you had done in the QZ definitely did not right your wrongs with God– there was a reason people were afraid of you. You could tell Tommy wanted out as soon as he got in, and when business had slowed down, he was nowhere to be fucking found.

You were out later than you should have been one night but Jake, the guy you’d starting fucking semi regularly, had dragged you away for what was supposed to be a quickie. Unsurprisingly, it went a little long. You knew he liked you, but you just saw him as a stress relief. That clearly wasn’t going to plan, though, as you had never finished with him.

As you were walking back to the apartment rushing to meet curfew, you were suddenly pulled out of the street into an alley. You started to fight back when a hand went over your mouth but then you heard a voice you recognized.

“Shh shh shh, it’s me, Tommy,” Tommy whispered. You wriggled out of his grasp and turned to look at him.

“Tommy?! What the fuck are you doing? Why aren’t you back at the apartment by now? It’s almost six? You’re late again and Joel will fucking kill you and then me because I was with you!” you whisper shouted at him. He and Joel got in a pretty heated argument the other night about Tommy not being back in the apartment by curfew. Something about how he always used to have to bail Tommy out of jail and blah blah blah brotherly quarrels. But you still didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Joel’s anger.

“Look I wanna take you to meet someone, just trust me,” Tommy said, you immediately started to turn back onto the street.

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?” He grabbed your arm. “Trust me.”

You cursed God for coming up with Miller brother puppy dog eyes and sighed. “Fine.”

After a bit of walking Tommy took you to an abandoned corner building in the QZ. Tommy went up to the door and gave the guards standing there a code.

“I swear if you took me to a fucking brothel,” you trailed off when you noticed a large, red symbol on the wall, a firefly. You took in a sharp breath, “Tommy” you said slowly, “what the hell is going on?”

“He didn’t tell you on the way here?” a woman said coming out of a room in the hallway. She had tanned skin and calculating brown eyes that matched her brown curly hair that was tied back in a low, loose ponytail. She was wearing a simple gray tank top and army green cargo pants with a gun holstered at the hip. You’d heard of her, but now that you were actually looking at her, it all made sense.

“Clearly not, but I’m guessing you’re Marlene?” you said coldly. You didn’t like being the only one out of the loop.

“That would be me,” she smiled, “and Tommy here is going to join us.”

“What?” you questioned angrily.

“Yeah and I was thinking you should come with us,” Tommy said.

“What?” you questioned again. You were so confused. Tommy? Joining the Fireflies? Where is he going with them?

“Look, you know the things we’ve done, the things we’re still doing. I can’t stand it anymore, Joel’s too far gone and he’s getting older and Tess would never, but you? Come on sugar, this is a chance at redemption, to help people instead of hurt them.”

You looked at him in bewilderment. What the hell was he talking about? Sure, you still had to do some not-great things while smuggling but it was nowhere near the level of dark with Ryan and the group. You only did what was necessary. It was different. Right?

“There’s a squadron of us going out west. Tommy has agreed to be one of them. We have a base out there that’s doing some real good work to benefit the world, not just in the QZs, and from what Tommy’s told me we could use a woman with your mind and skill set,” Marlene says.

“What, you mean like a cure?” she nods, and you laugh, “Tommy, you’re gonna leave us hell you’re gonna leave Joel for what? A chance? Some ‘good work?’ You know how long it took us to get here, and-” you sharply inhale, “fuck I know it isn’t the most glamorous thing but it’s still fucking better than having to live out there. Plus, you’d have to make it through the open city and then past that”

“Good thing I won’t be alone,” Tommy interrupts, frustrated, “and everytime we leave we’re at risk of hanging. Come on sugar, do you really want to stay here for the rest of your life shoveling shit, dumping bodies, and taking orders? And not just from FEDRA. Tess? Joel? They’re making you do what Ryan made us do just under a new name. It still makes us bad people, it still makes you a bad person. Do you really think your family would want that for you?”

That made you pause. Would they? Your dad’s fucking dying wish was that you find a better life and keep thinking of others, but you couldn’t help but feel you’d only half accomplished one of those. Were they looking down on you from heaven, or up from hell, with disappointment? Would it be better if you left with the Fireflies? With Tommy?

“You’re my closest friend, sugar. I just want what’s best for you. We can be heroes instead of villains.”

Villains? You weren’t fucking villains. And then it all made sense. After about a minute of organizing your thoughts you grinned at Tommy and you watched his eyes flash with a glimpse of hope before you said, “On today’s episode of Tommy Miller’s Hero Complex, he’s joining a new and cool rebel group to ease his conscience about the things we did to survive, not because we wanted to,” you watched his face fall at your biting remarks.

“There’s no moral code in this world anymore Tommy because if there was you’d see that Marlene over there is no less guilty than either of us” you spat.

“I beg to differ,” Marlene interjected.

“Well you’re gonna keep begging because I didn’t fucking ask you,” you snarled. “Tommy, listen, let’s just go back to the apartment and talk about this.”

He sighed, “I’ll go back to the apartment to say my goodbyes, we leave at dawn tomorrow,” he said, refusing to meet your eyes. You blinked back tears of betrayal, frustration, and sadness. But if this was the road he wanted to take, fine.

It was about a 20 minute walk back to the apartment, but it took even longer because you and Tommy had to silently dodge FEDRA soldiers every few minutes. Luckily Tommy had it down to science and you assumed all those nights he’d been late he had been doing this.

When you reached the apartment it was 7:15. You unlocked the door and walked in to find Tess sitting on the couch and Joel pacing the floor. As soon as he turned and made eye contact with you both the fight began.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU TWO BEEN?”

“Ask Tommy,” you said glumly as you walked over to the kitchen table and slung your bag onto it and flopped into a chair, putting your hands on your face. This was gonna be a long night.

The three of them argued all night, while you listened from the kitchen table, like you always did. They’d ask you for your two cents occasionally, but would start arguing again before you could answer until Tommy tried to pin some of the blame on you.

“Look, she almost decided to go with me! Why aren’t you mad at her?”

You stood from the table and walked towards him swinging your finger up in his face, “Yeah I thought about it for a split second until you called yourself a hero and us villains and then I realized you don’t actually think this will help, it’s just to ease that little hero complex you have. Sometimes heroes do bad things to save the people they care about, but clearly you don’t care about us enough to get over it.”

“I never said that I didn’t care about you guys,” Tommy shot back.

“No, but you’ve been complaining for weeks that what we’re doing is bad and that it makes us bad people, hell you tried to win me over by using my dead family as a bargaining chip. I killed my father and you don’t see me moping about how horrible of a person I am. No, I took it and use it as fuel for my fucking fire and to keep my promise to him. Your little Star Wars Rebels group isn’t going to change anything.”

“She’s right,” Tess said. “What? Do you really think joining them is going to change anything about you?”

“I’m gonna fucking help people instead of blackmailing them for information, supplies, or ration cards. I’m gonna stop FEDRA’s abuses instead of supplying their officer’s addictions. I’m gonna negotiate and listen instead of killing.” Tommy shouted and then looked at Joel. Something about Tommy’s last sentence softened both of them. Like it reminded the brothers of a memory they shared.

Joel fiddled with the broken watch on his wrist, “I can’t protect you out there,” he said softly.

“I know, but I won’t be alone,” Tommy put his hand on Joel’s shoulder, “I’ll be okay, I’m a man now, I’m not just your little brother anymore.”

“You know the radio communication codes here?” Joel asked.

“Yes,” Tommy said.

“You’ll check in?” Joel said firmly, it was more of a demand than a question.

“Promise.”

“Okay,” Joel breathed. “Dawn you said?”

“Dawn.” You all looked out the window, there was still a few hours before then.

“You need to get some rest, you have a long journey ahead of you,” Joel said walking over to the bed. “Just stay here Tess, it’s late,” he said without turning around. You could tell this hurt Tess, but she didn’t say anything. She never did. So you took your flat pillow and blanket to one end of the couch and curled up there, Tess headed to the other end and sat down, but to your surprise Tommy kneeled next to you.

“I’m sorry for trying to force you into that, I shouldn’t have used your family like that, it wasn’t fair. You’re like a little sister to me, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he confessed.

“It’s okay, I know why you did it,” you said softly and he hugged you from the side of the couch. “Just be safe out there, okay?” you said into his shoulder, to which he responded with a squeeze.

“I will.”

And at dawn, he was gone.

—

The second leg of your life in the QZ started after that. On a smuggling run not long after Tommy left, Tess, Joel, and you came across Bill and Frank on the radio, two men living in a gated, safe haven, private neighborhood resort of sorts. It took a little convincing but eventually Bill agreed with Frank that they should partner up with you guys. Trips there were rare, but cherished. You and Frank especially got along. You were young and he loved to doll you up just for a day and make you feel like a girl again instead of just a woman in a broken world. You protested at first, but when you saw how delighted it made Frank it reminded you of how much Hazel loved to get dolled up, so you always let him. You’d receive a compliment from Tess, showers of praise from Frank, a comment or two from Bill– less for you and mostly for Frank’s handiwork, and stares from Joel. It was easy to forget about the end of the world there.

Tess moved into the apartment about a year after Tommy left, but you hadn’t minded the brief time it was just you and Joel. You’d grown fond of your little conversations with him as he slowly would open up to you about his life as a contractor and as he learned bits about your short life in Hazel.

You two decided to just share the bed and it was way more comfortable than the couch so you were grateful the awkward tension there had broken, but when Tess moved in to make smuggling operations easier, you were moved back to the couch not so subtly by her.

The first night Joel came over to the couch, but before he could open his mouth you reassured him it was fine and that the elderly needed the bed more than you did.

It went on like this for years. You’d hear from Tommy here and there, go on a smuggling run, trade around the QZ, see a hanging, watch the fireflies fucking destroy everything, and work. It wasn’t great by any means, and it honestly really sucked most of the time, but you had food every night, protection, and a couch to sleep on, so if this was what the rest of your life was gonna be, you hoped your dad would take this as a better life.

You were gonna have to keep working on that thinking of others thing.

tags: @orcasoul @who-has-my-green-banana

thank you for reading and wanting to be tagged :) 🩷

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller reader insert #joel tlou #tommy miller #tess the last of us #pedro pascal characters

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nerdhappenings · 1 year ago

Note

youre a dsmp fan too! any dating headcanons? you can choose who you want. 🤭

I'd love to! I'll just do a few- I know there's so many. 😅 And I am doing this because it is so very very long.

Dream:

-Definitely prefers a casual date at home to going out -Gets the full snack spread -Lounging on the couch -Probably watching football, Youtube videos, streams or binging shows -Playing video games -He's way better at Minecraft than you -He teases you about it -"Did you just try to mine diamond with a stone pickaxe?" "I forGoT, okAY??" "*wheeze*" -He'll give you tips -Very patient -"That's okay, it took me a while to get the portal trick, too. Try again" -Don't even get me started on the manhunts -Will pick you up at any given moment -Bridal style, arms around your waist, whatever -He loves your size difference -Often gets you what you want when you're out shopping -He doesn't always, though -He has some self control and common sense -Will bring you back things that make him think of you while he's out by himself -It could be something he buys, or if he sees a rock or something he thinks you'd like -Very attentive -If you ask him to do something for you he usually will without question -"Sure; where is it?" "What do you need?" "You sure you only want one?" -He notices things, too -If you're having a bad day, he can tell -Takes you everywhere if he can -He feels more at home with you around -His love language is probably touch or quality time -Gives your head lots of kisses -Head kisses all day -I feel like he gives off a decent bit of body heat, too -Casual cuddler -He'll just have his arm on the back of the couch and you slide in -Bounces his music or video ideas off of you -He will sing a song he just wrote to you so you can give feedback -Private concerts -You stop and listen if you're walking by his room and happen to hear him singing quietly -He's written multiple songs about you -He's in the process of secretly writing a song that he wants you to duet with him -It's taking longer than normal because he wants it to be perfect -Definitely texts you "good morning" and "goodnight" every day -He doesn't really strike me as a pet name person -Maybe "baby" or "hun/hon" or something -He's fine with public displays of affection -Usually holding your hand or has his arm around you -You sometimes wear his clothes, but you're swimming in them -They're miles too long -Drista loves you -She shares very embarrassing stories about Dream -Dream is very happy the two of you get along -But he's slightly worried because you're partners in crime -I feel like he also has a good sense of work/life balance -He shares everything with you -You're either his best friend or right behind Sapnap

Sapnap:

-Speaking of the devil... -I feel like Sapnap also prefers "stay at home" dates -Watching basketball -You definitely argue about your favorite teams -"The Rockets are so bad this year, babe" "Oh yeah? The (favorite team) aren't doing so great, either" "Better than the Rockets" -Playing video games -Takeout -He'll sometimes cook for you, though -Sapnap takes you to shoot hoops -Gives you tips whether you need them or not -You play H.O.R.S.E. and he definitely gloats if he wins -If you win though, he always has some sort of excuse -"You were distracting me" "The sun was in my eyes" "You're lucky" -You know he's just teasing though -You tease each other a lot- that's just your dynamic -He also plays chess with you every Thursday night -He greatly looks forward to it -Sometimes you'll play earlier in the week too if Sapnap simply cannot wait -If you mention you like something while you're out shopping he'll make a mental note and get it for you for Christmas or your birthday or something -Very thoughtful, but also practical with his gifts -"You already have one of those" -Generally thinks you look good in everything but is always honest -"I think I liked the other color better" -He also likes flustering you -"I like the shorter one," he'd say with a wink and crooked grin -You'd turn a little red in the ears and smack him with whatever happened to be near you -This man is also always buying food -He'll take you for gym dates, too -He'll spot you if you need/want -Will give guys dirty looks if he thinks they're staring too long -He knows you can take care of yourself, but you know he enjoys his masculinity so you let him unless it's personal -He loves when you get along with his friends -He knows you're faithful, but the poor sweetheart has some insecurities -Will send you silly selfies of what he's doing throughout the day -"I died to a creeper in hardcore mode 😭😒" is the caption of a Minecraft death screen picture -Will also send you pictures of things that remind him of you, no matter how small or silly they are -Sometimes they're totally random -"This rug reminded me of you" (with picture attached) -Probably because he's always thinking of you -Like Dream, he's pretty attentive, but he's more likely to laugh a little, look back at his phone and ask "why can't you get it?" -He's not being mean though- he just can't see a reason you can't -"You have legs", he'd tell you -Love language is physical touch -Change my mind -Always has a hand on you -I feel like he also gives off a ton of body heat -Also is constantly draping himself on you or hugging you -Front or back- it doesn't matter -He will also nestle his face into your hair and/or neck at any given moment -Cuddles. Cuddles forever -Spooning -He just loves holding you -Not really one for public kisses, but he's also always holding your hand -If you're sitting next to each other at the house he'll have his hand on your thigh, holding your hand or his arm across your shoulders -Will sometimes put his legs/feet across/on your lap -If you have your feet or legs on his lap, you better believe he's just resting his hand on them -You also love to stroke his hair -You definitely wear his clothes, too -They are also miles too big, but more in width than length -(We stan short kings) -He knows you love his beard -He makes sure to stroke it a lot in front of you -He will rub his beard against your face a little during hugs or something -Even randomly just for fun and to tease you -Will also speak to you in Greek sometimes cause he knows you love that, too -If he gets riled up his Texan accent will come out -Sometimes you secretly rile him up on purpose just to hear it -I feel like he's one for pet names -Babe, baby, doll, darl', etc. -I gotta stop here before I talk about Sapnap forever

George:

-George is the most likely of the Dream Team to prefer dining out -Your taste in food is so different than his, (he's British), so you guys avoid specialty places -You go on walks after dinner -"Gotta burn all the calories we just ate" -Really it's just to spend more time together -You also get to show George around so he can try to get more familiar with the town -You excitedly point out your favorite places -George only glances at it briefly before looking back at you -He loves when your eyes light up as you talk about something you care about -Doesn't stop him from teasing you about it, though -George will often point at things going "what on earth is thAt?" -You have to explain the American (or your preference) culture -Loves shopping for knick knacks but hates shopping for clothes -"EUuugh. How long are we going to be here?" -Will sometimes get you things when you comment on them -Will also sometimes remark "why would you want that?" -Dude simply doesn't understand -He's also sometimes teasing, though -Will buy you lots of random stuff, even if you only mentioned liking something once -You mentioned one time that elephants are cute? Well good, cause George is buying you every single thing he sees with elephants on them, now -If George knows gossip, you'd better believe he's going to you first -Most likely to tell you "go get it yourself" if you want something -I'm honestly not sure what his love language would be -Maybe receiving gifts or words of affirmation -You get him something once a week because of this -Also because he's always giving you things and you feel bad -George's clothes are also a little big on you, but it's not too bad -He probably only has a couple pet names for you -Darling, love, babe, baby...classic British stuff, ya know-

Karl:

-Karl will flip flop between going out or eating at home -He always wants it to be a surprise what's for dinner -Probably buys you candy or flowers or something -It's cheesy and he knows it -He plays video games with you -He loves trolling you both in the games, making your task harder, and in real life -Definitely pulls a prank on you at least once every few months -He'd do that giggle of his and go "you still love me, right?" with a smile on his face -He knows you do, though -Karl points at random stuff in the store more than you do -He'll pick stuff up and play with it, doing silly voices for whatever it is -If you ask him to do something he'll do it -Will also use it against you in the future -"I got your phone from off the counter for you, you can bring me my shoes" -I'm not sure about love language for him, either -Whatever it is, you make sure to give it to him -You listen to him as he rambles about whatever he's excited about -He tells you things about Banter before he tells Sapnap and George -"We just hit ___ million subscribers on Banter" "We're getting ____ as the guest for Banter next week" -Karl will also hold your hand in public -He'll swing your arms wildly when you walk from place to place -I feel like Karl doesn't use many pet names, either -Maybe stuff like "honey", "love" or "babe" -Karl's clothes are also too long for you

Foolish:

-Will also dine in or do takeout -Loves movie nights -Curling up together with a blanket on the couch -Matching pajamas -Dancing in the living room -Both sweet/slow and silly -Loudly singing off key as the radio plays -He will sometimes quietly sing to you, though -It's very sweet -Loves board/card games -You're way better at them than him, though -You sometimes let him win -Will also take you on gym dates -Has full confidence in your abilities and will sometimes give you more than you can manage -Nobody bothers you because Foolish is kinda tall and a large lad and while he's the sweetest guy ever, people don't know that -Also buys you candy and flowers -He doesn't think it's cheesy, he's just very genuine -He's genuine about everything, let's be honest -You have to rein in Foolish when you go shopping -He wants everything -"Foolish, that's not at all practical." "But it's so cute!" -Also very attentive -He doesn't notice much though, so you have to ask/tell him -Usually will comply without complaint -His love language I would guess is quality time -He always wants to spend time with you -It doesn't even have to be dates -Dude will take you with him to do banking -He uses all the pet names -Babe, baby, angel, love, sweetheart, honey, darling, dear.... -I can hear all of those coming out of his mouth -You love wearing his clothes -They are also large on you but you love it -I feel like if something's bothering him you have to drag it out of him -He doesn't want to ruin your mood just because he's having a bad day -Cuddles -He doesn't mind PDA -He'll hold your hand while you're out -Forehead kisses -He'll kiss you on the mouth if you're out sometimes, too -Very considerate and sweet man

Wilbur:

-Wilbur also will do dine in or takeout, but I feel like he prefers dine in -Loves taking you places -Parks, theaters, some pretty lake that he saw, anything -He probably writes songs about you -"You're my muse, darling" -If you can play an instrument, he'll play with you all the time -If you can't play, he'll perform for you -He definitely takes you on tour with him -"You're my good luck charm" -You wear his glasses sometimes -He talks about you all the time -"She's just amazing, chat" -He sometimes will just randomly quiz you on some fancy words that he knows -Or speak to you in a different language and ask you what you think he said -Sometimes what he said was really sweet -Sometimes it was the most asinine thing you'd ever heard -I can see him just lounging on the couch with you in silence -In one hand he has a book -The other is stroking your hand or something -You're either reading, too, or just enjoying his company -You probably fall asleep cause you're laying on him -He's always wearing sweaters and it's very cozy -You wear his sweaters and the sleeves always go passed your hands -Wilbur makes fun of you for it -"Love, if it's impeding your tasks, why are you wearing it?" -He secretly thinks it's adorable, though -You point out things you like in a store -Wilbur points out things that amuse him (or that he thinks will amuse you) -He'll buy you something you like 80% of the time -He's fairly attentive, too -It depends on his mood, though -And if he's busy -He'll usually get you what you want, asking why you need it as he's already on his way -Love language is probably either words of affirmation or quality time -He lives for you telling him how much you love him -He also loves hearing what you love about him -His public affection is pretty minor, probably -He might hold your hand, depending -Or walk with an arm around your shoulders -But I think he's the most likely to not be huge on it -I feel like he uses a handful of pet names -Darling, (my) love, sweetheart.....probably a few more -I feel like "love" or "my love" and "darling" are his favorites, though -He loves taking you places with his friends

TommyInIt:

-Also probably prefers comfy home-dates -Often orders takeout -You'll sometimes make something, though -Definitely jokes about you doing "your assigned work as a woman" for several minutes before helping you -He's not very good at it -Plays video games with you all the time -Shopping is a chore if Tommy's with you -He is constantly running off to look at things -Will bring you stuff he found to make jokes with -"Put it back, Tommy" -Shopping takes twice as long as it used to -Or needs to -"I'm going to get you a child-leash if you keep this up" -It started out as a joke, but now you're seriously considering it -He's pretty attentive -He'll get you what you want -Will definitely complain about it the whole time, though -He's just messing with you and you know it -He usually notices something is bothering you, even if he doesn't know what -He'll come up to you and yell "self care day!" before dragging you out of your chair to do all of your favorite things -He's really very sweet -Will randomly yell "this is my girlfriend!!" -Love language is probably quality time -He wants to do everything with you -Has made multiple jokes that he's going to handcuff you to him so you can't leave him -I feel like he uses a few pet names -Baby, love, stuff like that -He also tries to come up with his own -"My sweet pickle" "Absolutely not" "My lovely linguine?" "No" "Beautiful bonzai?" "Um...no" -They aren't great -"My precious peach?" ".....That one's not bad" -Some work, though -His clothes fit you pretty well -So you often steal them -He has no idea where they go -Even if he sees you in them, he doesn't put two and two together -"You have a shirt like that, too!?? I can't find mine"

Sorry this took so long! I definitely got carried away....😅😅

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marauderswolf22 · 2 years ago

Text

wolfstar headcanons, but when they ill

im ill and wanted to comfort myself with this

-Sirius was ashamed of being sick. In his childhood, he always had to deal with it on his own, so he didn't see anything unusual about it. Sometimes he even thought he didn't deserve care or help when he wasn't the best version of himself. Covered with blankets with a runny nose, he did not feel like the pride of the Blacks. Whenever any of his friends at Hogwarts saw him coughing, with a red nose or a sore, they said it was nothing. He didn't even know what it was like to get custody. When they started dating Remus, the werewolf hit him even more carefully. His every smile and unusual movement was recorded in his head archive to be recognized again. Thus, in a short time, Remus realized when his boyfriend was weaker. His eyelids drooped slightly, and the blush covered his whole face and then disappeared. "Sirius love, are you okay?" you look a little weak. he asked once a few weeks after their first date. Sirius was afraid, the word "weak" made him shiver. Even more so when Remus, as usual, was in the right. However, this time Padfoot's disease was really wearing him down as a result of poor treatment earlier in the day. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore. -I think I'm sick Rem, I just want you to know. "But don't think Remus didn't do anything about it. He immediately took care of the warmth and comfort of his boyfriend. He loaded it with thermometers and tissues like an overprotective mother with too much free time. And when Remus had left for the hospital wing, Sirius was left alone with his gifts. Merlin, he loved it.

-Rarely, but still, there was a coincidence of their health problems. Most often it took place after parties, when in unexplained mysterious circumstances, they both got drunk into three merlins. They returned to the room, and both, differently, felt their intoxication. Sirius had a habit of throwing up, because while his head was unusually strong, unfortunately his stomach was not. Remus was the opposite. He could drink a whole barrel and pass out, but his stomach wouldn't budge. So Sirius, bent over the toilet seat, could only feel the whiskey, and Remus's hands entwining his hair. Once he had thrown away everything he had to, their roles switched. He gave Remus potions so that the next day he wouldn't be tortured with a hangover. Then, they just rolled over uncontrollably and landed on one of the beds. They did it out of habit, knowing each other even when their minds couldn't comprehend what was going on. The next day, they usually didn't remember anything, so they never noticed what they had in common, not remembering anything from what you just read.

-Whenever he was sick, Remus had more trouble sleeping than usual. His head ached as if he had fallen from an astronomy tower, and his hell felt like a blazing fireplace. He also hated that for these reasons he was unable to read. But Sirius wanted to make it up to him. He took Moony's pick book, and read it to the chapter where he left off. Usually Remus would fall asleep and they had to read everything from the middle, but it made them feel better.

ps: it was supposed to be shorter I swear

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grazi-your-rockette-queen · 7 months ago

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There needs to be more Sami Yaffa fics in the world. Anyways- Can I get a fic where reader (preferably fem but it's fine if you can't) is nearly the same height as Sami (he's 6 feet tall btw) and they go to a formal event (you can pick what the event is idrc) and she wears heels. And shes insecure because she feels like she shouldn't be taller than him because people keep making backhanded comments towards her for being taller than Sami.

a/n: AAAA THIS IS PERFECT and also slightly self indulgent cuz i’m 5’7 which isn’t that tall but i still don’t like wearing tall shoes bc ugh but i loveeee sami he’s a sweetheart tysm nonnie ur so right we need more sami stuff

this was a priority even tho i have twenty other drafts from weeks ago i could be finishing rn 💃

cuz like!!! look!!!

anyways!

you were sitting at the mirror finishing your makeup for the event that your boyfriend sami was brining you to tonight. you usually were pretty happy to go to whatever formal events regarding his band that sami brought you along to, and you were usually excited to go. sami helped you pick out your outfits, which today included a long v neck slip dress and a pair of black suede pumps. they added three inches to your height, and they’d stayed in the closet for a while for that reason. but sami must’ve found them and been drawn to them for whatever reason, and it probably didn’t cross his mind that wearing the heels would make you much taller.

“y/n? are you in there?” he knocked on the bathroom door. you set your makeup brush on the counter and opened the door, looking up at sami, who had a soft smile on his face.

“hi, sam.” you half smiled at the sight of him alone.

“did you like the outfit i picked? he noticed you were already wearing the dress he’d found in the closet earlier. you hesitantly nodded, attempting to hide your anxiety about the shoes.

“we’ve got to be there in about an hour, are you almost ready?” he asked sweetly.

“yeah… just a second.” you answered quietly, turning back to the mirror to clean up the counter quickly, then walking out of the bathroom. you grabbed the pair of shoes and walked towards sami, who was now standing in front of the mirror. you put on the shoes and stood next to him.

“we look fabulous, don’t we?” he asked confidently, smiling wide and putting his arm around you while your eyes were completely fixated on the mirror. you nodded, smiling after shutting your eyes.

“alright, we better get going.” he stated after turning around to check the time on the bedside alarm clock. he squeezed your shoulder lovingly and grabbed your hand, walking out the door of your apartment.

as soon as you arrived at the venue, it felt like everyone was watching you. you felt uncomfortably out of place and as thought you stood out a little more than you wanted to. you stood extra close to sami, not letting go of his arm. you were constantly trying to see if you were taller than sami with the heels on, or if you were still slightly shorter. eventually, he noticed you were acting strange.

“are you okay, love?” he asked, making sure he had your attention.

“yeah, i’m alright. can we sit down somewhere?” you asked, hoping your height wouldn’t be as noticeable when you were sitting down. sami nodded and took your hand again to find somewhere to sit. it was a fairly busy event, and you weren’t paying attention when you accidentally bumped into another girl, who was much shorter than you. but you noticed she too was wearing heels. the girl looked up at you after apologizing, and noticed you and sami standing together.

“wow, i could never wear heels if i was that tall…” you were sure you overheard her say to someone else close by. sami must’ve heard it too, because he looked at you with a sudden expression of understanding. you found a small table and sat down, and thank god, because you were just about holding back tears. sami quickly grabbed your hands tightly.

“is that what’s bothering you?” he tried to get you to look at him, but you couldn’t. you just nodded.

“oh love, don’t worry about that. it doesn’t matter if you’re taller than me, or the same height as me, or shorter. i love you so much, and i think you’re absolutely gorgeous. i always will.” he let go of your hand so he could move your head to face him. you quickly caught a tear from your eye. you sniffled, holding sami’s hand tighter and seeking comfort from it. you finally looked into his eyes and saw his genuine smile, causing you to relax a little more.

“thank you sami. i love you so much.” you kissed his hand that he was using to hold your face, and then he kissed you, still holding your hand from across the table. you stood up and held your hand out for him, he took it and did the same, standing proudly and kissing your face once more.

“let’s go get some drinks, alright?”

#fluffy samiiii #writers! write more sami stuff 🙏#i’m begging u #i hope u like it nonnie i loved this req <3 #grazilla’s thoughts #ask #sami yaffa #hanoi rocks #sami yaffa x reader

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natrome · 1 year ago

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ok now that i for real know what my writing commitments are going to be for the next, like, year, at least the majority of them, here is the actual for real i s2g hold me to this writing schedule

Fic in a Box - due 10/15

1 assignment of 2k words remains, write it this saturday

Five Figure Fanworks Exchange - check in 11/11, due 1/20

i expect this will take about a week to finish, and ideally i'll have it done prior to check-in.

Yuletide - works due 12/18

UNLESS i get an assignment that i want to go hogwild on, which i should be prevented from doing, i should be able to finish this the week of 11/26 and not work on it outside of that.

galactic santas - est. due 12/25

my fave event of the year lol, the logh secret santa exchange. uh anyway this one is usually due around christmas and also is the easiest thing on this list by a mile and a half. i'm 0% worried about this one.

tomorrow ye will get your pay - aka the whale novel. - first draft due 3/1, physical product due for display 4/1

this is an extremely short timeline, and while it's not "drop everything else" level short, it is going to have to be my #1 writing priority for a long time.

my plan is as follows

spend the remainder of october getting situated w/ the research i'm going to have to do, figuring out who i need to talk to, etc. as well as put together a detailed chapter-by-chapter outline

nov/dec i'm assuming will be eaten by SMST and other commitments, but get research done and essentially braindump into document

jan/feb, just write as much as possible, take time off of work/quit job if i need to

if possible confine edits to the first 2 weeks of march, get books printed; deliver final product by last week of march.

god this schedule is miserable. well i signed up for it! i did this entirely to myself! lmfao.

anyway i'm going to bracket in that it's a 20 chapter novel, which seems like a reasonable number of chapters. i essentially have ~10 weeks to write this book. this is totally normal and fine, i have written longer books with less of a solid outline in shorter amounts of time. if i can just sit my ass in a chair and hammer out 2.5k words/day i will EASILY make this deadline and have time for editing. the issue will be making myself do that. but having a deadline and like professional accountability should majorly help. esp if i quit my stupid fucking job lol

serpent's mouth, serpent's teeth - due 12/31

i have four chapters left on SMST. i do not think they will be EASY to write but I do think that I'm CAPABLE of getting them done before the end of the year. at the very least i've sworn until i was blue in the face that i would finish this book by the end of the year. i need this book to stop haunting my waking nightmares lmfao. i estimate ~50-60k words remain, but we'll see what it actually ends up shaking out as. hopefully it's not more than that.

anyway this is another just "ass in chair" moment. though if i could have made myself do that months ago, this book would have been finished sometime this summer lol

every link was freedom's name - aka the fucking. arle heinessen play. no due date.

this is my yay you finished all the obligations you had now you get to do something deeply deeply stupid and entertaining only to a tiny number of people project. lyric play about arle heinessen. book of exodus pastiche. probably not that long. estimate it'll take me as long as POD did, so a month and a half? but i won't stress it. aim to finish it mid may?

new constellations - aka the logh rarepairs exchange i run

I'm planning to run signups in late march, with works due mid may. this is slightly earlier than last year but due to my own personal schedule i don't want it to overlap with...

heart attack exchange - works due 6/2

yeah you literally only get 2 weeks to work on this one so it kinda is what it is lol.

life out of balance rewrite. no particular due date.

i expect this will take me 3-4 months to complete. finish by september?

lighting out for the territories augmentation. no particular due date.

i'd like to think that i can get this done in 2 months but i don't actually have a plan for what i need to do to it. so who tf knows lol. assume it'll take me the rest of the year.

every hateful instrument - no firm date

this will likely take between 6-8 months to finish, but it's another thing that i really want to stop having hanging over me. i'll either work on it before the LOFTT stuff or after

WIAW phezzan novella - ultimate TBD

to be completed immediately before starting LL/SS, probably

other misc nonsense

there are other small exchanges that i like to do (space swap, unsent letters, we die like fen) so as those pop up i probably will sign up for them. i'm not going to look up/prognosticate when they will happen at this moment in time

god i owe so many people gifts for birthdays and holidays and stuff >.> you may or may not get them. lean towards may not b/c what the fuck is this writing schedule. i'm so sorry lmao

i've now gotten back around to "oh this goes up to the end of the year again, so the end of the year exchanges (yuletide, fffx, fiab, galactic santas) should be on this schedule" but down that road lies only pain and horror lol

this list has gotten incredibly vague as things have gone on. the last part of this year and the first part of next year are pretty set in stone though, and i just need to like, get myself to the starting block and then start running

literally so funny that i was like "i should relax and take a break from writing before starting LL/SS" lmfao. lmfao.

obviously some of these things could be deleted from the schedule. i don't have to do a bunch of exchanges (but i liiiiiike them) and i don't have to write a stupid play (but i wannnnnnt to), and i don't have to do any rewrites to the early parts of WIAW (but they're a mess). so it's like. idk. maybe none of this is real and i'm just making lists b/c i like making lists lol

#writing #a wheel inside a wheel #in the shadow of heaven #tomorrow ye will get your pay #weh probably there's other things i should tag this with but it's late i need to go to bed

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hslcat · 6 months ago

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The knocking on their door hadn't let up for the last hour. They hadn't gotten up from the couch since yesterday and when the knocking had started they decided that they weren't going to get up to some stupid door to door salesman.

They were getting to the third hour of knocking when they were starting to reconsider that decision.

Laying on the couch was comfortable and they didn't want to get up for at least a year. but the knocking that had persisted for three hours, soon four, was annoying enough to at least consider going to the door to stop the infernal knocking.

By hour five they rolled of the couch. Whoever had the persistence to knock on a door for five fucking hours deserved a fuck you straight in the face at least.

They didn't know what they were expecting when opening the door, but it was not for someone to push past them straight into the apartment. They also didn't expect the second person, who at least had the decency to wait outside for an invitation.

She was slightly taller than them, with silver hair in an intricate looking up do and dark blue, almost black, eyes with small white specs in them. She was wearing a silvery hunters jacket with cargo pants and hiking boots.

"May I come in?" her words flowed like a stream through the forest.

"I suppose?" was their reply, they didn't really know what else to say.

"Fantastic, apologies for my brother, he is a bit much." she said as she stepped inside. Once inside she made her way towards the kitchen and they followed not knowing what else to do.

In the kitchen was her, apperent, brother. He had golden har falling in short locks around his head. He was wearing a band shirt and yellow jeans and sneakers. As he turned to them entering the kitchen they could se his clear blue eyes and standing at his full height that could see that he was slightly shorter than them.

At first glance you could not guess that they were siblings, but a closer look showed their similar features. Their thin but long nose, the crows feet in the corner of their eyes, visible when they smiled, and the slightest traces of freckles on their cheeks.

"How much have you eaten lately? Have you been sleeping? Do you have a fever?" he said walking towards them forgetting to close the fridge behind him. Standing in their kitchen in PJ's being bombarded with questions was not what they had expected either when opening their door today, but here they were.

With two strangers, in their apartment.

And it's there, standing in the kitchen with this strangers hand on their forehead, clearly checking their temperature, they finally find their words. "Who are you?" and after a slight pause, "And what are you doing here?"

There is a noticeable pause in the air as all three properly take in the situation at hand before the woman responds.

"Artemis, pleasure meeting you. This is my brother Apollo."

The man, now having removed his hand from their forehead, nods. "Yes, were came here to check up on you." he waits a few seconds, clearly expecting you to get, something. "Because" there's a pause before he continues, "your offerings stopped coming."

The offerings, the ones they'd done since their childhood. You know, just for fun, and had persisted throughout their life. Until a week ago, until the breakup.

The woman, Artemis, speaks up "We were worried, you usually don't miss so many in a row."

This was definitely not what they expecting when there was a knock at their door earlier that day.

You have thrown food into fires as a “sacrifice to the gods” since you were little. You’ve been going through a bad breakup, and a stranger appears to check if you’re alive since you haven’t payed tribute recently.

#writing

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never-not-ever · 2 months ago

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Where I live we don’t have PHP, what are they like? Are they only a couple weeks long or did you leave early? I don’t know why I thought they were 6 months or something super long like that. What’s their actual purpose? Is it a 9-5 type of deal or shorter days than that? Sorry for the questions I’m just very confused and curious!

Do not apologize for the questions! I'm happy to answer! I apologize for my long reply lol. Just in case anyone reads this and is confused I'll give slightly more info than what you're asking for.

So levels of care goes inpatient -> residential -> php -> iop -> typical outpatient appointments with a therapist or psychiatrist or even a weekly group.

Honestly phps and iops can differ program to program but typically php is mon-friday 9-3. Some places might start earlier and end later but 9-3 is pretty typical. I have heard of phps that are 7 days a week as well. The purpose of php is to offer the same sort of support you'd get inpatient except you'd go home at the end of the day. Also I think a lot of ed phps are longer hours to cover all the meal times.

When you do a php program you get a program therapist, psychiatrist and social worker/case manager and a dietician if it's ed related. You attend groups during the day and meet with different members of your team usually 1-2 times a week.

Now iop is just like php except it's less days and less groups. Typically php is 2 weeks but it can be longer and iops can be 1-2 weeks. But like I've said it varies, I've heard of 4-6 week php programs. There's a 6 month iop program that I'm supposed to be doing down the road.

You also don't have to go to php first before going to iop. My php program didn't have the option of iop, otherwise I would have definitely done that.

I was going to do an iop program at a different hospital that was virtual from 5:30pm-8:30pm but I decided not to. As you can see times can vary greatly and I'm pretty sure I've even heard of evening phps for people that can't afford to take time off work.

Some residentials off php and iop as you step down in their program. I did that once a while ago. It was nice cause it was in the same house and you attend groups with the residents, only difference is you go home at night.

Sorry it was so long but if you have any more questions please ask away!

#personal #php #iop #levels of care #partial programs #therapy

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ladyazulina · 4 months ago

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Azu is Talking — A Little Too Personal at the End

This week, the dental pain I have been updating you about has been decreasing. Slowly but surely. I was able to stop numbing my mouth to fall asleep earlier in the week, so that’s… good? I guess? It’s still hurting, but I see even the smaller of steps as progress, so.

This Creative Monday was… intense, to say the least. Fortunately, the mechanic of this game seems to be coming pretty nicely. Wordy-wise, at least. I easily spent the whole afternoon working on it, seven hours. From late morning to right into the evening, with a long break to prepare and eat lunch (watching a series episode~) and a shorter one to have a coffee.

My eyes were tired of seeing words and I still wanted to try to add something to the [REDACTED] adventure, ‘cause that goes whenever I can, remember? And I did, though very little, and my eyes ended up also hurting after that. I still have just a bit more than two weeks left to work on it. Not sure how many words missing just yet. But with just an hour or so to end my working hours, I wasn't really sure about my odds (I did the add-up with five minutes to spare). Don't have to rush and worry about it just yet, but the sooner I can end it, the better I will feel. And I always want to feel the better.

That’s not what usually happens on Tuesdays… Particularly this one. When reading a book in which you have 50+ favorite highlighted quotes, Review Tuesday becomes a nightmare.

Read this week’s review:

Posting each and every one of those quotes individually (because I want to 😭) is a heavy job. I can try to quell it a bit by listening to music and reading those quotes during the arduous posting to remind myself how much I loved that book, but it still leaves a toll. Especially if after the first massive posting on Tumblr, I'm doing the same on Patreon, repeating it on Ko-fi, and doing it once more on Co-host! Doesn't surprise me that it took me a whole day. But a whole day trying to post a review was going to easily become a killer instead of a cause of excitement. That's why I rebranded my Ko-fi and the way I shared the reviews on Co-host! Now it's a headache, but a headache that takes a slightly less amount of time and leaves me with enough left to try to fix the rest of my day. Or madden me even more, who knows?

Iron Valley, Linney's Campaign, is being live every Tuesday.

Yeah, kind of that is what I meant. Not only that, though.

I started the day by sharing everywhere I could the second post of Linney’s campaign on Iron Valley. Then I worked on posting the review of the week. All those reviews are from books I read in 2022 and 2023, I haven’t had that much of a reading spur this year mostly because I wanted to slow down and read some books I wanted outside of ARC and Beta picks. It hasn’t worked like that, if I have to be honest, but it’s like I needed the rest. I am still reading (or trying to 😬) for the teams I am already a part of, just took a year’s pause from actively looking and pursuing new teams to apply for.

After that, anyway, I had a really motivating brainstorming session with a trusted friend 💙 (my heart aches for being able not only to say but also believe that I have friends I can trust) that led me to dive for almost six hours on the [REDACTED] adventure. I was satisfied (and oh so tired) for basically finishing it with a little more than two weeks before the deadline (being aware of the time was, is, and will still be jamming my head), but I still have to make a few editions to make it the best I could. I feel so low-key hyped.

Working Wednesday, though, didn’t have much of ‘Working’. I started the day with a power outage and that wrecked my plans, even if they were really not that time or head-consuming. I could have finished with my Collaborative Writing Workshop later on, but I wasn’t feeling it. Had enough of a time figuring out what I was going to eat and how I was going to dive into the darkness of a kitchen I had even in the brightest of hours (and I had, for a change, the brightest of days so far lately). Fortunately, the power came back for a little bit to let me fix my breakfast. And then came back again so I could fix my lunch (really, really thankful for that). It went out for a little bit again when I was prepping my dessert (the first time in a long time, I can get accustomed to that 😏). But so far it held. Still have no idea what happened that day (to warrant the power outage, I mean).

So, when I finally was able to settle, it was already time for the coffee break (sacred, do not disturb), and I felt so out of sync that I just made some last-minute editions and called it a day. I added a few more things to my schedule (’cause I just remembered), but so far it could have totally gone as an UnPlanned Resting Day. I took a book from my small, brand-new, growing, personal library collection and read for hours. I don’t remember when was the last time I read a physical book I physically held in my physical hands (my last birthday doesn’t count because the book wasn’t mine yet and I was in a bookstore 👀), so it was nice. Now I just have to finish it. Preferably before the end of the month. Hopefully more on that next week 🤞

Backstage Thursday was… backstaging, ba dum tss 🥁 I did an orderly move of tasks to help me manage a bit better few certain things outside my thematic days. Like an edition I had to start because of me getting into a new project… as an editor. It took me longer than I expected, but I had so much fun starting to dive in there and I’m loving a lot the setting and the concepts and I’m into the idea that my ‘boss’ is such an easy-going person, it will be hella fun to work with them. I did my scheduled task as well, and also had to reject a possible paid project because I didn’t find myself fit enough for it. Mature decisions. I’m growing way so fast 🥺

I also found a solo TTRPG game I could playtest the week after next. I know I ‘should’ have finished the previous one by now, but life happened. Anyhow, I’m happy and excited for the new game. I really can’t wait. I’m surprisingly content as well with the subjects I was able to grab for my incoming semester. I had to withdraw all of them last semester, so I wasn’t sure how things were going to go on this one, but I even found a virtual class! It’s the best of the best of what I can get. I will totally talk a lot more about my college life after the semester starts in three weeks anyway, so let’s wait until then.

On Secret Friday, though, I was not having it. I woke up in a m o o d, that much I noticed. Last week I signed up as a player for an incoming charity weekend stream to raise funds for medical aid for Palestine by playing TTRPG games. I woke up that day overthinking the help I could give as a player with my need for accommodations. If I haven’t said it yet, I’m hard of hearing and that is such a Big Thing™ in my life… at least for me. All the session zeros and games seemed to be taking place on voice channels on Discord, and Discord doesn’t have yet closed captions integrated (w h y?!). The session zero for a game I wanted to play was taking place that day, so my mood wasn’t helping. It was pushing me to just withdraw altogether, not wanting to be a bother by switching the calls to Google Meets, which could be a problem during a live stream if none of us had a paid account cause Google would be kicking us out every hour. For a game of at least three hours. I… I wasn’t having it.

Fortunately, it did not have a grasp of me. The session zero was held on Google Meets, and the organizer said we would have an account with a Google free trial, so it shouldn’t be able to cut us out during the stream. I had a lot of fun meeting the cast and was glad of hadn’t listened to my head. Now I can formally invite you to accompany us from August 2nd to August 4th on Desis & Dragons’ Twitch channel, we will be playing a lot of games with huge diverse casts for such an amazing cause.

Still on that same Secret Friday, I was also having sad feelings, finding an article in my inbox that very morning that started like this:

Living with hearing loss impacts every aspect of my life. It shapes how I communicate, navigate the world, and connect (or, more often, don’t connect) with others. During Disability Pride month, I find myself thinking lately about unexpected support — the small, impactful ways people have shown up and advocated on my behalf when I couldn’t. There’s my wife, of course, who helps translate basically everywhere we go, and who’s learning ASL with me so we can communicate a little easier. — Pride and Perseverance by AnnaGrams.

As I said, I was having feelings, and I was already a filled well, so I was overflowing. That start hit me somewhere and thought about approaching the author, Anna Pulley, but I was at a loss for words.

I tried to do things that day, but nothing (apart from the session zero) seemed to be working for me, so, understandably so, I just let it be. My partner spent a lot of time with me and, after the session, we had our coffee break (I started having coffee breaks thanks to him) and a few hours watching a series.

I partly knew what I was feeling, so when I didn’t wake up on Playful Saturday feeling better, it didn’t surprise me. It took me a while to figure out what it was though, but after the first harsh wave, I noticed there is only one thing able to destroy me completely overnight. The hormones were shifting to prepare for the period.

What’s the problem with it? The feelings, thoughts, and emotions I have been feeling for the last decade around the hormones have been extremely radical. I don’t consider myself an impulsive person… in this sort of thing, at least, but the intensity that overcomes me has been huge enough to scare me. Of myself. For myself. I’ve been fighting depression all my life and earlier with this I noticed it is something that affects greatly my style of life. Very few people believe me, not the ones who could help me do something about it though. Yet. So it hasn’t been funny.

After communicating with my partner, he decided it best to keep me in his line of sight. So dear friends I also kept in the loop were checking on me. I felt a prisoner of my own body (though this happens often and not only because of this particular matter) and a hostage of my own mind. I made the smarter move, but it was a difficult day.

Reaching the evening, my partner started looking for activities to actively distract me. We ended up playing a few (many) puzzles from Baba is You. It was highly stimulating and I ended up deeply engrossed, so much so that when he had to leave me to spend time with his family, I shifted the attention toward the TTRPG game I’m playing. Instead of the four parts I used to go over in the previous weeks, I was only able to focus through one and a half of another, but so far that was more than I expected to do that day. Depending on how this new week goes, I may or may not finish this first campaign there. I’m excited.

The excitement doesn’t break through this mood that’s bringing me down, but now that I recognized it, it’s slightly easier to fight it. Just slightly. Being able to differentiate when something comes from you and when it comes from the liar you have as a brain makes it all a bit less strenuous. And, sometimes, that’s all you need.

I’m only playing in one game so far next weekend, but nonetheless, I hope to see you there. Until next week 💙

#AzuIsTalking #weekly update #weekly blog #blog #personal blog #weekly log #personal life #accountability

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totiredtowrite · 3 years ago

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Wolf In Sheeps Clothing

Warnings - Cursing because angry boy, reader being a cold mf, reader's clothes are described (but kind of vaguely so dw)

Note: I feel like I can hear the gif for some reason :D? Kind of self indulgent so reader is shorter than kyotani. Poor mad dog, always being put in his place by pretty boys. I'll have you know that I consult the wiki everytime I write something for character details by the way. (bragging shamelessly). Reader is also a second year and the student council president because this is fiction and I'm not sure if you have to be a third year hehe

this turned out longer than I thought it would, really popped off with this one

Male Reader

Kyotani Kentarou has a new enemy.

Whether or not you knew he though of you as an enemy didn't matter to him.

Suprisingly, it doesn't happen as often as some might think. His awful attitude and uncooperative nature ensures that he makes more enemies than friends, but most people are too afraid to approach him in order to become one of the two.

His new enemy?

You. (L/n) (y/n), Student Council President.

Kyotani never really though much of you. Not when you campaigned for the spot, (despite being in the second year), and not when you got the position. He's seen you, sure, you made that whole speech when you got the part and you oversaw detention sometimes.

Kyotani, (surprisingly), didn't get detention much. On the one time you oversaw the detention class when he was supposed to be there, he decided not to go.

So, overall, he hardly saw you at all. You were nothing but a passing thought in his mind when he heard people talking about you. He never expected to talk to you, much less consider you his worst enemy.

~~~

It really was a normal day for Kyotani. He woke up, took a shower, ate on his way to school, and slipped into class with his usual "fuck with me and you die" look on.

Practice was cancelled that day as the coach was out sick, so he didn't really have anything to do. Everything was all normal for him, right up until the end of the day. Kyotani was stalking through the hallways, the other second years moving out of his way and giving hushed whispers to their friends as they got ready to leave.

He was used to that, and even liked the feeling it gave him, knowing that these people were actually afraid of him. He was close to his locker when it happened.

He ran right into you, almost knocking you back. He glowered down at you, an angry spark in his eye that would have any other student running far away. You however, just stepped back to be clear of his general bubble, and looked up at him with a frown.

Truth be told, he had never really seen you up close. True he'd overheard some of his classmates talking about how 'intimidating' and 'handsome' you were, but Kentarou didn't expect to actually feel it coming off of you. He didn't expect to point out how attractive you were right off the bat.

The hard glisten in your eye faded as you scanned his face. You know this guy. Your expression changed from 'stone cold dictator' to 'unbothered student council president.'

Somehow feeling the tension, most of the students cleared out before either of you said a word.

"Kyotani Kentarou," you said, "Number 16 on our schools volleyball team. Infamous for your out of control aggression and prowess in your sport." You smirked at him quickly, straightening your blazer and standing up straight.

"The hell," he lifted his head to look down his nose at you, "why do you know me?"

You shrug. "I keep tabs on all the students I think are troublesome. Or interesting." He watched as you casually turned to your bag and pulled out a large binder. "You're on the first page, marked in red." you had a somewhat mocking tone in your voice, that coy smirk returning.

Kyotani growled, the noise sounding surprisingly like an animal. You were much more cocky up close. Cocky and aggravating. He moved closer to you so that your chests were almost touching while you put the binder away, and looked straight down at your face. "I can be much more troublesome," he said lowly.

You barked out a laugh. "Careful there Mad Dog." You advanced, causing Kyotani to step back. "Or I might just think you're threatening me," you continued to move forward. Kyotani took more steps back. The only way he could describe the feeling was like he was being herded like a sheep.

Another animalistic growl left his throat when his back hit the lockers. By now everyone had left, leaving just the two of you. "You aren't leaving a very good first impression on your president," you say dangerously, almost mocking your own title.

"Why do I need to leave a good impression on you," he muttered out. You didn't say anything and instead lifted your arm above his shoulder to slam it by his head. He recognized this feeling. Yet somehow, it felt all different.

Not once had the rumors spoken about the affect you had on people. You scanned his face again, those intimidating (e/c) eyes holding him steady in place. His breath hitched in his throat softly when you pulled your hand back to straighten his tie. "You don't," you said referring to his earlier question, eyes focused on his tie. "And you haven't."

You pulled away from him and stepped back, patting him on the shoulder before turning on your heel to head towards the doors. You turned your head just as you were about to leave, the blue grey light from the cloudy sky making you seem more threatening. "Take care, Mad Dog." You left the school building, leaving Kentarou breathing heavily and on guard at the lockers.

~~~

He really didn't expect that from you.

He had had a similar feeling, when Yahaba threw him into a wall and scolded him during the spring preliminary game against Karasuno. Similar, but not quite the same. It felt like you had him trapped. He still had your words replaying on repeat in his mind.

Those rumors he heard about you didn't do you any justice. He never heard anything about how easily you could make people feel... things. For once, he felt like he was the one being hunted. And oh boy did he not like that. All those times he'd seen you, he thought you looked like a regular goody two shoes who would report even the smallest wrongdoing to the teachers. He didn't expect a calculated, threatening boy who had a binder of 'troublemakers' and a heavy presence.

He didn't sleep more than 2 hours that night.

Maybe it was your eyes that were etched into his mind. Maybe it was your smooth voice, that look that made it seem like there was so much more under your surface.

So naturally he came to the conclusion that you were his rival.

He managed to avoid you all till the end of the week, Sunday rolling around like a saving grace. He didn't see you once for the rest of the week, but it still felt like you were watching him with those calculated eyes of yours. His shoulder still felt all weird and tingly from where you had touched him.

The weekend felt like an asylum to him, a feeling of safety and control returning to him when his older sister sent him out to go pick up some things from the store.

Kyotani had decided to cut through the park on his way back, but now he was quickly regretting his decision. It's not like he was afraid of you, he just thought that avoiding you would be the best option.

The last place he expected you to be was sitting in the park, staring out at the little man-made pond with a few birds at your feet. You had an overcoat on to compensate for the slightly chilly weather, a sweater visible underneath it. Your shoes were tapping the ground rhythmically.

You looked much less intimidating out of uniform. You had a neutral, content look on your face, cheek squished against your palm with your elbow resting on your knee. It was almost cute, he thought, if that was the right word for it.

"Are you just going to stand there forever," you turned your face towards him and regarded him with lidded eyes. "You can sit down you know."

He jumped, standing still for a second before slowly moving towards you. His guard up like a wall as memories of your last interaction replayed through his mind. His breath quickened ever so slightly, and his ears turned pink.

He slid into place on the bench next to you. You turned towards him again and smiled. He went bright red.

It was an actual smile. Not that cocky smirk, but a soft clad cute smile. You focused your attention back on to the pond.

"You live around here," Kyotani inquired gruffly.

You nodded. "I don't go out much. Usually cooped up in my room working on god knows what." You leaned back, draping your arms gracefully across the back of the bench. "Sorry about our little encounter, by the way. I must have come off way scary, right?" You gave him that soft smile again.

He looked away and hid his cheeks with his hand. "Like I'd be afraid of you," he muttered.

You hummed softly. A thought struck him. He regained his composure before speaking again. "You must have known that I live around here, right?"

You nodded wordlessly. "It was in your file."

Kyotani decided not to comment on how creepy that was, and instead muttered out a small "oh."

Neither of you said a word for a few moments.

"We really got off on the wrong foot, huh?" You turned your whole body towards him, watching his movements like a cat.

He just grunted.

You laughed a little bit, and extended your hand. "Why don't we start over. I'm (l/n) (y/n)."

Kyotani eyed your hand suspiciously before taking it. The tingly feeling returned, but this time it felt stronger as both your hands were bare. Your slightly smaller hand gripped his firmly, the slight size difference making Kyotani blush a bit.

You really weren't what he thought, were you? Even so, you were still his enemy. His cute, scary, calculated, calm enemy.

He doesn't even know what hit him.

#m!reader #hq x male reader #anime x male reader #male reader #x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #kyotani kentaro #kyotani x male reader #kyotani kentaro x male reader

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sunflowerdarlingx · 4 years ago

Text

Fred Weasley - “Fred doesn’t date”

Hi everyone, how are you all?

Here is another Fred imagine, I planned on writing a smut but I enjoyed the direction this took, please let me know if you would like another part to this!

I think if I write a second and third part it will lead to a bit of a steamy chapter.

Female Reader

Warnings: None

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

Fred Weasley wasn’t the kind of guy to catch feelings. He had his fun with girls who were up for it, but after a few fucks he’d cut them off and move on to the next. The cycle had done him good the last two years, and he didn’t intent to break it during his last year. But boy, was he in for a shock.

Fred was stood on the platform saying goodbye to his mum when something caught his eye, well, someone caught his eye. She was beautiful, her hair was tied up into a cute messy bun, her glasses stood on the tip of her nose, her small hand moving to push them further up as she smiled at the woman she was with. Her smile was gorgeous, and Fred couldn’t help but smile whilst he looked at her.

She definitely wasn’t in Rons year, or Ginny's, but she didn’t look younger than them. He moved away from his mum whilst she wrapped her arms around George, standing with Harry, Ron and Hermione he thought he’d ask them if they knew her.

“Hey Hermione, who’s that girl over there, with the glasses”, Hermione turned her head in your direction, “Oh, that’s Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a year above us, Hufflepuff I believe, why?”.

“Just wondering”

“Oooo, Fred’s got a crush” Ron laughed loudly.

“Fred’s got a crush, Who?” Molly said loudly as she looked around the platform.

Fred groaned before shoving Ron, “No one mum, we better get on the train before it’s too late. Love you mum, c’mon George” he made his way on to the train, checking behind him for Y/N but she was nowhere to be seen.

The majority of the train ride to Hogwarts was spent catching up with Lee, Angie, Kaitie and Alicia. The time during the ride came where they had to get into their robes, George and Fred went first down towards the changing compartments on the train, they went a bit earlier than normal so not many people were waiting. They were stood outside discussing their first prank of the year when Fred noticed Y/N walking towards him.

“Yeah mate, I got the map off Harry so we should be....” Fred stopped mid-sentence when he saw Y/N, mesmerised by the way she moved so gracefully down the train. George looked behind him, following Freds’s eyeline and smirked when he saw her.

“You’ve not got a chance mate” he laughed and snapped Fred out of his daydream.

“oh yeah? Whys that?” he said, a bit more aggressive than he should have.

“Well look at her and then look at you Freddie, that pretty much sums it up” George ruffled his hair.

“Are you remembering that we are identical twins”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, so we are” George laughed “point proven even more, because I definitely wouldn’t stand a chance”.

Fred shook his hand and smacked his shoulder when you got closer. They both turned to look at Y/N as she got closer, “Hi guys” she smiled, raising her hand giving them a soft wave.

“Hi, you alright?” George asked, returning her smile, “yeah I’m not too bad thanks, yourself?”.

“I’m good thanks, I’m George Weasley” he held his hand out for her to shake, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N” she peered over George's shoulder towards Fred, “and you are?”

Fred tried to speak, he really did but he was distracted by her. Her doe eyes staring up at him and her lips were slightly glossy, he wanted to feel those lips against his, her hand was held out to shake his and Fred couldn’t get over how soft they looked.

“ech hem” George cleared his throat and shoved Fred.

“What..shit sorry, I’m Fred” he placed his hand in hers, they were even softer than he imagined. The door to the changing compartment opened and Cedric Diggory walked out.

He nodded at the two boys before spotting Y/N and wrapping his arms around her, “alright trouble, how was your summer?”.

George slipped into the changing room and Fred stood awkwardly beside them, “it was good thanks Cedric, how was yours?”, “Eh yeah it was alright thanks babe, spent a couple weeks in Italy” he smiled down at her fixing his tie.

Fred couldn’t help but listen in on their conversation, the way Cedric called her babe made him a bit uncomfortable. How had he never noticed her before today? Surely, they’ve seen each other around schools or at parties?

“I’m jealous, I’d love to go to Italy, I’ve seen pictures, it really looks beautiful” Fred loved listening to the way she spoke, her voice like silk.

“You should definitely go if you get the opportunity, I’ll maybe take you one day if you want” he winked at her and Y/N laughed lightly “I'll hold you to that Diggory”.

“You better, I better get back to the boys but find me during the feast yeah?” he said and walked off down the train when he got a nod from her.

Y/N turned her attention back to Fred, “so how’re you Fred?” she turned her body and tilted her head up to look up at him.

Fred was shocked that she was starting up a conversation with him “I’m good thanks yeah” his voice came out a bit squeaky to start with, he cleared his throat, blushing, internally smacking himself “how about yourself?”.

Y/N grinned up at him and his blushing state “I’m good thank you, excited to get back to school, I’ve kind of missed it”.

“I know what you mean, trust me when you live in a house with a family as big as mine, the space alone at Hogwarts is enough to have you craving being back” he laughed.

“I’ve heard there is a lot of you Weasleys, how many of yous are there?” she fiddled with clothes in her hand.

“Well, there’s mum and dad, and then my older brothers Bill, Charlie and Percy, then myself and George and then Ron and Ginny” Freds face lit up slightly whilst he talked about his family, Y/N couldn’t help but smile up at him when she noticed.

“I’ve met Ginny before, she’s lovely” Y/N said, “actually I think I’ve met your brother Charlie before, does he work in Romania?” she questioned, and Fred raised his eyebrows, curious as to how she knew Charlie.

Just as Fred was about to answer George came out of the compartment, “all yours brother”, “eh yeah mate, I’ll meet you back at the compartment.”

George raised his eyebrow, the stare he got back from Fred was a clear ‘fuck off’, he smirked and said goodbye to Y/N before heading back down the train.

Fred turned back to Y/N “yeah Charlie does work in Romania, how’d you know that?”.

“My brother Thomas works there too, you’ve maybe met him, they’ve been good friends since school”. Fred did indeed know Thomas; he’d met him a few times actually.

“No way? Yeah, I know Thomas, he’s a good lad” Fred said and noticed a group of first years coming towards the compartment. “You’d better go get changed, first years are coming down”. It was well known that groups of first years often stopped older students who were at the compartments and bombarded them with eager questions about Hogwarts.

Y/N turned behind her and groaned, “it’s okay, you go first, you were here before me”.

“Trust me, you go first, more likely to ask you questions with you looking all cute and innocent than are with big old me” he laughed not realising that he had called her cute.

Y/N blushed slightly before nodding and making her way into the compartment. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she got changed, of course she knew who Fred and George were, they were the famous Hogwarts pranksters. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a crush on him, she’d fancied him since her third year and the fact he just called her cute had her blushing.

She pulled her knee-high socks over her legs, she looked at herself in the mirror and she was quite excited for Fred to see her when she walked out, not that she thought he’d have any interest in her, she just thought she looked hot.

She had on her usual white shirt with the top three buttons undone, her black skirt which was a bit shorter than last year, her yellow and black tie was wrapped loosely round her neck, her socks stopped just above her knee and she had simple black pumps on.

As she opened the compartment door, Fred couldn’t help but look her up and down, not only did she look beautiful, but she also looked so fucking sexy. Her hair was a bit messier than it was on the platform but he kinda liked it even more and her glassed were resting on top of her head. She pulled them down onto her nose and looked up to Fred. He bit his lip to stop himself from smirking down at her. Y/N winked at him, mouthing a thank you before making her way back to her compartment.

During the first two weeks Fred had been noticing Y/N all over school, he may or may not have been using the map to see where she was. He’d often see her out by the lake herself or in the library and would ‘just so happen’ to find himself in those places when she was there. Fred wasn’t a stalker, he wasn’t even close to it, he just really enjoyed her company and as time went on, he learned that she enjoyed his company to.

They got a lot closer and soon they were even arranging to meet, Fred often keeping her company whilst she studied or them spending time out in the gardens having little picnics or watching the stars at night.

Now I know what you’re thinking, they sound like dates, but they were not dates. Fred didn’t date.

Fred had noticed that he was starting to care about Y/N, quite a bit actually, but he didn’t act on it. He figured it was just because he hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that was mainly due to the fact that all his attention was on Y/N.

In all honesty Fred was starting to fancy her, he loved spending time together, he loved their deep chats and flirty banter, he loved the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed and the little snorts she would make when she found one of his jokes particularly funny. He also found himself getting a bit jealous, watching her throughout meals laughing with the idiots in Hufflepuff or when she had to cancel her plans because one of the prefect boys needed a partner for their patrols.

On this particular day, Fred was stood waiting for Y/N to meet him, they had planned to go for a swim down at the lake with George and Lee. He heard footsteps and looked up, only to see Y/N walking down the steps with Cedric.

She was in a little sun dress which highlighted all the beautiful curves of her body. Her hair was in two braids and her regular glasses had been swapped for a pair of sunglasses on top of her head.

She jumped from the last step and wrapped her arms around Fred, he gripped her hips tightly “Hiya Freddie, ready for a swim?” her cheerful voice mumbled into his neck.

He put her down on the floor and grinned down at her “of course I am.”, he looked over at Cedric “you alright mate?”.

Cedric frowned slightly “yeah thanks, yourself? Didn’t realise you were coming swimming”.

Fred couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, “yeah I’m good, better now this ones finally ready for a swim”, he winked at Y/N before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “better get to the lake before George and Lee get bored of waiting”.

Freds smirk quickly left his face while he watched Y/N and Cedric in the water, she had her arms wrapped around him, trying to push him under the water but Cedric just laughed as he dunked them both under the water.

“Stop being a moody git and ask her out” George splashed Fred, “sitting there with a face like a slapped arse isn’t doing anyone any good, and if I'm honest, Lee and I are getting fed up with that frown on your face. Plus, you can’t keep leading her on forever”

Fred wiped the water out of his eyes before splashing George back, “I don’t ask girls out” he stated bluntly “that’s how things get complicated and what do you mean leading her on?”

“You know exactly what I mean” George raised his voice slightly before lowering it again “You’ve heard the rumours going round about how the ‘famous prankster’ Fred Weasley is actually settling down, all these little dates you have just lead her on”.

“We don’t go on dates, we hang out”

“ha sure, nights under the stars and romantic walks into Hogsmeade aren't dates. You need to decide what you want with her, if you don’t want anything serious then you need to leave her alone to flirt with Cedric”, George swam away over to Lee and wrapped his arms around him to get a piggyback.

Fred moved to sit on the grass beside the lake, did he want something more than a friendship with Y/N? It was clear they fancied each other, was he really leading her on?

He made his way back up to the castle, leaving them at the lake, he needed some time to decide what he wanted.

Y/N was splashing around the lake with the boys when she noticed Fred was missing, “Hey George, where's Fred gone?” he shrugged his shoulders and started splashing Lee again.

Cedric pulled Y/N closer to him by her waist “I wouldn't worry Y/N, he’s a big boy” Y/N frowned at Cedric before giggling when he tickled her sides.

“Come with me to look for him?” she asked and started walking back towards the grass, Cedric groaned but followed anyway.

“Why don’t we go grab a snack from the kitchen and get changed and then you can find him at dinner? I wanted some time alone with you today..if im being honest”

“Fineeeeee” she dragged out her words as she wrapped her towel around her.

Fred was laid in his bed, thinking about everything that had happened over the last few weeks, George was right, it wasn’t fair to lead her on, but Fred knew for sure that he wanted her to be his – the thought of her being with someone else made him sick to his stomach.

He thought it over and decided that the only difference would be the labels and he kind of hoped that if lads knew she was his then they’d stop flirting with her. They already went on dates and the thought of finally getting to kiss her and hold her just made the idea even more appealing.

He stood up off his bed deciding to make his way back to the lake. When he reached the corridor by the kitchen, he turned the corner and he saw Y/N against the wall with Cedric in front of her. His elbow resting on the wall above her head as his other hand pushes some of her baby hairs out of her face. Her little giggle echoed through the hall and Freds heart broke at the sight, crumbling when Cedric placed a soft and delicate kiss to her cheek.

Part Two

#Fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader

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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago

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house unity // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this story has taken me so long and i feel like i’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. i love it a lot and you can really tell what i was watching/ doing in each sections lol. for example, the dramatic ending is courtesy of the heart wrenching sylvia plath poems i was reading earlier today lol :’) also i made the reader a ravenclaw because im a ravenclaw and i felt like it hehe. n e way! hope you all like it and pls leave feedback if you have any! like, rb, follow <3

summary: Fred Weasley and you have a bit of a love hate relationship, however, on Fred’s behalf its more love than hate. Dating a Ravenclaw would be a great stride in house unity, wouldn’t it?

(disclaimer: when i describe the differences in the twins i mean the actors! especially since she who shall not be named did not give us much about their physical differences >:/ i found the info from fandom.com so it may be wrong, but i went with it. also, i made up a few things for this story, like the annual Christmas ball)

(8.7k)

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You wished you could enjoy some things as easily as your peers could.

You didn’t like most sweets from Honeydukes, you didn’t care for Quidditch, but you especially hated the Weasley twin’s pranks.

In your first year, just weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, you had met Fred and George. You had been unable to answer the riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room, so you decided to take a walk around the grounds.

You just turned the corner to the courtyard, when a hard snowball hit you square in the face. The sheer force of it made you stumble backyards, and you barely had time to wipe the snow off your face before another one hit you hard in the back. You were unable to keep your balance and tumbled forwards. Your hands braced your fall and scraped against the rough stone harshly. Your palms stained the snow red as they began to bleed. You barely had time to nurse them before another snowball, this time the size of a Quaffle, plummeted onto your head. It pushed you face-first into the snow, and you recovered quicker, not wanting to stay there for any longer. You whirled around, looking for anyone who could have seen who did that. You saw two boys with flaming red hair running away, and you followed them.

You caught them just before they entered the castle, all three of you winded. They were twins.

“Did you see who did that? Was it you?” you had pried, and both of them looked giddy.

“What’d you mean?” the shorter of the two answered immaturely.

The other looked down at your hands and robes, seeing blood still flowing from your palms, and your stained tights. He glanced at his brother, who was still laughing about it all and shoved his shoulder.

“You git,” he mumbled to his brother, “she’s bleeding,” he took your hands in his and tried to wipe some of the blood off, only for it to stain the sleeves of his sweater.

“Oh, gross!” the shorter one exclaimed, backing away from the two of you.

“How did you two do that?” you asked, pulling your hands away from the kinder one.

“Bewitched ‘em,” the short one said arrogantly before his brother could stop him.

“You bewitched them to attack me?” you felt tears stinging your eyes and hoped the taller one wouldn’t notice that too.

“Well, we didn’t mean ‘em to go after you,” the kind one said quickly, trying to rub the blood out of his shirt.

“Yeah, but it was still a laugh,” the shorter one said, nudging his brother’s shoulder good spiritedly.

“Shut up, Fred,” he mumbled, obviously annoyed, “we’re sorry about your hands, we didn’t mean for it to happen, honest.”

Fred watched you silently as you swallowed hard, only able to nod at them, accepting the boys’ apology. You turned on your heal and went to the infirmary, hoping Madam Pomfrey could mend your cuts. You had wiped your tears all the way there.

In your third year, you had been told there would be a Christmas ball. You had been stuffed in a large room with the Gryffindors, and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with a boy who had long dreadlocks.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick stood in the center of the room, a large record player was next to them.

“As some of you may know, there is an annual Christmas Ball here at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained, looking sharply at the Gryffindors.

“Professor McGonagall and I have a tradition,” Flitwick said, casting a glance at the Ravenclaws, “of holding a class on how to dance properly at these events.”

“Think of it as charity,” McGonagall said devilishly, “we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourselves.”

Flitwick stifled a laugh and moved his wand to turn on the music. Loud, old-sounding music blared from the ancient device and you looked confused at your teachers.

“Everyone, pair up!”

An awkward haze fell over the room of third years. None of you knew how to talk to the opposite sex, let alone dance with them. You turned to look around you, accidentally making eye contact with the Gryffindor boy with dreads. His eyes widened when they saw yours, and his friends behind you noticed. You looked at his friends, only to see Fred and George Weasley. You rolled your eyes at the two, but their friend was jolted forwards.

He bumped into you, Fred having pushed him lightly on the back.

“Go on Lee!” Fred shouted, laughing loudly.

People were moving to the center of the room in pairs, and Lee looked at you nervously. He held his hand out to you.

“Want to dance?” He asked you shyly.

You took his hand with worry, nervous about the wicked grin the twins had. That grin always worried you.

You let Lee lead you out to the floor, falling in line with everyone else. You both watched McGonagall looking around for a partner for her to demonstrate with.

Fred’s obnoxious laugh cut through the room, and her eyes landed on him.

“Perfect! Mr. Weasley, come be my partner.”

He groaned and moved forwards, his brother laughing loudly. Beside you, Lee had a wide smile.

“Place your hand on my waist,” she said flatly.

“Your what?” he repeated, his eyes going wide.

“My waist, don’t be daft,” she replied, moving his hand to the right place.

It seemed everyone’s cheeks had gone red due to stifled laughter. Lee bumped into you as he doubled over, not trying to contain himself.

In your fifth year, you were made a prefect.

You were hesitant to accept the position, feeling a bit tied down by the prat status that came with the responsibility.

Wearing your slightly dusted badge, you had never polished it like you saw Percy doing every second of his life, you led a group of Ravenclaw first years up the stairs.

“Right this way,” you shouted over their heads, making sure no one got lost.

“Who had the sense to make you a prefect?” Fred taunted, coming up from behind you and flicking your ear.

You moved to swat his hand away, but he had already jumped back.

“Shove off, Fred,” you shot him a glare and turned back to the children, “the stairs can get a bit confusing, so watch your step!”

Fred watched you admirably, noticing the way your voice changed to a sweet sound when you spoke to anyone but him.

“Yeah, watch the stairs!” Fred shouted, pulling you by your elbow onto a new staircase.

The steps moved away from the first years, taking you and Fred to the opposite corridor you wanted to go down. You looked down and realized how close you were to the edge. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Fred’s robes, pulling him closer to you. He tilted forward and nearly lost his balance, which would have sent you both down. He flung his hand out and firmly held onto the railing, suspending the both of you over the edge for a moment before he pulled you back up. You were close to his chest, still holding onto him until the stairs stopped moving. You hadn’t meant to close your eyes, but when you finally opened them you saw your group of first-years looking at you from the other staircase, seeming absolutely terrified.

You leaped from Fred’s embrace, sending him stumbling back a bit. You marched up the stairs to loop back to the first years and heard Fred calling after you.

“Going so soon?” you heard his laugh echoing off the walls of the room.

For most of your life, your interactions with Fred Weasley were that simple. Maybe once a year you two would spit some insults at the other, and be on your way, not to speak to each other until next year.

However, when you walked into your Transfiguration class, late by a few minutes due to your prefect duties, you felt a punch in the gut when you saw flaming red hair.

The punch in the gut was increased tenfold when you saw that the only empty seat was next to the flaming red hair.

Breathing deeply and sending a fake smile his way, you sat uncomfortably next to Fred.

It would have been difficult to tell them apart, but your observant eye had always been able to. Besides a few odd growth spurts they were prone to, George usually came out the taller of the two. Fred also had a small scar on his left eyebrow.

“Oh hello, prefect,” Fred said lazily, drawing back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

The bottom of his shirt rose a little and you willed your eyes to not look at the toned bit of stomach that peeked through.

“Weasley,” you said, pulling your textbook out of your bag.

“Looking forward to your new prat duties?”

“More than I’m looking forward to sitting with you,” you pushed your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes, Fred stared at the side of your face.

“Always so charming,” he finally drawled, leaning forwards and tugging his sweater down.

Something about Fred always made you want the last word, the last laugh.

“Only for you, Fred.”

In professor McGonagall’s opinion, Fred Weasley had the littlest appreciation for time of all the students she had taught.

He wasted his time in the common room, in the Great Hall, and in the hallways.

Even during her Transfiguration class.

He was happy to spend his time with what he thought was shamelessly flirting with you, and McGonagall was happy to embarrass him while he did it.

“Mister Weasley?”

Fred turned to look at McGonagall’s severe face. Before he could say any excuse, insisting that you were talking too, she waved her wand at his desk. His book flew open to the right page, and a force that was not his own was pushing his head into the book. His hair fell in front of his face, and you could tell he was fighting against the spell McGonagall was using.

Fred seemed to be tamed by McGonagall after that and didn’t bother you for the rest of the class. On the way out, he held the door open for you. He called out to you in the hallway.

“Good luck with that weird rash, Y/n!” you felt your cheeks burn furiously as laughs sounded off in the hallway. You turned to see Fred watching you walk away, and lifted both of your middle fingers in the air to him.

“So classy!” he called back.

“Shove! OFF!” you yelled, shouting over the now deafening laughter in the hallway.

You were already dreading the upcoming months.

You were right to, for class with Fred did not get any easier.

You traded your thin tights for thicker ones and your light dress shirt for a heavy sweater. Your blue scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck, and you didn’t bother to pin your prefect badge on it these days.

“Miss, y/l/n, you must remember your badge,” McGonagall said as you came into class.

You looked down at your scarf, patting your robes until you felt the metal. Lifting up your scarf and showing the professor the badge underneath it, you gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded approvingly and waved her hand, you moved to your seat.

Before you could put your things down, Fred was looking at you. You could hear the gears turning in his head, thinking of something presumably rude to say to you.

“Weasley,” you said first, hoping this would inspire him to stop looking at you.

He blinked at you, before smiling and turning back to his textbook.

“Today, we’re going to be learning a vanishing spell,” McGonagall started.

You had already turned to the page before she told it to you, you had read through the entire textbook over the summer.

You heard Fred scoff next to you, but ignored him.

Looking down at the directions in the book, you had remembered your successful attempt at making one of your father’s shoes disappear. He had been so proud of you, he didn’t care that he only had one brown Oxford instead of two.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, watching as you easily made the rat in front of you vanish.

“Practice,” you said absently, turning your head to look back into the textbook.

Fred began to try the spell himself, his focus on the goblet he had taken from the great hall. He did the right wand movements, but his pronunciation was all wrong. You watched as the spell rebounded off the goblet and hit his tie, making the bottom half of it vanish. His hand flew to his chest, his mouth curved in a disbelieving grin when he didn’t feel the point of his tie.

“Well, bloody hell, that could have been much worse,” he gasped out, pushing his hair off his face and leaning back in his chair.

You couldn’t help the small nervous laugh that escaped your lips, but you were able to stifle it quickly. Fred had noticed your smile and glanced at you, happy to amuse you.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Fred regaining his composure after nearly vanishing himself. You pretended to read your book, but you had already read the page dozens of times. You wanted an excuse to not talk to Fred.

“Ever going to turn the page?” Fred asked from beside you, and you became very aware of his eyes on the side of your face.

“I’m absorbing the information,” you replied flatly, keeping your head in the book to hide your blush.

He laughed, sitting straight in his seat. He seemed to be attempting the spell again. You bit your lip as you watched him practice, wondering if you should correct him so he doesn’t hurt himself.

He had just begun to say the spell when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” he glanced at you and your hand on his shoulder, smirking at you.

“Yes, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and felt the urge to gag. Your face crinkled in disgust and Fred smiled.

“Your pronunciation is wrong.”

“Well go on then,” he said, urging you to continue.

“Evanesco,” you said simply, but Fred’s eyes wrinkled in confusion.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, turning back to the goblet but lowering his wand, “Evenesco.”

He had replaced the ‘a’ with an ‘e’ sound, but he hadn’t heard it, you supposed.

“It’s ev-an-es-co,” you said slowly, placing your pronunciation on the ‘an’, “you’re saying ev-en-es-co.”

His eyebrows raised, finally understanding. He repeated it to you slowly, and you nodded your head when he said it right.

He smiled confidently, casting the spell on his goblet. The goblet turned foggy, and Fred could wave his hand through it like it was a ghost.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“This is miserable,” he groaned.

You waved your wand and said the verbal part of the spell, finishing off the goblet. It completely disappeared and Fred let out another groan, rolling his head back in annoyance.

“You’re miserable,” he said to you teasingly.

You looked at him through your lashes, your brows furrowed, “Whatever, Fred,” your face grimaced in annoyance, “I’m just trying to help, your welcome, by the way.”

You pulled your bag onto your lap and began to pack up your books.

Fred let out a sigh like he was going to say something. You turned to him, but he merely shook his head.

“Forget it,” he said, seeming to be at a loss of words.

You stood from your seat the second McGonagall dismissed class, leaving Fred at your shared desk.

“She’s totally into me!”

“She hates your guts, mate,” George said, pulling his lips into a thin-lined sympathy smile.

Fred scoffed and shook his head, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“You don’t get it,” he pressed, determined to make George see.

“She looks like she wants to throw herself into the Forbidden Forest every time she sees you,” George replied, determined to stop his brother from future heartbreak.

“Whatever, just you watch,” Fred said, tossing his Quidditch broom from hand to hand and looking at the massive stands above them, empty for the practice, “in a few weeks she’ll be in one of those seats, cheering me on.”

“He’s lost it,” Harry mumbled to George as he walked past, baffled by Fred’s dazed look.

George nodded hastily, following Harry away from his lovesick brother.

Fred was not often detoured by anyone’s cautionary guidance, so the endless warnings from George slid off his ego like melted butter.

Fred had spent so much time in the last Quidditch match with his eyes glued to the Ravenclaw student section, looking for you, that he had barely hit any bludgers the entire game. Oliver had some tasteful words for him in the changing rooms, but it was no worse than his mother’s screaming.

You were not at the Quidditch match, you never were. You had always used the advantage of the empty castle to go to the kitchens. The elves were the only ones left there, and you liked talking with them. Some times Luna would join you.

It seemed you and Fred were going opposite directions while searching for each other at the same time.

No matter how many cookies Dobby shoved towards you and Luna, you could not get Fred out of your head.

You thought about his arms wrapped around you on the stairs, you thought about the way he could always make your cheeks burn, and you thought of the way his eyes poured into your face like it was the only thing he’d ever seen. You hated him. He was rude, arrogant, and annoying. He ran around your head constantly.

McGonagall had some choice words for Fred that night after the match. The sulking from the loss had been toned down, but the hushed sounds of Oliver’s feet pounding against the floor in his bedroom could be heard all the way from the common room.

“Where is Wood?” she burst through the portrait hole, still in her robes she wore to the match.

“He’s upstairs, why?” Harry replied, looking nervous.

“I need to have a word with him,” she cast a glance at Fred, “and his methods of training his beaters.”

Fred and George both shot from where they sat on the couch.

“What?” George yelled.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Mister Weasley,” she squinted at them, “whichever one of you was looking around at the Rave-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence as if she had an epiphany.

Her pursed lips twisted into an evil looking smile.

“You know, Mister Weasley,” she took a step towards the boys and spoke to them only, “dating a Ravenclaw would show great strides in house unity,” Fred’s eyes bulged out of his head and George was already turning pink with laughter, “perhaps then you could focus on Quidditch again.”

George was nearly purple due to lack of air, and Harry’s mouth was agape in shock as McGonagall whisked her robes and swiftly climbed back out of the portrait hole.

“What is she on about?” Harry asked George.

Fred flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands. His life was over. If McGonagall could catch onto something like that, couldn’t you? You hadn’t started to flirt back, and Fred was beginning to wonder if George was right about your feelings towards him.

Soon enough, George was spouting everything McGonagall had said before he could catch his breath. He told anyone in the common room how much you hated Fred, and how much he desperately fancied you. Fred figured there was no use to stop him, because once again, if McGonagall could catch on, couldn’t everyone else?

Sunday morning was always rough for you. You pulled your heavy quilt closer to your cold cheeks, hoping for the sun to go back down and the weekend to restart. It never did.

You slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight turtle neck. Still feeling the cold air of the castle seeping through, you pulled on a sweater over the turtle neck. You tugged on some wool socks and pulled the fabric of the shirt as high up your neck as it would go.

You and Luna had plans to go to Hagrid’s hut today, he had promised her some magical flower seeds he had found in his garden. You liked to spend time with Luna, she was an easing presence and you always knew how to talk to her, even if most people didn’t.

You clutched an old muggle novel to your chest, hoping to trap some of your body heat. The hallways were surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, and you glanced at your watch, seeing breakfast had just ended.

You noticed that a lot of students with red ties were looking at you oddly. They would see you and smile widely, as if you were a new friend to them. You kept your head down until you met Luna in front of the great hall.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked before she even greeted you.

“What?”

“I just saw Harry, he said McGonagall told Fred to ask you out.”

You laughed, expecting her to do so as well. She didn’t and her face stayed stoic. She began to walk outside.

You were locked into place for a second before you jumped into line with her.

“What?” you repeated.

“Harry told me-” she began, but you waved your hands, cutting her off.

“No, I heard you, but what do you mean? What did McGonagall say?”

Luna had to have finally gone loony.

“He told me that after they lost Quidditch yesterday, she came in looking for Fred, she said he was quite distracted during the match,” she said, looking dreamily at you, “and she said something about how dating a Ravenclaw would be great for house unity,” Luna finished, toying with the tote bag at her side.

“Why did Harry think the Ravenclaw had to be me?” you asked, thinking there was a huge misunderstanding.

“Oh, well,” she said like she had forgotten a large part of the story, “after George heard what McGonagall said, he lost it. Harry said he laughed so hard he cried,” Luna giggled to herself while imagining the sight, “and he told everyone in the common room that Fred fancied you.”

Your face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment. The entire Gryffindor house had been laughing all night because George said Fred fancied you.

You were about to burst into protests, insist that it’s not true, but a gaggle of second years wearing red ties all pointed at you, talking among themselves.

You stepped towards them, making sure your prefect badge was visible. You watched their eyes flash down to the blue pin, and back up at your face, eyes wide. They scurried off and you fell back into place with Luna.

“That was rude of them,” Luna said, looping her arm with yours.

“Yeah,” you said quietly under your breath, your mind cloudy with thoughts.

You and Luna walked quietly out to Hagrid’s. You glanced up and saw the last person you had wanted to see.

Fred and George stood at the point where the path diverged to the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, throwing a little flame-like ball to each other, bouncing it off their arms, feet, and chests. A small group of some younger kids had huddled around them, ‘ooing’ and ‘awing’ at each pass.

Fred had a large smile on his face, and the sight of it made your stomach churn with nerves.

You ducked your head down, hoping you and Luna would pass without a problem. You would not.

“Hi Fred,” Luna lifted a hand to wave at him, and the small light fell onto the ground as Fred saw you, “hi George.”

George smiled evilly at the sight of his brother nervously looking anywhere but you.

“Fun looking game your playing,” Luna said, trying to stop to talk, but you dragged her along.

“See you later Luna, Y/n!” George called out to the two of you, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to them? You could have asked Fred about what Harry said,” Luna asked you soothingly, looking at you curiously.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling very overwhelmed, “it’s weird. I don’t even know what happened but the thought of it is so weird,” you paused, trying to grasp the words, “I mean, Fred can’t like me. We detest each other, its fun.”

“Well, do you like him?” she had asked the one question you were avoiding.

Fred had always been a thorn in your side. Ever since you met him he was rude. He never apologized for anything, he laughed, poked, and prodded at you for his own amusement. Yet, whenever you saw his soft-looking hair, you swallowed hard. When he inched closer to you, even just to whisper something rude, you felt your chest tighten. He looked at you, and you could swear he actually cared about what you were saying. Maybe detest was a little strong, perhaps just annoyed.

Granted, he was a teenage boy, and you are a teenage girl, mixed messages are bound to be sent. You thought you had been clear with your messages to Fred, though. “Leave me alone,” nothing bitter, nothing kind, just the wish to be left alone. Of course, Fred did not read your message that way. The enticing message he got was more along the lines of: “I’m going to pretend I want you to leave me alone, but please, don’t. Chase me through the hallways, confess undying love for me, kiss me passionately”. Now, it is entirely possible that Fred’s interpretation was a little clouded by his own wants and wishes, but this did not stop him.

The talk of the castle, for at least the following school week, was you and Fred.

You had never been whispered about, pointed at, or thought of like this. Fred seemed to be enjoying it.

In class Monday, Fred pretended nothing had happened. He swung his arm over the back of your chair and waited for the look of disgust to flash across your face, which it did, and he chuckled to himself.

Soon enough, the whispers and pointing had subsided, and they were replaced by odd looks as if they were disbelieving of something.

Luna found you in the courtyard sitting under a tree and skipped over to you.

“You hadn’t told me Fred asked you out,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “officially.”

Once again, you laughed, but she did not. She sat in front of you, crossing her legs.

“Oh my-” you trailed off, lifting your head to look at Luna, “what’s happened now?”

“Hermione told me that Fred has been raving to everyone about how you’re dating.”

Your eyes were wild with disbelief. You couldn’t have even comprehended what was going on at this school these days.

“Well, no one’s told me that we’re dating,” you said, your voice riddled with annoyance.

In perfect timing, Fred, George, and Lee bounded from the school and out to the courtyard. They were laughing and shoving each other, looking to be having a great time.

You stood from the ground, dusting off your pants and walking over to the three with fury.

“Fred!” you called out to him, and he stopped and turned to you.

A look of fear flashed on his face, but he covered it with something else, was it admiration? Love?

You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes, stepping close to him. He tilted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Around you, George, Lee, and Luna stood with their arms crossed, watching intently.

Your bodies were almost touching, and your finger stabbed into his chest.

“Who do you think you are?” you said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.

Once again, Fred’s face fell for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around your waist in some sort of embrace. You squirmed from his touch and backed away from him.

“Who do you think you are?” you repeated, this time louder. George and Lee flinched from behind you.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.

Your face twisted with confusion, what is he on about?

“What?”

He continued, stepping closer to you.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked earnestly, moving to rub his hand on your arm.

He was trying to flip the script, make you feel crazy.

“Fred, you’ve lost it, really,” you replied, walking back to the tree to gather your books.

“Maybe when you’ve regained consciousness,” you walked back up to him, keeping your distance, “or the effects of whatever potion you took start to wear off, please try to explain what is going on.”

You walked away from them, leaving Fred with a wicked smile.

“Alright, see you later!” he called out to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your hair blew in front of your face but Fred could see your puzzled expression. His smirk grew wider and he turned to George, Lee, and Luna. They looked awfully concerned.

“Oh,” he placed his hands on his hips, “isn’t she great?”

You had gotten to Transfiguration early, your prefect duties switched for the week. You crossed your legs and placed a book on them, reading discretely while McGonagall was still in her office.

Just as she began to address the class, Fred strolled in, hands in his pockets. He slipped into the seat next to you and you bookmarked your page. You scooted your chair in and slipped the worn book into your bag, listening to McGonagall begin her lecture. Monday’s were often boring lecture days in Transfiguration.

You heard the screech of Fred’s chair on the floor, and in the corner of your eye saw him moving closer to you. He rested his elbow on the desk and placed his chin in his palm. He leaned close to you.

“Hello,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You ignored him, dipping your quill into your ink in case McGonagall said something note-worthy.

“What’s ‘a matter,” he paused as if he was thinking of the most annoying thing to say to you, “darling?”

You audibly gagged, and his smile widened.

“What do you want?” you caved, asking him.

“Oh nothing,” he leaned back in his chair, still whispering to you, “just for you to be my girlfriend.”

You went rigid. Your face suddenly got very warm. You lost grip of your quill and it toppled over your ink, sending dark liquid across the desk and onto your white sleeve. You cursed loudly out of reflex and it caught McGonagall’s attention.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?”

Everyone turned to look at you and Fred in the back of the room, some people smirking. Fred stayed leaned back in his chair, watching you.

“I’m sorry Professor,” you stumbled out, wiping both the ink and your sleeve at the same time, making both things worse, “I just-”

Fred pulled his wand out from beside you and did a simple cleaning spell, you supposed. The ink receded back into its bottle and the stain on your sleeve disappeared. McGonagall watched him intently.

“Very resourceful Weasley, Miss Y/l/n, please don’t disrupt my class again,” she said curtly, returning to the lesson.

You heard a few snickers from your classmates, your face still a deep shade of red. You swallowed hard as you felt your heart beating in your ears.

Fred leaned forward again so his mouth was aligned with your ear.

“What do you say?” he whispered.

“What are you talking about Fred? Why are you doing all this?” you asked, straining to keep your desperate voice in a whisper.

“I’m only having some fun,” he replied as if he hadn’t been making your life a living hell for the past weeks.

You shot him a pleading look, and when he saw your flushed cheeks and watery eyes, his face softened.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your knee, a knot formed in your throat and shivers went down your arms, “I didn’t mean to-” he trailed off and your jaw clenched. You returned your gaze to the front of the class.

“Listen, I’ve just been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been playing a sort of prank. On everyone but us.”

His tone was soft and playful as if he were letting you in on a secret. You supposed he was.

You raised your eyebrows, pressing him to continue.

“Well, George basically told everyone in our house that I fancy you, so I wanted to have some fun with it, switch it on them.”

You pressed your eyebrows together, still looking to the front of the room while Fred was inches away from your ear.

“I’ve told everyone we’re dating,” he said plainly, “house unity and all, as McGonagall said.”

“So that was true? What Harry told Luna?” you said before you could stop yourself, happy to finally get answers.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what Harry said, but I’m sure he didn’t leave anything out.”

“Why did George tell everyone that? That you,” you trailed off, feeling the words choking in your mouth, “that you fancy me?”

“Because I do,” he said quickly, and just as quickly moved on, “so what do you say? Want to be my girlfriend-” he paused, realizing what he had just said, “well, my girlfriend of sorts, not like my real girlfriend, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, and-” he stopped himself.

This time it was his turn for his cheeks to burn and his eyes to awkwardly avoid yours.

“Why do all this? Seems a lot for a joke that no one but us will laugh at,” you said, trying to ignore his confession.

“I’m willing to go to the ends of the Earth for a joke, my dear.”

Fred was dreadfully serious when saying that, and this became clear within hours.

Walking past the Dungeons and up the many stairs to your common room, you heard Fred call out to you.

“Wait up!” he was breaking away from a large group of Gryffindors, and all of them watched him with a keen eye,

“What, Fred?”

“Hey, that's not a very girlfriend-y tone,” he wrapped his arm easily around you.

You were sure it was meant to be sweet, but it felt a bit imprisoning.

“I never agreed to this,” you didn’t shake off his arm, but you felt inclined to. You were aware of the many eyes pouring into your back.

“I thought we had? Oh,” his arm left your shoulder, and you felt a little colder, “well then I suppose I could leave it all be, go back on my word, humiliate myself.”

His tone was a playful one, and you couldn’t help the bashful smile that reached your cheeks. You knew you had no obligation to Fred, but the whispers and gossip had seemed to subside during this new joke of his. You stopped at the landing, and the group of Gryffindors walked past you, staring at you both. Fred waved them off and nodded his head towards you, smiling.

“Why should I?” you clutched some textbooks to your chest, feeling grateful for the wall it put between you and Fred. He looked down at you, his hair falling into his forehead.

“Well,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, inching closer to you, “as I said, I just think it could be a bit of fun.”

“Fun for you. What’s in it for me?”

“What? Besides utter fame and popularity from being associated with me?”

“Oh shove off, Fred,” you rolled your eyes at him, but once again could not help the smile that spread across your face.

“See? I’m growing on you already.”

“I’m still seeing no benefit for me.”

“Well, I do see where your coming from, but I’d like to raise another point,” he slipped a hand from his pants and waved it casually while talking, “I will indeed pretend like we are dating even if you don’t.”

“So essentially, you would just be flirting with me while I hurl insults at you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Is that the image you want, Fred?” you teased.

You moved to lean against the wall behind you, and Fred trailed after you.

“Any image is a good one,” he winked dramatically at you.

You shrunk away from him and gagged, sending him into a fit of laughter.

“I hate it already.”

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

You breathed in, looking at him seriously. His hazel eyes were dark in this light, his hair had gone a deeper red in the lack of warm weather and sunshine. He towered over you slightly, and you looked at him through your lashes.

Shrugging your shoulders, you agreed weakly.

Fred saw the error of his thinking almost immediately. Walking through the hallways with you, he felt his heart soar higher and higher each time you laughed. When you would loosen up, or walk a little closer to him. He was being awfully unfair to himself, making himself think that you had something, some sort of relationship. It was like dangling a treat in front of a dog and wanking it away right when the dog drooled.

He saw the flaming house, and still walked in, looking for a place to sleep.

“Why, hello,” Fred drawled, coming up from behind you in the hall.

You felt his hand snake around your waist, and he pulled you. Your feet twisted from under you and you twirled, turning to face him. Your hair had skewed into your face, and he watched your delicate hand reach up to brush it away.

You looked dazed as if you had a lot on your mind. He smiled down at you and you did your best to reciprocate it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, dropping his hand from your hip.

“Yeah, just-” you took a deep breath in, “just got a lot of homework, been a bit busy with my prefect stuff.”

This was not what was bothering you. You felt a lot of inner conflicts these days, an endless moody and angsty monologue sounding off in your head day and night. You felt odd. You felt odd for agreeing to Fred’s stupid plan. You felt odd for toying with him and yourself. You had disliked him just last month, and now you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, let him hold your waist. You felt like a traitor to yourself, letting him win you over with a few charming looks. You felt even worse when you thought of Fred’s confession. He had said he fancied you, and the idea of pretending to date him didn’t alarm you for some reason. You hated the feeling of toying with his emotions or allowing him to live out some sort of fantasy. Everything about it made you feel awful.

You didn’t feel as awful, though, when Fred would call out a comment from across the dining hall that would make your cheeks burn and all the other girls swoon. You didn’t feel as awful when he would sit in silence with you by the black lake, keeping you company among the chilling wind. You didn’t feel as awful when he slipped little notes into your bag when you left Transfiguration.

You had enough, one too many genuine looks of admiration. You needed to tell Fred how you felt.

You caught him on his way back from Quidditch practice. He was trailing near the end of the group, huddled with George and Harry. He had some dirt on his forehead, and his cheeks were tinted pink. He smelled of grass and sweat.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around you, wishing you had brought your scarf. Your hair whipped in the wind around you, and you rocked on your feet.

You began walking to him, and when he saw you he smiled widely.

“Hey!” he called out, walking faster to meet you.

“Hi,” you said nervously.

“I’ll meet you guys back in the common room,” he told George and Harry, who glanced over their shoulders at the two of you.

It was dusk and he looked strikingly handsome. You felt like you were seeing him as a different person. He wasn’t the boy who bewitched snowballs to attack you, he wasn’t the boy who laughed at your scraped hands. He wasn’t the boy who shoved Lee at you, and he wasn’t the boy who awkwardly danced with McGonagall. He was the boy who held you in his arms, stopping you from falling over the stairs. He was the boy who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, he was the boy who held you above anything else.

Your mouth was agape as you looked at him, he stood awkwardly waiting for you to say something. You looked at the ground, licking your lips and feeling them dry as soon as the cold air grazed them again.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly, hoping your voice would fade into the wind and carry you away.

“What’s up?” he looked down at you nervously.

“Fred, I-” he cut you off, placing a hand on your arm.

“You can’t do this anymore?” he looked deeply at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

You didn’t want to have this talk anymore, you felt content, suddenly, in pretending. You could both pretend to love each other until it wasn’t pretending. The lines would blur and soon, his kisses would come easily and his hands would have their place on you. You would touch his soft hair and know his eyes only looked at you. But you had already said the words, or rather, he did.

“I just,” you kicked the dirt beneath you, hoping he would finish your sentence again, he didn’t.

“I don’t think its fair,” you looked up at him finally and felt surprised to feel tears in your eyes, you blinked, forcing them to subside, “to either of us.”

You heard him gulp, and his eyes moved to look at the castle behind you. The candles had been lit and the stone glowed from the inside.

“I get it,” he said, removing his hand from your arm.

You looked down at where his hand had been and felt a tear drip down your cheek.

“Fred-”

He shook his head, pulling his mouth into a line. You stopped talking, feeling the words stuck in your heart.

You really wished you hadn’t said anything. You wished you could pretend again.

He walked past you, leaving you in the dusk. You hadn’t meant to, but a sob escaped your mouth. You heard his feet shuffle for a moment, and stop. He walked back to you.

He had finally been able to fall asleep among the fire, and it seemed you had come to join him at some point. He didn’t know when, but looking at you now, it seemed you had been burning for a while.

“What’s got you so torn up about this?” he said gently, stopping a few paces away from you, “Didn’t fall in love with me, did ya?”

A laugh fell from your lips at the same time another sob did. Your shoulders hunched over more, and Fred’s heart hurt him. He walked to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him, and you both moved at the same time. He pulled you close into his chest and your cheek pressed against him. He smelled, he was dirty, and he was tired, but he still held you tighter than you had ever been held before.

You pulled away from him after a while, coming to terms with yourself in the moment of affection. You wiped your tears from your face with your sleeve, taking a few deep breaths.

“I think,” you hiccuped, feeling it hard to speak, “I think that the pretending was too hard.”

Fred felt guilt wash over him. He felt guilty for himself, because you had said exactly what he was feeling. He couldn’t stand to pretend, to keep himself from gripping your hand, or from kissing you any chance he got. He wanted it all to be real, he wanted this wall between you to crumble into a genuine relationship. He felt guilty for making you feel this way. He felt guilty for pressuring you into this allusion of intimacy. He hadn’t stopped to consider if this would be negative for you, only insisting it would all work out for the best.

As he watched your uneven breathing and swollen nose and eyes, he knew this was not the best.

He breathed hard, forcing himself not to cry as he looked at you. George was supposed to be the sensitive one, but Fred had always been a sympathetic crier.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice sounding far, far away.

You looked at him, feeling terrified. The cold air was moving through you liked you were transparent. Tears kept flowing down your face, and no matter how fast you dried them, you only cried more. Your head felt miles away from your body, so you stepped closer to him, hoping to step closer to yourself too.

“I don’t think I want to pretend,” you croaked out.

He blinked at you, and you saw a single tear fall down his cheek. He didn’t move to brush it away, and it moved slowly. It left a clean mark on his dirt-stained face.

You took a step towards him, covering your hand with your sleeve. You cupped the back of his neck with one hand and brought your sleeved hand to his cheek. You wiped the tear and the dirt away, but your hand didn’t move. You peaked your fingers from your sleeve and they grazed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and your throat tightened as more tears poured from your eyes. Your vision was blurry as you traced his face, moving over his nose, eyebrows, and lips. You stopped to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your palm. You felt the wetness of more tears fall onto your hand, and you bit your lips, holding in a wretched noise.

“Fred?”

His eyes fluttered open, and you realized his hands had found their way onto your waist, he held you tightly.

“Do you want to pretend?” you asked him.

He moved his head from your cheek and kept his wet eyes locked with yours.

“I want you,” his voice was hoarse and sad, but that was all you needed to hear.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

The dusk had turned into the night, and you pulled away from Fred. You looked up at him and swallowed away the tears that remained. You began to walk past him and up to the castle. He followed you quickly.

You were scared. You had safety in pretending, knowing this was all something for fun. But as you looked at Fred now, you saw something deeper. You saw the threat of genuine love and connection, the threat of heartbreak.

Neither of you wanted to go without the other tonight, you had decided. You wordlessly followed him to his common room, and he slipped his hand into yours. You had both ducked into a prefect bathroom on the way there, looking at yourselves and covering your swollen eyes.

He said the password to a portrait of a large lady, and she looked suspiciously at you both.

“Are you two alright? You’ve just about missed curfew,” she said, her voice booming through the staircase.

“Yeah, we’re alright, just tired from practice, is all,” Fred reassured her, and the door swung open. He walked in first, and you followed.

You relished in the warmth of the spacious room, feeling drawn to the fireplace. You walked over to it and sat on a large couch. The room was relatively empty, a few kids hunched over books.

Fred sat next to you, still in his Quidditch robes. He grabbed your legs with his hand and guided them to rest on one of his legs, hanging over it. This angled your body to him, and he moved his arm to wrap around you.

“When did you realize?” he asked, his face lit by the fire.

“Just then, when you walked up to me after your practice.”

His chest moved with a chuckle and you moved your head to looked up at him.

“Well that's a little embarrassing for me,” he said, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face while you gazed up at him, “I've known since I met you.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you said lightly, assuming he was trying to be some sort of romantic and inflating the truth.

“I did,” he said seriously, “I teased you for so long for a reason.”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed, pulling each other closer.

“And because I liked you.”

You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into him. You felt yourself getting tired and you peered up at him. His eyes were half-closed and his face was drooping.

“Fred, you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed,” you began to move off of him, but he pulled you back.

“Only if you make me a deal,” he said mischievously.

“What?”

“I’ll go upstairs and take a quick shower, but only if you come with me,” he replied.

“I am not showering with you, pervert,” you smacked his arm and stood from the couch, blushing furiously.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, turning it to kiss your palm. You shivered at his touch.

“No, just come lay with me,” he looked up at you, suddenly serious, “I want to be with you tonight.”

Your heart sank to your stomach and you bit your lip. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded your head slowly.

Fred fished his wand from his robes and waved it towards the stairs, performing the counterspell for the stairs. You followed him up to his room, where he put his finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. When he cracked open the door, it was dark and the curtains for the beds had been drawn. He crept over to a chest at the foot of his bed and looked at you before turning to its contents. He pulled out two large pajama pants, both plaid, and two heavy sweaters. He tossed one of each on his bed and took the others with him.

“Here, you can sleep in these,” he whispered to you, and it felt like you would blush forever.

He smiled softly at you before closing the curtains for you, leaving you to change.

“Oi, mate,” you heard someone’s annoyed and hoarse voice, “what took you so long? Practice ended an hour ago.”

“I was talking with Y/n,” you heard the bathroom door open, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I’m gonna shower. And don’t wake me up for breakfast tomorrow, I want to sleep in.”

You smiled to yourself, holding the soft sweater in your hands. It had a large ‘F’ on it, and you traced your fingers over it. You slid out of your jeans and folded them, placing them on the floor by the trunk. You slid on the pants he gave you and silently laughed as they easily ran past your feet and dragged on the floor. You folded them at the waist, and they were still too long. You had just slipped on the sweater when Fred slid open the curtain. He watched you fold your shirt and place it with your jeans. His eyes trailed from his sweater to the way his pants covered your feet. He smiled widely and drew you closer to him by grabbing your hips.

You looked up at him, your chests pressed together. He brought one hand up to your jaw, tilting it up to align with his face. His lips parted and so did yours, the air between you becoming a mixture of your breaths. His was minty, he must have just brushed his teeth.

His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and he finally closed the space between you. His neck craned down to you, but when you stood on your toes he was able to stand straight. You pressed as close to him as you could, and so did he. His lips were warm against your cold ones. He felt the many places that had been chapped and bitten, running his tongue over them slowly. You sighed and ran your chilled hands up his sweater, feeling him shiver beneath you. Your fingertips grazed the muscles on his back, tracing every line you could feel.

You pulled away first, sinking down to stand flat on your feet and rest your forehead on his chest.

“I’m so glad we didn’t pretend to do that,” Fred laughed out, pulling you close to him.

You smiled and hugged him, before moving to the other side of the small bed. You both slid under the covers silently, thinking that if either of you said something, things would suddenly be awkward.

The lack of bed only made him hold you tighter, and the two of you fell asleep relatively soon.

You were awoken by the sounds of laughter. The curtains were still drawn, and Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you. Your leg was resting on him as he laid on his back, hugging you close to him. Your head lifted from his chest as you squinted your eyes.

“No, he said he wanted to sleep in, mate,” you heard George say. The door opened and you heard footsteps walking towards it.

“You think they finally told each other?” Lee asked George, pulling on a wool hat.

“I hope so, bloody awful letting Fred think he tricked us,” George said before closing the door behind them.

You smiled and let your head sink back onto Fred. He stirred and pulled you closer to him. Through the fabric of his sweater, you swore you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.

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