#so technically she is more than the help but i love her

[millersfinest]

WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE | 1

ELLIE WILLIAMS, YELLOWJACKETS AU, SERIES!

SERIES MASTERLIST

001 — When You’re Gone wc: 14.4k

chapter blurb: the struggles of a soon-to-be high school graduate was rough—leaving home, leaving the girl you love behind knowing you weren’t strong enough to love her aloud; it was fear inducing. however, not as fear inducing as the sounds of a plane breaking down while in the air with you and everyone you care about inside of it. now, that was bone chilling! it’s the beginning of many, many, many nightmares to come.

cw: use of the word ‘dyke’, r and ellie being teenage lover girls, closeted abby, dramatic teenage girls, reader is working on her internalized homophobia, sarah miller, ellie being the best non-girlfriend ever, mention of a teacher/student relationship, plane crash, character deaths, reader lowkey has main-character syndrome, ellie/abby beef, reader calls her dad ‘daddy’ because she’s southern-ish (because it’s the midwest technically), 90’s accurate alcohol, little bit of r and ellie angst.

note: omg this is the first chapter in the summer act! by the time you guys see this, all of the parts for this act should be finished and queued for weekly releases (if i hold myself accountable)(i didn't but i refuse to sit on this). after i watched yellowjackets i immediately thought about ellie for obvious reasons. happy valentine’s day and happy yellowjackets s3 premiere day hehehe. hope you guys enjoy!! (if you wanna be added to the taglist, pls feel free to fill out this taglist form) also... if you see a typo, no you didn't!

The woody smell of a forest was never a comfort for you; however it wasn’t a disrupter either. Like most people, you loved the smell of flowers, fresh plants, the aroma, and texture of fresh soil—but you didn’t care for it enough to linger within it. Haunt the spaces between the tree, to feel a sense of connection to the Earth. That wasn’t the type of person you were. It didn’t mean that much to you. Although, you signed many petitions to save the trees. Save the wilderness. She had a right to be preserved.

The layered sounds of cheering echoed through the gymnasium as you and your team ran in a line toward the middle of the court. Grins adorned your faces, waving and pumping up the crowd like you were used to. Cameras flashed from the sidelines, snapping pictures of the celebration of Jackson Hole High’s victory. The Fireflies have been invited to Boston to participate in a national championship.

You’re fucking going to nationals in Boston!

Nearing the end of your senior year, with college looming at your door, it felt good that you could have one last hurrah with your favorite girls—loosely including the junior varsity players who were waiting for your dismissal so they could move up.

Loving every member of the team was hard, but you truly did; they were your sisters. Minus one faithful central striker who stood before you on the field. It would be weird to call her your sister since you’ve been sucking each other’s faces off since sophomore year.

The both of you may have been an okay pair off the field, but on the field… You were perfectly unstoppable! She was fast, while you were tactful. Even though, you were surrounded by supportive players who were eager to make a goal—a lot of times, it felt as though it were just the two of you.

You couldn’t help but be a romantic when it came to her. She was always determined to put on a show—a good show, at that. The eighteen-year-old had a reputation to uphold: mean, small town lesbian. But she was so much more than that. Under the many course layers of being a skillful forwarder, a notable lover of female company, and totally hot; she also respected the bounds of science, had an obsessive amount of Savage Starlight memorabilia, and has the intention of becoming an astrophysicist in the future. She wanted to become a scientist for the sake of the game, not to make a shit ton of money.

However, despite all of this good, there was a minor wooden hedge that kept the two of you at an arms length distance from each other.

And here’s the real kicker… You’re not one hundred percent out to the public about your sexuality. Therefore, in the past three years you’ve been sharing with this beloved girl, it’s all been experienced under pressured wraps. You didn’t necessarily hide your attraction from women—you just hated feeling other in your hometown. While you were cocky about your soccer skills, you didn’t harbor that same meanness to protect yourself when it came to who you romanticized.

Jackson Hole, or Jackson, was a town that was surrounded by elements of the Earth—right beside Yellowstone Park—there were so many other things to talk about than the fact that you were a lesbian. But that just wasn’t how small towns worked. Perhaps, it was a born and bred thing. Whenever you were born or bred into a small town, you activate this gene that forces you to be interested in everyone’s lives but your own. People from your town loved a spectacle.

And to be fair, hanging out with Ellie Williams was spectacle enough.

There were rumors that the two of you were gay for each other—that you were hooking up in hidden places. You never confirmed or denied whenever you were boldly asked. Unless your parents were pressing you about being out so late. Those claims were dead on, though!

Now, your parents were in on the whole thing, and they loved her. They were so supportive of the relationship that you sometimes thought they loved her more than you. She was labeled spunky in their eyes.

But, with all this considered, she wasn’t your girlfriend. She was just a girl that happened to be yours; someone you kept all for yourself. And Ellie being Ellie, didn’t always appreciate that phrase. It wasn’t until this year that she became indifferent to it.

“Let’s congratulate our varsity Fireflies for being chosen for nationals!” The principal of the student body praised over the choppy, cracking microphone. He had called your names out one by one, getting you onto that shiny, scuffed basketball court. Coach Tess Servopoulos stood at the head of the line, while the assistant coach, Owen Moore, stood at the other end. Accompanied by the soccer manager, Mel Teagan.

The pep rally was fast, and you were standing around the quad before you knew it, discussing a course of action for a junior varsity player who was good but not great. She lagged during games whenever she was brought on as a substitute—failing to take initiative to score. Since tomorrow was the morning that you were leaving for Boston, Coach Moore decided on throwing a scrimmage between varsity and junior varsity as a fun arrangement. However, some of the girls found this to be a moment of opportunity.

“I think we should push Lucy a little bit…” The auburn-haired player suggested, crossing her arms over her chest. Surrounded by her trusty friend group: you, Riley, Dina, and Cat.

You bunch your eyebrows, glancing at the other girls. “What do you mean by push ‘er?”

“I don’t know, make her actually work for her position.” Ellie responded, shrugging her shoulders. They all just looked at her, waiting for her to further explain. “If she’s coming with us to Boston as a substitute, she needs to work harder than just kicking a fucking ball around.”

“And she barely even does that…” Riley added, snickering, letting her eyes wander around the quad.

Cat put her hands on her hips, rocking on her feet. “If this includes physically pushing her, then I’m out.”

Ellie shook her head, holding out her hand. “Nah, that’s my job if it comes down to it.”

Dina deepened her eyebrows, squeezing her eyes shut. “So, what are we gonna do? Ice her out the whole game?”

“Yeah,” She nodded. “Only pass the ball to each other— everyone on the team except for her. Maybe it’ll finally get her to fight for a score.”

You puffed air from you lips in thought, glancing over your shoulder, uneasy. As captain of the team—yeah, you were team captain—it wasn’t ideal that you were plotting against your own. Although, she was junior varsity, it didn’t change the fact that she was a Firefly. You just wished that Lucinda Henderson did more for her team—she needs to learn to play aggressively not passively. That’s how you score. That’s how you win.

A sigh flees your mouth, peering at the central striker with narrowed eyes. “If you’re gonna push her, do it safely… I cannot afford to have a hurt freshman on my conscious.” You tiredly spoke, preparing to walk away, but Ellie grabbed your hand before you could leave the small huddle.

“Seriously, what do you think I’m capable of?”

You placed your hand over hers, squeezing, gently. “You’re different on the field… Just remember that, okay?” Sliding your hand from hers, you glance to the other girls. “I have to go run a few things over with Abby. See you in a few.”

Ellie scoffed as you trotted away, seeing your goalie talking on a bench with some bashful cheerleader. “Hey, Abs, can we talk for a sec?” You question, not giving her much of a choice by walking past the bench she was sat on, perching yourself beside a tree.

From a distance, you could feel the eyes of your undercover lover watching you from her spot. Her lips moved, still engaging in conversation about Lucy Henderson, probably, but her olive eyes remained on you. Whenever you had these sidebars with Abby, she tensed. Ellie rarely talks about why Abby gets under her skin so easily—you wondered if it was intimidation, or worse, jealousy.

Abby rolled her eyes, muttering a quick farewell to the cheerleader. “What now?” She perked an eyebrow, crossing her muscular arms.

“Don’t what now me. You think I didn’t notice those eyes you were giving to the coach?” You prodded, authoritatively. “What did I say about him— fucking drop him!”

The blonde groaned like a stubborn child. “Can’t you just mind your business, Turner?” Abby retorted. “I get that you’re captain an’ everything, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to poke your nose in things that don’t involve you.”

“You know, this is a crime, right? Statutory rape—“

“Ugh, you’re always so serious. I’m eighteen.”

“Yeah, but you’re still a student here, and he’s an instructor.” You placed your hands on your hips. “Do you wanna be on the front-page paper listed as a victim? I wonder what that would look like when you’re playing pro in a few years…”

A sneer stretched onto her lips. “Couldn’t be as bad as being called a dyke by ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the population.”

“Says the two-hundred-pound, six-foot goalie who was just flirting with Calliope Kimber…”

She stiffened, averting her eyes from you. “I wasn’t flirting…”

You chuckled behind your fingers, sizing her up. “You totally were.” With a perched eyebrow, you analyzed her features. Blue eyes shifting, twinged with bothered nerves at the mention of her behavior. “I don’t care if you’re using a man to hide behind, Abby. But I do care about the legacy of our team.” You began, nudging her arm. “Plus, Coach Moore is annoying as shit. If I were you, Henry Harmon would be more of my shtick.”

Abby shook her head, her long braid falling over her shoulder. “You’re such a control freak…” She muttered, sucking her teeth.

“Or I’m just a very passionate person.”

“Nope… You’re a control freak.”

“Okay, whatever, Popeye. God.” You hold up a dismissive hand.

The both of you walk around the school to the soccer field to prep for the scrimmage Coach Moore was hosting. You sat on the ground stretching and ensuring your laces were tight and knotted. Some of the junior varsity team sat around doing the same thing, conversing amongst each other.

Ellie, Riley, Dina and Cat joined the group as if they had something up their sleeve—not paying much of attention to the young coach marking on a clipboard. The auburn-haired player plopped herself beside you. Like usual, you adjusted yourself to do an assisted stretch with her, touching your straddled feet together and pulling each other’s hands like a seesaw. “How different am I on the field— what did you mean by that?” She asked, pulling you forward, causing her to lean backwards.

“Uhm, Ellie, you’re a threat on the field to anyone who isn’t on your team.” You pulled her forward, causing you to lean back, smiling in amusement.

“I’m not a threat, just a girl who takes her sport very seriously.” She shrugged, pulling you forward again.

You laugh, pulling her forward, but this time inching your hands up her arms so you wouldn’t lean back so far from her. “No, babe, you’re definitely a threat. But… I like that about you.” You bat your eyes at her, playfully.   

She smirked, glancing down at your lips in such an obvious way. A way that you couldn’t give much attention to—at least, not in the way you wanted. “Well, then… I guess I’m the worst of threats— the most threatening girl in the world.”

You snickered, sliding your hands back down to her hands. You pushed your legs together to do the same thing, back and forth. “Be whoever you wanna be.”

To be honest, you’d probably love her regardless of anything. She was so admirable to you—her boldness in her identity; God, Ellie was such a dream. If only she knew how much she meant to you.

“All right, I’m gonna break ya’ll up— some of varsity will be playing with jv, some of jv with varsity.” The assistant coach announced, with the sport manager standing right beside him, eagerly. Upon his immediate direction, the girls groaned—mainly, the older varsity team. Not caring for their younger peers or their feelings. “Don’t complain. It’s Coach Servopoulos’ choice!”

The choice to split them up made Ellie’s plan a bit difficult to carry out, especially if the group wasn’t split up on Lucy’s team. Coach Moore began to list out the names, the manager handing out jerseys to the ones he called. Luckily, Ellie and Dina were put on the same team as Lazy Lucy, while you and Cat were placed on the opposing team. Separated by your team with an orange jersey, and her team having a blue one.

Before the scrimmage began, you pulled Ellie aside. “Remember this is an opportunity to teach someone, not to hurt someone. Be careful out there.”

“I’m not a fucking child, y/n. I know how to be careful.” She responded, curtly, walking to her place across from you at the starting zone. You rolled your eyes, gritting your jaw in irritation. You were told to play central striker for your team, which meant that you and Ellie looked right into each other’s’ eyes before the match. Through a heavy glare, you attempt to remind her once more, but she ignores your gaze.

When the whistle blared, the game began, brutally. After all, that’s how the both of you played—even against each other. Unfortunately, her team had more varsity members, meaning you and three other people had to carry the burden of keeping your team afloat.

There was a moment where the ball was sequestered between your feet, and you were moving toward the goal with quickness. That wasn’t until Riley swiped the ball from your feet with a giggle, muttering a small apology. While you tried to get the ball back, you watched as Riley and Ellie shifted ownership of it. Obviously, excluding the calls for a pass from the copper-headed player, Lucy.

Instead of asking, Lucinda grumbled, running toward Riley to steal the ball, heading straight for your goal. You slowed down, getting the intuitive feeling that something was about to go wrong. Even Cat paused on the field, glancing at you with concerned eyes. Ellie cast her eyes toward Riley, huffing from her lips. And, just like that, she made an effort to steal the ball from Lucy—getting overwhelmed by her competitiveness.

Her cleats made a move for the patterned ball, but instead of kicking it forward, the steel of the tip of her shoe made a collision with Lucy’s fibula. A crack sound echoed over the field, followed by a shriek expelling from the girl. Lucinda dropped to the ground cradling her calf with horror.

Ellie stopped, emitting a gasp. She gripped the roots of her hair, noticing the image of her bone sticking through her skin. It was surrounded by oxidized blood, dripping all over the freshly painted turf. Briefly, you froze. Eyes widening at the scene. “Fuck,” You grimaced, sprinting over to the area, along with everyone else.

You glared at auburn-haired player, kneeling to try and help the girl, pulling her head onto your lap. “Fuck, it’s going to be okay, Luce.” You looked around for the adult authority. “Coach Moore!” You called, worriedly, trying to avoid looking at the appearance of the injured girls leg. Every time you looked at it, the image of her exposed bone caused bile to rise in your throat.

He was already in transit, with a look of weariness, running over with his hands on his head. “Shit! Mel, go to the office and tell Tess, so we get can 911 on the phone.” Coach Moore directed to the short-haired manager, clutching onto a plastic first aid kit.

“You mean Coach Servopoulos?” She raised a finger.

“Fucking obviously, Mel!” The blonde goalie told, crouching toward the sobbing freshman. The manager jumped into a sprint, running toward the building while Abby darted her eyes over the brutal injury. Her father was a surgeon, and she had always been really curious about his job. He was wildly busy, but on the weekends, when he was on-call, he’d take her with him. There was a surgery gallery above one of the operation rooms, and he snuck her in a few times. Blood never bothered her as much as it bothered others.

Coach Moore forced the girls that weren’t helping to head inside to the locker room and wait for an update, because practice was now over.

The ambulance came in due time for her to get the medical attention that she needed. Lucy winced and whined as they lifted her onto a gurney, loading her into the back of the loud ambulance truck. Abby and Nora stayed behind with you as you monitored the situation. You couldn’t help but feel at fault for this—you should’ve just told Ellie no.

“Is your girlfriend tapped?” Nora questioned, while the three of you watched the coaches tell the EMT’s what happened, even though they didn’t know much. All they knew was that a player accidentally kicked her fibula through her leg in an attempt to kick the ball.

“Nora!” You scolded, glaring at her. Partially, for outright blaming Ellie for her actions, but also for labeling her your girlfriend aloud. That part was debatable. While you were warming up to the idea, a part of you felt like you didn’t deserve that title.

Abby chortled, “It’s a valid point.” Shrugging with her arms crossed over her chest. “I watched her ice Lucy out the whole game, y/n. When she finally had it, Ellie tried to steal it from her— her own teammate. What the hell was she doing?”

You shook your head, puffing air from your lips. “Lucy played a little lazy, so she was trying to… Teach her a lesson.”

The curly-haired, right-wing central striker scoffed, fixing a pair of disappointed eyes at you. “And you let her? Some kind of captain you are.”

“Hey, I told her to be careful.”

“You should’ve told her not to do it. Now, we’re short one sub for nationals. So, thanks a lot.” Nora concluded, turning her back on you to walk toward the locker room, leaving you with the disapproving sighs of Abigail Anderson.

The both of you watched the assistant coach hop into the vehicle with Lucy, since her parents where meeting them at the hospital. Coach Servopoulos instructed that he did so—he didn’t decide to join the injured teenager on his own accord. “She took it too far…” Abby sighed, as the head coach approached the two of you with a grimace on her features.

“It was an accident, Abby. Ellie didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“You saw what her leg looked like… I find that hard to believe.” The blonde goalie frowned, walking away once Tess Servopoulos got closer, glaring at you. Like you mentioned to Ellie, sometimes she got carried away during games; she wasn’t her usual self. As in, her competitiveness gets the best of her at times. It skews her vision and makes her decide on the most aggressive courses of action, which aren’t always the best. There has been a few games where they consistently got penalties because of her rough housing.

“Turner, what the hell happened out there?” Coach Servopoulos questioned with a firm voice, running her fingers through her mousy-brown hair.  

You slumped your shoulders, rubbing your hand over your pulled back hair. “I don’t know…” You lied through your teeth, sighing. The idea of snitching on Ellie wasn’t option. She’d get benched, or worse, kicked off the team. Tess Servopoulos wasn’t a coach that just let things slide; so, there was going to be hell to pay.  

She raised her thin eyebrows at you, dryly chuckling. “Her fibula is sticking out of her leg, and you’re tellin’ me you don’t know?”

“It happened so fast, Coach. Too fast. I think it was just a misstep.” You told with layers of uncertainty.

She sighed, pressing her lips together. “This misstep just sent a fifteen-year-old to the emergency room… Now, this isn’t the first time Ellie—”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You tried, fiddling with your fingers.

Tess side-eyed you before speaking, walking toward the school building. “This isn’t the first time Ellie has been rough on the field, but it’s the first time it’s resulted in something this severe—which leads me to this… In Boston, if she as so much as shoves another player too hard, she’s getting benched. Do you hear me?” The older woman raises an eyebrow, peering down at you. A frown fell onto your lips as you casted your eyes at your moving feet.

“I hear you.” You replied, solemnly.

“I have a lot of paperwork to fill out, so… Do me a favor and let her know that. I’m not gonna care for her attitude in Boston if you forget to tell her. I’m just gonna look at you.” Coach Servopoulos told as you neared the school, entering on the athletics side, leading you to the locker room. You were absolutely dejected, feeling waves a guilt that you shouldn’t have. The image of Lucy’s leg couldn’t leave your mind, making your stomach to stir. On top of the responsibility of, basically, threatening your companion.

When you entered the locker room, the team was sat on benches tiredly, awaiting the verdict that you were looked upon to deliver. They all sat upright when they noticed you strolling in after the fuming head coach who had seemed to already reach her maximum level of stress. “What’s up? Is she gonna be okay?” Ellie was the first ask, standing to her feet from the bench, her features scrunched with worry.

“Well, I’m sure she’s getting pumped with fentanyl as we speak, so… I think she’s gonna be all right.” Tiredly, your hands fall against your thighs, passing her to walk to your locker. A frown pressed onto your features because of the nausea building in your throat.

Abby sighed, leaning her arms to the side on bench. “If only you didn’t wanna teach her a lesson…” She muttered, causing Ellie to shoot her a glare.

“What?” She snarled.

“Was that not your plan? Maybe y/n relayed it wrong tryin’ to save your ass.” Abby exposed, but you ignored her trying to focus on not throwing up, rummaging through your locker.

Riley stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. “How ‘bout you just mind your fuckin’ business, Anderson.”

The blonde snickered. “Yeah, you were probably behind it, too, huh? Best friends until the end—“

The feeling of bile rising in your throat caused you to drop the lock in your hands. It clambered to the floor, shutting them up mid-argument. “Fuck, I’m gonna vomit.” You covered your mouth with your hand, running to the nearest trashcan you could find. It was large, and thankfully, without any trash inside of it. You gripped the rim that was wrapped with a black trash bag, leaning your face over it to relieve yourself.

“Now, look what you made her do!” You heard the sound of Ellie’s voice.

You lurched, groaning at the uncomfortableness of unleashing your breakfast and lunch into the trash covered in stomach acid. You felt hands on your back, rubbing, softly. When you peered over your shoulder, you noticed the dark, wavy hair of Dina standing over you. “Made me barf, too.” She kindly smiled, patting your back.

When you finished, you wiped your mouth with your shirt. “Should’ve never agreed to that shit…” You murmured, shaking your head.

“Maybe it’s for the best that she doesn’t come to Boston with us, anyway. There’s an upside to everything!”

“Whatever, Dina.” You sighed, thanking her with a pat to her shoulder.

She mirrored your sigh, following you to the group, getting close to you. “This isn’t your fault, you know?” Dina starts, as you ignore the tension in the air while your teammates changed. Ellie had walked to the other side of the locker room to hide from everyone, probably drowning in that same level of guilt you were. The dark-haired girl leaned her shoulder against the cool, gray metal.

“Then, who’s is it? Throwing Ellie under the bus, would mean throwing myself under it, too. I might as well just do it alone.” You grumble, beginning to pull the athletic clothes from your body.

After you changed into your casual clothes, a pair of jeans, blocky sandals, and a printed tube top. A thin, knit cardigan covered your arms during school, but the final bell had rung a long time ago. Ellie had always been your ride home, so you found her waiting in the quad for you on a bench—lonely, with a pair of headphones covering her ears. They were connected to an old Walkman you gifted her some time ago.

You waved a hand at her as you approached. She slid the tiny headphones from her ears to hang around her neck. She stood up, slinging her school bag and duffle bag over her shoulder. “Hey…” Ellie greeted, timidly.

“Hey,” You smiled, watching how she adjusted herself. You adjusted the thick strap of your own duffle bag, examining her freckled features. “What a day, huh?”

“Yeah…” She started walking toward her truck, pulling her keys from her pockets. Now, would be the best time to tell her of the limited amount of fuck-ups she had left, but the words wouldn’t come out. You followed her, swinging each foot in front of the other. “You were right… I shouldn’t have pushed her… I fucked up so bad today.” Ellie shook her head, running a hand through her shaggy, short hair.

You shrug, pressing your glossy lips together. “It happens…”

“I shouldn’t have let you take the fall for it.” She takes your hand, as you walk toward the emptying parking lot. You glance at the desperate hand, grasping for consolation and understanding.

In return, you grip her to reassure her. “You’re lucky Coach Serv didn’t ask too many questions— I barely took the fall for anything.” You lean into her arm, holding her bicep with your other free hand. “She probably has loads of paperwork to fill out since it happened on the school’s property. I think she has bigger concerns, right now.”

When you arrived at her blue Ford Bronco, you trot to the passenger side. “But I don’t mind taking the fall for it. I wouldn’t wanna go on this trip if you weren’t going, too.” Ellie grinned, watching you toss your things into the back seat.

The both of you got into the truck, shutting the door at the same time. The auburn-haired girl started the engine, causing the radio to switch on. Her earthy irises looked over at you, with a gleam of adoration. You smiled, cheeks warming under her gaze. A giggle leaves your throat as you lean over the center console, pulling the fabric of her shirt towards you so you could plot your lips against hers. Her windows weren’t that tinted, but you didn’t care in that moment.

Kisses always heightened Ellie’s mood, and you didn’t want her to worry about what happened with Lucy anymore. It was nothing but a mere accident—she would never want to hurt anyone.

You pulled away from her lips, not before plotting one final chaste kiss, leaning back into your seat. “Are we going to your place or mine?” You reached over to stretch the seatbelt across your body.

“Do you have everything you need for the party later?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“My place it is then.”

As we die, both you and I with my head in my hands I sit and cry…

No Doubt played on the radio, distracting you from the minor, small town traffic that got on under your skin—even though, you weren’t the one driving. You leaned your head on your fist, watching Ellie from the side of your eye. Her window was wound all the way down, elbow resting on it while her other steered the wheel. Her shaggy, auburn hair was blown across her head from the intensity of the wind. But she didn’t care, and neither did you. Her thumb tapped along the leather steering wheel to the beat of the music, nodding her head, rhythmically.

God, you were so in love with her. You were going to miss the days driving down the skinny roads of your hometown with her manning the wheel—because you rarely drove when she was around.

There was a secret that you were keeping tightly under wraps, though—amongst that love. Away from her, and the rest of the team. The joys of traveling to Boston with your team, and your non-girlfriend, is that it’s like a final hurrah before you all graduate and go your separate ways.

A few weeks ago, you received a letter from the admission’s office at University of Notre Dame for their soccer and Literature program—you got in! To your knowledge, Ellie had already committed to Massachusetts Institute of Technology. There was a family friend that lived in the area, which made her feel comfortable with moving so far away. Once you tell her about your commit to Notre Dame, everything will be set in stone; that the both of you were moving on. Everything would be too real—too fast. You were really leaving each other.

That was a topic you always found a way to jump around. At the end of the day, she wasn’t really your girlfriend. The pair of you had been in his happy mix of a relationship and a friendship—calling each other friends but doing the things that people in relationships did for a few years now. It kept too many people from asking you questions you didn’t feel enough conviction to answer. But that left you in a vulnerable position.

Once she sets foot up North, girls will be all over her as if she were a walking aphrodisiac. The prefect blend of masculinity and femininity relied in her spirit. She’d be the apple of any woman’s eye—well, any woman in their right mind—if she does half of what she does for you. Perhaps, one day you’ll rack up the courage to claim her, loudly.

She pulls into the driveway of her two-storied, brick home, sighing, casually. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Sarah’s back early from school for my graduation. I’m gonna try and get her to be our ride for tonight.” Ellie shuts off the engining, gripping the handle to open up the door.

“Ellie, you know she’s gonna say no. If you wanna drink tonight, I can take one for the team…”

“I want us both to be able to celebrate, and after today, we both deserve a drink. Plus, she owes me.” She shrugged, grabbing her bags from the backseat, and you doing the same.

You chortle, walking around the to truck, to her side. “A drink won’t kill me.”

She looks at you, adjusting the straps on her shoulders. “Okay, you hate driving. Why do you wanna be DD so bad?” Ellie passed you, walking toward her front door. The sound of you giggling, trailing behind her.

“I’m just making sure we have options. Did she drive, this time, from Washington?”

The auburn-haired nodded, unlocking the door and pushing inside. “No, she took a flight. So, she shouldn’t have a problem borrowing Maxie” She referenced the dull, blue Bronco that she trusted with her life.

Ellie’s adoptive sister was a second year at the University of Washington. Every summer she comes back home to be with her family because dorm-life called the shots.

You walked inside behind her, passing the kitchen to get to the pair wooden stairs that led to her bedroom. “I’m home!” Ellie called, walking toward the fridge with you lingering behind her. “Sarah!” She offered you a cold bottle of water, handing it to you as she awaited her sisters’ response.

“Up here!” Her sister responded from up the stairs.

You trailed after your lover, trotting up the wooden steps to follow Sarah’s smooth voice. There was a light echo of The Cranberries, When You’re Gone, playing on the radio, coming from her bedroom. She must’ve been playing the new album. Ellie peeked into her bright space, placing her eyes on her laying figure, doodling in an artbook. Her pale, blue eyes looked up from the coarse page, twirling her charcoal pencil in her left hand. “Dad’s gonna be workin’ late tonight. So, I might be the one dropping you off tomorrow. Hope that’s all right.” Sarah hit the eraser of her pencil against the page, looking up at her sister leaning on the threshold of her bedroom door. Before she had shipped off to Washington, there used to be a thick southern twang that caught the attention of many Jacksoner’s. Sarah replicated the vocal inflections of her father—and Ellie’s voice did the same occasionally. She glanced at you, wiggling her fingers as a greeting.

You smiled, waving your hand.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. Also… Could you do me a favor?”

She rolls her eyes, pushing her stuff aside to adjust herself onto her butt, narrowing her eyes at Ellie. “y/n and I are going to this party tonight, and we wanna drink— safely, so… Could you drive us?”

Sarah sighed, hopping from her bed to turn her silver-gray radio down, twisting the knobs with her index and thumb, plum nail polish artistically chipped. “I thought you had friends, Els… With cars.”

Ellie chuckled, dryly. “I do, but I don’t trust them to drive us back sober.” She rocked on her feet, furrowing her eyebrows to show humility. “C’mon, Sare, you owe me.”

She raised a blonde eyebrow, crossing her arms. “I owe you? From what?” Sarah dubiously asked.

“That one time sophomore year when I lied to Joel about where you were— saying you were at Natalie’s house, when you really were at Cole Matthew’s playing horizontal Twister.” Ellie blinked, feigning innocence. “If you don’t take us… I don’t mind clearing that up with him when I get back from Boston.”

The college girl gasped, then shook her head in disbelief. “Teenagers are evil. Wow.”

“You just turned twenty in April…” Ellie deadpanned.

“Fine. I guess I’ll take you, but I’m picking you up no later than one.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, lips curling at the edges. “Whatever,” She pivoted, taking your hand. “Thanks.” Her eyes glanced at you over her shoulder as she led you a few paces down the hall to her bedroom.

You shut the door behind you, snickering to yourself at the little threat she made to her sister. “You’re a manipulator…” You mutter, dropping your bag near the door. Her room was comfortably dim, with a dark, earthy motif. While her walls were still a white-ish tone of beige, its starkness was diminished by the many posters layered over each other. There was a slight lack of orderliness to her bedroom—a touch of clutter, making it all the more comforting.

Immediately, Ellie walked to her closet to change into some comfortable clothes. She dropped her jeans, sliding on a pair plaid boxers and a t-shirt. “Sometimes you need to do a little manipulating to get the job done.” She shrugged, humorously. “Sarah’s been trying to live down Cole Matthew’s since they hooked up her senior year— it was an easy shot.”

The softness of her made bed called out to you, making you leap onto it after kicking off your sandals. You rolled onto your back, sprawling out over her mattress. “I don’t think Dr. Daniela Star would approve of this.” You sit up on your elbows, ogling her from the center of her bed, referencing the protagonist from her favorite comic. Ellie turned to look at you, lips curling into a boyish smirk.

She sauntered toward you, crawling onto the mattress, over you, settling between your legs. You drape your arms around her shoulders, looking up at her with gleaming irises, examining her round features—olive, doe eyes, sprinkled freckles over her cheeks and nose, plush lips exposing her straight teeth. “What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.” Ellie grins, pressing her body against yours as she leaned down to plot her lips on yours. Smooch. Smooch. Before she begins to devour your face like it was the last time.

She braced one elbow by the side of your face, using the other hand to drift down your body, gripping and groping in ways you’d ever allow her to do. You giggled against her lips, completely comfortable under her devoted and doting caress. You were going to miss this most of all—the intimacy of her touch.

So, you spent the time before the party, memorizing every crevice of her body. From the follicles of her auburn hair to the birthmark on her ankle, breathing her in like your own addictive brand of oxygen. After you indulged in each other for a few hours, she pulled out guitar and played for you. Sat by her desk, facing you as you watched her fingers press along the copper strings of her acoustic guitar.

When it was time to get ready for the party, Ellie didn’t do much but throw on an outfit that appeared to have come straight from a Delia’s catalog. You had packed a boxy corduroy mini-dress and a pair of converses that matched hers; they were just a smidge cleaner, though. While you primped and primed yourself, you managed to convince her to smudge some eyeliner around her eyes—it brings out green in your eyes, you say; after propping yourself on her bathroom counter, welcoming her between your legs to add charcoal eyeliner around her eyes.

Ellie then peered in the mirror, over your shoulder, cheeks warming up at her own reflection. She wasn’t a typical wearer of makeup, but whenever she did partake, you noticed her expression of elevation. If it was small, and dainty, she never minded adding to her appearance with a little bit of makeup. However, she only did so when you applied it for her.  

You left the house borderline fashionably late, with Sarah swinging Ellie’s keys around her index finger. She hopped into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and seat to accommodate to her style of driving. Ellie had to push her seat forward to allow you climb into the backseat. The blonde took her time, causing her sister to side-eye her, pointedly. “Sarah, you are killin’ me.” Ellie spoke, holding out an annoyed hand.

“You asked me to drive you, and you’re complaining? I got a hundred on my driver’s test for a reason—”

“Nobody cares. Please, just drive, dude.”

She pressed her lips into a line, shifting the gear to backing out of the inclined driveway. “Ellie, you just get bitchier with time.” You snickered in the back, pulling your seatbelt over your body, clicking it into the lock. As she started down the road, she peered into the rearview, getting a glimpse of you while her lips percolated to speak. “So, y/n, have you committed to a school yet? I know time’s just a’tickin’…” Sarah offered conversation, smiling in the small mirror. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the rigidness in Ellie’s shoulders at the mention of university.

Ellie nudged her over the console, scoffing. “No pressure…” She filled in, giving you comforting glance.

“I haven’t yet… I’m waiting until after nationals… I don’t want my decision to be heavily influenced by anything, you know?” You slowly explain, looking at the blonde through the mirror.

Sarah glanced at Ellie, making a face you couldn’t quite read. “Yeah, for sure.” She responded, chuckling, lightly. “I forget— what are you going to school for? I know Ellie’s doin’ Biophysics. She’s going full astronaut on us!” She playfully punched Ellie’s arm, laughing, joyously. Clearly, already proud of her.  

You lick the cherry gloss on your lips, priming them to speak. “I’m going for Literature. I used to want to be a professor, and I might still go down that route, but I think I’m going to take soccer serious for a little while.”

“She wants to go pro.” Ellie added, winking over her shoulder at you.

“Hopefully, I can qualify for the Olympics within the next two years.” You shrug, nodding your head, timidly. It was always hard to tell people what you wanted for your future—especially, when your goals seemed so far away. It was always fifty-fifty when sports players wanted to go pro—hit or miss! That’s why you wanted to get you degree; so, it could seem more realistic.

The eldest in the truck, hummed. “I’ve seen you play. I’m sure you could qualify now.” Sarah laughed. “Who do I have to call to make it happen?”

“Oh, my God! You sound just like Joel!” The auburn-haired player gasped, chortling in her seat. The two siblings then began conversing between themselves, asking for your input every so often.

In the dark, she pulled into a clearing that was already lingering with drinking teenagers. She sighed, putting the car in park. ��I swear this is like the beginning of a slasher film— you guys be safe!” Sarah told, leaning down as the both of you exited the car. For a moment, you had to wait for Ellie to release the passenger seat, so you could climb out the same way you climbed in. “And cover your drinks… There’s some odd-lookin’ character’s out here.” Ellie gave her thumbs up, attempting to shut the door, but her sister had to say one more thing. The blonde snickered behind her slender fingers before speaking. “I was also gonna say wrap it up, but… You know—”

Ellie decided to cut her off. “Okay, see you at one!” She shut the door, peering at your amused face. “She’s so not funny.”

“I disagree.” You slide your arm through hers, holding onto her as your feet crunched through the grass. Her earthy eyes glanced at you, glancing down at the touching of your skin to hers—boldly in front of your peers. You weren’t entirely thinking, you just wanted to be close to her. That simple feel for physical touch caused her cheeks to fill with warmth, eyes sparkling under the full moon.

She didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to freak you out. Make you coil into your own touch. Earlier, Ellie didn’t make a note of your touch when you were walking to the parking lot after school, because barely anyone was around to tell the tale. The tale of two girls cuddling up with one another in a more than friendly way. Now, you were surrounded by your peers, other upperclassmen, and you were holding onto her like she was your girlfriend. Not your friend.

You approached a wiggling fire, burning a pile of logs, a bonfire. A few fireflies hovered around it with red solo cups in their hands, conversing and laughing. When they noticed you and Ellie, they smiled and waved—some of them. If the varsity team could be cleanly divided in half, that would show the exact turn out of the smiles and frowns.

“Hey, Turner.” Abby greeted you, and you alone. Nora lingered close by, with Dina and Cat hovering in the back. They waved, but they could see the tension developing and didn’t want to get involved.

Instantly, Ellie stiffened, groaning under her breath. “I’m gonna go find us somethin’ to drink.” She pulled from your grasp, leaving you colder than before—and it was leaning more into summer by the day. Riley held her red cup by the white line along the rim, following her as she walked into the dimly lit dark. You could already hear her rants of internal fury coming from Ellie’s pinched mouth.

“Stop trying to piss her off.” You tell the blonde, deepening your eyebrows.

She pushed her long blonde hair behind her ears, shrugging. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Let the situation be done with. It’s over, so get the fuck over it— I’m serious, Abby.” Your voice firmed, glaring up at her, since she was so much taller than you. “We are leaving tomorrow, and I want us to all start off on the right foot.”

“Right leg, you mean?” Nora lifted an arched eyebrow. Shamelessly, she referenced the bone-white fibula that was sticking out of Lucinda Henderson’s leg on the field.

“Is that supposed to be a joke, Nora?” You ask her, narrowing her eyes. “You were so upset about what happened, and now you’re joking about it?”

“Well, if it never happened, I wouldn’t be joking about it now, would I?” The curly-haired forwarder retorted.

You scoffed, having enough of their paired hooplah—it was annoying you, and you were wanting to have a good night. “You know, what? Fuck you guys.” You mutter, pushing through them toward Dina, Cat, and another one of the players, Aisha Conrad. They were watching with keen eyes, clutching their drinks in their hands.

“They’re such bitches…” You grunted, crossing your arms, wondering where Ellie was with your drink. You could certainly use one.

Cat swallowed a sip of the jungle juice, nodding her head. “Tell me about it.” She shook her head. “I should’ve never told my dad about this— we should’ve booked public instead. They would have booked an entirely different flight than us, and we could’ve all been spared of their endless bullshit.”

“You know, the only reason I think Abby is still on this team is because she’s fucking Moore.” Aisha added, rolling her eyes.

Dina gasped, covering her lips with her hand. “Wait, what?”

“Aisha, we shouldn’t be talking about that.” You remind her, widening your eyes, warningly.

“No, wait.” Dina held up a hand, eyeing you. “Abigail Anderson is fucking Owen? The same girl who I always catch chatting up cheerleaders?” She raised her thick eyebrows, guffawing, loosening up from the alcohol in her hands. “Hell, I’m surprised she’s not doing it right now!”

The short-haired midfielder, Cat, looked to the dark sky in thought. “I wonder why she chose Owen of all people. He’s so… Lame.”

“And good for nothin’.” Aisha added, shrugging.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that—good for nothin’—yeah, that checks out. He definitely wasn’t as good of a coach as Tess Servopoulos; you didn’t even know why he was hired. Who cares if he attended Jackson Hole High a few years prior?

“Why not Henry Harmon?” The freckled girl questioned, swirling her drink in her cup. “Now, he’s hot.”

A surprised laugh left your throat. “Dina, don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him— plus, everybody knows that Henry’s hot. Even you. Just because you’re a lesbian doesn’t mean you don’t have eyes.” Dina rambled, carelessly, until she abruptly covered her mouth with her hand, again.

Instead of cowering from the term of your sexual orientation, you barely flinched. You only narrowed your eyes at your friend, chuckling. “Shit, sorry, y/n.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sure half the student body already suspects it.” You wave your hand.

Aisha pursed her lips, glancing around the teenager-filled clearing. “I mean, it’s not like you had a boyfriend in the last four years…”

Cat nudged her, roughly, arching her lips in shock. Aisha could be a little bit too honest for her own good. You were surprised that she hasn’t told everyone in a five-mile radius that she was friends with a lesbian. Or, maybe, she had. There was one afternoon—junior year—when you checked your main locker and a note fell out. It was scribbled with pink cursive handwriting, signed with heart and purple lipstick.

I always knew you were a lesbo!

In that moment, you thought your life was over. Then, a girl by the name of Laura Leony privately came forward, saying it was all her doing. She didn’t declare why, but she didn’t have to—you could understand. After that, you just tried to lay low.

That might’ve been the worst of you and Ellie. To argue was to breathe when it came to the two of you last year.

“Aisha, what would I do without you.”

“Crash and burn.” Innocently, she touched her ears with her shoulders, giggling to herself. “I really don’t think people care as much as you think.”

Deeply, you inhaled. “You’d be surprised.”

The sound of your name was spoken from behind, causing you to swivel. It was Ellie and Riley approaching. She had two drinks in her hands, and was mid-conversation, talking with her eyebrows burrowed together. “Spiked punch,” Ellie informed, handing you the red solo cup, filled a bit more than halfway. “And it’s pretty strong.” She sighed, jutting her eyebrows up at the girls as a greeting.

“Did you guys know that Abby’s fucking the coach?” Dina abruptly asked them, pointing a lazy finger.

“Yeah,” Riley chortled, sipping her drink.

“Tess?” Ellie questioned, incredulously, snapping her head toward her best friend in confusion.

You sigh, rubbing your fingers along your eyebrows, tiredly. It was better that less people knew about Abby’s silly affiliation with the young coach—it was better for the Fireflies. “Owen. Not Tess.” Still, you clarified, glancing at her. There was a reason you kept this one thing from Ellie. Her and Abby rarely got along, what if she exposed this interesting fact aloud during an argument? They could open a case, and the entire team could be put on probation until it was solved.

Her jaw dropped in mischievous shock. “What? You knew about this?” Ellie asked you, while her eyes gleamed in the dark. The ‘and you didn’t tell me’ part was silent, but you somehow could still hear her saying it in your mind, filling the gaps.

Your response was none other than a sip of your drink, and a brief lift of your eyebrows. You’ve been captain of your team since the end of sophomore year—of course, you knew about this!

“It’s not obvious?” Aisha perched an eyebrow, downing the rest of her drink.

“Some of us mind our business, Aisha.” Riley snickered, crossing an arm under her elbow. She squinted her eyes at her as a bratty response. “It’s not a secret if it’s obvious.”

“This is great.” Ellie muttered into her cup, shrugging her shoulders.

You snapped her your head toward her. “No, it’s not great. Don’t get any ideas.”

Her best friend laughed, peering down at her amusingly. “Oh, Turner, you’re late. Far too late— the ideas have already began flowin’.” Riley laughed. She was always a subtle lover of chaos and disturbance. She rarely ever caused it, though; Riley was more the type to watch it unfold, and step in if she needed to.

“Ellie,” You warn, deepening your eyebrows.

She put her hands up. “Your secret is safe with me— or, I guess, her secret.” Her smokey, olive eyes glanced at her closest friend, snickering.

You suck your teeth, tapping your fingers against the plastic of your cup. “Why don’t we talk about something else? Boston! Are we excited about Boston?” The lip of your cup found your lips, and you began sipping the drink like your life depended on it. It was the only way to numb your anxieties.

Dina grinned, pointing her finger at Ellie. “Oh, my God— wait, didn’t you get into MIT?”

Immediately, she grew bashful, nodding her head. “Yeah… But I’m not going.”

You paused, turning your body to face hers. “What do you mean you’re not going?” Your eyebrows were deepened, eyeing her intently. “It’s fucking MIT…”

She inhaled, deeply, pursing her lips. “They didn’t have the major I wanted.”

“You never said anything about this.”

“You never asked…”

An awkward beat passed through the group. Mainly hovering between you and Ellie. Your free hand fell to your side, slapping against your bare thigh. Aisha’s voice barrels through the silence, looking around a few parked cars. “Henry!’ She called, waving her hand high above her head, breaking the silence. “I’m gonna go… Come on, Cat!” Aisha took Cat’s hand, dragging her from the group. Whoops, things just got awkward. However, you didn’t care; your eyes were stuck on Ellie’s with a worried irises.

“I’m sure Jesse is somewhere lookin’ for me… I’ll leave you guys.” Dina gave a tightlipped smile, slipping away, leaving the two of you by yourselves.

“You’re still going to college, right?” You ask, looking at her intently.

“Yeah, of course! Joel would have my head otherwise.” She responded, chuckling, glancing off into the woods.

You blink at her, scoffing under your breath. “Okay, so where? I know you applied to Brown, USC… Uhm—“

“Notre Dame.” Ellie answered, plainly, rocking on her feet.

Your jaw practically unhinged itself, flickering your eyes between hers. Notre Dame? That was your school. “What?”

She sighed, downing the rest of her drink, crumbling up the plastic and tossing it to the side. “They had the major I wanted. Biophysics. And… I saw the acceptance letter in your kitchen while you were in the shower a few weeks ago.” Ellie paused, running her hand through her short hair. “It’s your dream school— I knew you’d commit. Their soccer program is phenomenal— aren’t they, like, second in the country?”

With your lips gapped open, you were frozen in surprise. Ellie had decided to attend the same school as you? Even after her set plan of going to Boston? To say the least, you were surprised—as surprised as a person could get. The possibility of the two of you going to college together never seemed to cross your mind. Indiana didn’t seem like Ellie’s gig.

“I was hoping for a better reaction than this.” She tapped your jaw, lightly rubbing her thumb against the structure of your face.

You blinked, again. Taut breath escaping your throat. Instead of speaking, you wrapped your arms around her neck, tugging her against your body, causing your drink to spill down the back of her shirt—it was an accident. “Woah,” Ellie chortled, pulling you in from your waist.

“Fuck, I would’ve said something sooner about Notre Dame— I just…” You stammered, inhaling, sharply. “I don’t know… I was getting really existential about everything. Leaving the team behind— leaving you behind! I was fuckin’ losing it…” You pulled back, keeping your arms draped around her shoulders. Her fingers finding comfort at your hips. “But I swear, I was gonna tell you once we got back from Boston… I wish you would’ve said something earlier. Now, I look like an asshole.” You plucked her shoulder with your fingers, pouting.

“I was waiting until you wanted to tell me for yourself— it just took longer than expected s’all.”

Ellie was patient when she wanted to be. At first, you thought it was because she knew that you were separating soon, wanting to end on a good note an all. She used to gripe about being in an unlabeled relationship, but since the spring semester started, she was a sweet as pie. “I’m sorry…” You mutter, playing with the short hairs at the nape of her neck. The comment of your coach rang through you mind—maybe, you should warn her about messing up… But you didn’t want to ruin this moment.

“It’s fine.” She hummed, flickering her eyes over your features. It really wasn’t fine, in your mind, but whatever she said went. If you were her, you would’ve broken up with yourself a long time ago. “We’re goin’ to college together.” Ellie grinned, leaning toward your lips.

You laugh, adjusting your arms around her neck. “We’re going to college together.” You parrot, leaning into her, carelessly. Not caring for the off-handed looks of your peers—as their expectations were met by the physicality of your relationship.

Before your lips could meet, surrounded by trees, the sounds of an altercation pulled her from you. It sounded like—

“Is that Riley?” Ellie questioned, looking over your shoulder.

You turned around, narrowing your eyes on the figures getting at each other. They were pointing fingers and yelling, causing a group to develop around them. “What the hell…” You mutter, dropping your cup, and jogging over to the scene. Ellie was on your tail with a similar look of confusion.

People had gathered in a circle around them, urging them to have a cat fight. You shoved the guy instigating to the side, pushing into the middle of the crowd. Heat burrowed under your skin, glaring at the two girls—Riley and Abby—as you mentally decided on the course of action.

“You know what, meat-head? I suggest you keep your fuckin’ mouth shut!”

“Or what?!” Abby exclaimed, holding up her arms, tauntingly. “You gonna kick my shin in—? I’d like to see you try!”

“Am I gonna do that before or after you fuck Coach Mo—“

That’s when you interrupt, running between the two of them. Ellie following in your steps, placing a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “Riles, leave it.”

You snap you fingers, glaring at the both of them. “Fireflies! What the hell are you doing— let’s go!” You instruct them, pointing your fingers toward the semi-crowded wood. There was a path leading you down, but you need them to separate from the rest of your class. Abby hesitated, gritting her jaw, glaring at the girl with braids running down her back. “Go on…” You push her arm, lightly, guiding her to lead the group.

The core group of the team lingered in the crowd, pushing through as soon as you commanded. When you found privacy, they stood in a line before you. In the order of: Ellie, Riley, Aisha, Cat, Dina, Nora, Abby, Sid, Uma and Mei. You didn’t even realize Uma and Mei had been in attendance until they materialized from the shadows of the party.

You paced down the line like a military general, with your hands held behind your back. “Clearly, none of you heard me when I said that tomorrow we need to be starting off on a good foot— so, now, I have to treat you girls like children.” You scold, glaring at the most argumentative on the team.

Sid raised her hand, pursing her dainty lips. “You don’t have to…”

Your eyes peered at her, smirking. “Oh, my God! Sid, thank you so much for volunteering for my exercise—“

“Huh?”

“Come here.” You tell her, holding out a hand. She comes forward, stuffing her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “Here’s what you’re gonna do… You’re gonna go down the line and say what love about your teammates— each and every one.”

Sid groaned, slouching her shoulders. “Ugh, that’s embarrassing! y/n, do I have to? My team knows I fuck with them…”

Dina raised her hand, snickering. “Actually, I didn’t know that… You’re always so quiet.”

You grip Sid’s shoulders from behind, peering over her shoulder. “Now, look at that… Why don’t you start with Ellie?”

She dragged her feet forward, positioning herself to stand before the girl. “Uhm, Ellie… I think you’re one of the best this team has. It may not always seem like it, but I appreciate the feedback you give me when it comes to defense.” Sid sighed moving into the player beside her. “Riley, despite how much it annoyed y/n… I do find it commendable that you were so quick to defend your friend for something that she wasn’t even around to hear.”

Riley glanced at Ellie, earning a soft nudge.

Sid continued, going down the line of the team, awkwardly complimenting until her turn was over. The line went from the end to the front, until everyone had gone; you being the last to compliment your team.

The core argumentative four managed to say nice things about each other, through their opposing opinions, causing everyone to neutralize their emotions. After, Riley Abel had found herself apologizing about nearly exposing the relationship between Abby and Owen—it was fucked up, she said.

Then, Abby apologized for tempting her to fight, which led to her apologizing to Ellie for her harsh judgement. Nora followed suit, hesitantly.

So, your plan worked! Either they were all completely humoring you, or the tactic that Coach Servopoulos mentioned last year actually worked.

It wasn’t long before you heard the horn of Maxine honking at you and Ellie. The complimenting session brought you guys to one, meaning it was time to leave. And neither you nor Ellie didn’t mind. The party wasn’t the most relaxing shindig, but improvements were made within the group. Hopefully, meaning that tomorrow morning everybody will be walking onto that plane with a fresh start.

Sarah had dropped you off at your house. Ellie letting you out the backseat, kissing you goodbye, longingly. Her hands clutched your sides like she didn’t want to release you—like you weren’t seeing each other in seven hours. When she finally did, you held onto her hand until your fingers slipped from hers, walking up the path to your home.

You were a bit of a last-minute packer, meaning you spent the next hour making sure you have everything you needed for Boston. Your uniform, pajama’s, cute clothes, three pairs of shoes—including your cleats. In the case of boredom, you shoved two options of books into your duffle bag. Since you were flying privately, because of a large, humble purchase made by Cat Yoon’s father, there was more give to the weight of your bag.

When you were finished, you put the bags by your front door, as quietly as possible to not wake your parents. Then, you showered and slipped into bed, falling asleep to the image of furthering your education with the love of your life. While it slightly worried you, excitement was the most noticeable emotion coursing through you. More so because it gave you time. Time to open up and be yourself to not only Ellie, but to the world moving and progressing around you. You didn’t want to hide beneath a blanket of neutrality anymore.

To love a woman wasn’t a crime to be charged with. Not anymore, at least—its 1996.

The morning came around fast. Your blaring alarm woke you up with a screech, which was followed by your mother knocking on your door for breakfast. Quickly, you did your hygiene routine. Then, you rushed down the stairs to consume something hearty to last the whole flight, or most of it. You never liked eating on planes. It always felt like the food never digested properly in the air, or perhaps, that was your slight neurosis of flying. Your parents spoke of how proud they were of you, going to nationals, getting into college—they were getting emotional before your eyes.

In a way, their emotions shifted onto you, causing your eyes to water. It felt as if you were already saying goodbye to them. Your father helped pack your bags into the car, before he kissed you farewell. He couldn’t drive you to the airport because work had called him in. “Please, don’t forget to call us when you get to the hotel.”

“Remember, your dad is prone to strokes…” Your mother added, walking around to get into the driver’s seat.

You laugh, pulling from the embrace he had wrapped you in. “I remember. I won’t forget!” You patted his arm, reaching for the handle of the passenger door. “As soon as I get to the hotel, I’ll call you, daddy.”

“All right, have safe flight, honey.”

The sound of the foreign engine of your mother’s car sounded as you slipped into the passenger seat with a departing smile. When your mother pulled out of the driveway, you waved to your father as he watched the car roll into street.

Jackson Hole Airport wasn’t far from your home—under ten miles. So, you didn’t spend a lot of time chatting with your mother before you drifted into the independence of traveling to Boston. You couldn’t get far from the drop-off point before she reminded you to call when you arrived at the hotel. After sharing quick I love you’s, you dragged your luggage, with your duffle bag draped atop of it, into the semi-busy airport.

On your way inside, you catch the frantic movements of Mei Hawkins. She was hitching two medium-sized luggage’s and a backpack. They kept falling over, tilting over sidewalk curbs and bubbles on the pavement. “Mei,” You waved, trotted over toward her. “You need some help?”

Her shoulders were hunched, a whine-like laugh coming from her throat. “If you can…” Mei smiled, showing her slight gapped tooth smile. “Flights always frazzle me.” You took one the luggage’s from her, pulling it along with your other hand. There was some weight to it, more than you thought. “A few years ago, my aunt was in a plane crash— it was minor. Barely lifted off the runway before it came back down. She was stuck in Kyoto for a week.”

You snickered, walking through automatic doors of the airport. “I don’t know if we could count that as a plane crash…”

“You can to! The wheels went up, so everybody felt the collision. It was like a bad landing, but worse.” Mei explained with lifted skinny eyebrows. “It’s freaked me out ever since. I haven’t visited Japan in three years because of it.” She shivered, adjusted the straps of her Jansport. “The only reason why I even agreed to this because, one— it’s nationals, and two— it’s within the country. Slowly, but surely, I’m conquering my fear…”

She was a bit of a nervous rambler, but she played completely opposite of that. Like you, she was a center midfielder—she stood right next to you on the field. When Mei focused, she was a totally different person compared to who she was off the field.

“That’s one way to look at it. Glad you could make it— we need you.” You told her, shuffling through people. The team was able to evade customs since the flight was private, thankfully. Especially, with the load that Mei was carrying.

She chortled, peering her hazel eyes around. “No need to butter me up. I’m already coming.”

“Yeah, clearly. And you brought your whole closet with you.” You laugh, looking over at her. “What’s in this luggage? A dead body?”

Mei looked at you with a pointed expression. “I pack for emergencies…” She leaned closer to you, as you approached the outer boarding area. “All types.” The girl spoke with such diction that made your mind go straight to the gutter.

“Mei, is there alcohol in here?”

Her lip fell between her teeth, mischievously. “I’ll tell if you sit next to me on the plane…” She shrugged, walking ahead of you.

“Sold!” Although, you were planning on sitting beside Ellie, the offer was too good to pass up. If she snuck in the goods, Boston was going to be so much more fun than you expected.

The aircraft came into view, obstructing the morning sun from your eyes. It was the perfect size for your team. A smile creeped onto your face, wheeling yours and Mei’s belongings toward the plane. Coach Servopoulos stood outside, chatting with Henry Harmon, and his brother Sam.

Your eyes widen at the sight of them, jogging toward the two. “Oh, shit! Henry, Sam— since when were you guys coming to Boston?” You ask through a friendly smile, doing a mixture of a waddle and jog to approach the brothers. Mei had simply waved at them, before walking up the metal stairs into the airplane.

Henry grinned, waving his hand, boyishly. He was a senior just like you, approaching graduation with ferocity. He was the president of the school newspaper and worked very hard to earn his position. His brother, Sam, was a sophomore following right in his footsteps, knowing how to man a camera like it was easy. Sam took the pictures, and Henry wrote the stories.

“We’re plannin’ on publishing a story on JHH’s Fireflies going to nationals. Coach T just approved the request yesterday.” Henry grinned, leaning onto his tough-box luggage.

Sam gave a shy, tightlipped smile. He pulled his camera around his body, aiming it you. “Smile!”

The flash of his camera shocked you into being ready, but it didn’t work. “Okay, Sam… At least try and get my good side.” You pose for the photo, turning to the side. He chuckles, snapping the picture, then giving you a thumbs up. “All right, I’ll see you guys inside.”

“What am I chopped liver?!” The head coach calls, slapping her hands against her covered thighs.

“Sorry! Morning, Coach Serv!” You grit your teeth, trotting up the steps. Slightly, struggling with Mei’s bag.

Most of the team had already arrived and they already sat in their seats. Abby jutted her eyebrows at you from her cushioned position, sitting beside Nora. They both had neck rests of different patterns and had faces that exposed their fatigue, and potentially, their hangovers. Dina sat beside Mel, and you knew that wasn’t by personal choice. She waved her fingers at you, keeping place in her book with her other hand. Cat and Aisha sat together, already talking up a storm. Ellie and Riley were the only ones running behind, and it made you frown.

“Mei,” You complain, attempting to put the luggage in the overhead.

“Sorry!” She hopped from the seat she was getting comfortable in, deciding to help you get the luggage into the compartment.

After securing it over your seats, you put your luggage in an empty one a little way from your seat, then the both of you sat. She took the window seat, while you took the aisle, in the front half of the plane. Perhaps, it made sense for you to be ahead of most of the team—you were the captain, after all. And, if you could choose a co-captain—which you asked Coach Servopoulos about a variety of times—it would be the girl sitting beside you, Mei. Not only would she deserve the position, but she’s the next best player beside Ellie. Because the two of you have been involved with each other for some time, choosing Ellie as your co-captain would be a recipe for disaster. Frankly, if she were, the decision would be made on the warm front of collective bias; she played entirely too rough to be considered the co to your captain. And the girls would have a riot.

You lean into Mei, squinting your eyes with inquiry. “What’s in the bag?”

Stubbornly, she shook her head. “I’m not telling you until we take off.”

“You say that like I’m gonna snitch on you, or something.” You bunch your eyebrows together. “I would never… As long as I have in on it.” A snicker fell from your lips, and she playfully shoved you.

“I don’t wanna tell you now because then you’ll just ditch me to sit with Ellie… Whenever she gets here.” Mei pursed her heart-shaped lips, looking through the oval window. She hid behind her words a bit, but you could feel the genuineness peeking through her skin.

An empathetic smile spread onto your lips, gleaming at her. It was always a soft feeling to be liked and appreciated. What a page-turner from the night before. “I already told you that I was gonna sit with you… I wouldn’t go back on my word. Swear.” You held out your pinky-finger, bending it to get her attention.

She narrowed her honey eyes, taking your pinky with hers, releasing a sigh. “Fine…” Mei released your pinky, peering over her seat for prying ears. She leaned toward your ear, and you waited with a slight grin of anticipation. “My sister’s boyfriend sells weed, so she got us fourteen grams to split— but only for the seniors, duh.”

You glance at her. “That can’t be it— your bag weighs a ton.”

“There’s two bottles of Mad Dog 20/20, and the rest of the weight should be my clothes…” She says, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

Your jaw dropped, blinking at her. She had two bottles of Mad Dog 20/20… You never took her for a girl who thrived under rebellion. “Mei, holy shit—” Did her parents know about this?

“What are ya’ll whispering about?” A familiar, raspy voice speaks. Immediately, she caught your attention, causing you to swivel you head around.

“Ellie, where the hell have you been?” Quickly, your attention was diverted—purposely, changing the subject from the items Mei had brought. Sometimes, she had the tendency to be late; and every time it drove you up a wall. “We were told to be here by a certain time for a reason. We’re on a schedule.” You nagged, ignoring the soft kisses she was plotting along your forehead.

She chuckled against your skin before speaking. “Last minute, we had to pick up Riley—”

“My bad!” The brown-skinned girl interjected, raising up a hand while she got situated in her seat toward the back of the plane.

“And some morning traffic picked up— this isn’t my fault. Plus, I bought you some tea!” Ellie offers up a warm cup, holding it in front of you. “It’s lavender.” She grinned.

Your eyes lit up to the drink in front of you, taking the warm cup with quick fingers. “Ugh, I love you…” The mumbled words tumbled from your lips before I could catch them. Every proclamation of love you gave to Ellie was all to yourself, or Dina because she knew about the most when it came to your relationship.

Her olive eyes widened, lips parting in genuine shock. For a moment the world went silent, and neither of you spoke. The process of saying I love you in an environment that wasn’t her bedroom, was an odd feeling. It modeled after the uncomforting bite of a crisp, winter morning—poking at your flushed, sensitive skin.

“Awkward…” Aisha poked her head above her seat, and you shoot her a glare.

Coach Tess Servopoulos walked into the plane, which automatically settled the team. Henry and Sam followed after her, finding their seats somewhere in the middle. Abby waved at Henry, reaching to dap his hand as a greeting.

And she wants to pretend that she’s not lesbian.

Just as she does so, the assistant coach walks steps into the plane, nodding his head curtly at those who spared him a glance. Mel jumped onto her knees in her seat, to wave at him.

Ellie scratched the back of her neck. “I’m assuming you’re sitting with Mei— hey, Mei.” She awkwardly waved.

“Hey, Ellie.” She kindly smiled, bending her index finger at the auburn-haired player.

As you held your warm cup, your skin wrinkled between your eyebrows with internal confusion. Did she not love you? Was this a bad time say that—did you say too much, too fast, too loud? Holy fuck. “Yeah, I am…” You respond, distantly, attempting to meet her eyes but you couldn’t fully.

“Cool, uhm, I’ll be back there,” She juts her thumb toward the pair of seats her best friend was settling in. “With Riley… Uh, maybe Mei and I can switch sometime after take-off…?”

“Maybe… I might be asleep, though…” You scratch your eyebrow, pressing your lips into an awkward smile.  

“Oh,” Ellie pursed her lips, chewing on the skin inside of her mouth.

“Yeah… You should probably go find your seat— take-off should be any minute now.” You found a way to blink at her. The auburn-haired player chortled, nodding her head. Her cheeks had reddened from your undignified confession, but with your sudden coldness, she felt the need to retaliate with frustration. A scoff left her plush lips as she stepped away from you, down the aisle. “Thanks for the tea!” You raised the cup, turning your head to face the leather in front of you.

Mei bored her eyes into the side of your face the moment Ellie left. “What the hell was that?”

“As if I would know…” You casted your eyes to the cup in your hands, feeling its warmth.

“I’ve known you guys for a long time…” Mei began, puffing air through her lips. “I thought you were the one with the concerns.”  

Mei Hawkins had known about your reservations with your sexuality and was one of the few people to understand why you felt that way. She wasn’t a lesbian or thought of women the way you did but she could empathize. Growing up in Jackson wasn’t always the easiest for her either. Her dark, often chained, fish-netted appearance was always a topic of discussion.

“Me too… I don’t know what the hell that was about.” You frowned, scrunching your eyebrows. Ellie has never acted like that before. The moment your louder with your adoration, wether it was on purpose or not, she quivered away. It was such a discomfort that it made your skin itch.

“Maybe, she was just surprised. I love you is kind of big…”

“I’ve already said it before. There’s no reason for her to be so surprised.” You curtly added, intently peering at your friend. Eyes glinting with a shell of worry. For a moment, you thought your eyes were welling up with tears, heating up behind blinking eyelids.

Before the plane took off, the head coach stood up to speak. She demanded that they were to behave the whole flight, be kind to the two attendants, and don’t cause a stir. The girls acknowledged her word all together, nodding their heads, and speaking the saying ‘heard’ in unison.

Within moments the plane finally took off with an unnerving shake of the vessel.

As it rumbled along the track, and gradually lifted off the ground, your stomach folded. Mei had reached for your hand, clenching it with a firm vice. You placed your other hand over hers, puffing air from your lips. Flights weren’t your favorite thing in the world, but your fear wasn’t as great as hers. Under the light weight of her hand, you could feel her trembling. What happened to her aunt must’ve really frightened her—phobia’s truly know how to bury its roots within a person.

Once you were in the air, you dropped her hand, not before massaging her palm, comfortingly. Soon enough, the attendants were walking down the aisle offering snacks and drinks. You were still good on drinks, considering your tea, but a bag a chips wouldn’t hurt. You weren’t hungry, but you offered to share with Mei. To get her mind off the fact that you were floating in the air in a heavy machine.

Within the next few hours, Mei was the first to fall asleep. She swallowed some allergy medication, probably something to help her sleep, and slumped against the window. You tried to sleep but the idea of Ellie being ashamed of loving you bothered your mind. Sure, it was a thought of insecurity, but she’s never done that before. Has she finally had enough of your tiresome ways? If so, you’d understand. That wouldn’t negate the fact that it would still hurt, though.

However, it wouldn’t make sense. She had just admitted to committing to Notre Dame… Because they had the major she wanted, but also, for you. You were confused, and overwhelmed. Perhaps, it was the flight that was making your brain run slow and obsessively.

There was slight turbulence that made you shut your eyes, holding onto the arm of your seat. But it wasn’t enough to completely freak you out—until the shaking got worse. A flight attendant was walking down the aisle, collecting trash into a bag with a kind smile. Another turbulent bump occurred, causing her to run face first into the wall leading to the pit.

After that, there wasn’t much reaction time to laugh or wonder if she was all right.

The private plane began to wave side to side in the air. Beside you, Mei was startled awake with wide eyes. “What the fuck is happening?”

You couldn’t respond because your eyes were stuck on the attendant. Blood had secreted from a wound the accident caused. Her forehead dribbling with thick, crimson blood. Then, the plane dipped in the air, dramatically.

There was a muffled sound of your seat partner calling your name, but your ears had tuned it out while chaos began to nest within the aircraft. Screaming, wailing, yells for order happened all at once.

Masks dropped from the ceiling, but as you began plummeting from the highest point in the sky, you froze. Hastily, Coach Servopoulos appeared, placing the masks over you and Mei’s face as you both panicked in different ways.

Unexpectedly, a hole materialized in the side of the front of the plane, peeling its mechanics away every passing moment. The pressure sucked the head coach out of it, right it front of you. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you released sobs of trepidation.

Mei was right. She had every reason to fear airplanes—but you hated that she was right. It seemed to be your final moments; you peer at her, reaching for her arm, deciding to cling to her. Somehow, your life flashed before your eyes. The moments you shared with Ellie, the moments you hid from the world in the hopes to be seen as normal. What a fucking waste of time.

With Mei in your arms, you shut your eyes, tightly. To brace for the impact of the earth. However, that was something you never got—well, while you were conscious.

In its plummet, sometime between the crash onto the ground and breaking down of its parts, yours and Mei’s seats had been sucked out of the same hole in the wall that Tess had. When it happened, your body shut down out of fear. And for that, you were subconsciously thankful.

However, when your eyes fluttered open after the fall… To your shock, you were hovering over the ground. Moist soil, covered in green leaves, was the only thing in your line of sight. Birds poked at the back of your head, pinching at your skin. Anxiously, you fanned them away.

There was a pressure pulled against your lower stomach, keeping you suspended in the air. You released a groan, reaching for the tightness restricting your lower abdomen. It was the belt of your seat, still locked into the gear that was connected to the cushion. Mindlessly, you tugged at it, dizzy from the fall and the oxygen being squeezed out of you.

When your thumb found the release button, you yelped as you dropped from your suspension, hitting the ground with a thud. Your arms barely braced your fall, causing you to fall face first into the dirt, getting a mouthful of soil.

Its dry, tanginess shocked your senses—waking you up from the trance that had enveloped you. You coughed it up, rubbing your tongue along the fabric of your shirt. “Oh, my God…” You muttered, leaning back onto your knees, taking in the endless environment that surrounded you. Slender stalks of trees went on for miles before you, and it set fear into your muscles.

Mei.

Just then, you gained the memory of the crash. The shutting down of the engine, a hole being blown into the side of the aircraft, the screaming and wailing—you crashed in the woods, but where? You were in a fucking plane crash!

“Mei!” You called for her, rasping, attempting to stand to your feet. You wobbled, scratching your sore throat. But, as you pivoted on your feet, you didn’t have to search far for your seat buddy. Your eyes widened at the sight, lips parting to erupt a horrified shriek.

Her body was strung up, caught in thick branches. Her warm, hazel eyes were wide open, frozen in a state of fear—looking at you. A branch was impaling her chest, propping her body up like a piece of meat on a skewer. It was the same branch that your seat was attached to; the one you fell from.

Your hands covered your mouth in horror, falling back onto your knees. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…” You chanted, leaning into the ground, rocking your body to soothe yourself. Not that it was working. If you could climb the tree to take her down, you wouldn’t have enough strength to pry her from the branch. You couldn’t help her.

Then, the thought of everyone else flooded your mind. “Oh, my God— Ellie…” You whined, wiping your face that was getting covered in more dirt by the second. If something had happened to her… You wouldn’t know what to do. You’ve never been one for suicidal thoughts, but the idea would entice you.

For a moment, you couldn’t help but panic, imagining the worst. What if she was the one strung up like Mei—you wouldn’t be able to take it. The image of that flashed behind your eyelids, causing a cry to emit from your lips. Please, don’t be dead.

The smell of smoke and gas wafted into your nostrils, causing you to sit up. It must’ve been the plane.

Boom!

The sound of an explosion startled you, but it sounded close by. You refused to be alone—out in the middle of nowhere—so, you straightened up. You stood to your feet, dusting the dirt from your shorts. With a final glance to the fallen Mei, you pressed your fingers to your lips, sending a kiss her way. I’m sorry. Internally, you made a promise to never forget her because that was all you could do. She succumbed to one of her greatest fears—what a tragic way to meet one’s end.

However, you had a team to locate, despite the looming temptation of death looking you right in the eye—for the sake of self-preservation, and for the sake of proving to yourself that you weren’t alone in the torture that was the grief nesting inside of you.

taglist: @sawaagyapong, @violetszn, @vxsellie, @vahnilla, @cherryvinyl-777, @aphrodyk3, @lovinglynny.

[danisbrainrot]

Teen nat comforting you when you're crying about something hcs?

natalie scatorccio x reader

a/n: we're so back! after the first two episodes of season three dropped I'm inspired by this ask. it's not head canons, sorry, I just liked the idea and wanted to write a little story about it.

sorry this must be at least six months late, but here it is! camp counsellor nat :)

spoilers ahead!! (technically? I think it's just season two spoilers though)

wiping the tears from your eyes, you sniffle into your lap, hunching over to take up as little space as possible. you just wanted to be out of everyone's way, not wanting to ruin the mood with your tears. everyone else was happy and celebrating surviving winter, while you felt stuck. frozen in time, still unable to move on from how much winter took from you girls.

first jackie. then crystal. then javi. . .

now springtime has rolled around, you can't help but feel the same dread you felt throughout winter—yes, it was lovely now and your team has cultivated a livable community. however, you couldn't help but wonder what happens next winter? When akilah's animals freeze to death, gen can't find game. . . when shauna goes crazy again.

you pause, wondering when was the last time shauna was sane. then, guilt creeps in as you realise that you had no right to judge her—not after everything she lost. her best friend. her baby.

"hey, are you okay?" nat asked, crouching down to your level.

you gasp in shock, wiping more tears from your eyes. your cheeks stung with embarrassment at getting caught—nat came out of nowhere, giving you no time to recuperate. "yeah, just. . . needed to let it out."

placing a comforting hand on your back, nat tried to offer you a reassuring smile. "hey, we all understand. it can feel daunting out here. if you ever need someone to talk, I'm here."

"oh I know, your majesty," you tease, eliciting a snort from nat—you could tell she hated the title. you sigh gently, signalling you were okay. nat pats your thigh, standing up when suddenly your hand flings out to grab hers. "do you think we're awful people? for eating javi? and jackie?"

nat pauses, her face dropping significantly. she bites her bottom lip, which you find insanely attractive, before shrugging. "we did what we had to. . . to survive."

"but if that's what it takes to survive, do we deserve to?" you question, clutching nat's hand firmly. the brunette looks down at you, her expression unreadable, before shaking her head.

"all I know is that it should have been me. javi. . . I still don't believe in lottie's bullshit about the forest, but I will never forget his sacrifice."

you nod, realising your questions were hurting natalie more than you'd meant for them to. you drop your hand, resting it in your lap and watch her walk away.

she swivels her head to look at you, words on the tip of her tongue, before she shakes the thought away and walks away.

late that night, you hear a rustle outside your makeshift hut. turning to your roommate, you find gen fast asleep, so you decide to investigate by yourself. you follow a sliver of light, someone's back to you as they watch the small flames dance.

"shouldn't you put that out? it's late," you ask, sitting next to nat on the campfire log. she glances at you, her face enchantingly illuminated by the flames, taking your breath away.

"just thinking," she mumbles.

"about our conversation before?" you ask, eliciting a nod in response. you stare at the fire, wondering if it was the heat from the dying flames that burnt your cheeks or the way nat looked.

"you didn't chase me. why?" she whispers, not daring to look you in the eyes.

"when we ate jackie, it felt different. . . she was already dead and we didn't cook her, the snow did. sure, it was cannibalism but it wasn't murder. . . if I had chased you—"

"you'd have actively tried to hunt me," she replies.

"it seemed wrong, even for us," you answer.

there was a beat of silence while you watch her gaze into the flames. you felt your heart race in your chest, working up the courage to tell her what you want to say, "it goes both ways," you promise. she looks up at you confused, "if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. . . and I'm sure it's not easy as the antler queen, especially with whatever shauna and mari have going on."

nat erupts into laughter, shaking her head. "don't get me started on those two," she replies, before her laugh fades to a small smile. she places her hand on your shoulder, "but I like the idea. we look out for each other."

"You'll be the queen and I'll be your—wait what is it called. . . the people royalty lean on for support. . . oh, concubines?" your face drops when you notice nat's face. her eyebrows are raised and tries to cover her mouth and stifle her laughter.

nat can no longer hold it in and burst into laughter again, "that doesn't mean what you think it does," she teases.

"oh, that's the sex one. isn't it?" you mutter, lowering your head to avoid her gaze. nat tucks her hair behind her ears, making you think about how she managed to rock the grown out look. she suited blonde, brunette and a combination of both.

nat notices you watching her intensely, "what? is there something in my hair?" she asks, raking her hands through it swiftly.

"no, no. just wondering if you miss the blonde?"

"well, it's still there, isn't it?"

you snort, "yeah, but the full blonde?"

nat shrugs, "more important things to worry about," she replies candidly.

you reach out to play with the blonde hair, twirling it around your finger. unknowingly, you'd accidentally brought her face closer to yours. she didn't seem to mind, but once you realise your cheeks burn and you shuffle away from her. "sorry," you mumble.

"come here," she replies, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you close.

your lips connected seamlessly, like your lips were made for each other. she kisses you softly, a reassurance that she was here for you, while her fingers tangle themselves in your—already tangled—hair.

after what felt like only a minute—but could have been longer—nat gently pulls away, a string of saliva all that connected you two. she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, cleaning away the evidence, and offers you a wonky smile. "I suppose every queen needs her concubine after all," she jokes.

"that was amazing," you whisper, still in awe. she laughs again, resting her forehead against yours.

[laurentidal]

Love and Sacrifice

Valentine's Day Special 2025

Tiffany Bennet always hated me growing up. She hated that I got better grades than her. She hated that I was president of more clubs than her. And she hated that I was somehow just as popular as she was. But she had something that I didn't have, and she loved to throw it in my face. She had the attention of the boys.

I was well-liked and anyone would have said I was pretty. But I didn't have the rack that Tiffany had. And no matter how friendly or flirty I was, the boys all just saw me as the nerdy girl at the top of the class. She used to tell me that the only way I'd get a man was witchcraft. Well… She was half right.

I'm not a witch. Of course. But I am an extremely accomplished psychologist. I grew up. I continued to study. I got my Ph.D. I started my own practice. And I'm sure my bank account is far deeper than that slag Tiffany's. But her taunts still haunted me a decade and a half later. So when Dave came into my practice for help smoking, I seized on an opportunity.

He was handsome. He was successful. He was charming. He was single. He was deep in a guided hypnotic trance. And I was lonely. So as his guide, I steered him toward me. And like the good submissive man I now know him to be, he followed marvelously.

I saw his eyes wander over the waitress that night. She looked a little like I used to, before he knew me. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing. My heart ached slightly at the thought. I know it's natural and healthy for us to recognize beauty in people other than each other - even I could admit the girl was gorgeous - but he was mine. He should only have eyes for me. It wasn't my fault that we'd hit a rough patch just before Valentine's Day.

The girl's smile lit up the room and I haven't seen Dave so charming in a while. I don't think he even realized the change in his own posture and demeanor. But I did.

Maybe it was the stress of the last months. Maybe it was the never-ending cycle of hope and disappointment and blame and forgiveness. Maybe it was the third glass of wine she set down on the table, but I knew then what needed to be done. I knew that no gift I could give the man I'd chosen could compare with her.

After she took our dessert orders, I looked my husband in the eye and spoke his Words. Without a hint of resistance or a moment of hesitation, his eyes focused on me and his breathing slowed. I told him that he needed to excuse himself to the restroom and remain there until I sent him a text to return. He gave me his programmed response, stood, and walked robotically to the back of the restaurant.

And when she returned with our cake, I made sure that the gold necklace he'd given me an hour earlier was dangling lightly from my fingertips.

I asked her to sit for a moment. She hesitated, motioning to the full dining room, but I insisted. I told her that I was very impressed with her work tonight. I told her that she was obviously very comfortable with people. I repeated again and again about how good she must feel and tiring it must be to be on her feet. How exhausting it must be to remember all those orders. How much she needed to breath and relax. And all the while, the gold necklace spun and swung lazily in the air between us, glittering in the candlelight.

She didn't stand a chance.

I knew I didn't have much time. Despite my insistence, she did actually need to return to her job. But I was a professional. I took her deep quickly, speaking phrases and assurances and suggestions that I knew would take root at the center of her mind. And when I snapped my fingers, light came back to her eyes. She thanked me for the compliments and left with a smile. I texted Dave and he returned, still fully asleep.

I woke him. We ate our cake. We left a big tip. We saw a movie. And when the restaurant was closed, we returned. I told Dave that I'd left something there that I needed to retrieve. This is technically true, though it was a someone. I knocked on the locked door five times in a specific pattern, and the blonde waitress appeared behind the glass, eyes glazed and smiling.

She let us in and led us back to our table, where she promptly began to follow the rest of the routine I'd planted in her sleeping mind. I silenced Dave with his Words as she peeled off her uniform. Slowly. Enticingly. And as I watched, I explained to Dave what his real present was going to be.

Both of them woke with a snap, and Dave looked at me with tears in his eyes. He stood, pants obviously tented, and kissed me hard. He thanked me before turning to her. He asked her what she liked. She answered honestly and in great detail. Dave listened and nodded. Then she bent over the table, holding my stare, and letting herself fall into my eyes and he slid into her.

I sat there watching as Dave cheated on me for what I'm positive for the first time. My eyes had tears in them as well, but I knew that this was what had to be done. I tried not to look at him. Instead I looked at her. I held her gaze and whispered words to take her under again. We began to repeat mantras together, until I felt myself sliding under with her.

His two women, hypnotizing each other for him - for the future -only waking once he was finished. It would work. The problem was never with him. But in a marriage, you have to make sacrifices for the common good.

I was surprised that night at how wet I found myself staring into her beautiful eyes. Perhaps I still had things to learn about myself as well. At any rate, she was ours now. And a once given, a gift can be enjoyed by anyone.

Dave says now it's the best Valentine's Day he's ever had and the best gift he's ever received. Though I never would have thought it possible then, I'm inclined to agree.

Kendra has decided to continue to live with us even after the baby is born, though "was ordered" is probably a more apt description of the process. We've both gotten quite used to having her around. She's gotten very used to the sound of her Words. She's even more obedient than my husband.

Besides, we'll need a nanny very soon.

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

[flawseer]

Hey Flawseer, love your art. I wanted to ask if you have any headcanons for some of the supporting characters who aren't really tied to the school, like Chameleon, Icicle, Hailstorm, etc.

Headcanons for specifically those characters? Hm...

This isn't really a headcanon, more of a "this is implied but not outright stated" kind of thing, but Chameleon's childhood was the stuff of nightmares. He hatched with a physical deformity that prevented him from sleeping more than an hour at a time. Think about what that would be like, to never be able to rest, to be tired and exhausted every day.

Child Chameleon is also an interesting window into the darker aspects of Rainwing society. The books often portray their society as idyllic, something pure and optimistic, something to aspire to. But then they had this kid who was suffering in his body, who didn't develop the expected Rainwing traits properly, and they shunned him. Even sweet, lovable, couldn't-hurt-anyone Jambu calls him weird and off-putting for not being able to change colors. We don't know why Chameleon ended up exiled; maybe it was a malicious act or maybe Chameleon lashed out and had to be removed for being dangerous. But it definitely makes you wonder if there are any other skeletons in the Rainwings' closet.

None of this excuses any of the stunts he pulled later as an adult, especially not the emotional manipulation of his daughter. But thinking about his crappy childhood may help you understand how he ended up the way he did. I hope he can find some help.

Here's a picture of him I drew once. He probably has an official design by now, I don't know.

As for headcanons about Chameleon... I think he eats meat. His biology isn't really wired for it, so it tastes absolutely disgusting to him. But he does it anyway, because while he hates the taste of meat so much, he hates the idea of being a Rainwing several times more. So he puts up with it because he knows it is the least Rainwing-like thing you can do. In a strange way, it helps him cope.

For Icicle, I think it is interesting to note that we technically never see her under normal circumstances. She appears in Jade Mountain in book 6 and certainly leaves an impression, but it's easy to forget that everything she does, she does with the awareness that Scarlet currently has a proverbial knife to her brother's throat. Thus, we never get to see what present day Icicle is like when she is able to relax.

Headcanons... The books aren't clear on how or when Scarlet made first contact with her. It could have been in school, as Moonwatcher overhears. Personally, I think Scarlet actually contacted Icicle months prior to the school opening, and instructed Icicle to insert herself as a sleeper agent. I have trouble believing that immaculate Icicle would WANT to be cooped up underground in a dirty cave with a bunch of strangers several miles from home. I think Scarlet made her do it, and she then begged Queen Glacier to send her there, knowing full well she was gonna hate it. Winter then overheard her begging and begged to come along too.

This lends weight to the scene where Icicle finally breaks down in front of Winter. The part where she's her authentic self for the first time, crying and begging Winter not to let her fall asleep so the woman who has been tormenting her inside her own head for months can't tell her that she failed and that her brother is dead.

In the end, her brother is alive. But in trying to get him free, Icicle ruined her own life.

This one might be controversial, I don't know. While I do think Icicle served in the war, and she did definitely kill Mudwings while doing so, I don't think Icicle is the one who killed Crane. Sora insists it was her, but Umber and Marsh do not recognize her, and Mudwing siblings usually fight together, so they would have both been present during her death too.

I think the story becomes more meaningful if the trauma of war just ruined Sora to such an extent that she sees her sister's killer in every somewhat outspoken female Icewing. Then she ran into the library and confirmation-biased herself into believing her hunch by reading unverified essays on Icewing genetics. You know, the same library whose references on Mudwing physiology consist entirely of The Slug-like Qualities of the Mudwings. If Wisemind penned an examination of Icewing physiology too, one can probably imagine how reliable that one would be.

This kind of turns Sora and Icicle into tragic parallels. They are both children born into a war that took their innocence from them, and in the end it ruined them both.

For Hailstorm, I believe after the battle of Jade Mountain ended and Winter got banished, Hailstorm went back to the Ice Kingdom and lived with his mother Tundra for a while. Tundra took the death of her mate very badly and became embittered. She blamed everything bad that happened to their family on Winter, insisted that Winter caused the family to rot. Winter killed the Queen, Winter killed Narwhal, Winter, Winter, Winter, she should have smashed his egg when she had the chance. Hailstorm tried to get her out of the house, to stop talking and thinking about Winter, but nothing worked. She just had her mind set on hating this kid she'd been abusing since his hatching, insisting she gave him the world and he was ungrateful.

Eventually, Hailstorm just couldn't take this constant bleakness and hatred anymore. A few months ago Icewing tradition almost made him kill his little brother and he is just done with the Ice Kingdom. Completely disillusioned. Leave it all behind.

So he goes to Winter, and he starts to ask odd questions, like "If you had never found a way to turn me back from being Pyrite, would you still have loved me", and "If I was a Skywing, would you disown me?" Winter assures him that he will always love him, but starts to get worried about the questions.

Eventually, Hailstorm just flat-out states that he was actually kind of happy with himself as a female Skywing, not having to think about their messed up family and the stupid rankings all the time. He kept thinking about it through their mother's ramblings, how he felt in that body. He's figured out that he wants to go back to being Pyrite, just obviously without the brainwash-y parts. Winter doesn't entirely understand, but wants his brother/sister to be happy, and gives him/her his blessing.

And I guess there you have it. Some of my headcanons. Chameleon the meat eater, the absolute train-wreck that is Icicle's life with a side of Sora, and Hailstorm finds self-affirmation in exploring their gender identity after cutting their toxic mom out of their life.

[dreamwreaver]

Yes! So many parallels indeed between Lucilith and Charlastor, it's actually crazy. It's been a long time since I rambled, things have been busy and sorry for how long this ask is!

Aside from the obvious height difference and personality contrast with their business partner/husband, Alastor and Lilith were gone for seven years.

What's very interesting about it is that Lilith and Lucifer built or ruled over hell together and her absence dealt a detrimental blow to Lucifer's state of mind and made him a neglectful king of hell. She has her own morally ambiguous plans like Alastor that would most likely make her betray her family.

While Charlie's hotel was hardly meeting success until Alastor showed up and given the hotel it's iconic name that she even kept despite it's way of mocking it and together they represent the mission and vision of the hotel. Even if Alastor isn't all that interested in the cause, there's also the fact if it weren't for him stationed at the hotel, Pentious wouldn't have showed up at the hotel to battle him and take Vox's orders which would lead to Charlie convincing him to join for the cause and end up being the first redeemed soul.

Alastor and Lilith are extremely pivotal to Charlie and Lucifer for their developments as leaders with responsibilities as Alastor is the ultimate challenge as a sinner for Charlie and Lilith will cause Lucifer to finally act upon his duties. I have seen some arguments about Vaggie being the Lilith to Charlie's Lucifer and even the show pushes that idea with "More Than Anything Reprise" but I personally don't think that's the case plotwise.

Vaggie doesn't have her own ideals or passion unlike Lilith who has her own goals and drive outside of Lucifer and wishes change just like her daughter. She's more of a supporter of Charlie rather than the inciter of her growth and she doesn't even have such high involvement when it comes to Charlie's progression of her character.

Alastor is obviously not meant to be the love interest but he has a strong purpose in Charlie's character and goals. He's a sinner just like Lilith, having the human experience and dark morals that Charlie needs to learn from him to understand the sinners she intends to redeem. He challenges her and teaches her to learn control, acting as her mentor to help her embrace her demonic traits she had neglected.

Vaggie is Lilith in the sense that she's the loving partner of her royal demon but that's just where the similarity lies. In terms of being her foil and catalyst for change, that's Alastor's part to play and there's no denying how alike he and Lilith are when it comes to their role in the plot.

—rambling nonnie

Hi there Rambley!

I'm sorry it took so long to get a response from me but this is such an interesting analysis and I really wanted to give it the time and consideration it deserves.

First off; you're right. You're just all the way, no bones about it right. I think people compare chaggie to lucilith because "angel and demon" except... that's not true. Lilith was human first. If Adam is the first man, Lilith is the first sinner. The first to fall; the first to become a demon. Technically Charlie isn't even a full on demon, she's a Nephilium at best; half angel and half demon.

Also, I'm gonna say this; Alastor is performing all the emotional labor parts of a relationship. Not that Vaggie isn't doing anything at all. But a canon relationship shouldn't be the fucking noodle incident of a show. Side note; for an in depth explanation of a noodle incident check out OSP's trope talk on the topic. But very basically a noodle incident is an implied event/shenanigan that is referenced off screen but never actually explained. It's meant to help provide depth to a character based on how they react. And the point of a noodle incident is that it is NEVER fully explained because whatever the audience comes up with will always be better than what the writers could.

Why does chaggie feel like a noodle incident relationship? Because we're told all the time they're loving partners, perfectly suited and matched, and shoved as a pair into our faces every five minutes. And you know what? If the show itself actually backed this up with their on screen dynamic I'd be fine with it. Canonnicity is not any reason why I ship so my preferred ship being canon would not mean I dislike the canon one. However, the problem I have is that we're are consistently told that their relationship is perfect and flawless and not even the revelation that vaggie is an exorcist could break them apart. But what precisely is the foundation of their love that makes this so strong? Everything we see on screen only really shows that there are cracks in the bedrock. Vaggie claims to believe in Charlie's dream but treats the sinners under her "care" with passive contempt. She never takes an active role in helping with the goal of redemption of her own volition. Yes, she did the trust lesson but that was because Charlie sort of forced her into it and then when things go badly, which given Vaggie's backstory yes of course she'd believe that combat is the only way to know if you trust someone and yes it all worked out in the end, Vaggie isn't concerned about the fact that she put their employees and residents in danger of being harmed. She's concerned because she failed Charlie. She doesn't see herself as having any purpose beyond making Charlie's dreams come true.

Lilith's purpose was something she rejected originally. Even if the story itself is propaganda from her parents, Charlie knows that her parents CHOSE to be together. Even if it meant suffering eternal damnation. Lilith wanted to make sure that no one was denied choices, given a single purpose with no way to defect from it. Yes, Lucifer loves Lilith and misses her deeply, to the point that he shirks his duties as the ruler of Hell. But let's be clear; lilith's purpose is not to incite Lucifer to do his fucking job. She is plenty able to do things for herself. And if the current theory is right she's in heaven because she was inspiring demon kind to rise up against the injustices doled to them by Heaven. Lilith saw a corrupt system and her first instinct was to take it down.

Seven years she's been gone, and yet Lucifer still wears his wedding ring, and keeps it CLEAN. Like, animation is very intentional, and in a character whose palette is black, white, red, and a pale yellow, the gold of his wedding band sticks out. They could have made it tarnished, something he kept on a chain around his neck. But they didn't. And the thing is that Lilith isn't the only motivation for him to take action. Charlie finally begins to reconcile with him and he sets up the meeting in heaven. Her life is in danger and he immediately poofs into existence to save his daughter. Lucifer does not live for the purpose of someone else. In fact, he also defected from his original purpose; a role which in heaven now seems to have been taken over by Emily.

Back to Alastor doing most of the emotional labor that we'd expect to see in the canon relationship. Alastor has his own ends, his own agenda, his own motivations. All of which are completely separate from Charlie. He doesn't believe redemption is possible. He relishes in violence, and tormenting those he manages to get under his thumb. And yet, as he states; he fulfills Charlie's bizarre requests. He's the one that uses his abilities and clout to give the hotel a reputation that's more than just a joke. He's the one who establishes that they'd need more than just vaggie as an employee to take care of such a large building. And most important of all; the Mimzy incident.

Alastor might claim he doesn't care for attachments. Yet he always helps Mimzy when she runs into trouble. The one remnant of his living days, a connection that lasted beyond death. Even if it's strictly platonic it's a bond that runs deep. I really don't think Alastor would betray Mimzy on a whim. And yet, when she brings danger to the hotel's front door and he takes care of it yet again, he puts his foot down and sets a boundary. And Mimzy calls him out on the fact that he doesn't give a shit about the hotel or its mission. She knows him well enough that she would be correct. But he still stands up to her. Think about that for a second, Alastor stood up to his oldest companion in a moment where Charlie was not around and it couldn't be explained away as an act for her benefit. Vaggie couldn't even stand up to the guy who made her in front of a heavily monitored court where both of them would be under scrutiny. Yes, she said she wouldn't bash the hotel and that she believed in it; but when push came to shove talk was cheap and she did nothing to help her partner's case.

In the fallout of the big reveal; who's the one that goes to check on Charlie? Was it for selfish reasons? Sure, but even if your partner is mad at you, the fact that an entire army of angels is now gunning for you takes priority over the fragile state of your relationship. He manages to anger her into getting out of bed. He gives her answers, he takes her somewhere to get manpower. When vaggie realizes that Charlie and Alastor are making a deal, what is the first thing out of her mouth? She speaks to Charlie instead of being pissed at the guy she already doesn't trust. I'm sorry but if my partner was making a deal with a known bad actor my suspicion is going to what he could have done to make person agree to something, not turning to my partner to... I don't even know what Vaggie's angle was going to be there. Was she going to scold Charlie for making a deal in dire circumstances?

Alastor by contrast chats her up to Rosie, puts his faith in her convincing every cannibal in the town to join her cause, and always seems to bolster her confidence even he doesn't really believe it. Idk, it just feels emotionally Charlie and Alastor have something going that really makes Vaggie feel like a third wheel in her own damn relationship. Vaggie x therapy and being her own person new otp

[fancyfeathers]

For the villain batboys au, for Damian specifically, what if the robin!darling is the daughter of like Harley Quinn or Poison Ivy? Or maybe even Harvey Dent.

I think it’d be interesting to see because technically Damian is a ‘villain’ , maybe even more so than his maternal side, despite having Batman as his father, so he should be ‘good’.

Whereas robin!darling should be a ‘villain’.

Kind of like in Across the Spiderverse, where Miles technically stole Spiderman from the other universe’s Miles.

Personally, I think her being Poison Ivy’s daughter would work, after all, the Al Ghul’e are environmentalists.

Yandere!Batboys as Villains with Robin!Darlings AU Masterlist

Okay I had a thought, Jason and Damian’s darlings are biological sisters, the daughters of Harvey Dent.

Do get me wrong I love the Harley and Poison Ivy idea but like I had an idea that just clicked in my head with these.

Like Jason’s darling, she’s the oldest, she had a normal childhood, getting to grow up with her dad just being dad and not Two Face and my god he was an amazing father. Harvey was friends with Bruce so I imagine that Bruce was like an uncle or godfather to her growing up and during one patrol as Batman he saved her life when she was sneaking out to go to a party and when Bruce scolded her as Batman she knew it was Bruce because it was the same voice he used with her. She kind of becomes a little annoying about it, cause she wants to make the world and better place and begs him to let her become a Robin, after all what’s another Girl Wonder to go along with Dick’s darling, and eventually he gives in and lets her with the condition that one day she will tell her dad…

But then the accident happens and their perfect family isn’t so perfect anymore.

Two Face would never hurt either of his daughters, he could never, he loves them so much, but that does not mean he is okay to take care of them, well Jason’s darling is already in college at this point (paid for mostly by Bruce), but Damian’s darling? She’s just a teenager, so while his two halves fight over what to do, the coin comes to a decision to leave her to someone who can properly take care of her, or at least better than he can. He leaves Damian’s darling in the care of Bruce Wayne.

It is definitely rough on the two of them, especially with one of them in law school and the other one trying to follow in her big sister’s footsteps and become the next Robin because she doesn’t want anything like what happened to their dad to happen again.

The two are still close, especially since Jason’s darling commutes and stays at Wayne Manor while she is in school so she can continue the vigilante life and so she can mentor her little sister who has a lot of pent up aggression after what happened to their dad. So if the newest Robin is not seen with Batman, she is with the second Girl Wonder (probably using a different hero name now, I kind of like Phoenix because it fits the bird theme and it is a nice reference to how in another universe Jason was brought back to life).

Now to be honest, I think Bruce in this AU would be particularly protective of his birds, so much so that if the League of Assassins became an active threat that he would ask them all to turn in their masks just for awhile because while they are capable enough with most threats that are found in Gotham the League of Assassins is all over the planet and if any of them ever want to potentially leave this life Bruce does not want them to have a target on their backs due to being enemies of the League of Assassins.

But the birds are stubborn, so they would follow him if he liked it or not.

Especially since Batman needs his Robin.

So when Bruce comes toe to toe with Ra’s Al Ghul, each of his girls helps him, either by making sure Bruce doesn’t get distracted by other threats or by becoming a distraction by getting in Ra’s Al Ghul’s way.

Damian’s darling throws one Batarang that goes straight through his hand, and pins it to a wall before throwing half a dozen more at the same pinned down hand so he can’t hold a sword in that hand. Then right before both the Demon’s Head and Bruce both have to retreat, Ra’s looks up to see who did that to him and he sees the newest Robin, perching up in the ceiling’s banisters like the little bird she is.

Then Damian hears about this from his grandfather and is enraged that a little girl managed to do that, so he goes to Gotham himself to find her and…

He sees her on her patrol and while he intends to seek revenge perhaps it’s best to stalk his prey for a while…

A while turns into weeks of him being a silent shadow and stalking her while he can.

He hates her for her audacity and how she is treated more like Bruce’s child when he is the biological son, but Bruce does not even know that Damian ever existed.

But still Damian can’t bring himself to kill her, even when he has her at the mercy of his blade when he finally corners her when she is alone on patrol. She is on the ground, bleeding, bruised, and nearly hyperventilating and crying while looking up at Damian with scared eyes. She reminds him of a little wounded animal in that moment.

He decides to let her live, but not without a cost.

He flips over her body with his foot so that she prone on her stomach beneath him and he takes out a knife when he straddles her back. He cuts open the back of her suit and starts carving into her back. While the language is old and she’ll never be able to understand it, it roughly translates to ‘Bird With Clipped Wings/Helpless Little Bird.’

He’ll leave for now, let the Batman find her bleeding and broken, after all he has work to attend to due to being the heir of the League of Assassins and planning their wedding so he can bring her home and lock her away in a cage forever so she’ll only sing just for him or if she doesn’t want to do that then he’ll just make sure she can’t fly or sing again.

Okay so I was thinking about hero names for each of darlings once they stop being Robin, like how Dick became Nightwing, Jason became Red Hood, and so on….

For Dick’s darling I really like Dove because of how magicians are at circuses and magicians use doves in their tricks, ya it made more sense in my head.

Then for Jason like how Phoenix sounds or even Cardinal, like the bird.

Then I don’t have many ideas with Tim, maybe Sparrow because they are prey of owls, or maybe Strigidae because those are normally called ‘true owls’ but idk, kinda feels like I am info dumping on birds right now.

Please send suggestions for their hero names cause I’m kinda stumped.

[kodrama]

#kdramawomensweek

DAY 3: THE HELP

[didiwaffles]

Happy New Art day everyone!

[knifekris]

every day i struggle to make choices

[foxett]

Some au doodles uhmmmm yeah I made another new au I'm at 11 omori AUs...

[the-winds-of-destiny-xxx]

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[arolesbianism]

hello gamers minor life update I have been doing Real bad lately so I will likely continue to be very inactive, but hey on the bright side I have been fleshing out some eternal gales lore I reworked a while back and I can happily say that Dodie no longer completely contradicts the very nature of reality in eternal gales and the fog tower™ officially has a real reason to exist again so hell yeah to that

[nope-body]

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[evieelyzabethh]

"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

❂Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

☼Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

[snoopyracing]

grapes and good fortune // ln4

pairing: lando norris X reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: cursing and alcohol use

includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff

summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.

a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)

masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.

You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved. 

Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time? 

“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session. 

“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass. 

“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?” 

“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.” 

She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.” 

“I’m not in love with Lando.” 

Yes you were. 

“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.” 

“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat. 

“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff. 

“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.” 

“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up. 

A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.” 

You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that. 

“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.” 

She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face  “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.” 

“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.” 

If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”

Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat. 

“Speak of the devil.” She laughs. 

You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-

everything's all right.. just missed you is all. 

Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it. 

“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases. 

“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.” 

Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.

Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under. 

As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?” 

You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.” 

His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him. 

“Quit staring.” 

You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment. 

“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you. 

“I can buy it myself.” 

“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”

You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face. 

“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?” 

“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat. 

“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.” 

And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.” 

With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party. 

“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando. 

Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you. 

“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.” 

An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people. 

Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.”  Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.” 

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.” 

Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.” 

This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.” 

“Why do you do that?” Max groans. 

You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?” 

“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.” 

Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you. 

“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?” 

You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away. 

“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer. 

Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight. 

“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning. 

Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand. 

Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast. 

Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window. 

When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish. 

He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that? 

Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.

As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table? 

He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you. 

“What the hell are you doing down here?” 

The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing. 

His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you. 

“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again. 

Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking. 

“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.

Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed. 

You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.” 

Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear. 

“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence. 

“Shoot.” 

He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?” 

You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?” 

He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”

There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind. 

Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point. 

“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.

“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-” 

His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.

Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over. 

There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever. 

You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks. 

“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.” 

You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world. 

“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.” 

“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.” 

His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long. 

The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there. 

“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!” 

“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.” 

He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.” 

You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime. 

“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.” 

“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.” 

You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again. 

When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.” 

The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.  

max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.

you: i don’t know what you're talking about. 

lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else. 

[kyber-crystal]

10 things i hate about you || f.w.

summary: rumor has it that you and fred weasley are going out. being the instigators you two are, you decide to play into said rumors. but just how far could you go before you lose sight of the line between fiction and reality? 

words: ~7.9k LMFAO I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD HERE

warnings: cheesiness, cliche 10 things i hate about you vibes, both y/n and fred being oblivious idiots. what’s more to love

a/n: you thought i’d avoid writing another fake dating fic? with fred? NEVER. ik there r some fake dating fred fics out there but i swear we need MORE bc this is the best trope ever idc. also made up a name for the school paper cs i forgot if it was a thing in the books/movies lol. reader is an implied gryffindor/ravenclaw but can technically be in whatever house you’d like : )

add yourself to my hp taglist here!

The problem with Hogwarts was that rumors spread through its halls like fiendfyre.

It all started during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry had narrowly caught the Snitch after a Dementor false alarm and carried the team to victory, causing the stadium to explode into ground-shaking cheers.  Waves of deep crimson and gold were pouring onto the field and you almost got trampled in the midst of it until someone pulled you into the center. 

“There you are—I was looking all over for you,” Fred beamed. “You were watching, right?”

“I was sitting front row…you literally saw me, Fred,” you stated plainly. 

“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he winked at you, sidelining you into a hug. “You look very pretty, by the way. I think my hat looks better on you than me.”

“Anddd there’s the woman of the hour! He couldn’t stop staring at you—almost crashed into the teachers’ section ‘cause of that,” Lee came over and clasped your shoulder. 

“That’s what that was all about? Freddie, you need to get it together!”

“Can’t help when you’re as alluring as a Veela,” the compliment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He then tilted his chin down to kiss your forehead, and you didn’t bother pushing him away despite the fact that he was all sweaty after being up in the air. 

A bright flash of light pulled you out of Fred’s embrace, and you blinked to see Colin standing there with a wide grin on his face, camera in hand. 

“Just capturing the moment,” the younger Gryffindor said excitedly. “This is gonna be a good one!”

You thought nothing of it until you went down to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. You went over to find your Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be huddled around something, staring at it intensely.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” Cho beamed brightly at you, moving over to make room for you to sit next to her. “Have you seen the latest school newsletter?”

You filled your plate and took a copy of the Hogwarts Daily Digest that Padma gave you. “No…what’s it all about?”

“Check page 3,” she told you. You took a bite of your toast first, pausing as you scanned over the page. At the front and center was a moving picture of you and Fred embracing, him pressing a kiss to your temple, smiles of pure bliss on both your faces. You had to admit that Colin had a way with pictures; so much so that you almost would’ve believed you and Fred were a true couple just by looking at the article. 

“So we’re going out, apparently,” you said, taking another bite of your food, “...Interesting.”

“Several students were interviewed about it, and they’re wondering if you guys are,” Cho explained. “With the way he kept looking over at you during the game, and how he was searching for you after it ended.” 

“I—I’ve ought to talk to Fred himself, see what he thinks about this—” you spluttered, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I just—we’re not even—”

“But you would be very cute together,” your best friend added. “I mean, you have known each other for how long now? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if you were.”

At the end of the day, you went to the library to squeeze in some quiet alone time for reading, curling up on one of the plushy sofas near the bookshelves. You were deep into a mythical book that Hermione recommended, fully zoned in for what felt like forever until the cushion sank a bit, indicating that someone had sat down next to you.

“What do you want, Fred,” you sighed without even looking up from your book. “Come to bother me again?”

He took the book from your hands in response and closed it. 

“Hey, I was reading that—” you began. 

“I wanted to ask you about the article,” he stated, “don’t you think Creevey’s quite the photographer?”

You scoffed. “If this is about us being a couple, you know we’re not.”

“I was going to suggest something else.”

“And what is that?”

“Given that half the school is talking about us already,” he referred to the whispers in the halls that followed you from class to class, “why not play into the rumors a bit?”

“So you’re suggesting that, what?”

“That we say we’re a couple.”

“...you want to pretend that we’re going out?”

“Why not?” 

“That’s insane,” you shot him a glare. “What do either of us get out of it?”

“Practice, of course,” Fred had a proud look on, “but also, why not have some fun with it?”

You stopped and thought about it for a second. He was right—who were you to not want to have a bit of fun? After all, it was just Fred; it couldn’t be that hard to fake-date someone, especially when you had no real feelings for them.

“Fine, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that, love?”

“Promise not to fall in love with me?” You stuck your hand out towards him. 

Fred took it and gave it a firm shake, his signature mischievous grin making its appearance. “As long as you don’t fall for me either.”

“Dream on.”

He leans forward, voice dropping to a low whisper. “10 galleons says you’ll fall in love with me first.”

“Oh, please. 20 says you won’t even last half as long.”

“You’re on.”

So it began—settling into the whole routine was surprisingly easy. But of course, it was probably easier since you had money on the line; asides from George, you and Fred were the most competitive people in the entire school. You’d do anything for extra money, glory, and infinite bragging rights. 

Making it a point to one-up each other, you began to brainstorm ways to really play up the whole “fake girlfriend” thing.

i. the pda competition, part 1

Monday afternoon’s Potions lesson proceeded as always, with Snape’s annoying, drawling voice instructing you on what to do. 

Today’s class was boring but ended early, the only downside being that you were assigned a hefty load of homework. 

“By the beginning of Wednesday’s class, you shall turn in to me two feet of parchment on the history of Strengthening Solution and its’ properties…” Snape ordered, “...for now, follow the instructions on the board. Ingredients are in the back. I expect the utmost perfection and accuracy…those who fail shall not be tolerated.”

Groaning internally, you headed to the back of the classroom towards the supply cabinets, Fred following close behind. Either Snape was out to get you both or it was sheer luck that had you paired together for this assignment. 

“Wait, you forgot something,” Fred called out as you were about to walk away. 

You turned around, a snarky reply ready. “What is—”

You didn’t even have the chance to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you into his chest, kissing you square on the lips. You were completely taken by surprise and had no time to react whatsoever. 

Low wolf-whistles and “ooohs” reverbrated throughout the entire classroom as you broke apart. 

“What was that for?” you hissed. 

There was a devilish grin on his face, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it right off him. “Just trying to be a good fake boyfriend, of course,” he whispered into your ear.

“Touch me again without warning and I’ll break your nose,” you said in a low tone, ignoring the heat rising up your cheeks.

“Miss Y/L/N…Mr. Weasley…” Snape said lowly, “...back to your seats, both of you. This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Get to work.”

Several students giggled at this and you huffed, heading back to your seat. You didn’t speak more than a few sentences to Fred for the remainder of the lesson, face still flushed from the sudden incident. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked in silence, adding the ingredients into your bubbling cauldron with careful, precise movements.

“That’s 1-0 to me,” he reminded you. “Better hurry and catch up, or I’m winning those Galleons.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, uncapping the bottle in front of you and pouring some of the liquid in.

ii. the pda competition, part 2

After Fred had kissed you in the middle of a packed classroom, you were determined to get back at him, racking your brain for ideas. 

You sat under a sprawling tree by the Great Lake with Cedric, Cho, Padma, Ernie, and several other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Somehow, you got lucky and all had matching free periods today, taking the opportunity to have a picnic by the water together. 

“A little birdie told me that you and a special someone were going out,” Cedric pointed a finger at you, the other arm slung around Cho’s shoulders. “Now what’s going on?”

“They’ve always been mad about each other, only took them a million years to see it,” Ernie butted in. “Isn’t it obvious? One would think they’re already married at this point, though.” 

“Who’s married to who?” you heard someone ask from behind you. 

“Speak of the devil,” Ernie said, “there he is!”

“Was going to check on you—see you at supper?” Fred lightly touched your cheek. You nodded blindly, the skin of his hand hot on your face. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

You turned back around to see everyone smirking at you knowingly. 

“What?” you questioned, adjusting the collar of your shirt as if nothing had happened. 

“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Cho laughed breathily, “Ernie was right. It’s like you’re married.”

“Oh shut up, we’re still much too young for that.”

“Not for long!” 

Of course the only empty seat at the Gryffindor table that evening was next to Fred, and he made sure that you were sitting as close to him as humanly possible. All it would take was an extra few inches and you’d fully be sitting on his lap. You shook off the embarrassment and snapped back into it, determined to win the bet.

“I missed you all day, you know,” he admitted, placing a dinner roll onto your plate for you. “Where have you been?”

“By the lakes,” you said matter-of-factly. “Where else would I be?”

“With me, obviously.” 

“I’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Well that hurt,” he pretended to look hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”

“Second to last,” you joked. “Hey, wait—there’s something on your mouth.”

“Where?” he tried motioning around with his fingers but to no avail. 

“Right…here…” you murmured, gently grasping his chin and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lip, tasting a hint of the sweet cranberry sauce he’d been eating on the tip of your tongue. Loud gasps erupted through the Great Hall at the sudden private but public display. 

Fred inhaled sharply—he knew you were bold, but like this? For once, the jokester had nothing sarcastic to counter you with and was at a loss for words. 

When you pulled away, both yours and his faces were a shade of deep scarlet.

“Cat got your tongue?” you smirked, discreetly slipping a sheet of paper into his back pocket. “That’s 1-1 now, Fred.”

Again, Fred was left speechless. 

“I feel like I’m interrupting something very…” Ron coughed, damn near choking on his chicken leg. “Intimate. Scandalous. Very—”

“Shut it, Ronald,” you cut him off. “Can’t a girl snog her boyfriend when she wants?”

More jaws dropped at your reply, and you simply continued eating, a victorious grin on your face. Fred looked down and fished the note out of his pocket, unfolding the smooth parchment to reveal your tidy penmanship. 

Now who’s the flustered one? you know where to find me if you need me xx

You were so going to win. 

iii. the serenade

You found yourself sitting on the bench watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice—it was Fred’s idea to show up to as many of them as possible to really sell the whole “fake dating” thing. You didn’t mind all that much, as you got bored easily and liked to have a change of scenery every so often while you were studying. 

A loud, abrupt screech caused you to look up from your textbook and you winced, covering your ears. 

“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…” a melodic voice began flowing across the stadium. Confused, you set your book down and stood up, looking around for the source of the noise. 

“You’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…” 

Fred suddenly appeared from the commentator’s box, holding a microphone. He casually leaned against the pole before sliding down and hitting the bleachers, gracefully making his way down the steps. 

“...And I thank God I’m alive…” his eyes remained focused on you, blazing gold and green. “You’re just too good to be true…” 

“What the—”

He spun around and pointed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a childish grin, “...Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“HIT IT, WOOD!” you heard someone (was that Lee?) yell, and music began blasting from the speakers.

Your friends were eyeing you with delight, fully entertained by the fact that you had absolutely no clue what was happening. Fred continued singing while he sauntered down the bleachers with a grace that you had never seen. 

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright

I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night

I love you, baby, trust in me when I say

Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray

Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay

And let me love you, baby, let me love you”

A blush coated your cheeks as he finally approached you, taking one of your hands in his and twirling you around. He held your gaze the entire time, eyes alight with what looked like genuine joy and passion. The rest of your classmates joined in as they crowded around you, joining together in one voice. 

It was impossible to hold back the smile creeping up your face as Fred continued to sing—he was undeniably charming, and you had to admit, this was well worth suffering a brief loss for. 

“Oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…” the final lyrics left his mouth and everyone burst into applause. He made a show of bowing dramatically and kissing your hand in an exaggerated motion. 

You rolled your eyes at the overly extravagant gesture. But deep down, you had enjoyed every second of the impromptu serenade. 

Within minutes after it ended, Fred’s musical spectacle was the talk of the school. Students nudged each other in the corridors as you passed by, whispering words of encouragement, saying how they wished for a relationship like yours, and wondering where they could possibly find someone like Fred. 

You felt him slip something into your robe’s pocket. Fred had sidled up next to you as you headed up the stairs to the common room, still grinning widely. 

“2-1,” he reminded you, kissing your cheek before turning to the Fat Lady and uttering the password. He stepped through the portrait hole and turned back to wait for you, then walked all the way inside. “Better continue that game of catch up, I might just steal the title of ‘best fake partner ever’ from you.”

There’s that beautiful smile, the note read. Keep it on for me, will you?

iv. the nightmare

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, because it was 3:27 a.m. and you were wide awake after barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep. 

Nothing you did worked; even the Potion for Dreamless Sleep had failed to keep the nightmares at bay. You didn’t last long before jolting awake, beads of sweat forming at your forehead and chest heaving with raggedy, jagged breaths. 

After several minutes of tossing and turning you gave up, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to the common room. The fireplace was on, indicating that someone was already there—

“Y/N?” Fred turned around from his spot on the couch to look at you. “What’re you doing up at this hour?”

You yawned, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Finishing an assignment,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sheets of parchment, a vial of ink, and several books were spread out on the coffee table. “You?”

“Nothing,” you lied, sitting down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t miss the hoarse tone in your voice nor your tear-stained face, stopping what he was doing to fully focus on you. “Now I know that’s not true. What’s bothering you, really?”

“I said I’m fine, just can’t sleep.” You let out a shuddering sigh and attempted to will the tears away, but your vision began to blur. “Go finish your work—”

“Hey.” Fred’s voice was soft. “Come here.”

His arms gingerly wrapped around your trembling frame to envelop you into a tight hug. He reached one hand up to smooth out your hair as you shook with silent sobs, your hands curling  into the fabric of his robes as if holding onto him would keep you from slipping away and losing yourself again. 

Fred was never one to be patient, but he knew that you just needed this moment free of chaos. So he waited, laying there with you as he continued murmuring soothing words into your ear, gently rubbing your back; he’d wait for as long as he’d need to. 

You didn’t know how much time passed until the tears ran themselves dry and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” he suggested. “But only if you’re comfortable, that is.”

You hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him. Maybe he’d think you were strange…but seeing how he looked so genuine in that moment changed your mind. 

“I lost you…I lost everyone. I watched you die, Fred.” Your voice was cracked and raw, which sent a pang through his chest. The image of Fred’s lifeless body trapped between the rubble flashed across your vision, feeling as if it was wrapping its cold fingers around your throat. “I watched you all die and I couldn’t save you.”

“But I’m alive and well right now, aren’t I?” he assured you calmly, “I’ll be here for as long as you want me around. You’ll have to fight to the death to get rid of me.”

Managing a broken laugh, you looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really. What are fake boyfriends for, anyway?” His hand found its place against your cheek, fingers gently skimming across your skin. You leaned into his touch and let out a sigh, lips just barely brushing over his palm.  

“No one’s here, Fred…you don’t need to pretend.”

“I know I don’t.” Any and all traces of half-witted sarcasm were gone; wiped clean off his face. Instead, his eyes were glossed over with concern as they raked over yours. “Figured I could keep you company? Since I didn’t want you to be alone in your head like this.”

“I’d like that.”

He then passed a familiar folded square to you, and you opened it with a smile.

I’m here, whenever you need - F.W

v. the hospital wing run-in

“For Godric’s sake, how many more times will I have to see you in here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she hurried around, setting a metal tray by your bedside. “This is the third time this month.”

“Sorry,” you winced as you shifted your injured leg onto the pillow she’d set out. 

“What is it this time?”

“I broke my ankle.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Pursing your lips, you elected to tell her the modified version of the story, which was the one where you had tripped while going down the stairs, not the one that included running down the Astronomy Tower after sneaking up there for a dare (the twins’ doing). 

She shook her head in disbelief, glancing over the cuts on your face and fixing the bandages around your foot. “You’ll be in here for a few days. We’ll have to regrow the bones in your foot and ankle…my, how someone can break this many bones just from missing a step, I can’t seem to understand…what are all of you doing here?”

You followed her gaze to where Hermione, Ginny, Cho, and Fred were standing by the hospital wing’s entrance, alight with excitement upon seeing that you were awake.

“Guys—”

“Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that no visitors are allowed at this time! I advise that you all head back,” Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply. 

“But we haven’t seen her all last night and this morning! Can we just stay for a minute,” Hermione begged. “Please?”

The older woman sighed as she scanned your friends (and fake? boyfriend’s) desperate, pleading faces. “...Alright, then. Don’t stay too long and for Godric’s sake, let her breathe.”

They immediately crowded around your bed and Fred walked over to your side, crouching down so that you were eye level with him. 

“There’s my princess,” his charming persona was back in full force, and he smoothly brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. For what felt like the eleventh time, he was swooping in to kiss your cheek. Not that you were counting. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” you winked as you attempted to prop yourself into an upright position, but failed, giving up and flopping back down. “Ow. My foot.”

Ginny pretended to throw up on Hermione, who then elbowed her in the stomach.  “Ow!” she yelped. “What was that for?” 

“Let’s leave the happy couple alone,” she hissed, and they slowly backed away to give you some space. 

Fred pulled up a chair next to your bedside, propping his chin in his hand to stare at you. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean for you to end up with five broken bones.”

“And a concussion, a killer headache, and not to mention dozens of sore muscles,” you grimaced, but felt a slight ache in your chest when you realized he looked genuinely guilty. “I don’t blame you, really. I mean, I was just as stupid and reckless. I definitely could’ve been more careful but I wasn’t.”

“I’m supposed to mess up your lipstick,” he groaned, “not your bones.”

“Someone took ‘public displays of affection’ the wrong way,” you said sarcastically, and then there was a brief moment of silence before you both burst into laughter.

“Damn right he di—OW, Hermione!”

“Gin, let’s go!” With that, the two girls left the hospital wing, leaving the two of you alone.

“Why are you here, anyway? Hermione and Ginny are because they’re my friends, and you’re my—”

“—lovely, charming, undeniably handsome boyfriend, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Fred finished your sentence for you.

“Right,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I just can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? It seems like you’re always around.”

“And yet, you don’t push me away,” a smile tugged at his lips. “Which clearly means that I’m just that irresistible. I don’t need a charm or some silly love potion to reel you in.”

“Don’t think that because I’m incapacitated, this game is over,” you warned him. “I will beat your arse to a pulp, and you’ll be twenty Galleons lighter. I bet you’re madly in love with me already.”

“Believe what you want, my darling,” he sing-songed, twirling his wand between his fingers. “But we all know I’ve already won this game.”

“Yeah, right. We’re tied now, by the way. That’s for getting me injured.”

“Oi! You can’t just—”

“Shh…don’t come crying to me ‘till you lose.”

He ended up staying overnight. 

You didn’t protest at all. 

Neither did Madam Pomfrey later that evening after seeing him slumped over on your bed, fast asleep, one hand clutching yours like you were the only thing he had left to lose. 

vi. the howler 

For once you managed to get to the Great Hall before Fred did. The bloke was always criminally late or ridiculously early to everything; it was almost laughable how there was no in between for him. 

He finally showed up just ten minutes before breakfast was supposed to end, breathing hard with his hair all messed up.

“What’d I miss?” he asked you.

“Nothing,” you responded. “Just another ordinary day…”

A gust of wind suddenly swept through the hallway causing the napkins to flutter in the air. A giant grey owl came swooping down onto the table and landed straight in front of Fred, clutching an envelope in its curved talons. 

“What’s Errol doing here? We’re not supposed to get our daily mail til’ tomorrow,” Ron gawked, “surprised that he’s here given the number of times he’s collapsed mid-delivery—oh blimey Fred, you must be in trouble! You’ve got a Howler!”

Several Gryffindors around you giggled at this. 

With a slight look of confusion and fear, Fred carefully removed the seal on the bright red envelope. Molly Weasley’s booming voice immediately came bursting from the pages. 

“FRED WEASLEY, HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT YOU WERE DATING MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—Y/N dear, if you’re hearing this, I’m very happy for you and hope to see you at the Burrow soon, I’ll make sure to whip up some homemade custard for you—YOU OUGHT TO TREAT HER RIGHT, BOY, OR ELSE! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I SURE AS MERLIN CAN TAKE YOU RIGHT OUT!”

A silence fell over the entire Great Hall and Fred sat there, in shock. The red envelope folded itself up and then burst into flames, its ashes crumbling to the floor. 

“I’ve never seen him turn that red,” George sniggered. “You’re bloody brilliant, Y/N.”

“Y-you did this?” Fred spluttered. 

“Can’t say I didn’t,” you hummed, patting his head affectionately. “Your mum was bound to find out, one way or another.”

“And you thought this was the best idea?”

“Aww, is little Freddie all embarrassed?” you teased. “Never thought I’d live to see that day.”

“Quit gloating,” the redhead grumbled. “You haven’t won yet. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”

vii. the pda competition, part ∞

As it turned out, continuing to slip into your fake relationship only became more fun as the days and weeks dragged on. And being competitive only added to the fun, as you were scrambling to one-up each other. 

You often opted to hold his hand when walking from place to place, which wasn’t difficult given that you were almost always with him now and had to sell the idea that you really were together. His hands were rough and calloused from all those hours working on joke shop prototypes, but they were still surprisingly comforting. A way to keep you grounded when your head got stuck in the clouds. 

Fred’s signature move was, of course, dropping random kisses on your cheek when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, when he was feeling bolder than usual, that would change to the tender spot between your ear and jaw, your shoulder, or your nose. And each of those times he made sure they were extra drawn-out and that you were in a crowded area so others would see it. The courtyard. The Quidditch pitch. The classroom (two of those incidents were in Potions, much to Snape’s dismay. He didn’t even bother taking points off due to being too disgusted).

“I have a massive exam today,” he declared loudly to you as you stood in front of his upcoming class together. “I think I’m going to need a kiss.”

“Why?” you scoffed. “What do you need that for?”

“For good luck,” Fred said, “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”

“You…want a kiss for good luck?” you started.  

“I’m waiting…” he sang, face turned slightly in an invitation. You sighed and went up on your tiptoes, doing as he asked. “Thank you. But you have terrible aim…you missed.”

“I fear you’re having way too much fun with this,” you muttered. “Don’t make excuses. My lips are not going near yours unless they absolutely need to now.”

“Oh come on, you know you’re having loads of fun too,” he called out as he walked into the classroom. “Catch you later, sweetheart!”

viii. the butterbeer (alt: the pda competition, part ∞)

It was the day of another Hogsmeade outing and you were hand-in-hand with Fred as you walked down the cobblestone streets together. You had planned to spend the day alone for the most part and join Cho for a meal, but Fred had cornered you at breakfast and insisted you go on a date with him.

“To keep up the façade,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t people find it odd if the castle’s favorite couple wasn’t together?” 

You nodded and didn’t protest further; you had no energy to do so anyway. It was far too cold for your taste; you had been dragged out without having time to grab your gloves, blowing hot hair into your hands that were steadily growing numb. 

“Love,” he called for you as he took your hands in his, “oh, your fingers feel like ice.”

“No…shit…” your teeth chattered as you attempted to respond steadily. “Might lose ‘em if we don’t hurry up and get inside—”

“Wait one second,” Fred said as you two stopped right outside the Three Broomsticks, wasting no more time in taking his gloves off and handing them to you to put on, while he wrapped his house scarf around your neck. “There. Let’s head in.”

“But—”

“Boyfriend duties, remember?” he winked at you as he pushed the door open, holding it for you to step inside first. “Come on. I think a butterbeer or two’ll warm you up.”

Fred’s hand remained on the small of your back, pressing in gently to lead you to a cozy booth in the back. The added warmth felt quite nice, you thought, but you also wondered how he managed to stay like a human furnace when it the weather outside was so dreadfully cold. 

It was hard not to stare at him; catching his gaze every so often while sipping your drink. His hair was all tousled from the frigid winds; you took notice of the way it slightly curled out at the ends, glowing under the hazy yellow bar lights. It was annoyingly endearing how he could look so flawless without any effort and even more so that you didn’t have anything snarky to say. 

“Fred, I think we’re being followed…” you whispered as you scanned the near vicinity, fingers brushing against the rim of your mug. There in the far opposite corner sat Padma, Ernie, Cedric, and Cho, attempting to look nonchalant as if they weren’t half-stalking you but they were doing a rather terrible job at it. You quickly looked away.

“So? Isn’t that what we want—for people to see us?” he countered with a tone of confidence. His voice dropped low as he continued to speak to you. “Why don’t we give them a show? No need to be so private.”

Your face burned. “What do you—”

“Not like that,” he chuckled lowly, “what did you think I meant?”

“I…”

Fred paused, then raised his hand and brushed something off your cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“Oh, so we’re playing that game now, are we?”

“Indeed, my lady.”

You scoffed quietly and imitated his motion, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed between his brows. “Put a smile on your face, why don’t you? You look better that way.”

“I always look good, though.”

“I look better than your greasy arse.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. “I’d like to see you tr—”

Before you could say anything else and before he could stop himself from what he was doing, Fred placed a hand on the nape of you neck and pulled you in, kissing you without another word. All protests left behind flew right out the window (along with your morals, too, you thought) and for a split second, it almost didn’t feel like you were pretending at all. 

When you broke apart eventually, breaths a little heavy, neither of you needed to look over to see that your friends were gaping in shock, mouths dropped wide open. Sure, Fred was confident and cocky and you were equally so, but both of you would be lying if you said this didn’t take you by surprise. 

“You still keeping track?” His voice still had that low, almost husky tone to it. He was cupping your cheek now, and you let him keep doing so. “There can only be one victor, right?”

“Wouldn’t forget it,” you exhaled. “You think we look convincing enough right now?”

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

ix.  the thunderstorm 

The day’s exciting Care of Magical Creatures lesson was cut thirty minutes short due to the heavy downpour that had suddenly came crashing down, bringing with it a booming thunderstorm and soaking all your clothes within minutes. 

“Well, that’s it fer today, everyone,” Hagrid announced, “now let’s head back inside, don’ want yeh to catch a cold, we’ll continue when the weather lets up…”

You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and flipped the hood on over your head, eyes narrowing as you stared up at the suddenly stormy grey sky. It just had to be on the one day you got to go outside and do something exciting, damn it….

It was freezing, nearly as horrible as that one day in Hogsmeade, and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to simply curl up by the fireplace with Hermione, the Patil twins, and Cho, and talk all evening long. If you could even make it back to the castle in one, unfrozen piece, maybe you’d at least get your hands on some hot chocolate from the kitchens…

A warm hand found yours amidst the strong winds, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel so cold anymore. 

As if he had read your mind, Fred said, “how about we sneak into the kitchens and grab something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps?”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and he draped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you into his side. It felt so natural now, like this wasn’t part of some long-standing bet to fool the whole school; as if you were just two best friends trying to keep warm in subpar temperatures. And it was almost too easy to get used to it. 

“Oblivious idiots. I told them for years that they’d be perfect together and it’s only this year that they start going out,” George exclaimed from several yards behind, walking side-by-side with Lee Jordan. “Dunno why it took them so long.”

“Love takes time, obviously,” said Lee as he watched Fred lean into your ear and say something, and you giggled lightly in response, “and now, what matters is that I finally have an excuse to make fun of them during Quidditch matches.”

“Oh—good point.”

“And you’ve noticed that he stopped pranking her? Unlike him, isn’t it?” 

“Wait…” George paused as he took in Lee’s questions. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization. “He’s utterly whipped, that git.”

“What happens when boyfriend duties overcome prankster duties…this is perfect. Professor Flitwick owes me 2 galleons. I called it that he’d fall first!” 

“You bet on them?” George squawked. “With Flitwick?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” Lee laughed, “I know you did too.”

The expression on George’s face shifted into one of defeat. “I lost,” he muttered, “I owe McGonagall 3 galleons.”

x. verum exeat (let the truth come out) 

The Gryffindor common room was alight with chatter once again. After a long, grueling week of exam revisions, Quidditch practice, and a brutal match to be remembered, Lee and the twins decided that a small celebration was in order. They had originally planned on inviting half the damn school but after arguing with Hermione, had to shrink the party down to just their smaller, usual friend group (they swore up and down that they’d clean up and not get detention like last time, but she wouldn’t buy it). 

But you knew that if things had the Weasley twins’ names pasted next to them, they’d be far from peaceful; as far as you could possibly get—no matter how big or small. 

“Oh, there you are,” you heard someone say from behind, and turned around to see that it was Hermione.

“Not drinking?”

“Someone’s got to take care of the boys after they go wild, right?” she explained. “Besides…I can’t stand the taste of firewhisky. It burns.”

You offered a tired half-smile and agreed. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Hermione seemed to be deep in thought for a moment until she told you, “You’re very lucky, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“To have Fred, that is. To find someone who’s that in love with you, it’s quite rare.” 

“Oh, please,” you tried to suppress a laugh, “I told you why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 

“And?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at you, “feelings change. Bet or no bet, he cares about you and anyone would be crazy not to see that. Ronald is half-blind and he can tell, too. You can’t possibly tell me that everything you’ve done up to this point has been a lie.” 

“It’s meant nothing to me,” you said bitterly. “I hate him.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. And it doesn’t help that he’s everywhere,” you stopped to take a swig of firewhisky, “and I can’t stand it!”

“Do you not, really?”

“I do, but I—”

“You what?”

“I just hate him!” 

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think? I hate everything about him!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I hate the way he always tries to compete with me, I hate the way he doesn’t take things seriously, I hate that stupid, annoying little smirk he has on his face half the time I see him—”

You inhaled quickly; it felt like you’d just drank an entire vital of Veritaserum with the way that words were tumbling out of your mouth. Hermione gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Go on,’ so you did, “—I hate the way he walks down to the Great Hall every morning with his annoyingly perfect messy hair, I hate the way he risks freezing his arse off to give me his favorite gloves so that I don’t get hypothermia, I hate the way it’s so easy for him to kiss—borderline snog me like it’s nothing, I hate how this is all just supposed to be a game of pretend, and—and most of all, I hate the way he made me fall in love with him without even trying. I hate the way I don't actually hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit…not even at all…”

“You…really mean that?”

You whirled around to see that Fred was standing right behind you with his hands behind his back, eyes hopeful, and you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “Fred—”

“Y/N, I—”

Suddenly it seemed like the walls were closing in on you from all sides, the room spinning; and then, everything around you jumbled into one chaotic mess of noise and color. Without looking to see either his or Hermione’s reactions, without caring that half the room had stopped to see what was going on, you pushed past your friends and quickly clambered out of the portrait hole. 

“What was that about?” Ron’s nose crinkled in confusion. “So much for being a cute couple. Now this is just sad.”

“Will you shut it, Ronald,” Hermione whacked him on the shoulder. 

“OW—”

“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let me catch you drinking even one more shot or I will drag your arse back to bed,” she snapped. 

“Pleeeease do, I would lov—ow, ow, OW! OKAY!” Ron exclaimed as she pinched his ear and began dragging him away. “Okay! I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stop…”

Chest heaving and vision blurring with tears, you rushed outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was quiet in the courtyard asides from the faint trickling of water but that did little to calm you down; it was still too loud, too chaotic, too much. Sitting down at the marbled edge of one of the fountains, you tried to catch your breath and balance, but the world still kept spinning…it felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning; for Merlin’s sake. All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear forever, or jump off the Astronomy tower and fly off to a distant land. You didn’t want to have to worry about how you poured your entire damn heart out in the middle of the common room about your fake boyfriend.

Your fake boyfriend that you realized, with horror, you had begun to develop not-fake feelings for. 

A chill ran through you at that moment and you shivered.

Then the feeling of something warm—a thick coat—being draped over your shoulders shook you out of your trance. You instinctively slid it tighter around yourself.

“Thought I might find you out here,” said Fred. You opened your mouth, ready to ask how in Godric’s name he knew where you were at all times when he didn’t even have the Maurader’s Map anymore, but stopped. This was Fred Weasley, and you had spent an unhealthy amount of time around each other over the past several months that he had to have picked up on your little habits. He was more observant than he let on. 

“What are you doing out here?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. 

“I couldn’t leave you alone outside to freeze, could I?” he asked, sitting down next to you. “What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”

“Please, just…” you inhaled sharply, “I can’t do this. You won. I lost. The game’s over, Weasley.” 

“On a last-name basis now, are we? Ouch,” he said jokingly, but dropped the teasing lilt in his voice when he noticed your eyes starting to water. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

“It just isn’t fair,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not fair,’” your voice faltered, “you’re not supposed to do that. To do this.”

“Do what?”

“To sabotage the bet. To make me lose track of the scores.”

“Well, I stopped counting, you know,” Fred admitted, tucking a hair behind your hair. “There’s no need to keep track anymore, I think we’ve done enough convincing, don’t you think?”

“But that’s the problem!” your voice cracked as you finally turned to look at him. “It isn’t that I’m probably going to be dozens of Galleons poorer after this. It’s that I’m feeling something I shouldn’t, that…that you made me fall in love with you—”

“Y/N—”

“—I hate the way I care about you far more than I should,” you continued on, “and I hate myself even more for even wishing what we had was real. Because it was all fake, Fred, and you know it. We were faking it, and—”

“Y/N,” he repeated more sternly this time, causing you to stop mid sentence. “Look, I already told you I stopped keeping track. After that night in the common room….that’s when I realized I couldn’t. Lee damn near had to hit me over the head and force-feed me Veritaserum to admit that I was in deep. Galleons and glory be damned, I didn’t care about any of that anymore; it was easy for me to pretend when I was already in love with you.”

“But we weren’t supposed to fall in love, that was the rule,” you sniffed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I thought we were supposed to follow the rules.”

Fred’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I think some rules are made to be broken.”

And then, he was closing the gap and connecting your lips in a deep kiss. The gentle motion cut through the chilly evening air, washing over you in a blazing heat that had you melting into a haze of firewhisky, adrenaline, and something that smelled distinctly like a crackling log fire and cinnamon. 

You had kissed him multiple times before this, but this one felt different than all the rest. It didn’t feel like you were doing it for show in the slightest; it felt genuine and warm and so real. 

And the biggest difference was that you never wanted it to come to an end. 

“So?” The grin on his face was palpable; contagious, as you broke apart, “What do you say, we stop faking it?”

“Are you fake breaking up with me?” you gasped and pretended to look surprised. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“I’m asking to real-date you, darling,” he said.

“There’s no money on the line this time?”

“No,” he hummed as he leaned forward to kiss you a second time and pretended to think for a second, “but there might be something else on the line instead.”

“And what is that ‘something else?’”

“You’ll have to wait a few years and see.”

xi. the promise 

—FOUR YEARS LATER—

Fred was a great planner, of course. “Brilliant,” Harry would say, “absolutely brilliant.” He might’ve been a jokester, but he was a very organized jokester. He always knew what he was going to do and when. 

So when it came to you, he thought he had a plan. He thought he had it planned for years; he was thinking fireworks, extravagant displays in the sky, taking you on a sunset ride across Romania on one of Charlie’s dragons. Something to match your free and daring spirit. 

But, the moment ended up presenting itself on its own. 

It was an ordinary night with yours and Hermione’s families joining the Weasleys for a quiet weekend at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was listening intently as Mr. Granger and Harry explained the function of rubber ducks and the Internet in great detail, and the rest of you chatted with your parents,  Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Granger by the kitchen counter about post-graduation plans. 

Mrs. Granger had made an off-hand, passing comment about how lovely your silver bracelet—the one with charms of yours’ and Fred’s initials and Patronuses dangling from it—looked on your wrist. And then Fred was saying, “I know something else that would look great on her,” and taking a small box out of his pocket and flipping it open, revealing a blinding bright, silvery diamond ring. 

Even as shouts of realization and cheers of joy rose up from around the kitchen, the world seemed to fade away into complete silence when he put the ring on your finger and encircled his arms around your torso, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear, 

“I told you there was something else, didn’t I?” 

tags: @xhanthexzoria @arkofblake @fictionalsimp449 @polar-myst @katelikeslaughs @lmllsl @schlattandcompany