#yes i am writing an essay no i will probably not finish it unless for academic reasons

[poetmoongoddess]

As the nerd I am, I started annotating in my book of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley after taking an edible last night

[talatomaz]

lockdown | jj x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i can’t believe that a year ago today, the last ever episode of criminal minds aired. i miss jj so much 🤧

this is sort of in line with my own experiences (to a certain extent). and there’s not as much jj x d!r as i’d intended but I hope you still like it.

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by @ouat2017 : “could you do a jj x daughter where the daughter’s school is on lockdown and jj is worried or something like that?”

warnings: gun violence. blood

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | request list | request rules

r is jj’s 18 year old adopted daughter and suddenly finds herself on lockdown after someone brings a gun into her school

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Look, you’re the one that needs to be tutored so can you please focus?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance.

You were currently in the tutoring centre trying to help a self-absorbed jock pass English so he could remain on the school’s football team.

Looking around you, you saw a handful of students giving both you and Cameron - the man-child you were tutoring - disparaging looks.

“You’re not supposed to be yelling at me. You’re meant to be telling me the answers.”

The aforementioned narcissist leaned against his chair, smirking at you in a way that made you fight to hide a shudder.

You could have easily wiped the grin off his face by mentioning who your mother was and who she worked for but instead, you decided to just continue ignoring his advances and carry on teaching him.

“That’s not how this works, Cameron. Now either you listen to me or you fail and get kicked off the team. And quite frankly, I’d rather the latter happen.”

You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion. Sighing, you answered, “latter means the second thing of two things mentioned in a sentence. Now, for the love of God, just finish writing your paragraph on Heller's satire of capitalism in Catch-22.”

You let out a breath of relief when he finally relented and started to scribble on his sheet of paper. You glanced over at one of your friends, who was also tutoring for extra credit, and smiled when she rolled her eyes at Cameron’s actions.

Leaning against the large desk that stood at the front of the room, you relished in the long-awaited silence aside from hushed whispers that came from other students asking for help.

Taking out your phone, you glanced at the screen to see that it was only midday and soon the lunch bell would be ringing.

You smiled softly at your lock screen.

It was a photo of you and JJ, your adoptive mother.

It was taken a few weeks prior at your 18th birthday party. You’d been living with JJ for almost 5 years now; her having fostered you before later adopting you when you were 14.

You still didn’t know what she saw in you on that day you’d first met her - you’d lost your family in a home invasion, barely surviving yourself - but whatever it was, you were grateful because you’d gotten a second chance at life.

Several minutes passed and you’d only broken from your train of thought when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw your friend, the one who’d rolled her eyes earlier at Cameron, standing beside you.

“I see you finally got him to do his work.” She whispered, loud enough for your ears only.

“Barely. He still has an essay to write and hasn’t even finished a paragraph yet.”

“I would have smacked his sorry ass by now.”

You laughed before clamping your hand over your mouth, her comment having caught you off guard.

“Ally!” You whisper-shouted, playfully hitting her arm.

She looked at you with a raised eyebrow causing you to smirk, “Trust me, I’ve thought about it but-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a large bang rang out, shattering the silence the room had once held.

With wide eyes, your head whipped to the door where the gunshot had presumably come from and you listened as the hallways were filled with panicked screams.

Running to the door, ignoring the gasps and shouts from the other students behind you, you turned the lock on the door, pulled down the blinds, switched off the lights and jammed a chair under the handle.

Looking up, you saw everyone had the same look of panic in their eyes; a few were crying, including Ally, and others were pale with shock, Cameron was one of them.

“Guys, we’re gonna be okay but we have to be quiet.” You whispered harshly, constantly looking over your shoulder at the door, listening for any indication of the shooter coming your way.

Everyone stared at you, as if you were the leader of a camp and they were small children awaiting for further instruction.

You supposed it wasn’t far off.

By taking charge, you were the one who’d been unwillingly given the role of protector.

“First things first,” you walked over to the group of 10 students, “I need you all to make sure your phones are on silent. We can’t risk being caught.”

You watched as everyone followed your instructions.

“I know you all want to call your parents but that’s going to attract attention to us so for right now, we need to be quiet.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest and as you spoke, one thought repeated in your head. JJ.

Taking out your phone, you scrolled to find your mother’s name in your contacts. You watched as your thumb hovered over her name.

Just breathe, y/n. Breathe.

Tapping your mother’s name, you brought the phone to your ear.

“I thought you said we couldn’t call anyone.”

Your eyes locked onto Cameron’s, his face pale and his eyes filled with terror and a hint of anger.

“My Mum works for the FBI.” You whispered as the phone rang out.

Any other time and you probably would have laughed at the way his face grew paler, if that was even possible. But, in a situation this tense, it was going to be difficult to find any levity.

Your Mum picked up on the second ring and you let out a shaky breath when you heard her voice.

“Hi baby. A bit early for your lunch, isn’t it?”

You closed your eyes at her soft tone, as if you were trying to engrave the way she spoke into your mind lest you would never hear it again.

From your lack of response, the blonde sensed there was something up, “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

A single tear dropped down your cheek as you struggled to maintain a steady tone. Catching a glimpse of Ally staring at you, you steeled yourself and spoke.

“Mum, you need to come quick. Someone’s brought a gun into school.”

“Oh my-AARON.”

You winced when you heard her shout for her boss, listening as you could hear her run up stairs. You held your breath as she filled Hotch in on what was happening before telling Garcia to hack into your school’s security system.

“Are you okay? Stupid question. But are you hurt?”

“Mum,” you interrupted her rambling, “I’m fine. I’m in the tutoring centre with 10 other people. I don’t know how many people are injured. It just all happened so fast.”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

Though you could hear the clear panic in her voice, her words did bring some form of reassurance to you.

“Penelope’s hacking into the system so hopefully she can have eyes soon.”

As she spoke, you could hear the clacking of keys in the background of the call; presumably Garcia doing exactly what JJ said.

“Mum?” You questioned when you heard Garcia swear.

Instead of JJ answering, the usually peppy tech analyst replied, her voice shaky and wet, as if she was crying.

“Y/N, thank God you’re okay.”

“What’s wrong, Garcia?”

“Someone’s disabled the cameras remotely. I can only get them back online if someone reprograms them from the inside.”

Grasping what she was explaining, you nodded, “I’ll fix them.”

“What? No!”

Your mother had taken the phone off of Garcia.

“You are not leaving that room, y/n. We’ll find another way in.”

“Mum, someone needs to fix the system from inside the school. I need to do it.”

Ignoring your mother’s worried shouts, you continued to speak, “Mum, I have to. I love you.”

You disconnected the phone and switched it off, preventing her from being able to call you back.

“Y/N, you are not leaving this room.”

You’d only just realised that everyone had been watching you intently during that entire interaction.

“Yes, I am.”

Moving away from the huddle, you rose to your feet and replied to your friend.

Cameron rose to his feet and towered over you as he challenged you, “No, you are not. You’re going to put us in danger.”

“Do you know how to hack into our school’s security system and then reconnect the transformer and enter the Mastercode?”

His face contorted to a look of confusion making you reply,

“Exactly.”

Turning to leave, you felt a large hand enclose around your arm.

“I said, you’re not leaving.”

Your eyes flickered from Cameron’s hand up to his face that dared you to take another step.

“Remove your hand from my arm before I remove your hand from your body. You may letter in football but I’ve been trained by some of the best FBI agents there are and unless you want to end up in a sleeper hold, I suggest you shut up and do what I say for once.”

His harsh grip almost immediately lessened as his hand returned to his side.

“Good. Now, have any of you been shot? No? I didn’t think so. Well, I have and whoever did get shot is probably bleeding out in the hallway. I can’t not do anything.”

No one dared to respond and instead, shook their head ‘no’ at your asking if anyone else would try to stop you.

Content that you weren’t going to deal with any more unnecessary distractions, you made your way to the door and gently removed the chair that was beneath the handle.

“Ally, you’re in charge. Lock the door when I leave. By my count, the FBI will be here soon. And Cameron, you do anything stupid and I’ll shoot you myself.”

Unlocking the door, you stepped out into the empty hallway and hastily made your way to where the main security hub was located.

Just a couple of hours ago, all you had wished for was silence but now that your wish had been granted, all you wanted was to hear the playful shouts and conversations between your friends and fellow students.

The silence that currently fell on your school was unnerving and unbearable. And with each step you took, you flinched at the sound your shoes made against the marble floor. Each noise practically acting as a beacon for the shooter to come find you.

You let out a sigh of relief when you found the Hub and you quickly worked to reconnect the security system. Typing on the laptop that rested atop one of the servers, you couldn’t help the smile that formed when all the cameras re-engaged.

Tapping on one of the keys, you navigated through the various cameras, looking for any indication of the shooter or of any injured people. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of someone.

Squinting at the screen, you saw, what appeared to be a freshman - since you didn’t recognise him as being a part of your year - laying on the ground, a hand clutching his stomach as blood coated his clothing.

Immediately knowing where he was, you cautiously made your way to the east hallway before running when you noticed him laying on the ground, his blood coating the once-white marble floor.

Falling to your knees, you pressed your hands against his wound, trying to stop the steady flow. He groaned out in pain, tears staining his face.

“H-Help me.” He choked out.

“What’s your name?”

“Jackson. But everyone c-calls me J-Jack.”

“Jack, you’re going to be okay. I just need you stay with me, okay? I’m-”

“Y/N.”

You failed to hide the surprise from your face making the younger teen smile despite his predicament.

“You’re t-tutoring Cameron. Everyone knows who you are. Y-You’re the one who doesn’t take any of his shit. I think h-he likes you.”

“Well, tough shit for him. I may be bi but he’s definitely not my type.”

Jack’s laugh quickly turned into another groan of pain.

Unzipping your jacket with one hand, you used the other to keep pressure on his wound. After removing the jacket, you harshly pressed it against his torso and watched as it barely absorbed the blood.

“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. I won’t let you.” You said, tears filling in your eyes as memories rushed back of when you tried to save your brother after he’d been shot.

“You’re going to be okay. I just need you to-”

You stilled when you heard footsteps come up behind you.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You didn’t recognise the voice and couldn’t bring yourself to turn around to face the person who’d caused all this pain.

You opened your mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.

Closing your eyes, you readied yourself for your inevitable death when a shot rang out and a body slumped to the ground beside you.

Jumping at the action, you turned around and almost collapsed in relief at what you saw. Your Mum and her team stood behind you with several SWAT members flanking them.

The tears that had once filled your eyes now spilled shamelessly down your cheeks.

Without saying a word, JJ holstered her gun and ran to your side, hugging you as best she could since your hands were still pressed against Jack’s wound.

Paramedics soon followed and after that it was all a blur. It was as if you were floating outside of your body. Logically, you knew it was the effects of an adrenaline crash but you felt so disconnected from your body.

You barely took note as your mother gently lifted you to your feet, allowing you to be briefly looked over by the paramedics. Nor as your mother escorted you to one of the school bathrooms where she rinsed the blood off your hands.

You didn’t even say a word until you’d arrived back at the BAU where a worried Penelope wrapped you in a tight hug which you returned.

“I’m gonna take her up to my old office, Hotch.”

The Unit Chief simply nodded as he and the rest of the team watched as JJ led you to the abandoned office that was still filled with random case files.

Closing the door, she sat you down on her sofa and stared at you, not touching you in fear that even a simple caress would cause you to shatter.

You exhaled a long breath before finally speaking, “I’m sorry.”

Her brows narrowed, “Sorry? Sweetheart, why?”

You looked at your hands that had been coated in blood less than an hour before and then up at your mother; her blue eyes filled with nothing but concern, love and confusion.

“You told me not to leave and I did. I’m sorry.”

And with that, you started to cry heart-wrenching sobs that made your shoulders shake.

JJ gathered you in her arms, gently rocking you as her long blonde hair draped over you.

“It’s okay, y/n. I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

Her arms wrapped tightly around you as she laid soft kisses on your head, her hand stroking your back.

That only served to make you burrow into her even more, seeking comfort in her motherly embrace.

You muttered your apologies as she continued to reassure you that you were okay.

JJ was afraid that if she stopped, you wouldn’t be here, safe in her arms.

Still rocking you in her arms, she whispered in your ear,

“I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

[bsaka7]

G, K and R for the ask game please 🥰

THANK U ❤️❤️ ENJOY THIS LITERAL ESSAY

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Start to finish... Always straight through (unless of course the order is intentionally nonlinear. But then straight through from the outline anyway)... Sometimes I'll skip part of a scene if it's like... Travel or something I'm having trouble with (I like to use tags like [GET TO RESTURAUNT]) and then I'll go back later and either flesh that bit out or decide its unnecessary. but usually that's not more than one or two paragraphs. I do worry sometimes that I "run out of steam" at the end of fics bc of this strategy but also idk. I don't think any other way would work for me.

K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

I don't know..... I'm not very good at knowing what other people will consider angsty or not (truly I have next to no sense of what fics will emotionally resonate lmao)... anything with infidelity where it like... ends bad for both people...I love falling short of your own destiny/ordained by fate in some terrible way.... I love "it could have been right but it wasn't".... idk. I guess I don't really think of my own ideas like this?? I think i like angstier stuff than I actually think up LOL?? also i don't usually have a ton of ideas im not actually working on I guess

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

in fic.... marthe @wdcseb and milo who has a new blog but I can't remember what it is... bc they are the ones I talk fic the most with and read their stuff and get to know their process!! and because of that sometimes they are who i write for.... also like anyone I'm friends with is an influence lol.

everything else under the cut this is long. I can talk about books forever

I'm not USUALLY trying to emulate other fic writers (though there certainly have been some deeply notable fics for me who have impacted my writing)... I am often taking bits and pieces from published authors. Here is a SHORT list:

Brandon Sanderson. This embarrasses me because I've read a lot of him. He's not a great writer! His stuff reads different when you think about how Mormon he is! But in terms of structure (esp for fantasy), and the idea that you can just sit down and write it. Just pound it out. Has been VERY influential for me (esp for star wars au)

Edward Abbey, Annie Dillard, Gretel Ehrlich. I very much enjoy people who write about the natural environment in both a scientific and experimental and sometimes narrative and/or religious way. Generally isn't something I'm trying to imitate, but does occasionally come out.

Cormac Mccarthy. Sorry to be a bro. Milo got me into him and I love how he cuts out so much chaff in his writing. Have my critiques, yes. Influential, also yes.

John Steinbeck...East of Eden is one of my fav books), I like how he puts together characters and families. I like the biblical allusions. I like how he writes the landscape. I think reading helps me think about how to put things together. And I think Steinbeck strikes a balance between aspirational and readable and like.... arid and present in a way that works so well for me.

Probably a lot more than I'm not even THINKING about rn. I read. Kind of a lot. Some. Of. It is good some of it is not.

I'll also write a lot of fic that is a response (either an imitation of or how I felt whole reading it) to a book or an author...the two most DIRECT ones are:

hymn of -> Cormac Mccarthy, Hot Milk by Deborah Levy

to what will come ahead -> all the kings men by Robert Penn Warren

Okay this is so long. By now you know I can be SO wordy. but there are some thoughts.

[amazingphilza]

study buddies :: cc!multiple x reader

fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some headcanons if the mcyts were trying to help you do hw :D

cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade

tommyinnit

i feel like he’s the type to be in a long discord call with you whilst you both try to finish your work

mans uses the screensharing feature like there’s no tomorrow

“y/n watch my stream on discord and help me guess the answers”

“tommy no! i haven’t even taken a film class before”

“your guess is good as mine”

“just cheat and google the answers!!!”

“fuck you”

he actually just wants your attention because he’s bored out of his mind doing homework

five minutes later of asking you to help him guess questions he’s like

“hey y/n”

“what now?”

“let’s play bedwars”

“oh my god shut up!!!”

if tommy has to speedrun something before a deadline, it is a whole different story tho; he will be so focused on completing that he won’t hear what you’re saying

if you’re struggling in math, you’re on your own

“math is shit, only numbers i need is my primes and youtube analytics” says tommy any time you complain about math

besides the fact he isn’t good at solving math problems, you can’t even read his handwriting if he did try showing you how to do a problem

“okay, y/n, it’s simple, just look” he says in his kareninnit voice and everything

you’d be like “is the variable a G or a 9??”

“fuck you that’s a 4!!!”

tubbo

i don’t know if tubbo ever talked about school before but something about him makes me think he’s actually pretty good at math

like he can explain a few things when it comes to math / algebra

CODING GO BRRRR

no geometry or calculus though, anything past algebra will go bad

if tubbo is doing homework with you, he will definitely tune you out

“hey tubbo can you help me on this question?”

you don’t get a response until like 20 minutes later

“oh yeah, what was it y/n?”

like now you answer? i just got the answer myself after so long, forget you smh

“oh nothing tubbo, nevermind!”

but you’re still grumbling in your head because if he answered just a bit earlier you wouldn’t have gone through the work of finding the answer online

i can also imagine if you’re taking chemistry tubbo is like ;

“oh you’re taking chemistry? let’s make some bombs!” /lh

tubbo would definitely pull an all-nighter with you to finish your projects together

if you had a group project, he would make you do the writing part while he does the drawing part

“we definitely aced this project”

“of course we did, if i made you draw we would’ve ended up with stick figure diagrams”

“TUBBO. THE FUCK?”

ranboo

okay i know ranboo said he isn’t a theatre or band kid (unless im wrong and forgetful) but i feel like he’d be somewhat educated in the topics nonetheless

half the time he’s great moral support, helping you stay motivated !

the other half is him making fun of you

“i cant believe you’re failing, that is so sad, can’t be me”

“it’s literally an honors class, ranboo! it’s supposed to be hard!!”

“taking an honors class willingly? also cant be me AHAHA”

i honestly can’t see ranboo going to school like i know he’s a minor and said he had zoom calls before and plays volleyball but like did i miss something? has he dropped out yet? like something about ranboo does not scream “student” /lh

besides that, i’m not sure what subject he would actually be good in,,, but something about nutrition/health sciences,, he knows a few things

don’t get me wrong, i don’t think he actually likes the subject but somehow remembers what he learned from the class

also gives me the type of energy of the type of person to take a first aid class to be a certified person to do cpr on someone just to kill time during his lunch breaks for a while or something

“i am a certified cpr person”

“my life in ranboo’s hands? oh god please no”

you two would probably joke about the ‘bad’ people in your classes or talk shit about your schools than actually doing anything homework related ngl AHAHAH

“you think your school is down bad? mine went back to campus full time after like 6 months into quarantine because they were running out of money”

“what the hell y/n? your school is a scam, drop out”

“arghhhh i knowww”

“i bet i make more money than your teachers combined AHAHAH”

wilbur soot

he doesn’t seem like the best person to ask for help for homework but can info dump you on very specific historical events + a bit of geography

i kinda see him as the person you can ask to proof read an essay for you and would help it improve immensely

who needs a thesaurus when you have vocabulary boy wilbur?

i dunno if it’s an american thing only or at all, but if/when you get to studying hamilton in your english class, he will get so fucking excited

“no wilbur it isn’t fun! imagine listening to lin-manuel miranda rap ‘alexander hamilton’ at the white house from like 2009 on repeat for over an hour whilst trying to write an analysis about it!! it was so distracting”

“well clearly someone has a personal problem with mr lin-manuel. if i were you, i’d be singing the whole thing”

is this last bit personal and complete spite from my freshman year english class? yes. i do not care? no. /hj

unrelated but i actually scribbled nice guy ballad lyrics and other songs on my english scratch papers in freshman year but anyway

probably isn’t the best person to be in a call to do homework with but wilbur doesn’t mind you ringing him occasionally sometimes

i dunno i can just see him easily get bored of the silence or something but also doesn’t want to bother you too much

but he is genuinely proud of you whenever you tell him you aced a big test you were studying for :D

philza

this man’s bad advice is as bad as him trying to help you on any subject

he’s an old man so /hj

but like honestly, he hasn’t been at school for so long, phil can probably only help with the most basic things when it comes to school

if you have a wack teacher that makes you collect data through surveying people, phil would be one of the best people to ask! straightforward and won’t take too much of your time compared to other people ahem,,

statistics things ! sobs

if you ever complain a lot about your classes and contemplating dropping out and stuff, he will def scold you hard

“ugh phillllllllll can i just like,, never go to school again?”

“do not drop out”

“argh fine, i won’t just ‘cause philza minecraft said so”

honestly if you get a high score in a big test like your sats/gcse’s (whatever you’re taking from wherever you are) he’d probably order you a small meal or something to celebrate :D

like how phil bought ranboo bought him food to his house, it would start as a joke but when you get your test scores back he’s like “YOOO GOOD JOB Y/N”

expect a left meat pizza coming to your house .

technoblade

like wilbur, techno is also helpful when it comes to history!

def knows a decent bit of literature too

besides that i don’t really see him being that helpful

even if he was supposed to be an english major

he will just get mad at the school system for teaching you useless things

“being in school is good but why do you need to know how to know if something is a triangle or not? i can obviously see with my eyes that it’s a triangle”

“i dunno! ask the person that made up geometry”

“just look at a kaleidoscope and be over with it, it isn’t that hard”

“that isn’t how it works—”

“bruhhh”

if you’re looking for the person to call while doing homework, he is not the person /lh

it’s either like 0 or 100 with techno

he can just completely not say anything and ignore you or go on a full rant about whatever class or homework you have

if you have an essay you need written, it will take a lot of bribing but he might take the opportunity if you are rich

“techno i’ll paypal you $10 please help me”

“no. i can make 10 times that amount in 5 minutes if i just started streaming right now”

“techno i don’t have that kind of money! pleaseee”

“no. instead of complaining, you can use that time to actually start you work”

“you’re the worst”

then you speedrun the essay and get an A just to spite him

[startanewdream]

All the time with you

Lily was avoiding him.

Which would be nothing new to James except they were dating for two weeks now and she was his girlfriend - she had said yes when he’d asked her, twice, so James was sure if that - and James had thought everything was fine between them.

It seemed like that when he’d meet her for breakfast - she had kissed him softly on the lips, her eyes closed a second longer when they broke apart as if she was still savouring that kiss and she had beamed at him. They had gone together to Potions class, but then, in the middle of class, when her potion was brewing, she had withdrawn suddenly, edgy on her spot, and she had briefly talked with Professor Slugnorn before vanishing her potion and abandoning class.

That was it. She had left with barely a wave to him, just telling him she would see him later.

But she wasn’t in the Common Room in their next free period and she hadn’t showed up for lunch either. None of her friends seemed to know where she was, which meant James had to resort to search for her in the Marauder’s Map.

‘That’s a little bit stalker, don’t you think?’, Sirius asked, his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face. He always thought it was amusing when James freaked out about Lily as if he could see something James was blind to.

‘I am worried’, James said, very reasonable. Lily was missing - maybe something had happened, maybe she was in the Hospital Wing, maybe she had met someone who was far more interesting than James and…

Well, maybe he was overreacting a little.

But finding Lily was easy - her dot was still on her bed, alone.

On the one place James couldn’t get to her.

‘Oh, Merlin. This is bad’.

‘What is bad?’ Sirius asked, coming to sit on James’ bed and following James’ trembling finger on the Map. ‘She is in her dormitory’.

‘I can’t go there - don’t you see what that means? She is avoiding me’.

Sirius blinked, not impressed.

‘I think she is avoiding everyone, Prongs’.

It could be, but not everyone was her very concerned boyfriend.

‘Probably she was just tired and took advantage of Slug’s love for her to drop out of the class’.

‘That’s it, Lily loves Potions. She wouldn’t leave class unless there was a reason’.

‘Tired, like I said. Aren’t you two overworking to finish that Christmas event?’

James nodded, hoping there wasn’t any guilt showing up on his face. Sure, the Christmas event was one of the things the Heads had to organize, but he and Lily were taking way longer that it was needed just because they had been too entertained with each other in the past two weeks - it turned out that the Prefect’s Room was empty if all Prefects were out in patrol rounds and it turned that James and Lily were responsible for defining those rounds.

All in all, they were taking weeks to do something that they could have finished in two nights - but it provided them a nice excuse to all these moments together.

‘Yeah, maybe’.

‘Just relax, Prongs’.

He wished he could, but Lily didn’t show up for Charms either - another of her favourite classes - so, under his friends’ amused looks, he went to talk to Mary McDonald, asking if she could ask Lily to meet him.

‘Sure, James’, she said, giving him a funny look. ‘But I think she just wants to be alone’.

‘Do you know what’s wrong?’, he asked, biting his lips. Alone, Mary had said. Alone sounded bad.

‘Oh, it’s just - you know what? I will talk to her and we’ll see’.

That sounded ominous too. He nodded, quiet.

There was another free period that afternoon after Double Charms. They stayed in the Common Room, and James was supposedly finishing an essay, but his head kept turning to the stairs to the girl’s dormitories.

‘You are going to break your neck, Prongs’, Remus noted when James turned once more after hearing steps on the stairs, but it was just two Second Year girls that had come down.

‘I am fine’, he said stiffly.

‘No, you are not’, Sirius disagreed, reaching over to grab the parchment James had been writing on. ‘You got back to doodling “L.E”’.

‘It’s short for Law of Elvendork’, James said. ‘The theory that says every object can be turned into another as long as the elements are proportionally observed during the transformation’.

‘You are making this up’.

‘I am making this up’, James conceded, ignoring Sirius’ look. ‘I am just - I wish there was some way of going upstairs -’

‘I know’, Sirius said, a grimace on his face. That was the only thing they had never managed to accomplish in their seven years at Hogwarts. ‘Maybe we can restart that project - did we try the Confundus Charm on the stairs?’

‘Fourth year’, Peter answered him, without raising his eyes from his essay.

‘How about our animagus form? If -’

‘First thing we did on Fifth Year’.

‘Polyjuice Potion?’

‘We tried to brew on Third Year’, now Peter glanced at Sirius, shaking his head. ‘I looked like Anne MacMillan for three days!’

‘Oh, well, she was pretty’.

‘I had half her body. The left part of her body. I had to hide it for three days!’

James almost smiled at the memory.

‘Half of you was pretty then’, he said to Peter, who rolled his eyes. Then James sighed. ‘Well, I can’t finish this essay today, so I will - Lily!’

He raised immediately, a hand grabbing his own hair nervously as Lily came down the stairs. Her face was pale and she smiled at him when she saw him, but there was something restrained on her smile.

James thought she looked like she was really uncomfortable with something.

‘Hi, guys’, she said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. ‘Can I talk to you, James?’

When he nodded, quiet and still, she raised her eyebrows a little bit. ‘Alone, I meant’.

‘Oh, sure’, he said, looking around for a quiet place, but Lily surprised him going in the direction of the boy’s dormitory. He glanced around, finding his friends equally surprised, and followed her upstairs.

Lily didn’t turn to him until they reached the top of the tower. There, she looked around the room - James was grateful that the house-elves had cleaned up their mess, because the room looked decent - before turning to him.

She wasn’t smiling. That didn’t look good.

James felt something pressing his chest, putting all pieces together in a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted to finish - Lily avoiding him, the grimace on her face, the way she was closing her eyes now and then as if to steel herself to do something and her request that they would talk alone, in a place no one could witness their break up -

‘Which one is your bed?’, she asked, stopping his reverie. James blinked, confused, and pointed to the nearest bed. Lily nodded. ‘Control your thoughts, okay?’, she said, sitting on his bed. ‘But lay here with me’.

There had been a considerable number of scenarios that James had imagined Lily on his bed, but on the verge of her breaking up with him was not one of them.

‘I think I prefer to stand up, Lily’, he said slowly.

‘We can’t do it with you like that’, Lily answered him as if it were obvious. ‘Just come here, please, James’.

He frowned, unsure, but he sat on the other side of his bed. Lily looked at him as if James was missing something very important, and when he didn’t move, she sighed.

‘Are you mad at me?’, she asked, sounding tired. ‘I am sorry I went away without -’

‘I thought you were mad with me!’, James interrupted her, shocked. She looked confused.

‘Why would I be mad at you?’

‘Because - yes? What else would you break up with me?’

‘Break up? Did you take that Essence of Insanity in class today?’

‘If you are not breaking up - why did you call me?’

‘Oh’, she blushed, the sweetest shade of pink colouring her face and James imagined he could feel the heat coming from her body. ‘I wanted to cuddle’.

‘... cuddle?’

‘Yeah, you know’, she put her legs on the bed and he saw she had taken out her shoes. Lily laid on the pillows next to him, her hand supporting her head. ‘Mary told me you were worried about me and I thought - instead of being miserable alone in bed, I could be here with you’.

‘You wanted to be miserable with me?’, he asked, but there was a shadow of a grin on his lips now. He took off his own shoes, lying in the bed too, and Lily nestled against his chest, closing her eyes.

‘It’s really hard to be miserable next to you’, she assured him, pressing herself more against him and inspiring heavily. ‘You smell so nice’.

With her lying so close to him, the scent of her shampoo so strong and intoxicating, James thought he could say the same about her.

But he just raised his hand to touch her hair, combing it softly, watching the strands of dark red hair. ‘Lily? Are you ok?’

‘I am, it’s just -’, she paused, unsure. ‘It’s cramps’.

‘Cramps?’, James repeated, confused, and then he opened his eyes. ‘Oooh’.

‘Yeah, sorry about oversharing’.

‘What? No, I - well, I want to know when you are not feeling well or - I mean - can I do anything to help?’

James tried to think of whatever he knew about female biology. His father had explained some things to him a few years ago and he understood the basics, but he hadn’t been paying attention very much if he was honest. Female body looked much more complicated than his.

‘You can keep hugging me’, she whispered and he pressed himself closer to her. 'Sorry about scaring you today. I just wanted to suffer alone'.

'Don't. I mean, I'd rather you don't suffer but - if you must - I am always available for some cuddling'.

She raised her head a little to place a kiss on his neck that gave him goosebumps all over his body.

'I will keep this is mind', she told him warmly. Then Lily sighed. ‘It’s been a while since I have this crisis… I usually take my potions the day before, but - well, I was a little bit distracted yesterday’.

She broke away just enough to wink at him and James suddenly remembered exactly what they had been doing last night on that empty Prefect’s Room - how he had pressed her against the door of the room, his mouth exploring her neck and any exposed skin there, how Lily had moaned softly and how that had driven him crazy -

‘James?’, she called him and he realized he must have drifted off in the memories, judging by how his body was reacting too quickly. He turned slightly, urging his mind to stop recollecting that moment. ‘Maybe now is not the moment?’, she added, a knowing smile on her lips.

‘Sorry’, he said, feeling his neck reddening. James forced himself to focus on the present. ‘I will help you remember next month’, he promised. ‘No distraction, Marauder’s honour’.

‘Maybe just a little distraction’, Lily said, winking at him again. He laughed softly, kissing her forehead, and she rested her head under his chin. ‘I will pay attention next month, don’t worry - I mean, you don’t need to know my cycle, James -’

‘Nonsense’, he said lightly. ‘I already know Remus’, what’s one more?’

She let out an amused laugh, the one that was James' favourite.

‘Well, wait until you experience my mood swings’.

‘PMS? Is that real?’

‘Very real’, she assured him. ‘I may need to hide again -’

‘I hope you don’t’, he whispered, massaging her neck now. ‘I meant it when I said I want to be there with you’.

‘I may get really stressed’, Lily warned him. ‘Like I may want to throw things - it’s better if you are not close’.

‘I have very good reflexes’.

‘Or I may get really sad and cry, and you’ll think it’s because of you, but it’s not’.

‘Then I will give you chocolate’, he promised. ‘Chocolate is the solution for everything’.

Another laugh; James smiled to himself, satisfied with her reaction. Discovering her reactions to him was really his favourite part of the last two weeks of dating her.

‘Well, you can’t go wrong with chocolate’, Lily agreed. ‘And this massage is really good too’.

‘Oh, I have magic fingers’, he teased. ‘I can show you’.

‘James…’

‘I meant a massage in the back, Lily’, he said innocently, and she chuckled once more, not believing him much. ‘Here’.

He sat more upright, helping Lily’s head on a pillow next to him, and started rubbing the base of her neck and then her shoulders, feeling the tension on her muscles and letting it guide him.

‘Hmmm’, she sighed. ‘That’s actually good’.

‘See? Magic fingers’. He kept rubbing her back, feeling her relaxing under his touch. He beamed - even after two weeks of them going out, there was still that disbelief in knowing Lily fancied him back and trusted him and wanted to be with him. ‘So, those mood swings - care to tell me beforehand?’

‘Oh, you’ll notice’, she said distractedly. ‘Two weeks from now probably’.

‘So - two weeks ago you were in one of them?’

‘I guess’.

‘Then our date and all that snogging later - just one mood change?’

‘Oh, it certainly changed my mood’, Lily said, turning her head in his direction and he was relieved to see her green eyes sparkling. ‘There were some hormones involved in kissing you, but I promise you none of them were fleeting’.

‘I’m glad to know’, he answered, grinning too. ‘Or else we would kiss just one week of the month’.

‘That would mean three miserable weeks’.

James laughed. Lily watched him, a smile on her lips that died when she closed her eyes, grimacing.

‘Are you in pain?’, he asked, worried.

‘It’ll pass, just some more minutes for the potion to take effect again’.

He laid down again, this time with her back for him, and Lily curled up against him. He put a hand under her head, careful to entwine his hands with hers.

‘You are so warm’, she whispered.

‘Is that bad?’

‘No, it’s good. I might nap though’.

‘You can - I’ll wake you up later for dinner’.

She sighed softly.

‘Thanks, James - I know this is not how you imagined us being in your bed’.

Her voice was heavier now with sleep, though he could hear her teasing. James let out a soft laugh, kissing the top of her head, and hugging her closer. Lily was quite warm for him too; there was something very cozy in being next to her like that, even if all they were doing was just cuddling together.

He thought of sharing nights with her where they would just do this - lay together, his arms around her, quiet and serene, and somehow those nights looked as appealing as the most creative nights he could dream of.

‘You are wrong, you know’, he whispered, but she didn’t move and James thought she had fallen asleep. ‘I want to be with you in every way’.

And he closed his eyes, letting her warmth and perfume lull him into a quiet sleep too.

[vivithefolle]

Is there anyway you could share the entire livejournal essay about Hermione's reaction to Ron coming back in DH? The few paragraphs that you referred to in your recent answer sound extremely interesting.

[The “recent answer” that goes back to... last December. Oh my god I’m such an ass I left you hanging for so long I’m so sorry.]

Okay, okay, so here goes! KEEP IN MIND: I DIDN’T WRITE THIS. I FOUND THIS ON LIVEJOURNAL AND PICKED EVERYTHING THAT I LIKED ABOUT IT, AS WELL AS SOME COMMENTS THAT INTERESTED ME.

This “essay” was actually more of a “reading the books” thing with the person sharing their thoughts and ideas about it. The person was clearly a Snape fan, but they had sympathy for Ron too. I’ll try to formate it as accurately as I can remember it.

And now, here it is:

---

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

[About Ron being made a prefect.] The essayist: It’s sad, but this probably is the first time Ron’s beaten Harry at something. And the last time.

A commenter: Ron's had a really difficult life, and this is the book that proved it for me. It made me a Ron fan. Just look at the interactions he has with Fred and George. This is commonplace. I know a lot of people don't like Ron, but just look at this book, this chapter especially. People have accused Ron of being lazy, unambitious, having no emotions, and being a big stupid boy. It's just not true. Look at how Fred and George needle him out of jealousy. Look at how they treat Percy. Imagine Ron having to grow up with two older brothers that will not hesitate to bother, torture and torment people that stand out or that get more attention than they do or that cross them. He saw it happening with Percy, so what's he going to learn? He'll learn to shut up unless he wants to have something happen to him. He'll learn that standing out positively is rewarded with cruelty. I can understand how Mrs. Weasley could not have fully protected him from those two. Not all the time, not while trying to also care for Ginny, keeping up with her other kids in school, and running the household. Worst of all, punishing F&G doesn't seem to do anything. Those two just don't care/they crave the attention, negative or positive. The best thing she could've done would be to give them no attention, but that's so against her nature that unfortunately she just fed the monsters. No emotions? Is it really difficult to understand that sensitivity wouldn't be encouraged in young Ron? He's got these two bullies that only want a reaction out of him. If he cries, it'll only encourage them. Any reaction is encouraging to them, but he has to go with anger. It's a survival thing- puff yourself up, make yourself look bigger than you are so the predator messes with you a little less. Look at the pride Ron's showing in his badge. The desire to do well is there. He likes the good feeling that comes with it, but he's been hard-wired since birth that it's better to be "middle of the pack". In later chapters, I know you'll have to point out the way the power makes Ron behave, so I just want to start on the defence now. It's all Ron knows. It's all he's been taught. It's a huge character flaw, but it's what makes him so human. Rowling did develop this in the book, but only accidentally. We're never going to get a good look at Ron's psychology except through these hints because it's, as usual, All About Harry. Ron's flawed, but I hope we remember that he has a reason why he's got those flaws. It doesn't excuse him, but it really explains him. So yeah... that's why I defend Ron.

...

“I’m not Percy,’ he finished defiantly.”

The essayist: Mmmm-hm. Ron feels nervous at the thought of his good fortune inspiring anger in someone and what's his first defence? "I'm not Percy"? Man, the evidence that the Twins' psychological torment has left lasting scars on Ron could not have been more obvious if he'd shielded himself and said "Please don't jinx me, Fred! ... I mean Harry. ... Shit, what'd I say?"

...

“Excellent,”  said  Ron,  with  a  kind  of  groan  of  longing,  and  he  seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them onto his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick. “What  were  you  saying  before  the  Sorting?”  Hermione  asked  the  ghost. “About the hat giving warnings?” “Oh  yes,”  said  Nick,  who  seemed  glad  of  a  reason  to  turn  away  from  Ron,  who  was  now  eating  roast  potatoes  with  almost  indecent  enthusiasm.

The essayist: Ron’s not being very restrained with his eating, is he?

The commenter: I don't know if it's accidental or not, but this is one of those moments that I love, one of the tellings of Ron's home life via his behavior. In this scenario, he's totally a kitten who just got adopted to a house where he's the only cat. He's at a table with food, so his instinct is to eat as fast as he can or his siblings will yoink it. It doesn't help that there are many other people around, encouraging the "get the good stuff fast or you'll have to sate yourself on bread or whatever nobody wants". Ron is so much more human than Harry! How can Harry not be showing any signs of his "horrendous abuse" for eleven years? Well... I guess he sort of does when he buys all that stuff in his first year. And I guess Ron has to go back home every summer where it gets reinforced. But Harry goes back every summer, too... what the hell?

...

“What’s going on?” Ron  had  appeared  in  the  doorway.  His  wide  eyes  traveled  from  Harry,  who  was  kneeling  on  his  bed  with  his  wand  pointing  at  Seamus, to Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised. “He’s having a go at my mother!” Seamus yelled. “What?” said Ron. “Harry wouldn’t do that — we met your mother, we liked her. . .” “That’s  before  she  started  believing  every  word  the  stinking  Daily  Prophet writes about me!” said Harry at the top of his voice. “Oh,”  said  Ron,  comprehension  dawning  across  his  freckled  face.  “Oh . . . right.” “You know what?” said Seamus heatedly, casting Harry a venomous look.  “He’s  right,  I  don’t  want  to  share  a  dormitory  with  him  anymore, he’s a madman.” “That’s out of order, Seamus,” said Ron, whose ears were starting to glow red, always a danger sign. “Out of order, am I?” shouted Seamus, who in contrast with Ron ‘was  turning  paler.  “You  believe  all  the  rubbish  he’s  come  out  with  about You-Know-Who, do you, you reckon he’s telling the truth?” “Yeah, I do!” said Ron angrily. “Then you’re mad too,” said Seamus in disgust. “Yeah?  Well  unfortunately  for  you,  pal,  I’m  also  a  prefect!”  said  Ron,  jabbing  himself  in  the  chest  with  a  finger.  “So  unless  you  want  detention, watch your mouth!”

The essayist: Note how Ron’s first reaction is to side with Harry.

The commenter: Not surprising because of the best friends thing (some might argue) but I say it's not surprising considering how Hermione and Ron were treating Harry like a ticking time bomb. Survival!

...

“Hello, Harry!” It was Cho Chang and what was more, she was on her own again. This was most unusual: Cho was almost always surrounded by a gang of giggling girls; Harry remembered the agony of trying to get her by herself to ask her to the Yule Ball. “Hi,” said Harry, feeling his face grow hot. At least you’re not covered  in Stinksap this time, he told himself. Cho seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “You got that stuff off, then?” “Yeah,”  said  Harry,  trying  to  grin  as  though  the  memory  of  their  last meeting was funny as opposed to mortifying. “So did you . . . er . . . have a good summer?” The moment he had said this he wished he hadn’t: Cedric had been Cho’s boyfriend and the memory of his death must have affected her holiday  almost  as  badly  as  it  had  affected  Harry’s.  .  . Something  seemed  to  tauten  in  her  face,  but  she  said,  “Oh,  it  was  all  right,  you  know. . .” “Is  that  a  Tornados  badge?”  Ron  demanded  suddenly,  pointing  at  the front of Cho’s robes, to which a sky-blue badge emblazoned with a double gold T was pinned. “You don’t support them, do you?” “Yeah, I do,” said Cho. “Have  you  always  supported  them,  or  just  since  they  started  winning the league?” said Ron, in what Harry considered an unnecessarily accusatory tone of voice. “I’ve supported them since I was six,” said Cho coolly. “Anyway . . . see you, Harry.” She  walked  away.  Hermione  waited  until  Cho  was  halfway  across  the courtyard before rounding on Ron. “You are so tactless!”

The essayist: So Harry meets Cho, makes a complete faux pas and reminds her of her dead boyfriend. Ron quickly steers the conversation away onto something more happy, i.e., Quidditch, before Cho can get too upset. Nevertheless, Ron is apparently the insensitive jerk around here, not Harry.

[If this reminds you of something, then yes, I absolutely took what the essayist was saying and elaborated on it. I confess, I am a dirty thief.]

...

“Well, I suppose he could’ve played better,” Harry muttered, “but it was only the first training session, like you said. . .” Neither Harry nor Ron seemed to make much headway with their homework  that  night.  Harry  knew  Ron  was  too  preoccupied  with  how  badly  he  had  performed  at  Quidditch  practice  and  he  himself  was having difficulty in getting the chant of “Gryffindor are losers” out of his head. [...] And so they worked on while the sky outside the windows became steadily darker; slowly, the crowd in the common room began to thin again.   At   half-past   eleven,   Hermione   wandered   over   to   them,   yawning. “Nearly done?” “No,” said Ron shortly. “Jupiter’s  biggest  moon  is  Ganymede,  not  Callisto,”  she  said,  pointing over Ron’s shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay, “and it’s Io that’s got the volcanos.” “Thanks,” snarled Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.

The essayist: So Ron’s getting basic facts wrong in his essays.

The commenter: This is going to look so contrived, but I genuinely believe it, and maybe after these reviews, your standards for contrived have dropped enough for me to pass the bar :3 But... he's not putting in any effort. His ego can't take another beating at the moment (even punching bags have limits). Imagine it- after the Quidditch humiliation with his friend the Star Athlete (when he really was trying) he tries to distract himself by doing school work 1. which he isn't very good at anyway, 2. with the Star Athlete of Academics/Slytherin Spectator Crowd best friend Hermione there 3. with Hermione there to set it right anyway (it sounds as if Hermione isn’t so much correcting their essays as writing them herself). If he tries his best at this and then fails at that, Ron probably would start to consider suicide. It's self-preservation at this point to put in zero effort. This kind of fail is literally "I'm not trying because I have given up."

...

She  wrenched  her  bag  open;  Harry  thought  she  was  about  to  put  her books away, but instead she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects,  placed  them  carefully  on  a  table  by  the  fireplace,  covered  them  with  a  few  screwed-up  bits  of  parchment  and  a  broken  quill,  and  stood back to admire the effect. “What  in  the  name  of  Merlin  are  you  doing?”  said  Ron,  watching  her as though fearful for her sanity. “They’re  hats  for  house-elves,”  she  said  briskly,  now  stuffing  her  books  back  into  her  bag.  “I  did  them  over  the  summer.  I’m  a  really  slow  knitter  without  magic,  but  now  I’m  back  at  school  I  should  be  able to make lots more.” “You’re leaving out hats for the house-elves?” said Ron slowly. “And you’re covering them up with rubbish first?” “Yes,” said Hermione defiantly, swinging her bag onto her back. “That’s not on,” said Ron angrily. “You’re trying to trick them into picking  up  the  hats.  You’re  setting  them  free  when  they  might  not  want to be free.” “Of  course  they  want  to  be  free!”  said  Hermione  at  once,  though  her face was turning pink. “Don’t you dare touch those hats, Ron!” She left. Ron waited until she had disappeared through the door to the girls’ dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats. They  should  at  least  see  what  they’re  picking  up,”  he  said  firmly.  “Anyway  .  .  .”  He  rolled  up  the  parchment  on  which  he  had  written  the title of Snape’s essay. “There’s no point trying to finish this now, I can’t  do  it  without  Hermione,  I  haven’t  got  a  clue  what  you’re  supposed to do with moonstones, have you?”

The essayist: This doesn’t seem like a particularly open-minded and enquiring position to take, although I suppose that Hermione’s open-mindedness has always been something of an informed attribute.

The commenter: This trope among fans has got me riled up beyond belief because they use the "Hermione's word is gospel" thing to make unfair assumptions about other characters: Ron's "emotional range of a teaspoon" thing comes to mind, and right after that, Lavender supposedly being silly about believing Trelawney about her dead pet (Hermione never considered that maybe the thing Lavender was dreading was bad news from home or bad news about her pet). Regarding house elves: This is one case where the fans ought to have seen that Hermione was being very thoughtless as far as strategy. Ron has lived all his life up until this point thinking that there was no problem with house elves and she literally expects to be able to just tell him "it's wrong" and he's supposed to change instantly? Talk about your cultural insensitivity. In this case, maybe Ron knows better than you do, Hermione? You didn't even know about house elves until you were at least twelve (but more likely, she didn't know until this year). She must understand the concept of "he doesn't know it's wrong". That was how she defended Crookshanks when he was chasing Scabbers. ... Hey, Hermione thinks Ron's smarter than her cat. That's something, I guess.

...

The commenter: Competition is seriously the worst thing in the world for Ron. He's got wa-a-ay too much baggage. Do well so they'll love you. Do well so they'll notice you. If they notice you, you'll get praised. And tormented by Fred and George. Then if you fuck up, you'll have let everyone down. My brothers never let anyone down. That's the standard. Oh God, I can't live up to that. Which do I want to chose- being ignored or scorned? I could do well. Then I'll be good enough to be called "just like them"! JFC, when's it ever going to be "Good like Ron"? Chess. Literally everyone else has one thing they shine in, even Neville with his Botany and Dean with his art (and... and I'm going to ignore the fact that Hermione and Luna are the only two I can think of with non-appearance based special stuff... someone please help me out? I guess Tonks' doesn't really count as a shallow one because it makes her a master of disguise...)

...

HALF-BLOOD PRINCE

...

Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry.

The essayist: “Hermione spared [Ron] one look of disdain before turning back to Harry” pretty much sums up her relationships within the trio. It’s no wonder Ron’s so insecure and keeps worrying that she really fancies Harry.

...

“And you’ve been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway...”  “You  can  still  see  where  those  brains  got  hold  of  me  in  the  Ministry,  look,”  said  Ron,  shaking  back his sleeves.  “And  it  doesn’t  hurt  that  you’ve  grown  about  a  foot  over  the  summer  either,”  Hermione  finished, ignoring Ron.  “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially.

The essayist: Ron’s so adorably pathetic here, the way he’s obviously feeling inferior to Harry and being ignored by his so-called friends. *hugs Ron*

...

When they left the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, they passed  Lavender  Brown  and  Parvati  Patil.  Remembering  what  Hermione  had  said  about  the  Patil  twins’  parents  wanting  them  to  leave  Hogwarts,  Harry  was  unsurprised  to  see  that  the  two  best  friends were whispering together, looking distressed. What did surprise him was that when Ron drew level with them, Parvati suddenly nudged Lavender, who looked around and gave Ron a wide smile. Ron blinked at her, then returned the smile uncertainly. His walk instantly became something more like a strut. Harry resisted the temptation to laugh, remembering that Ron had refrained from doing so  after  Malfoy  had  broken  Harry’s  nose;  Hermione,  however,  looked  cold  and  distant  all  the  way  down  to  the  stadium  through  the  cool,  misty  drizzle,  and  departed  to  find  a  place  in  the  stands  without wishing Ron good luck. 

The essayist: Hermione keeps belittling Ron and doing him down, and reacts quite strongly when he even so much hints at losing interest in her and showing attention to another woman. Can we say “abusive relationship”, anybody?

...

“Harry! Ginny!” Hermione was hurrying toward them, very pink-faced and wearing a cloak, hat, and gloves. “I got back a couple of hours ago, I've just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck--I mean Witherwings,” she said breathlessly. “Did you have a good Christmas?” “Yeah,” said Ron at once, “pretty eventful, Rufus Scrim—” “I've got something for you, Harry,” said Hermione, neither looking at Ron nor giving any sign that she had heard him. “Oh, hang on--password. Abstinence.”

The essayist: Wow, Hermione’s just being so childish here, ignoring Ron when he’s talking directly to her. Incidentally, Ron’s speaking to her like a normal friend, it’s Hermione who’s doing the blanking. Still, I’m sure this argument is all Ron’s fault for daring to go out with another girl. Hermione is totally blameless.

[Just in case: the essayist is being sarcastic, they’re pointing out the double standard of the HP fandom blaming Hermione’s immature behaviour on Ron.]

...

DEATHLY HALLOWS

...

“I think you’re right,” she told him. “It’s just a morality tale, it’s obvious which gift is best, which one you’d choose—” The three of them spoke at the same time; Hermione said, “the Cloak,” Ron said, “the wand,” and Harry said, “the stone.” They looked at each other, half surprised, half amused. “You’re supposed to say the Cloak,” Ron told Hermione, “but you wouldn’t need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!” “We’ve already got an Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry. “And it’s helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed!” said Hermione. “Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble—” “Only if you shouted about it,” argued Ron. “Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head, and singing, ‘I’ve got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you’re good enough.’ As long as you kept your trap shut—” “Yes, but could you keep your trap shut?” said Hermione, looking skeptical. “You know, the only true thing he said to us was that there have been stories about extra-powerful wands for hundreds of years.” “There have?” asked Harry. Hermione looked exasperated: the expression was so endearingly familiar that Harry and Ron grinned at each other.

The commenter (?): Actually, I thought that Ron was proving the errors in the story. Because he’s right. The eldest brother didn’t die because the Elder Wand had corrupted him (like the One Ring). He died because he was an idiot. He died because he randomly decided to start blabbing about his new toy.

“You talk about wands like they’ve got feelings,” said Harry, “like they canthink for themselves.” “The wand chooses the wizard,” said Ollivander. “That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore.” “A person can still use a wand that hasn’t chosen them, though?” asked Harry. “Oh yes, if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand. These connections are complex. An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand.”

The essayist: Harry’s wand has to think for and protect him because he’s too stupid and incompetent to think for and protect himself! Ollivander’s the expert, and he just admitted it. He said any halfway decent wizard can perform magic with almost any wand. The reason Harry could only work with the holly wand is because of the phoenix feather core it shares with Voldemort’s wand. That is, it wasn’t Harry doing the magic with Harry’s wand! It was the Voldemort soul piece! Once Harry was forced to use wands that didn’t have that core, the soul piece couldn’t do the work for Harry any more. He was forced to rely on his own magical powers and competence, which are clearly minimal. This is proven by his inability to do effective magic with any other wand. It’s also proven by an incident from Philosopher’s Stone. Remember when Harry was being chased by bullies and inexplicably found himself on top of the shed roof? That was the soul piece allowing him to fly like Voldy. Lily could slow her descent from a height, as if she had an invisible parachute, but that is not the same as flying, and we have no evidence she could fly. Only Voldemort and Snape fly without assistance! The evidence is overwhelming that I am right. How many spells can Harry do effectively? Expelliarmus, Expecto Patronum, Protego--that’s it. Even as a young adult, he is incapable of doing the basic healing or cleaning spells a young child should have down pat before going to Hogwarts. Of course, we’re told the Patronus spell is difficult and advanced, but who told us that? Remus Lupin, friend of Harry’s father, sycophant, and notorious liar, particularly when it comes to flattering Harry. Recall Lupin also said Snape didn’t like James because Snape was envious of Potter Sr.’s Quidditch prowess, and we know that was a lie. Given this evidence, anything Lupin says that cannot be confirmed by an independent source, especially regarding the Potters, should be dismissed out of hand. True, Hermione has trouble with the Patronus spell, and she’s super-competent. Doesn’t that prove it’s a very difficult spell? Not at all. To take an example from a different field, Beethoven was a virtuoso organist, the greatest pianist of his day, one of the greatest pianists in history, and probably the greatest improvisational musician ever. But he was only a decent violinist. Everybody has areas of weakness, no matter how good they are overall. In addition, Hermione is very gullible where authority figures are concerned. If a teacher tells her, “The Patronus is a very difficult, advanced spell that many people can’t ever master,” she’ll believe that, which may create a self-fulfilling prophecy. A couple of years ago, another DTCL member and I facetiously suggested Harry was less intelligent than his wand. We didn’t know we were right. It rarely happens, but this is an occasion when I would have preferred to be wrong.

...

If only there was a way of getting a better wand... And desire for the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, unbeatable, invincible, swal-lowed him once more... They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that Harry found bleak and depressing. He could think only of the Deathly Hallows. It was as though a flame had been lit inside him that nothing, not Hermione’s flat disbelief nor Ron’s persistent doubts, could extinguish. And yet the fiercer the longing for the Hallows burned inside him, the less joyful it made him. He blamed Ron and Hermione: Their determined indifference was as bad as the relentless rain for dampening his spirits, but neither could erode his certainty, which remained absolute. Harry’s belief in and longing for the Hallows consumed him so much that he felt isolated from the other two and their obsession with the Horcruxes. [...] As the weeks crept on, Harry could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption, that Ron seemed to be taking charge. Perhaps because he was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harry’s descent into listlessness galvanized his dormant leadership qualities, Ron was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other two into action. [...] But not until March did luck favor Ron at last.

The essayist: MARCH! That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. The first fifteen pages of this chapter cover three months, and during that entire time, Harry Potter does nothing, nothing, but sit on his ass fantasizing about the Elder Wand and trying to connect with his Voldie-soul mate. Oh, wait. He also tries to open the snitch so he can get the stone out of it. (Nothing gay about that, either.) I wish he’d succeed in that, too. Maybe he’d swallow the stone, and it would end up in his scrotum. He sure needs something that works down there. Harry doesn’t have the right to bail out on his society like this. He can’t have it both ways. He can’t have the adulation that goes with being Mr. Boy-Who-Lived-Chosen-One-Wizarding-World-Savior and abdicate the responsibilities that go along with those titles and that adulation. Look at what happens in this chapter: Harry becomes obsessed with finding and uniting the Hallows, so much so that he withdraws from his friends, bails out on the job his idol Dumbledore gave him, and spends all his time brooding and trying to connect with the Dull Lord. In other words, he acts clinically depressed. Ron and Hermione were exposed to the same information Harry was, but they didn’t become obsessed/depressed. Ron was mildly interested in the Super-Wand, but not enough to distract him from the Horcrux hunt. Hermione dismissed the whole DH story as nonsense and continued following Dumbestbore’s orders. So why weren’t they tempted?

...

The essayist: Harry opens the locket using Parseltongue--interesting that this never occurred to him before now--and two ghostly figures emerge. They’re Voldie-versions of Harry and Hermione, and they articulate Ron’s worst fears: “Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter...Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend...Second best, always, eternally overshadowed...” I’ll say it again: When you’re right, you’re right. The evidence is overwhelming that Molly Weasley treated Ron the worst of all her children. And if Rowling doesn’t want us to ship HP/HG, she needs to quit throwing them together and making them leaders, with Ron either in the background or absent entirely. JKR obviously wants us to automatically dismiss certain statements just because they’re made by “bad guys” such as Voldemort and Rita Skeeter. There are two problems with this: (1) The “lies” make perfect sense, far more sense than what we’re supposed to believe. (2) Even pathological liars sometimes tell the truth, typically when it won’t hurt their own interests to do so. For those of us who live in what cartoonist Garry Trudeau calls “the reality-based community,” the evidence is what matters, not what we’re told by authority figures. Those of us in the higher stages of spiritual development are funny that way.

...

The essayist: Well, whose fault is that, Ms. Rowling? You’re the one who’s spent the last four books making Ron dumber and dumber, depriving him of any meaningful activity, while you shoved Harry and Hermione into increasingly dominant roles.

The commenter: Are we supposed to look down on Ron now so that we can condemn him for leaving Harry and Hermione? Because if so, then that’s just unfair. Every time Ron tries to come up with an idea, Hermione criticizes him or shoots him down. And the twins have done a fine job of intimidating Ron into remaining mediocre and modest so that he doesn’t remind them of Percy, so what is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to come up with ideas when he’s surrounded by people who basically tell him to shut up and sit down?

The essayist: Just then, Hermione comes out of the tent with cups of tea, with tears running down her face and looking terrified her “friend” is going to curse her with her own wand.

The commenter: So, Hermione will snarl at Ron all day long, but cower in fear when Harry gets mad. Is she projecting herself onto Harry and assuming that just because *she’s* quick to hex people who anger her (Ron, Marietta, etc.), Harry will do the same to her?

The essayist: The evidence is overwhelming that Molly Weasley treated Ron the worst of all her children.

The commenter: And blatantly showed favoritism to Harry while snarling at Ron in the same breath. Of course, Horcrux!Tom doesn’t bring that up, because JKR would have to admit that there might be something wrong with Molly favoring Harry the way she does. The essayist: Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron.

The commenter: Yeah…sorry, it’s not “slapstick” anymore when somebody actually has to stop her from hitting Ron. When Harry feels that the situation is dangerous enough that his intervention is necessary. That’s not funny. That’s a true-crime episode. What gets me is that Hermione's tantrum lasts for days. It goes on for several pages into the next chapter. She doesn't start acting normal again until she comes up with the idea of visiting Xeno Lovegood. The essayist: Hermione tells Ron she still hasn’t ruled out attacking him with birds again.

The commenter: *flatly* So, all of the fans who cooed about how “great” it was for Hermione to show “girl power” by sending Ron to the hospital wing in HBP or breezily dismissed the scene as just tired teenage melodrama? Can put a sock in it. Hermione has clearly learned nothing, JKR clearly feels that that scene was funny, and at no point are we supposed to think that Hermione is an abuser. Even though, if the genders were reversed, fans would be calling for Ron’s head on a platter if he dared lay a finger on Hermione. No. This isn’t funny. This isn’t charming. Hermione hurt Ron so badly in HBP that he had to go to the hospital wing. And she tried to repeat the damage she caused here. Is she going to attack him with birds again after they get married? Is she going to do it in front of their children? Will it be “cute” and “funny” then? No, if a man is an abusive monster for losing his temper and trying to hurt his girlfriend, then Hermione is an abusive monster for losing her temper and trying to hurt her boyfriend. Not only did Hermione land Ron in the infirmary with the first attack, but she wants to do it again at a time when they are on the run. She will NOT be able to take an injured Ron to Hogwarts infirmary, nor to St. Mungos. In other words - she intends for him to remain injured and stick with them while camping, or else he must apparate away while injured, risking another splinching so he could be healed.

...

The essayist: Ron and Harry go back to the tent, and Harry fades into the background so as not to interfere with the lovers’ reunion. That’s a mistake. After Harry wakes Hermione, she shows her delight at Ron’s return by--attacking him? She punches him over a dozen times while yelling at him and screaming for her wand from Harry. Remember last chapter, when I talked about how immature Hermione is? Here’s your proof.

[The essayist quotes an article that I haven’t been able to find, but paraphrased: it speaks of a father who came to pick up his 4 y/o daughter from daycare, a little later than usual, and the daughter reacted by punching and hitting her father, upset at his being late. Additional read:  “The parents must know that physical aggression is a common yet natural problem faced by toddlers.”]

The essayist: So there you have it: Hermione Granger, know-it-all supergirl, is so immature she acts like a preschool child when the boyfriend she’s been missing finally returns. I’m not suggesting she has a father-daughter relationship with Ron; this kind of anger is found in other relationships, too. What I am saying is that her way of expressing her anger is appropriate for a very young child. While adults may certainly feel this kind of anger and desire to hit when reunited with a loved one under similar circumstances, they don’t act it out. That restraint is what separates adults from children. Hermione acts so crazy Harry has to put a protection charm between her and Ron. I frankly found her behavior so out of control as to suggest mental instability. She engages in two full pages of histrionics before throwing herself into a chair, sitting so tensely I’m surprised the circulation isn’t cut off to her arms and legs. She remains in a bratty snit until the end of the chapter, which is another six pages.  Hermione is still pouting the next morning. I’m wondering if her real problem is not that Ron left, but that she didn’t. Is she angry at him because he had the guts to admit they were blowing it and take a time out, while she just kept trailing along after Harry like a lost house elf? I think she’s definitely mad because she’s always controlled Ron and their relationship. How dare he assert his independence of her! Who does he think he is? Her equal? In an AU, maybe. This is called the Potterverse after all, not the Ronverse.  Hermione’s having a bad month. First Ron runs out on them; then she saves Harry’s life, but he’s an ungrateful jerk about it; then Harry asserts his independence; then Ron comes back but doesn’t grovel sufficiently for her taste. All this mistreatment is going to give her the idea she’s just a normal character and not an Author’s Darling.   While Ron was gone, he was captured by bad guys called Snatchers, who are bounty hunters for Voldemort. In getting away, he got a spare wand, which he gives to Harry. Of course, it doesn’t work as well as Harry’s “real” wand, so Harry’s still in a snit about that, and with Hermione in a snit, too, they’re a cheerful bunch. Honestly, I don’t know why Ron puts up with these two. The Hs are so spoiled and self-centered, they deserve each other, but I don’t think this is what HP/HG shippers mean when they proclaim the two as an OTP. Sane, normal Ron doesn’t deserve either one of them. Run, Ron! Run while you still can!

...

The essayist: As an interesting aside, ròn is the Celtic word for seal. In Druid lore, seals represent love, longing, and dilemma. No more appropriate totem animal could be imagined for this boy whose sense of selfhood is undermined by his longing for love from a rejecting mother and inadequate father, and who, like the selchie wives of folklore, is faced with the impossible choice of being who he truly is and being rejected, or denying the best part of himself to gain love. Ron’s intelligence and independence threaten his insecure wife (and best friend), just as the selchie’s identity as a seal-woman threatens her human husband; Ron imprisons himself by hiding who he is so the Hs can feel smart and in charge, just as the selchie’s human husband imprisons his wife by hiding her sealskin in a trunk.

[greenygreenland]

Promise: Norman x Fem!Reader

-idk why but i’m having such a hard time writing pt 3 of Dream a Little Dream of Me, so here’s this to compensate for now

-i normally write for fem reader, but if you really wanted to, you could switch the words around in your head

-AGED UP characters because that’s been a trend in my work, so I’ll keep it constant

-just getting rid of drafts that have been sitting around for months

BRIEF MANGA SPOILERS, READ AT OWN RISK

Summary: Period cramps suck, and so does feeling burnt out and exhausted. Luckily, someone has just the remedy for you. This is after you all reach the Other Side. Emma is still missing.

Everything hurt--from your head to your shoulders to your knees and your toes. It was like someone flipped a switch. The other day, you were fine and dandy. There wasn’t a thing that could have swept you off your feet no matter how powerful the gust of wind. You were on top of the world.

Then your period started and you woke up with cramps that left you glued to the couch. It rained the day after, and when you dragged yourself out of bed to finish some work, you found that you just couldn’t. 

An invisible rope tethered you to the ground, and the fact that it was so heavy made your head spin. Am I good enough to complete this? Will I have enough time?

Your stomach ached and your head pounded. 

I can do this. I can do this.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

But why couldn’t you do it? The outlines for your essays and papers were long completed, and it wasn’t like you didn’t spread it evenly throughout the week. You always stuck to the schedule. To the last letter. To the absolute ‘t’. It was all you could do to remind yourself you had control over your unpredictable life. Yet now, why was it so hard to finish the job?

The cramps absolutely massacring your poor abdomen seemed to increase by ten fold, and the gentle sun shining through your window intensified into a raging fire.

The due date was five days from now. It seemed like a while away, but you knew it wasn't. That would fly by in a flash and leave you in the dust. If there was one thing that you took to heart from Mama, then it had to be the fact that time was precious. Without paying close attention to it, then you would surely go tumbling down a hill.

"(Y/n)?"

You buried your head in your hands miserably. "I can't do this. My stomach hurts so much and I can't focus", was what you wanted to say. Instead, it came out in a muffled groan of pain. “I...can’t...”

Norman waltzed over to your desk. His gentle hands settled around your slumped shoulders, encasing them in a much-needed warmth. You heaved out a long breath, sluggishly peeking out of your arms to get a good look at Norman's handsome face. He smiled lovingly and your knitted brows eased just a little.

"What do you need me to do?" he softly inquired. "I know it's that time." You huffed in thought, a weak smile twitching upon your lips. Of course Norman knew you had your period. He was always on top of his game. Always.

"So, do you need anything, love?" Norman patiently repeated. You stared into his bright eyes and melted. Calm. Caring. Sweet. Kind. That had to be one of your favourite things about him. He always had eyes that said what you wanted to hear. Whether it be, 'I love you' to 'I'm here', Norman always seemed to know what you needed.

This time was no different.

"You."

"Hm?"

"I want you."

Norman smiled and it was like the sun at Golden Hour. He took you by the hand and helped you over to your shared bed. A heavy sigh left your lips as soon as your back hit the soft bed. Norman placed a hand on your shoulder and tucked you in with him. "What's wrong?"

You shrugged.

"Hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Tired?"

You shook your head again.

Norman hummed to himself in thought. Papers lay on you desk, scattered in a mix of opened folders and half-baked diagrams. The unsharpened pencil perched at the edge of your desk centimeters from an immediate pit-fall to the waste bin. It wasn’t like you to leave everything laying about. Mama brought you up in the best way possible. She taught you that being neat and tidy were one of the most important things to do since it helped promote focus and calmness.

You weren’t one to let yourself slip like that, unless something were really bothering you. Norman’s gaze fell on your computer screen. It glowed brightly, slowly falling silent until the screen faded.

ELA ESSAY DUE MONDAY

The computer fell fast asleep, "Essay?" Norman echoed. You nodded and he pulled you close to his chest. College wasn’t easy when you couldn’t focus. Sometimes, Norman found himself dozing off. He worked just as much as you so that no one would have to borrow money from the Ratri Clan. It was a necessary sacrifice you both agreed on so no one else would have to suffer the horrors of high school and college combined.

It wasn’t that any of it was too hard, just that it was a lot of work.

After you both graduated, you’d make your own company, and from there, make a lot of money to support everyone.

"I'm guessing you're feeling burnt out.” Norman said. “You're almost done with the essay, but you haven't touched it since last night." He ran a hand through your hair. "And since your period came yesterday, you're not feeling too well. Do you want anything to drink?"

You muttered out a small no and Norman pursed his lips. He didn't know what to do because there wasn't much to do. Your stomach hurt, yes, that was bad, but he didn't know how to make you feel better when you probably weren't going to swallow pills without choking. Tea would help, but with the way you weren't moving, it would be impossible to drink.

"I wish I could help more." Norman muttered. "Maybe I should call Ray..."

You shook your head. "It's okay. Can you...keep talking?"

Norman's brows shot up. Of course! Talking would help you forget about your cramps and worries. Either that or you'd fall asleep! Perfect. Why didn’t he think of that?

"Have you read the book The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings?”

You shook your head. Back at the House, The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings were nothing more than those small books tucked away in the farthest reaches of the library. They were dusty old things, so you never bothered with them. It didn’t matter how bored you were of reading the same five books over and over again, those books were simply too dusty.

You recalled the time Ray playfully kicked at you. He told you to go away and stop complaining. Of course, you didn’t listen, and went on about how you hated (book).

“In those books, there are descriptions of this place called Hobbiton.” Norman spoke like he was reading a story. The way his voice flowed like water eased your nerves, reminded you that the present existed.

All you needed was a breather.

“Now,” Norman continued, “Hobbiton isn’t just a village or town. It’s a place where Hobbits live in holes in the ground. But these aren’t cold and dark. They’re cozy, with rounded doors and grass as green as an apple. Hobbits eat more than us, so they have different names for their meals. They’re mostly friendly people, and they’re open to tea time if you’re welcome in their homes. I heard that the movies were filmed in New Zealand. I’ll take you there on vacation, and we’ll bring Emma and Ray along too.”

You smiled against Norman’s chest. You wouldn’t like that, you’d love it. After staring at the same worksheets and papers, you needed a change of scenery. Somewhere far from here, just to get a breath of fresh air.

“Yeah.” you quietly said. “I’d love that.” Norman smiled and it was like an early birthday present. “When we find Emma, we’ll go to New Zealand and sightsee. We’ll see new places, and take lots of photos.” Norman stared at the peaceful look on your face. He pecked your cheek. “I promise.”

[onlyfreds]

Unravelling Love’s Mystery | F.W.

Title: Unravelling Love’s Mystery

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: Fred and Y/N had bad blood between them ever since their first year at College. But when they are partnered up for a project, what could go wrong?

A/N: This is my first time writing an enemies to lovers so, I hope I was able to give it justice.

In my opinion, love is the greatest mystery of all, probably even the mystery that no one can come to solve. It will always be a mystery on how two people fall in love, how two people come to have this mutual understanding and affection.

Love brings many emotions to a person: heartbreak, anger, a sense of longing, but those people who have found their one true love, they feel joy, peace, a sense of satisfaction.

And love can come to the most unlikely pair, who would have thought that two childhood best friends end up together? Who would have thought that your soulmate happened to be your grumpy boss?

In my case, I ended up with the most unlikely contestant, my sworn enemy, Fred Weasley.

The Psychology of Love, that was our lecture topic for today. Don’t get me wrong, it is quite an interesting topic. But there was one person in the whole universe who could make the tables turn, and that was an arrogant, stubborn, and increasingly annoying classmate of mine named Fred Weasley.

“Okay class.” Professor McGonagall started the lecture as the latecomers settled into the remaining seats, “As you may have figured out from your essay that is – in fact - due today, our lecture is about the Psychology of Love.”

She looked at all of us with a stern but gentle look, “Now, which one of you can tell me who developed the triangular theory of love?”

My hand, along with Fred’s, promptly shot up in the air. McGonagall looked at us, a bit bored, if you ask me, as it was always the two of us.

“Mr. Weasley.” She called.

Fred stood up, throwing me a smug smile from across the hall.

“American Psychologist, Robert Sternberg is the one who developed the triangular theory of love.” He answered, sitting back down when he finished.

I rolled my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest, wanting so badly to smack him at the back of the head with my textbook to wipe that smug smirk of his face.

“Very good Mr. Weasley! Now, who can state all the three components of love that can be found in Robert Sternberg’s theory?” Our Professor asked.

Fred’s hand and mine both shot up to the air again, we exchanged a challenging look. It was another race, another competition to prove who’s better, who’s the best. Because only one can be at the top.

“Ms. L/N.” McGonagall called.

Fred wore a defeated look as I stood up from my seat, “The three components of love is: intimacy – which is defined as the closeness between people in personal relationships -, passion – which is a strong liking or desire -, and lastly, commitment – or being dedicated to the relationship, in my opinion, it is the most important component. Because intimacy and passion won’t prevail if there is no commitment in the relationship.”

She smiled, “That’s a perfect answer Y/N! Very well explained!” She praised.

I sat back down as McGonagall started to discuss, not being able to help the proud smile on my lips.

“Any more questions?” Professor McGonagall asks as she ends her presentation. Silence spreading through the lecture hall.

“Okay then, now before I dismiss you, I’ll briefly discuss your project. You are to make your own theory about love and you will do it in pairs. And I already decided your partners for you. I will read them aloud right now. There will be no complaining and no switching of partners.”

She then pulled up a file on her laptop and started reading out loud the names of the partners. That was until she read the last pair of names.

“Fred Weasley and Y/N L/N.”

“What?!” I whispered, turning to my best friend, Hermione, who was sitting next to me.

“Did I hear correctly? Out of every single person in this lecture hall, I’m partnered up with Fred?”

She nodded, “Yes, you heard correctly.”

I groaned, sinking back into my seat, “This is officially the worst project ever.”

Ginny chuckled, patting me comfortingly on the shoulder, “Well, as much as I feel sorry for you Y/N. It’s not like you have a choice.”

Even if Ginny is Fred’s younger sister, she was nothing like her brother. To be honest, I was friends with all the Weasleys, except Fred. It’s actually hard to believe that he came from the same family.

I glanced over to the side and saw that Fred wore the same look of horror on his face as he ranted to his buddies.

I stood up, shouldering my backpack as I marched down the steps towards McGonagall’s desk, vaguely aware that Fred was hot on my heels.

“Professor.” I said, “You can’t do this to us.”

She raised a brow at us, “Do what?”

“Partner Y/N and I up together for the project.” Fred answered.

“Why is that?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer.

I sighed, fiddling with the strap of my bag, “Professor, you know how Fred and I feel towards each other.” I said, glancing at Fred.

He ran a hand through his hair, “I hate to agree with her Professor, but she’s right.”

McGonagall pursed her lips, “Well, you two will just have to work with it. Like I said, no switching partners. And may I remind you Mr. Weasley and Ms. L/N, that this project contributes to 60% of your final grade. So, it’s either you give both of your best or you both fail.” She said, before walking out of the door, leaving both Fred and I alone in the now deserted lecture hall.

Fred groaned as he leaned against the desk, “What are we going to do now.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest, “Well, it’s not like we can do anything about it. Unless you want to fail, of course.” I said, before walking out of the hall, in search of Hermione and Ginny.

--

“No matter what you do.” Hermione said, looking up from her project with Ron, “You can’t avoid it. So, go and get this whole thing over with. Unless you want to fail.”

It’s been a week since McGonagall gave the project, and Hermione was right.

I groaned, taking my stuff as I walked towards the door of our dorm, “Well, failing is never an option.” I said, as I headed towards the library, where Fred and I agreed to rendezvous.

“So, what should we do?” I asked, sitting down in the seat across him.

He shrugged, not bothering to look up from whatever he was writing, “Well, in case you weren’t listening, we are supposed to make a theory about love.”

I took out my textbook and my laptop, placing it in front of me, “Obviously I know that. What I’m asking is what is our theory?”

He shrugged again, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I asked.

He sighed, finally looking up from his work, “I thought you were smart.” He said sarcastically, “You can’t even understand something as simple as ‘I don’t know.’”

It took all of my willpower to bite back a retort, “Look Weasley, I am trying so hard to be nice to you. I don’t want to be here and neither do you. So, will you please stop being so arrogant and stubborn so we could get over with this?”

Fred scoffed, “Me? Being arrogant and stubborn? I’m sorry, but I’m trying my best to make this work because I don’t want to fail just because of a self-centered, ignorant little minx like you.”

“Me?” I said, “So, all of a sudden, it’s my fault? I don’t want to fail either Weasley. And I didn’t ask to be paired up with you. You think you’re so good and you’re so much better than anyone else! When in reality, there’s always someone better than you!” I spat as I abruptly stood up from my chair.

Fred followed suit, towering over me due to the difference in height, “Oh yeah? And who might that be? You?”

He scoffed, “Of course it’s you! It’s always you! You think you’re such a genius! You act so tough and strong but in reality, you’re a coward, you’re a failure. You think that you’re so perfect, that you’re so flawless. But let me tell you, you have flaws. Everyone has flaws.”

“So, you think you’re so perfect then.” I said, glaring up at him, feeling a rush of emotion crash down on me, all at the same time.

“At least I know that I could fail and I work hard to avoid that. You on the other hand, don’t. That’s the difference between the two of us.” He said, not backing down.

That was when it felt like the whole world was crashing down on my shoulders, that’s when I became overwhelmed, the stress, the emotions, the built-up anger caught up with me. The thick tension in the atmosphere around us started suffocating me.

I collapsed back into the chair I was sitting on earlier, burying my head in my hands, as I slowly broke down into tears.

I heard the chair next to me move as it scrapped against the metal floor.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I heard Fred’s voice ask, as he gently rubbed my back. I couldn’t come to believe that he was concerned for my well-being.

“Why do you care?” I asked in between tears.

“Because, no matter how much I despise you, my mum always told me that the worst thing a man can do to a girl is make her cry.” He said softly.

I looked up at him, a few tears still dripping down my cheeks, “Are you really concerned? Or you’re just looking for another reason to torment me?”

He smiled at me for the first time as I saw genuine concern in his eyes, “I’m really concerned.” He said, pulling me gently into a hug as I rested my head on his chest.

“So, why are you really crying?” He asked.

I took a deep breath, “I mean, I know I’m not perfect. Nobody is, but my biggest fear has always been failing. I’m an only child and when my parents found out that I’m academically gifted, it made me their greatest treasure, it made me their pride and joy. I’ve always been insecure about that, whether if I’m already good enough or not. And hearing somebody voice out those insecurities, felt a million times worst. That’s the reason why I’m always trying to one up you. Because, if I fail, I would go from my parents’ pride and joy to being the disappointment of the family in a split second. And it’s just so stressful. And with our little argument, I just got so overwhelmed by my emotions that I had to let it all out.” I explained.

At the back of my mind, I was aware of Fred’s demeanor changing in a snap. From the person I despised whom I was screaming at minutes ago, to the person who was now bringing me comfort. He handled me so gently in my fragile state, as if I was made of glass, that it would have been hard to recognize him as my sworn enemy.

To anybody who would pass by, they would’ve been so confused at the sight. Me with my head on Fred’s chest, as he comfortingly rubbed my back while his other hand gently ran through my hair as he apologized over and over again.

I just wanted to stay in our small bubble. I wouldn’t admit it out loud but, I like this side of Fred better, the quiet, caring, gentle side of him.

“We’re not so different after all.” He said, breaking the silence that lingered between the two of us.

“What do you mean?” I asked, slightly confused.

Fred started to explain, “The pressure that’s being put down on us. Well, you’ve met Bill, Charlie and Percy, right? Bill’s prefect and head boy and he’s got amazing grades. Charlie has a very successful business. And Percy is basically the epitome of the perfect student. So, this puts a lot of pressure on me. That, in order to make Mum and Dad happy, then I have to be just like them. That’s why I’m always trying to compete with you. So, we’re not that different after all.” He finished with a reassuring smile.

I looked up at him, offering a small smile, “You’re right. Why don’t we call a truce for now? And when the project’s finish and being friends doesn’t work out for us, then we can go back to our old ways.” I said, offering my hand.

He took it and gave it a small shake, “Deal. And don’t you hate agreeing with me?”

I shook my head, “No. Because: one, I like this side of you better. And two, you do have a point.”

“Falling for me already L/N?” He teased.

I laughed, shaking my head, “In your dreams Weasley.”

We then started to work, sharing our ideas and concepts and working it out together.

We decided to call it a day when it was around 1 in the morning.

“So, we’ll rendezvous same place tomorrow?” I asked.

He nodded, “Sure.” Then he started fidgeting with the strap of his bag.

“Is there anything wrong?” I asked, seeing his nervousness.

He gave a shy smile, “Well, it’s just that your dorm is 6 blocks from here. And I just don’t want you to walk out there alone. So, if you want, you can stay at my dorm for the night, I’ll even sleep on the couch. But, if you’re not comfortable with that, then I could always walk you home.”

I chuckled, “Should I be suspicious if you have any hidden agenda on taking me back to your dorm?” I joked.

Fred laughed, raising his hand in mock surrender, “I have no such intentions. I’m only worrying about your safety. Like I said, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I smiled, “Okay then. I’ll just send a quick text to Hermione so she wouldn’t worry about my whereabouts.”

I took out my phone, searching for Hermione in my contacts and sending a text to her.

>Hey ‘Mione. I’m not coming home tonight. I’ll be staying the night at Fred’s place.

I received her reply immediately.

>Woah, woah, I thought you despised him and his whole existence? What made you want to stay the night at his place?

<We called a truce, see how being friends works out for the both of us. Turns out we’re similar in a lot of ways.

>Yeah, and that includes staying the night at his dorm?

<Hermione, I’m ready to give him the benefit of the doubt. He deserves a chance. Besides, he swore that he has no hidden agenda and he’ll be sleeping on the couch.

I blushed as I read her reply, secretly hoping that Fred didn’t notice.

>Okay, I’m not saying that you’re making a reckless decision. But, at least the two of you are putting your differences aside. Who knows? You two might end up together.

>Hermione!

<What? I’m just saying ;)

“So,” Fred said, standing by my side a bit awkwardly, “What did she say?”

I licked my lips, “She’s fine with it.”

He grinned, “Okay then, let’s get going then.”

When we arrived at his dorm, it was more organized than I expected it to be.

“Your roommate is George, right?” I asked, placing my bag on a nearby chair.

He nodded, “Yeah. But he’s at Angelina’s dorm, so we basically have the place to ourselves.”

He headed to his room, coming out with a sweater and a pair of shorts in his grasp, then handing them to me.

“The bathroom is down the hall to the left.” He said as I gave him a grateful smile.

After I had changed, Fred had already set up his makeshift bed on the couch.

I bit my lip as I pulled my hair back into a messy bun, I felt like this was too much. I know that Fred was trying to make a good impression on our new-found friendship, but I didn’t want to abuse his kindness.

“Fred, I appreciate that you’re trying to make a kind gesture, but I’ll take the couch.” I said, gently.

He shook his head, a small smile on his lips, “No, it’s fine. I insist.”

I placed my hand on top of his, “You’re already letting me stay here for the night. So, I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. Let me be the one who’s doing something for you other than glare and bicker.” I joked.

He laughed, “Okay, fine. But just because that I have a feeling that if we go on, we’ll never meet the end.”

After turning the lights off, we then took the break we both can agree we deserve.

--

I woke up at 5 am, surprisingly, the couch was extremely comfortable and I haven’t felt this rested ever since my first year of College.

I stretched for a bit, for the first time in my life, I felt lazy. Turning onto my side, giving myself five more minutes of peace and tranquility before I had to get up. I took a deep breath, inhaling the lingering scent of Fred from the sweater I was wearing, which just added to the calm atmosphere in my little bubble of relaxation.

Five minutes transitioned into an hour, that’s when I knew that I really had to get up.

I slowly walked to Fred’s room, opening the door a bit to take a peek inside.

The ginger was still fast asleep, his hair sticking up in all directions while his soft snores bounced of the walls of the room.

I leaned against the door frame, vaguely aware of the small smile that had seem to grow on my lips. I had to admit, he looked kind of cute.

I headed to the kitchen, deciding to cook some breakfast for the two of us.

“Smells good.” Fred said as he emerged from his room an hour later, just as I had finished cooking.

He sat at the table as I slid his plate of pancakes in front of him.

He raised a brow, “Should I be suspicious if you have any hidden agenda in making me pancakes?” He asked, quoting my words from the previous night.

I laughed, sitting down on the seat across him, “Not at all. Just think of it as a token of my appreciation.”

He then took a bite as I watched him closely in anticipation.

“It’s better than anything I’ve ever had before.” He said with a small grin.

I breathed out a breath that I hadn’t realized that I was holding in, “Thank goodness.” I said.

“You know,” Fred said a few moments later, “For someone who I’ve been on bad terms with ever since our first year of College, you’re an amazing cook.”

I chuckled, “It’s kind of funny isn’t it? We’re in our last year of College and we’ve done nothing but spend the last three years bickering and all that stuff.”

The door of Fred’s dorm suddenly flew open as George stepped in.

“Hey Freddie, I’m home! Woah.” He was suddenly taken aback at the sight of Fred and I sitting at the dining table.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” He said, “Because I am seeing the two of you in the same room and there’s no tension in the air.”

I smiled, “Yeah, we decided to call a truce to work on the project and we would see how being friends works out for the both of us.”

“You’ve got to try her pancakes mate.” Fred piped in, “There’re the best you’ve ever tasted.”

George took the fork that his brother offered him, “Merlin! I never knew you were a cook Y/N.”

I chuckled, “It’s just something I work on in my free time.”

“Looks like being friends would work out in more than one way for the both of you.” He said with a small wink.

After breakfast, Fred walked me back to my dorm, because we both knew how much of a worry-wart Hermione can get.

“So, I’ll be seeing you in the library later?” He asked.

“You bet.” I said, before entering my dorm.

Hermione and Ginny were waiting for me inside, to my surprise, they didn’t bombard me with questions.

“So, how was giving Fred the benefit of the doubt?” Hermione asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

I shrugged, plopping my bag down on the couch, “It was pretty good.”

Ginny placed her chin on her hand while her elbow rested on the table, “A little birdy told me that you cooked breakfast for Fred.”

I playfully rolled my eyes, “Let me guess, the birdy was named George. And yes, I did make breakfast for Fred and I. It was just a token of my appreciation.”

“Yeah, right.” Hermione muttered under her breath with a small smile.

“I heard that Hermione.” I said, causing the two of them to burst out into laughter.

--

We only had a week left to complete the project.

Fred and I were sitting in the library, laptops running, there was almost no more space on the table with the number of books that were opened on top of it.

As I was drafting out the key points in our theory, when Fred tapped me on the shoulder, handing me a cup of coffee.

“Thanks.” I said, taking the cup from him and taking a small sip, “How much is it?”

“It’s on me.” He said, “You already paid for the printing of the project, the least I could do was get you some coffee.”

We sat in silence for a few more minutes, the sound of the typing on the keyboard being the only noises that could be heard.

“So, what happens to us after this project?” Fred suddenly asked.

I stopped typing, looking up at him, “Well, it looks like being friends seem to be working out for us.”

Fred chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, I actually kind of like it when you’re smiling and you’re not shooting me glares and stuff.”

“Ditto.” I said, “Ever since I’ve discovered your soft and sweet side, I don’t want that to change.”

“But is being friends enough for us? What if one of us wants more?” He asked.

I looked at him, slightly confused, “What do you me-“ but my sentence was suddenly cut short, when he crashed his lips to mine.

I placed my hand at the back of his neck, pulling me closer to him as he rested his hands on my waist.

He then lifted me up and set me down on a free space on the table, kissing me as if there was not tomorrow.

We pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, both of us blushing like mad.

“That’s what I mean.” He whispered, “Because I love you. More than a friend, more than my enemy. I want you and nobody else but you. So, will you be mine?”

I giggled, pulling him in for another kiss before answering, “I’d love nothing more than to be yours.”

--

“Unravelling Love’s Mystery.” Professor McGonagall read the title of our theory as Fred and I stood in front of her.

Class has already been dismissed, the three of us being the only ones left in the room.

“Your theory was very interesting.” She complimented, “Especially since you two found it fit to insert your own love story in it.”

Fred and I smiled, “Well Professor, we thought that it went with the central theme of the theory.”

McGonagall offered us a smile, “The two of you have the most outstanding project in the class. I have graded it with full marks.” She said.

I felt Fred interlock our hands together, “Thank you Professor.” We both said.

Then Fred placed an arm around my waist, placing a kiss on my temple, “As much as we would love to stay and chat Professor, we have to go so we don’t miss our date at the movies.”

Our professor laughed, “Go on ahead, don’t let me stop you. I have been working at this institution for years, but the two of you are the cutest couple I have ever seen.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting​ ​ @wand3ringr0s3​ ​ @famdomhideout​ ​ @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff​ ​​  @pandaxnienke​ ​​ @escapingrealitybyreading​ (If you are crossed out, that means I can’t tag you)

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

⤷ chapter three: puppy face

previous < masterlist > next

“I just don’t understand… how can ya stay in this hell hole for so many hours?” Atsumu exasperatedly sighed for the umpteenth time as he sulked on the seat across you. Says the one who’s often stuck in the gym, aka 'hell hole' to me, practicing volleyball, you thought.

Opting to keep your mouth shut to prevent any banter with him, you only rolled your eyes at his rather dramatic antics, starting to feel quite annoyed with how he was distracting you from the novel you were currently trying to read.

Realizing your indifference, he huffed and began tugging on the ends of your uniform’s sleeves, “Y/N! Come on, let’s go home.”

Like a child beginning to be scared of his mother, he gulped upon seeing your eyes twitch. Oh god, I am utterly sorry, he mentally prayed as his tugs began to slow down in fear.

“If you hate the library so much, why did you insist on going home with me? I could’ve gone with Kiyoomi,” you were filled with confusion when his eyes suddenly lit up, as if he remembered something important the moment you asked him about his reason. He, finally, released his hold of you and began rummaging through his sling bag.

“Ah! Here, here… take a look of this! Ta-da!” he exclaimed when he took out what looked like a flyer for the upcoming campus festival. You looked at him with amusement as he shoved it into your hands, eyes sparkling like an excited puppy as he watched you scan the piece of paper.

“Looking for… a playwright?” you slowly uttered, eyebrows furrowed when he nodded, “you want me to be a playwright for the play of the theater department?”

“Yes! Isn’t that a bit obvious? Unless ya want to be one of the actors on stage?” you pursed your lips, reminding yourself to be patient and not get irked with his ‘trying-to-be-a-smartass’ response.

Thus, you just handed him the flyer back and shoo your head ‘no,’ surprising him because he seriously thought you would agree in a heartbeat. You stood up and grabbed your things, I need to go home before this foolishness worsens any further.

“What do ya mean no?! Y/N! This is a one-time opportunity!” he whined as he followed you, listing endless reasons why you should say yes to his request. More like a once a year opportunity, not one time, idiot.

You let out an annoyed sigh and turned to him, glaring so hard he almost whimpered. Nonetheless, he backed away when you stomped over to him.

“I am way too busy for those things, Tsum! Besides, I want to be a BOOK writer… not a playwright!” you groaned at his confused face, making it way too obvious that he didn’t even know consider anything when he grabbed the flyer.

“Is there even a difference between those two? I mean… ya will still become a writer though,” he pouted, scratching his nape and shrugged. You gaped at him in disbelief, I swear to god, this kid must be nuts.

“Of course, there is a difference! Books do not work the same as theatrical plays, baka! And like I said… I’m too busy for all those shits.”

You went back to briskly walking, thanking the heavens when the apartment you and Kiyoomi shared with them finally came into view. Once again, he sulked as he followed you with his back slouched, like a puppy kicked by its owner.

“What is she even busy with? As far as I can remember, she finished her essay days ago,” he whined to his twin as they lounged in the kitchen bar, initially talking about their volleyball plays before it turned to Atsumu-rants-about-you moment again. Osamu only looked at him with a somewhat disinterested look, shaking his head at Atsumu’s idiocy.

“You do know she’s busy with writing her book, right?” He monotonously asked the blonde who only looked back with bewilderment. Ah, knew it, this boy is really an idiot sometimes.

“But… but she’s still in college?! And she’s broke… What is she thinking… writing her own book? Can she even afford the publishing if it ever happens,” Atsumu grumbled as he played with the flyer that was still lying on the table in front of them.

The grey-haired lad only shrugged, she loves writing as much as you love volleyball, there’s technically no difference between the two of you.

“That’s probably the exact reason, you know. As early as possible, she wants to gain her reputation as an official writer. Or maybe she wants to earn money while doing what she loves. Or... I don’t know. Ask her,” Osamu suggested, quite expectant deep inside that his twin will listen to his advice. He silently cheered when the blonde hummed in agreement, grabbing the flyer before trudging towards the direction of your room.

He just hopes that Atsumu will not be more than the idiot he already is.

“Don’t you think I should punch that dummy so he realizes the truth? I want to do it more and more each day that passes,” this time, your twin brother asked as he entered the kitchen area. Osamu could see bits of irritation swimming in Kiyoomi’s eyes as he went back to cooking your dinner.

“I hope it won’t get to that point though, Kiyoomi. Violence is never the answer after all.”

You stared in your laptop’s screen, mind flying in all directions as you tried to finish one of your homeworks. I need to get back to writing the book, you thought… but then Atsumu’s puppy face as he begged you to agree flashes in your mind for the umpteenth time that night. You loudly groaned in frustration, rubbing your face in distress.

Damn the soulmate bond that’s making you impossible to refuse him and his requests.

“Gosh! This is so frustrating! Why does he have to be my sou–”

“Was my suggestion that bad for ya?” you yelped in surprise as you turned around, finding your one and only soulmate leaning against your doorway. He snickered at your face before sauntering towards your bed, plopping face down as he spoke, voice muffled by your pillow.

“I can’t hear you, baka,” you commented as you watched him fondly when he turned his head to you; that damned puppy face staring at you with the same fond look.

“Yer right, I'm an idiot. I just had this foolish idea that maybe you’d like to write for them. The idiot in me really thought they’re just the same thing so I said ‘Ah, this can be a stepping stone for Y/N if the play becomes a hit to people even those outside the campus!’ Now, I realized I was wrong,” he sheepishly explained while you giggled, shaking your head at his silliness.

“It’s alright. I kinda figured that’s what you wanted…” you smiled as he nodded, eyes lighting up when he realized you’re no longer frustrated at him. Unbeknownst to him, your insides were in a dilemma as you contemplated, “… is the offer still up though?”

“Huh?”

“I said… is your offer still up? Cause I think I’d like to give it a try,” you let out another laugh when he nodded excitedly, jumping up as he approached you for a hug but you help up a hand. He gave you a look of confusion, gulping once more when a devilish smile slowly formed on your face.

“In one condition; you… audition as one of the actors.”

Had you known what was about to happen, you wouldn't have even thought of agreeing to him.

[writeblrfantasy]

*Breathes a bit of enablement at your general direction* go on, I’m curious 👀

*inhale* thank you for enabling me

i read the whole of return of the thief, the last in the queen's thief series yesterday, and i am still heavily feeling the end of my second favorite series ever so here you go

literally no one is going to appreciate this but me unless there's the rare queen's thief/nightrunner fan somewhere (if so hi!!)

spoilers for all these books btw but the fandoms are obscure and tiny so i don't think it'll be a problem

1. page 219-233 of the king of attolia by meghan whalen turner (aka the dressing down scene)

god, this is my favorite scene of any book of all time and i really don't know where to start, or how to end. first of all. eugenides is a genius and so is his placement of costis as basically a fly on the wall this entire book, with the entire purpose of his proximity and his character arc to change his mind about gen to get to teleus.

i mean, the layers of deception here, costis' temple earthquake metaphor that comes as he slowly dawns on what's happening, gen tricking sejanus and then talking with dite, philo's conscience starting this whole scene (if you haven't read rott, i apologize to you in advance)

also, costis seeing the real eugenides and being scared as hell for a moment, as everyone is when they see the real him. just...there is layer after layer here and i could go on about this scene for hours but i won't.

i just think there's something beautiful about no one ever truly knowing the extent of gen's genius mind. having just finished rott, i am feeling that especially.

2. page 252-257 of a conspiracy of kings by meghan whalen turner (the sophos shoots the ambassador scene)

i mean, this scene is loved by not just me, but the literal characters in the books, and it's iconic. it features that same eugenides (and attolia) genius, sophos hiding things from the reader, which is one of my favorite writing devices and probably my favorite thing about queen's thief, such as how he looks when he smiles.

i love books with complicated webs of political intrigue, and everything about that scene is it for me. sophos carefully calculating where he's going to shoot and who, gen giving him the gun in the deep coat pocket, "i made the king," just all of it is gorgeous. sophos is super calm when he's doing his unveiling scenes like gen is.

and of course, the line to finish, "they elected me sounis unanimously," is badass as hell.

3. page 496-503 of traitor's moon by lynn flewelling (my favorite book of all time) (aka the Explanation scene)

yes, there is a Lot going on, i mean it literally explains the whole plot of the book, and the first time i read it i didn't entirely get it. but now i read it and just...there's less genius and hiding things from readers in nightrunner but i love how rock solid alec and seregil's argument is, how they've pretty much taken everything into account, and i just love scenes like this where the smug culprit gets got.

close runners up are the "gen, you viper" and the "where you would be if you could be anywhere in the world right now?" scenes in the thief, and the scene in a conspiracy of kings where sophos reveals he knew where his sisters and mother were all along.

i really hope a queen's thief fan sees this and i'm not just shouting into the void haha

again, thank you for giving me the opportunity to ramble <3 this essay has been living in my head for four years

[rohondra]

Firsts || Izuku Midoriya

a/n: this is for another bnharem discord collab!! the prompt was “Pen Pals”. I’m pretty content with how this came out and I’m super excited to write a bit more considering I got a computer!! I’m hoping to do a pt2 hehe. god bless the people in my haikyuu server who swooped in and saved the day every time I had a brain far. 

rating: n*fw 18+

word count: just over 2k

warnings: virgin!Reader, daddy kink yes again ok I have a problem, FaceTime sex, mutual masturbation, big buff Izuku

all characters are aged up when I write and I take no credit for the images I post w said writings unless stated otherwise.

PLEASE CHECK OUT EVERYONES AMAZING FICS FOR THIS COLLAB!!!

A notification from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Field Office Discord server you were a part of popped up on your phone. It was an announcement that they would be randomly selecting pen pals as an event to get people more connected during this pandemic, of course you had the option to opt out, but the idea of doing something so “risky” excited you. You held your breath and reacted with a thumbs up, butterflies instantly flooding your stomach.

Just under an hour later one of the admins sent you a pm;

-Hey! Thanks so much for joining our penpals event. Social distancing is a pain in the ass, but hopefully this will lighten your spirits! We paired you with @/izuku#2485. Xx

Being the nosy son of a bitch you were, you immediately typed his user into the server and checked his activity within it- specifically the “#pictures” channel, but found nothing. Just as you were about to send him a friend request, you got a notification of another pm.. Oddly enough from him;

-Hi, we got paired for the penpal event! It’s okay if you don’t want to send your address to a complete stranger, I get it haha.

The butterflies returned as you pressed the request button, and immediately saw it change from “pending” to “send message”.

~Hi! If I’m honest it’s just my college address lol, nothing too risky.

-College huh? Me too. I was afraid you were going to end up being a minor and then I’d feel kind of weird ha. What school?

~Do not fear, I am in fact legal. Even if it is by 8 months lol. ASU! Yourself?

-Arizona huh? Interesting, I’m actually finishing my senior year at Iowa State.

Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing through your veins at the last message. Senior?! What if this guy was like, 40?? No, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be living on campus at that age.. But he never specified he was living in a dorm. You closed Discord and moved onto what seemed to be the never ending flood of assignments, two of which were due that night.

A notification popped up on your computer mid essay;

-Don’t wanna be pushy. Here’s my address if you decide to write me.(:

You chewed at your bottom lip, weighing the consequences. It couldn’t be that bad of an idea right? He seemed nice, not pervy at all.. Fuck it.

“Hello! It’s your good old pal from the Marvel server. If I'm honest I'm not that good at these things, haha. This letter will be pretty short, but tell me- who’s your favorite Marvel character? Feel free to gush! I’m looking forward to hearing back from you.

From,

Y/N”

-

Two weeks later your RA slipped the envelope under your door, “MAIL!!!” she yelled before hurrying to the next room to deliver. Your heart fluttered as you opened it, admiring his clean handwriting;

“Hi. Alls good, I’m pretty awkward myself ha. My name is Izuku Midoriya! My friends call me Deku. Y/N is a nice name.

Honestly, it’s kind of cliche but Captain America has to be my favorite. I’m a bit of a Marvel junkie. I’ve seen every movie, have the entire Captain America comic series, own a Marvel Encyclopedia, plus almost every Marvel funko pop they’ve released.. Now that I think of it I’m definitely more than “a bit” obsessed ha. How about you? If it’s easier for you, you could just message me on discord.

-Izuku”

You giggled as you opened the app on your phone.

~Hi! I just got your letter. Seems to me you’re DEFINITELY obsessed lol but that’s okay, me too. I’m obsessed with Captain America. Chris Evans? *cheff kiss*”

-Hey. That’s so funny! I aspire to look like him one day haha. Taking it one day at a time, but this pandemic is making it difficult rip. You wanna add me on snapchat? I probably came off as some creepy perv ha. @/deku_zuku.”

From that point on, you two became OBSESSED with each other. Deku was an extremely gorgeous, freckled man with colored, fluffy green hair. You thought your sleep schedule was already fucked because of the pandemic? Sike, now it really was. You were staying up until 5am snapchatting him, interacting with him on discord, texting him, etc. You just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Your favorite snapchats from him were his post workout selfies. You loved the way his skin glistened, his muscular body littered in scars and freckles. More often than not you screenshot them and definitely got off to them, but you could never tell him that. It was embarassing to think about how most nights you laid in bed pumping a dildo inside of yourself desperately calling his name, imagining it was him fucking your tight virgin pussy.

As you were getting lost in imagining scenarios your phone began ringing, oh fuck he was FaceTimeing you.

You quickly sat up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and setting your phone against a book for support before answering.

“H-hi! Sorry I wasn’t expecting you to FaceTime me ha.”

Izuku grinned ear to ear, “No I’m sorry! I should’ve asked first, but you look great so I mean.. No complaints from me with how you look.”

Red tinted your cheeks, “A-ah thank you. You’re pretty good looking yourself.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed, “Did I catch you at uh- a bad time?”

You tilted your head in confusion, “No? I mean I was trying to catch up on some stuff but other than I wasn’t doing anything important.”

“Ha, that looks pretty important. You also look a little flushed.”

When your eyes followed his on your screen your cheeks immediately lit on fire and you shifted to cover the dildo you carelessly left on the parallel night stand.

“So that’s why you’ve been screenshotting my pictures huh? I never would’ve taken Y/n to be such a slut.” he smirked.

He could feel his cock begin weep at the sight, he couldn’t help but palm himself. What if you got off to him? Thinking about how your little moans might sound when they slip out of your mouth made his cock pulse, he wanted to make you moan. He wanted to be the reason you came undone.

You tried to defend yourself, slightly annoyed by the derogatory term he referred to you as, “I- no. It isn’t like th-”

He cut you off, his voice having dropped an octave, “It’s okay baby, tell me what you think about.. I wanna hear what gets you off with those pictures.”

Hands came up to cover your face, you felt like you were going to puke- this was too embarrassing. His screen went to “paused” and you heard shuffling from his end. Within seconds you received a picture of Izuku in the mirror, his large hand barely covering his erect penis and his shirt between his teeth. He chuckled, “How about now princess? What makes that pretty pussy tighten around your toy?”

Slick slipped from your previously abused cunt, he sounded so delicious and looked even more delicious. When you spoke, your voice came out as a squeak, “I-I uh, I can’t tell you! It’s embarrassing.” If you could light on fire, it would’ve already happened. In fact, you wish you could. If you’re lucky the entire dorm might catch ablaze as well so all evidence is ruined.

A deep chuckle echoed from your phone speaker, “Embarrassed? It’s not like you’re a blushing virgin baby.”

There was a pause as you lowered your hands, your nose scrunched from the humility and one eye shut, “.. And if I told you I was?”

Izuku felt his member pulse yet again, precum gliding from his slit. That almost sent him over the edge, there was no way someone as breathtaking as you hadn’t been with anyone. Fuck, he could take your innocence and ruin you for any other man. He could make you his own and have you milking his thick cock every night, screaming his name and begging for more.

A meak sigh pulled him from his fantasies as you spoke up, “Sorry if that makes me less appealing.” He was quick to follow up, “N-no. God no. That,” he sighed,” fuck that’s honestly hot.”

Boldness coursed through him as his hand lazily pumped his shaft, “That just means I can be all your firsts.. Here, give me a minute.”

Your heart sank for a minute when the FaceTime ended, but fluttered once again when another call from him came through. This time though, it was from his laptop. He smirked before rolling back in his computer chair, his cock twitching against his stomach anxious for attention.

Desire burnt within him at the sight of you, eyebrows raised and eyes enlarged with pupils blown while you licked your lips. Izuku couldn’t help as his hand encircled his shaft once again, “What is it you think about baby? Me kissing and licking all over your body? My fingers pumping in and out of you while my tongue plays with your nipple?” He began a generous pace of pumping himself before his next taunt, “Maybe my tongue playing with your clit?”

A soft moan fell from your lips as you nodded, “A-all of that. ‘Zuku c-can I please touch myself?” You gasped as you watched precum flow from his tip at your words. He nodded, “Please do.”

You sat back, lifting your hips just enough to slip your panties off, nervously looking at him. All caution was thrown to the wind when Izuku groaned, “Ah, be a good girl for me baby.”

You made sure your full body was in view before grabbing the toy and lowering it between your thighs, which were now covered in a thin layer of your arousal. Squeezing your eyes shut you opened your legs and gently pushed until the dildo was fully sheathed inside of you.

Opening your eyes you were greeted with the most sinful sight, Izuku Midoriya quickly gliding his hand up and down his cock with his chest heaving, his body sheen with sweat.  You let a high pitched moan, your name resonating slowly from his chest. With every thrust your wrist made, a coil began to form inside your belly, it all seemed so familiar but was far more exhilarating knowing that someone else was watching.

“Just think about when that’ll be my cock splitting you in half. Shit- close your eyes for me, start playing with your clit and imagine it's me.” You nodded in response, unable to form words.

Obeying his command, it felt like electricity struck you when your finger made contact. The coil was now fully formed and threatened to burst with every movement.

“I need to cum, p-please.”

“Yeah? Only if you beg for daddy to let you.” He smirked as he watched your thighs tense for a moment.

“A-ah.. please! Please let me finish. Please d-daddy, need to so bad.”

Izuku felt his orgasm quickly approaching with each shaky word spilling from your beautiful lips, “Yeah baby, you can cum now. Let me see the pretty faces you make.”

SNAP

You were gone, your body lost to the ocean of ecstacy ripping through you as you rode the waves of your release.

He sat forward, studying the way your face contorted and how your cunt sucked the toy in as far as possible. The thought of you milking the absolute hell out of his cock sent him over the edge, head thrown back with spurts of cum covering his beautifully toned chest and stomach.

Eyes twitched trying to focus from the intensity of your orgasm as you came down from euphoria.

As Izuku  began cleaning himself off he spoke up, “So you’ve genuinely never done that kind of stuff before?” You shook your head before sitting up to sling a large t-shirt over your body, “Nope, when I said I was a virgin I mean like V I R G I N.”

He shook his head and chuckled, “Crazy. I have some assignments I need to do, if you want you could keep me company?”

You pulled a pillow under your chin and hugged it.  “I have some work to do too, so I guess that’ll work.” You giggled. He twirled a pen between his fingers before bringing it up to chew on, “And once we call it quits for the evening, how about we check off some more ‘firsts’ for you?”

[mccupidscruelty]

Mikasa x gn! reader

Modern AU!

School AU!

Hanahaki disease AU!

Genre: hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.3k

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April 22nd

It was her.

With her always styled raven hair and grey eyes that you could swear you can see a galaxy in. Her headphones that she always wears, never ruining her hair. The way she looked absolutely gorgeous in anything she wore. I mean, who wouldn't fall in lovr? Honestly, she was just so perfect. The only problem was that she's already in love. She never actually said that, and knowing it was wrong to assume, yet, you still couldn't think anything else that would give you hope, because hoping never ends well.

Every time she would look at him you had lost a bit of hope, so now you just don't have it at all. You remembered your mother telling you to not loose hope yet here you were feeling hopeless, and that's exactly how you always felt when something went wrong. Giving up was bad, but easier than trying and you knew you would have to change that way of thinking. But you didn't know how. That's why you didn't even try.

You sigh as you walked in the school hall to greet your best friend. "Hey Mikasa!" you said as cheerfully as you can. She looked at you and smiled warmly, like she does only when she's with you "Hi y/n" her calm voice was so sweet, full of admiration. "Have you finished the essay?" your head shot up in realization.

You did start doing it but certain someone got into your head and you couldn't finish it. Sighing you said "I haven't finished it, but I did write most of it, so I'll just finish it on Geography" little laugh had left her at your answer and Mikasa gave you a look that slowly turned into a closed eye smile.

"You know, one day the teacher will see that you're not focusing on lesson" hearing her say that it was your turn to let out a small laugh "Well, she never noticed me sleeping and I've been doing that for about 2 years now" ending your conversation you realized you've been standing in hallway for ten minutes so you went into classroom.

April 28th

You came back home barely there were preparations for the Golden week. You sat at your table and drawing. You were just drawing, without any actual idea or whatever, just letting yourself express your emotions. What came out was a drawing of Mikasa, even on drawing you look so good you thought as you sigh and lied on your bed. Schools aren't working for a week due to Golden week so there weren't any plans on your list. The thoughts in your head soon were replaced with Mikasa's closed eye smile and you felt a tear on your cheek. You had just loved her too much

For the rest of the week you had felt so ill that you weren't even able to get out of your bed. It didn't matter anyway, the bed was your safe space anyway, not like you wanted to leave it. In bed you can cry as much as you want, nobody cares. Crying because of extreme pain due to being ill, or crying because of your one-sided love? You didn't know, you just cried.

May 5th

You felt extremely ill but your parents weren't seeing you serious so you had to go to school anyways. Being late on your first class you just sat down at your table. Looking at you extremely worried Mikasa was about to tap your shoulder until teacher interrupted her and told you all to focus.

After class she looked at you with visible worry in her eyes. "Hey? Are you fine? You seem kinda ill" you stared at her lips as the words slipped out of her mouth. You were about the answer when suddenly you started coughing. Your lungs were in pain, your eyes shut and Mikasa went up to you and started petting your back. "You are ill, aren't you?" you looked up to her as you stopped coughing "eh, probably" you brushed it off with a little laugh and then you heard the bell ringing so you prepared for the next class.

Throughout the class Mikasa was looking at you worriedly, not knowing what happened to her best friend. Out of nowhere you started coughing again, it was reaping your lungs out while you were lying you're okay every time someone asks you.

Only person that could ever tell when you were lying was Mikasa herself. She knew you better than you know yourself, except for that fact. She felt that something was off, but couldn't tell what. Knowing that something was wrong was tearing her apart, but she couldn't know anything unless you told her, and it didn't help that you yourself, didn't know why you were coughing.

The day went pretty normal afterwards with a few times you just starting coughing and everyone looking weird at you. At one point you went to bathroom alone and looked at yourself. "Do I have hanahaki? No,, that's not possible, that's a myth" you were trying to convince yourself yet it didn't work at all. You said a few more times 'it's just a myth' and then you left the bathroom.

When you left bathroom and went to the classroom Mikasa immediately asked you where you were actually sounded worried as she looked up from her book "I went to the bathroom, nothing much" it was hard faking a happy tone when your throat was burning and you knew Mikasa didn't fell for it even tho she nodded anyways.

You went home and laid on your bed thinking about her. How her eyes perfectly match her hair, and how her headphones she always wear when entering school never ruin her hair

How she looks good in whatever she's wearing, her boring eyes complimenting her entire look.

She was so perfect, everything about her seemed magical. Even everything she did, it was perfect. Her tea was the best tea anyone could ever have, and the way she would buy you candy and smile warmly at you, it would always melt your heart. The way she looked at your orbs giving you butterflies every time because goddamn hers were were beautiful.

"Okay we got it her eyes are beautiful, stop thinking about them" saying that to yourself didn't help because you continued thinking just about them. Listening to music a single tear slid down your cheek remembering that she won't ever be yours, and you'll never had that perfect romance people secretly dream about

Then, out of nowhere, you started coughing, you started coughing so bad and when you opened your eyes you saw 2 single petals. Your eyes widened with tears still in them "I- I thought this was a myth" your voice was so shaky, and you were so scared.  "wasn't this supposed to be her favorite color? This is mine favorite." your orbs widen at realization, but went back to normal fast it's just a coincidence with that thought you fell asleep.

The next day

As you woke up you met your eyes with the petals that reminded you of what's happening. You have a hanahaki disease, and it's because of Mikasa, but again you were happy it was her and not somebody else. You got ready for school quickly and arrived just in time of your class.

Finding her eyes looking at you with worry you gave her closed eyed smile and turned towards board. And she was glad you turned away so you didn't see her blush. Smiling to herself she focused on board as well. She was still worried about you, a lot but she just couldn't let it ruin the little moment you shared. Bell rang, and next thing you knew Sakura was right in front of you. You immediately blushed and internally cursed yourself.

"Hey y/n" "Hm? Oh, hey Mikasa!" Her face was so close to your's, your noses were almost touching, but then she sighed and pulled away. A smile creeped way onto her face and she asked "Are you Okay? You seem a bit down, and you're either late at school or like come a full minute before classes."

Making a pause she continued "Not to judge, but like you're usually at school pretty early" Sighing, you said a complete lie "I am just tired, nothing to worry about, but I am staying up on phone and then I oversleep" Mikasa againbknew you were lying, but she decided not to push you any further, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. The bell rang and she sighed "Okay then, we should get ready for class" You smiled and nodded.

In the class you would glance at each other and passed massages. It was geography, and your teacher wasn't paying attention to class, as usual, and you were free to pass massages without her acknowledging. Every time she passes you massage she would see your flushed face, but she didn't think about it a lot. I mean, you never really told her you're not straight, so she had no idea. She always felt like you were hiding something, but she had no idea what exactly, it was killing her. It made her worry because you were coughing pretty often.

Before you knew class was over. Everyone went to canteen where they were fighting over food. Mikasa and you were already sat because she brought launch from home, and you couldn't eat. She did ask you few times if you wanted her food which you always denied not wanting to be a burden, yet once she asked you for what felt like 100th time you said yes.

Once you ate you felt like you were going to throw up so you went to bathroom and petals started flowing from your mouth all covered in blood. Once you were done you felt lightheaded, just wanting help but too stubborn to ask for it, too embarrassed of the story getting around and people, more importantly her knowing.

May 21st

It felt so long since you found out about your hanahaki, but in reality it hadn't been even a whole month. You didn't know for how long you had actually had it since patels don't come immediately, but you knew it wasn't going good for you.

Going to school you felt so weak you almost tripped over multiple times and fell asleep on the street. Once you finally came in classroom you dropped on the chair with head in you hands. Feeling like you could fall asleep at the moment but you felt someone tapping your back. You looked up and saw Mikasa a little smile immediately painting on your face.

"Hey" you said weakly and she smiled at you responding with much more energy, it seemed weird since you were always the one more energetic. Her energy didn't change, but yours became so low that the difference could be spotted from a far.

The whole day you couldn't focus and felt so lightheaded, but every time the teacher called you seemed to know the answer. When the day ended you felt so happy because it felt like forever.

Getting home you got confused onto why this whole disease got so bug so quickly but you remembered that your immune system was never particularly good, and on top of that your mind would always get onto things to quickly, and this being a disease of both suddenly it made sense.

June 12th

You felt so incredibly weak, nothing could get you out of bed. The time had come? You thought and it really felt like it did. The time had come so quickly, but you suddenly were certain it did. Yet, going with so many regrets felt so wrong. You wanted last thing you did to be letting her know

Your finger was on call button about to press, but feeling to scared you gave up. With a sigh you opened your messages and decided to text her instead. I love you

That's all that was written because you were to weak for anything else. Feeling overwhelming pain in lungs you knew it was it, the time had come. You started coughing, coughing so bad, but no one was there.

Loneliness, it was only thing you felt. But at least you were going to die without regret of her not knowing. It was a thing making you sad, but sort of happy at the same time.

Your phone was ringing but you couldn't answer, not now, or ever again. The end so near, yet seemed so far. The coughing was finally done and you looked at the full rose, covered in blood, in your hands, with soft smile of seeing your favorite color you fell down.

After only five minutes you barely heard someone coming in apartment that you forgot to lock. Mikasa came to you running and at the sight of the rose covered in blood her eyes filled with horrid and she started shaking you and your eyes meekly opened.

When she saw it, she said, with tears in her eyes "I love you too." Your eyes widened and you started coughing again, coughing up the whole root of flower. And then, you felt so much better. It had all gone out, leaving you with relief.

"You could've said it earlier" Mikasa said with tears in her eyes and you gave her full smile and scratched the back of your neck telling her you were scared. She sighed and hugged you, you hugged her back and that's how you stayed for the longest.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" you asked and she smiled softly replaying "Yes, and don't think you can ever get rid of me" you laughed softly and replied "I'm not intending to"

The end

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Advantages of studying [Remus Lupin x Reader] - Requested

Title: Advantages of studying Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word count: 2.9k Published: 22 July, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: I got this cute request by winsalo on Wattpad a couple of days ago. Summary: You have been helping Remus with his Potions essay, whilst slowly falling for the kind boy. However you are rather shy around Remus and find it hard to make the first step.  Request: [x]

"Please could you do one with Remus and a girl called Evangeline but Eve for short. They become sloe whilst studying together. I love your writing by the way." - Winsalo [Wattpad]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You have been sitting in the library for the past two hours, studying with Remus. Studying might have been a strong use of word as you have been trying not to stare at him the whole time. You kept your face down, pretending to read the lines of your potions book, but you couldn't even recall a word. Of course, you couldn't. Although you kept glancing at the book, your eyes often wondered to the brown haired boy sitting across the table.

Potions wasn't his strongest subject, therefore you have been helping him with the essay you were given by Professor Slughorn. He was so concentrated on his parchment, his brows furrowed, whilst trying to write down his thoughts. At times he ran his fingers through his locks with a deep sigh leaving his lips as if it helped him in concentrating. His long fingers wrapped themselves around his quill, holding them firmly in place. It made you wonder what kind of a boy he was.

You have known him since first year and you could only see a kind side of his, but you knew there was always more to people. You wished to get to know him better, you wished to talk to him more often. Unfortunately for you, he was quite reserved. Unless he needed help with studying, he didn't talk to you much. He did wave at you or smiled gently while nodding when you met in class, but he never really initiated a conversation. You wished he did though. You were rather shy when it came to him. You never really dared to get close to him, feeling as if he was trying to keep everyone away from himself, other than his three best friends.

You admired him for his smart brain, his kind manners, his polite behaviour, but you rarely saw those sides and unfortunately your lack of knowledge on him forced you to admire only his physical appearance. You didn't complain though. He was dashingly handsome and a sweet candy to the eyes.

You tried very hard not to stare, but it seemed to be impossible. He flipped through the pages of the book he was taking his notes from, before he lifted his face to look up at you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You felt like you have been caught out and you were unable to hide the blush creeping up on your cheeks.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, but instead of looking at him, your eyes wondered to the shelves full of old and dusty books. You were trying to avoid his eyes in case your stupid little brain decided to stare at him once again, creepily.

"Sure." You replied after a moment of silence, digging yourself into your book.

"Look, if you have anything else to do, I can finish it from here." He spoke, making you frown as you finally looked into his dark, green eyes and shook your head.

"No, not at all. I guess, I am just a bit distracted, that's all." You let a small smile spread across your face.

"Can I help?" He asked, but you shook your head, knowing this was a battle you had to fight with yourself.

"It's nothing important." You tried to reassure him.

"Well, it seems to me that it is. You haven't written a word on your parchment." He pointed at your paper and for a second you could feel your face go white as your blood rushed out of your cheeks.

"Oh..." You breathed, realisation hitting you hard.

"So...?" He tried again, but you just shook your head, quickly starting to write your essay, knowing you had barely a few hours to finish it. Remus didn't try to talk to you again, seeing that you were completely lost in your studies. He smiled softly as he looked at your hunched form, your complete attention on your paper.

Hours passed by when Madam Pince walked over, her nose held high, his brows raised, impatiently waiting for the students to leave the library. You both packed your books, notes, quills and inks, putting them all in the bags, ready to leave. As you walked out of the library, Remus placed a hand on the small of your back and halted, turning towards you. You raised a brow at his unexpected actions, but gave him your undivided attention.

"I guess, you don't have to tutor me anymore." Remus smiled at you as if he thought it was some kind of a burden on you. However you didn't return his joyful expression. You weren't happy to say the least. You didn't want that gap to stand between you two once again, but you didn't dare to do anything about it. He clearly didn't want you as anything more than a tutor.

"Yes, but if you have any questions, you can always ask me." You reassured more yourself than him, hoping for him to come to you eventually.

"I will, thank you." He nodded and offered you a pleased look, before he walked away from you, leaving you to stare at the back of the dark brown jumper he has been wearing. You heaved a deep sigh as you walked up to your dormitory, concluding that you have been left to ogle over his mere presence from afar once again. Arriving to your dorm, you threw yourself on your bed and hid your face in your pillow, hoping for this feeling you have been harbouring for him to just disappear.

The next couple of days have been quite. You watched him sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table at breakfast, you stared at his back on Potions and Transfiguration, being seated right behind him, you gazed at his laughing form, sitting by the lake with his friends. You wished to be part of all his experiences, but you knew your love for him was only one sided. Love, indeed. You came to love the oblivious boy, making it so much harder to watch him from afar.

You were sitting in your dorm room, legs spread across the floor, back leaning against the edge of the bed. You have been sighing for minutes straight, before your friend walked up to you and sat down besides you.

"You have to stop this. Why don't you just ask him out?" She asked curiously.

"I can't. He... he is Remus. He wouldn't date with someone like me." You let out a defeated deep breath, head hanging low in sorrow.

"What does that even mean? Have you looked into the mirror? You are beautiful, you are smart, you are funny. Who wouldn't want to date you?" She asked with a sceptical look on her face.

"Clearly noone." You huffed. You couldn't recall receiving a single confession recently.

"Erm... yeah. You have been staring at Remus so obviously, that everyone is aware of it." She raised her brow knowingly.

"No, I have not." You argued, but she shook her head.

"Yes, you have. I could walk around the dorm, knocking on doors and people would confirm it without hesitation." She smirked. "The only person who doesn't realise your feelings is Remus. Look, he is a nice guy, ask him out. Even if he rejects you, which believe me, he won't, you won't have to be scared of being made fun of, because he is just not wired that way." She tried to convince you. While you knew she was right, you were still scared to let him know of your feelings.

"His friends could make fun of me. He could start avoiding me. I could even scare him away and that would be beyond painful." You spoke, but your friend just shook her head.

"Excuses. Do it!" She said as if it was that simple. "Do it!" She repeated it once again with a raised brow. "If you don't I will." She grinned mischievously.

"What?" Your eyes grew wide in shock.

"I will tell him myself." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"No." You replied, suddenly grabbing her shoulder.

"Will you do it then?" She asked, waiting for a clear confirmation.

"Fine, I will." You spoke in an unsure tone.

"Good! Now let's go to bed and first thing on the morning you will confess your undying love." She giggled, making you grimace at her happy face.

Slumber took over you harder than ever as you tried to think through all the scenarios that could happen. As much as you wished to think of all the happy endings, somehow your mind wondered over to the dark side, imagining all the different kind of rejections you expected to receive. Deep sighs left your lungs on numerous occasions, to a point where your friend woke up and threw a pillow at your face. You growled at her childish behaviour, but soon finally let your nervous thoughts go and fell into a sweet dream, revolving around Remus.

The next morning you stood in front of your mirror, preparing yourself for the most embarrassing day of your life. You wanted to stay behind and just play the poor, sick student act, but your friend laughed straight in your face and pushed you out the door. You rolled your eyes at her dominant behaviour, but headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast anyway.

Remus was already sitting at the table with his friends, laughing about probably the newest prank they have been planning. You heaved a deep sigh and took your seat, trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Come on." Your friend ushered you, but you just shook your head furiously.

"Not in the Great Hall." You frowned.

"Why not?" She asked, her head tilting in confusion.

"Everyone could hear it. Let me do it later." You whispered, not wanting anyone to know that you have been planning something.

"Fine." She huffed and returned to her breakfast.

Classes flew by and since your friend wasn't nagging you, you certainly thought you were off the hook. Oh, what a wrong thought that was. Classes finished and you were sitting outside the Black lake as per your friend's request, studying for your Transfiguration exam. You were deep in your thoughts, but you could just about hear a group of boys laughing loudly at the edge of the lake. You didn't have to think for long to realise it was Remus who was having fun with his group of friends. You turned to your friend, your cheeks heating up, feeling embarrassment coming over you.

"It's time." She said with a cheeky smile, biting into her lower lip. You frowned suspiciously before it all downed on you.

"You knew!" You stated firmly, but she just shrugged with the same smile across her face and nudged your shoulder, telling you to go.

You placed your books and parchment on the grass and stood up hesitantly, while rearranging your wrinkled cloths. You looked back at your friend, hoping for a more empathetic feeling from her, but she just gave you a sceptical look as if she knew you wanted to run away. You knew you had no escape route at this point, but your legs didn't move. You stood there, looking at the man who has stolen your heart, but you just couldn't take the first step.

"Remus." You heard her calling him from beside you and you gave a terrified look to your friend, who simply shrugged it off. "Go." She said as she lowered her head back into her book once again.

Your eyes looked up to the owner of the green orbs, who was curiously searching for a reason why he was called over so abruptly. You met him right in the middle of the land, between both of your friends and stood silently. You exhaled sharply, before deciding to speak up.

"Hey." Your voice was weak and low, he could barely hear you.

"Hey, is everything okay?" He asked, realising your rather nervous fidgeting.

"Yeah..." You spoke hesitantly. "I..." You tried to get your words out, but they just didn't seem to come. "I thought..." You kept attempting to say what you practiced last night, but your mind drew a blank and you started to get more and more scared of the situation. He could see your shaking hands and before you knew it, he grabbed them and squeezed them gently.

"You don't seem okay." He said, worry clear in his voice. His touch made you feel even more terrified and out of mere fear you quickly removed your hands from his. "I'm sorry." He apologised as he realised what he had done.

"No!" You shot up, not wanting him to feel bad for trying to comfort you. "I just... can I be just honest?" You asked, feeling more and more nervous about beating around the bush.

"Yes, that would be much appreciated." He chuckled lightly. You heaved a deep sigh and exhaled, repeating the process a couple of times before you took the courage to speak up again.

"Would you go on a date with me?" You asked, your words almost slurring together. Your eyes were attached to his face to see a reaction, but he seemed expressionless.

"What?" He finally spoke, but those were not the words you expected.

"Please, don't let me repeat that." Your tone was begging as you felt the fear growing inside you. As if you could be rejected by simply repeating your words.

"I... I didn't think you would look at me like that." He frowned and you tilted your head curiously.

"Why not?" You asked, knowing that you have been more than obvious about your feelings.

"I don't know. I just didn't see it." He smiled gently, making your heart flutter in hope, but then silence fell up on you, making you anxious about his answer once again. His eyes were fixed on the ground, letting his thoughts take over him.

"You were the only one who didn't." You chuckled awkwardly trying to save the situation and fill in the silent gap.

However it didn't work. Remus stood in front of you with a puzzled expression, trying to find the right answer, while you fidgeted with your hands in nervousness. You felt your heart sunk deeper in sorrow as you started to realise that his silence was perhaps a rejection he didn't dare to say, not wanting to hurt you.

You painfully smiled to yourself, concluding that he was perhaps too kind to reject your advances. You let him think for a while, knowing he was probably searching for the nicest words to tell you, he didn't see you that way, that he didn't think of you as a potential romantic interest. You heaved a deep sigh, eyes still glued to the nervous boy.

"Come on, Moony. You have been drooling over Y/N for the past year. Just say yes." Sirius shouted, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration. Your eyes widened at his words and finally Remus looked up at you in shock.

"Damn it." He whispered, but you could just hear it fine. A small smile started spreading across your face, before you started lightly giggling. "That's not how I planned to... yeah." He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He was nervous, but it wasn't because he was trying to find words to reject you, but because he didn't know the right words, now that his feelings have been returned. "I guess, that would be a yes then." He smiled happily this time. You could barely contain your excitement, but you tried to hide it anyway. You didn't really know much about Remus' friends, but you were certain that you would like them.

"Good, I'm glad you agreed." You spoke awkwardly, not knowing what to do next.

"I would have been stupid not to." He chuckled.

"Go get some Moony." Sirius walked up behind him and patted him on the back, pushing him forward. Things happened so fast, you could barely process the situation. One second Remus was standing in front of you, smiling awkwardly, the next he stumbled over to you, his hands on your upper arms to steady himself, his lips attached to yours.

Your eyes widened in shock, your breath stuck in your lungs as you felt his plump lips against yours. He quickly stepped back, fear clearly projected in his eyes.

"I am so sorry. Sirius just pushed me and I..." He tried to explain everything at once, his words a mess, his arms gesturing all over.

"It's fine." You smiled softly, trying to contain the cheerful screams you wanted to let out so badly. "But next time, maybe after the date." You giggled, which caused a relived sigh to leave his lips, before a smile appeared across his face.

You have never felt more excited in your life, than in the moment he said yes and for the record, there wasn't just one or two kisses, but many more throughout the years.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to like and/or reblog the chapter. Thank you :) 

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

[minka-g]

Any updates on The Midnight Fox? :)

Yes! It is coming. As in, next week! I was going to start posting again this week, but I have an essay due (yeah, I study now) so the days sort of blurred and I’ve been pretty focused on that.

The crazy thing with The Midnight Fox is that it’s already written and fully edited up until chapter 13. And then I had a large chunk of the end stuff done as well. But I went through a lot this year, and had a huge breakdown and some dangerous depression, and so I just… stopped. I stopped writing, stopped fandom; stopped everything. I hated everything that I had written, and everything I’d created and yeah – dark times.

I also considered that it was far better to leave it where it was than to start posting just for the sake of it, and then end up fully catching up to myself and leaving readers hanging once again. Trust me when I say that the end of chapter 4 is a lot nicer place to leave it than some of the cliff-hangers coming up!

But about three weeks ago, I actually opened up the doc and looked at it and have been steadily working on the end now. While it’s not finished yet, I’m to the point where I’m comfortable with the gap and am sure that I’ll have it finished and edited without any more post delays.

Wow, that was a long answer! But thank you for asking, and please do keep an eye out for the update! I normally post mid-week and will probably stick to that schedule, unless weekends are better for people…? IDK – let me know if you have any preferences.

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 15

Neither of us knew how to continue that conversation, especially when we were upset. We sat in an awkward silence for a while. We both seemed to unconsciously know that we couldn’t have it productively or honestly if we were both still this upset. “I uh… I need to go finish an essay so Mr. Jensen can proofread it. I’ll be at the table if you need anything.”

“Okay. Do you want to be alone or…?”

“Doesn’t matter. You can watch tv or something if you want. I’ll be in the zone soon enough.” Monty nodded and awkwardly kissed the top of my head. I sent Justin a quick text, just to update him so he knew I was okay. I told him. We are going to talk about it when we are both in clearer headspaces. It took a few minutes for him to answer.

How did he take it?

He’s upset. I mean obviously he was upset. But he agreed that we need to talk about it when we can have a rational conversation. I’ll let you know how that goes. I spent the night writing essays and finishing up a couple of writing samples. At some point Monty came over and slowly pushed a bowl of yogurt, berries, and granola over to me silently before going back to the couch. I accepted it silently. I looked at the clock a while after I finished my yogurt and yawned loudly. It was just before midnight. I saved my work, stood, and walked over to the couch. Monty didn’t seem to be watching anything exactly. More just… looking at the screen.

“Are you coming to bed?” I asked timidly, pulling the sweater I grabbed an hour or two ago around me.

“Are you sure you want me there? I’m fine on the couch.”

“No, I do.” I nodded. He nodded back and turned off the tv. I held my hand out to him and he took it gently. He seemed unsure if this was something I really wanted or not. I smiled and squeezed softly. For the first time in days, together we went and got ready for bed. I put on another one of his t-shirts while he brushed his teeth and crawled into bed. He joined me a few minutes later. When he didn’t pull me closer to him, I curled up against his side and laid my head on his chest. All is not forgiven but I really need the sleep. He ran his fingers through my hair. If you didn’t know what had transpired in the last few days, it would seem like we were simply going to bed like we had every other night since we got married.

“Night night Monty.” I muttered, halfway to what I hoped would be a peaceful slumber.

“Night night Addison.” He replied. For the first time since Wednesday night, I slept soundly through the night.

In the days that followed, it was much of the same as Sunday afternoon. We danced around each other at home. We were short but cordial at school with each other. Refusing to say more than single- or double-word answers unless necessary, spending as little time together before or after class as we could, and keeping quiet at lunch may have raised a few of our friend’s brows. They didn’t comment on it if they noticed though.  It was uncomfortable. We may have been used to hiding and keeping quiet at school but that didn’t make it any easier. The whole point of telling people was to not need to do this anymore.

Monty pulled me aside after lunch on Tuesday. “I told Coach I have an extra PT appointment today because my knee has been stiff. Are you okay to talk after school?”

I stopped to think for a moment. Am I ready? I’ll take anything over this awkward silence and wedge between us. Even if I’m scared. At least he’s taking initiative to deal with it. “Uh, yeah. After school works for me. I’ll see you at home?”

“Okay.” I adjusted my bag and hurried off to class. This is going to be a very interesting afternoon. I tried my best to focus on my work, but my mind wouldn’t stop going over the possibilities of what could happen tonight.I don’t want this to be another screaming match. This could devolve so quickly. Am I ready to deal with him refusing to take responsibility again?  What if I’m wrong? What if he really is ready to try and fix this? Maybe it could go well. It’s going to suck either way. But maybe if we have an adult conversation, we can move on and things can get back to normal faster. What if…?

Monty beat me home. Mr. Porter called me into his office during last period to give me a couple of documents to send along with my college applications. As a result, I was running late to get home. I burst through the door, clutching the files to my chest so they didn’t fly everywhere in my haste to get inside. “Hey, sorry I’m late. Porter had to give me some paperwork and I had some questions about it. Took a little longer than I expected.” I huffed.

“No problem. Get everything you need?”

“Yeah. I’ll stop at my parents place later this week to scan it all.”

“Sounds good.” I set my papers on the island and went to sit on the couch. Pulling the blanket around me, I settled in for what could be a very long night.

“Do you understand why I’m upset?” I asked when he joined me on the couch.

“I think so.”

“Can you explain why you think I’m upset?”

“You’re upset that I didn’t communicate with you enough?”

“I mean, yes. That is part of why I’m upset. But it’s not the only reason.”

“I think you’re upset because you know that” he paused and thought about it. “You’re upset because I acted without thinking about the consequences. And it’s impact on you and our relationship.” Wow. He was listening.

“Y-yes. You have it mostly right.”

“Mostly?”

“I’m also upset because I know you know better than to do that. I’m upset that it seems to be becoming a pattern. We’ve talked about it before. I have no problem with you going out with the boys and doing stuff. I don’t even really have a problem with you drinking a little. I have a problem with it when you come home trashed, and I have to clean up the mess.” I reached out and took his hand on mine. We are in this together. No matter what. We are a team.

“I know. It’s just… you know I’m not exactly used to having to answer to someone.”

“I know. But at some point, that stops being an acceptable reason. At some point you have to own up and accept responsibility for your actions.”

“I know I’m responsible for my actions Addison.” He seemed to be getting upset now. I didn’t want this to turn into another blow up fight.

“Hey, I never said you didn’t know that. But there is a difference between knowing that you are responsible and accepting responsibility.” He didn’t respond so I continued. “This is becoming a more frequent thing and it’s concerning. When I say that you need to accept responsibility, I’m not trying to attack you or say that you think your behaviour is okay. I’m sorry if that’s how it comes off.” He didn’t respond again. I watched him look into his lap. “I need you to say something. We can’t have a conversation about this and fix things if you aren’t going to contribute.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say Addison.”

“I don’t want you to say any specific thing. I want you to contribute to our conversation. I don’t want to just sit here and talk at you. I don’t want to sit and just tell you how I feel. I want you to tell me how you feel.”

“I feel like I really screwed up.”

“Okay. That’s something. What else?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know how to fix this.”

I decided to take a risk. “Do you want to fix this?” He whipped his head up instantly.

“Of course, I want to fix this. What kind of question is that?”

Okay, maybe that was too much too fast. “It was just a question. I know you want to fix this.”

“Why are you so concerned about this?”

“About you overdrinking when you go out with your friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you’re better than this Montgomery. I know you are. And you don’t communicate with me when you do. It’s like you’re trying to hide it. The fact that you don’t seem to see this as a problem is also worrying.”

“I’m not trying to hide anything. I just don’t check my phone that often with the guys, you know that.”

“I do. But any other time you’re with them, you tell me where you are or when you think you’ll be home. And you tell me when you’re leaving. The only time you don’t is when you do something that you think would upset me.”

“I never noticed that.”

“I didn’t think you did. That’s why I’m mentioning it.”

“Okay.”

“It also worries me that you really only do it when you’re with certain friends.”

“You mean Bryce?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Yes. When you’re out with pretty much any of your other friends, you don’t act like that.” He huffed out a laugh.

“And it all comes back to Bryce.” He muttered.

“Apparently yes. Since he seems to be the common denominator when we talk about this. And I haven’t spent enough time with your other friends to know otherwise.”

“He isn’t this horrible person that you think he is Addison.”

“Well, that may be true to some degree, but he’s not this amazing guy you make him out to be. He encourages you to do things that you know aren’t in your best interest.”

“You mean aren’t good for you.”

“No. I don’t. You know that when you drink like that, it causes problems between us. You know that when he’s around you act differently. I mean, you said yourself that it was probably a good idea not to tell him about us when we were considering who to tell about our relationship. If he was as good a guy you think he is, why would you say that? If you’re as close to him as you say you are, why wouldn’t you want him knowing about me? You were more than happy to tell Scott about us as soon as we told Justin. But not Bryce. That isn’t strange to you?”

“Bryce and I don’t have the same kind of friendship that Scott and I do. We don’t talk about important stuff.”

“Uh huh. Okay. We’ll go with that one.”

“I told you before I’m not going to stop being friends with him.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just think you need to think about the kinds of people you want to surround yourself with.”

“Addison. Your best friend is a recovering heroin addict who abandoned you for months. You don’t really have room to be passing judgement about who I choose to surround myself with.” My mouth fell open and I stared at him. I cannot believe he just said that.

“Excuse me.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That isn’t fair. That isn’t fair and you know it.”

“How is it not fair?”

“Because unlike you, Justin takes responsibility for his actions. Justin didn’t do it because his friends encouraged him to do it.”

“I don’t see the difference between what you said and what I said is.”

“The difference Montgomery is that I would say what I said to Bryce’s face. You would never say what you said to Justin’s face.”

“How do you know?”

“Because even though for some reason you seem to have forgotten this right now, I know you Montgomery. I know you better than I know myself. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Fine.”

“So is this how this is going to go? We were doing so well. We were having a mature conversation. And when I presented you with logical reasoning as to why I have a problem with the way your friend influences you, you hit me with that low of a blow?” He was quiet for a while. I huffed loudly and rolled my eyes. Honestly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay?”

“I’m sorry for what I said about Justin. It was out of line and it wasn’t fair. I know it’s not the same thing. I just… Bryce is my friend Addison. You can’t expect me to sit here and be okay with you telling me what an awful person you think he is. You don’t even know him.” It was my turn to be quiet. Maybe I was being unfair. I had never really spent a lot of time with Bryce, not that I wanted to. I mean, Justin was his best friend for a really long time. And giving him a chance wouldn’t mean I have to ignore all of the terrible things he has done. I wouldn’t have to be alone with him. A chance can’t hurt.

“Okay. I’m sorry too. He’s your friend. I’ll try to be nicer to him. I can’t make any promises though.”

“Thank you. If it makes you more comfortable, I can cut down on the time I spend with him.”

“I’ll think about it?” I still wasn’t super okay with the idea of telling him who he can and can’t be friends with.

“And I’m sorry that I took things too far when I was out Thursday night and it hurt you. When you told me that it scares you when I come home like that….” I didn’t urge him to go on. I knew it would come out eventually. Instead, I inched closer to him and held his hand a little tighter. I waited quietly until he was ready to proceed. “All of the sudden I was a little kid hiding in my closet from my dad again. I never…” he paused again, “I never wanted that for you. And I don’t want that to be what our kids go through. I don’t want them to be afraid of me. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“I know. I never really realized that that was the reason I got so upset until I was talking to Justin. He called me out on trying to say that it was just a Bryce issue, when it’s not. Hey, can you look at me?” He looked up. “I’m not afraid of you. Not really. I know that you would never do anything to hurt me.”

“It’s hard to hear the woman you love. No, the person you love most in this world, tell you that you scare them.”

“I can imagine. Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. If you do, I want you to be honest with me though, okay?”

“Go ahead.” He nodded.

“Is there something going on with you that you aren’t telling me about?”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know, just something. Is there a reason you pushed so far past your limit on Thursday?”

“No. I can honestly tell you that I just got carried away. And I will concede that Bryce and a few of the guys may have encouraged it.”

“Okay. If there is, you know you can talk to me about it, right?”

“I know. I promise to tell you if there is. And I promise I’ll be more aware of what I do and how much I drink when I go out.” I nodded to him and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

When I had a moment alone, I texted Justin. Hey, so we talked for a few hours after school. I think we are at least on the road to getting back to normal. We kind of laid it all out and we both have things we can work on. Thank you for helping me figure things out.

That’s good. I’m glad to hear it Addy. What are best friends for?

Stealing French fries off of at lunch?

Hahahahhaha I knew it was you.

No comment. I love you.

I love you too.

By Thursday, Monty and I were starting to feel more like ourselves. Things were still a little tense and they probably would be for a while. At least until some of the residual tension went away. I was getting undressed when Monty got out of the shower that morning. “Uh Addison?”

“Yes?” I was trying to put on my pants while simultaneously clawing at my arms.

“Two questions.”

“What?”

“One, why are you scratching at your arms like you’re itching to get your next fix? And two, what the hell is all over your back?”

“Stress rash.”

“Why do you have a stress rash?”

“Well, it could have something to do with fighting with my husband for almost a week.” So itchy. Make the itchy stop. “And that coupled with trying to get my college applications in on time for early admission, has made me a little stressed out.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. It should clear up after I get my applications done.”

“Okay….” He passed me a sweatshirt from the closet. “Here, this is loose. Or do you want one of my shirts?”

“This is good. Thank you.”

I took a cool shower when I got home and decided to work on getting my applications finished. The sooner they’re done, the sooner the rash will go away. I merely grunted when Monty got home. I was too focused on my computer. He chuckled to himself quietly and turned on the tv. “That’s my girl.” He muttered. I smiled softly. A few hours later, I had done it. All the early applications for my choice schools were complete. I just had to submit them. Finally.

“Done.” I said as I hit submit.

“What are you done?” Monty asked, swiveling his head.

“I just submitted my last early application.”

“That’s good. How do you feel?”

“Like my entire future is traveling at light speed and is now sitting in someone’s inbox.” I put my face in my hands and groaned. Monty chuckled. I couldn’t stop staring at my computer screen. I heard him open the fridge and grab something. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“No.”

“That’s communal food. And no sex jokes.”

“I’m not.” I heard him puttering around the kitchen, opening and closing drawers. “Do we have… never mind I found it.”

“Okay?” He didn’t respond and continued whatever he was doing. The sound of a plate being placed next to me made me jump. I looked up and Monty was grinning at me. He gestured towards the plate. He made me a sandwich. “Thank you.” I said softly.

“No problem.” He ruffled my hair and went to go sit back on the couch.

The next morning, I had Montgomery put some lotion on my back to soothe the itch while we were at school. He left little kisses down the back of my neck. I tried not to smile but I couldn’t help it. Things were still tense, even after our talk. I wasn’t sure I had completely forgiven him yet. We were still walking on eggshells around each other. This wasn’t an issue we could just sweep under the rug and pretend didn’t happen. Slowly though, our relationship was shifting back to normal. “Can you grab the cream cardigan out of the dryer when you’re in the kitchen please?”

“Sure.” While he was gone, I got dressed in black jeans and a maroon lace crop top. He whistled when he came back in. “Those should be at home jeans.” I rolled my eyes at him and he slapped my ass playfully.

“Monty!”

“What?” he shrugged, obliviously. I rolled my eyes and flipped him off. He chuckled to himself, knowing he couldn’t do anything. You got yourself into this. I slipped on a pair of black flats and grabbed my travel mug as we left the house.

Justin was waiting for us when we got to school. He had two cinnamon twists and a cup of tea from Monet’s with him. Apparently with my name on them. “A rather large birdy told me you had an important night last night.”

“Ooooo.” Garrison teased.

“No.” Monty ground out.

“I submitted my last early application for school last night.”

“Oh. Not ooo then. Jeeze Addy, had to go and make the rest of us look like slackers.”

“Well, I unfortunately don’t have schools calling and sending pamphlets begging me to attend their institutions. Some of us have to rely on academics to stand out.” The small group laughed around me. I hugged Justin as I took a chunk off the muffin. “Thank you. Now I just have to wait for responses.”

“How long will that take?” Bryce asked as he joined us.

“Too long.” I stated. Don’t want to be nice. Even though I promised I would try.

“O…kay.” The bell rang before I could say anything that would get me in trouble. I did catch Justin’s lip twitch though. He knew my expressions like the back of his hand.

Geography was easily the most boring class of the day for me. I usually didn’t participate much. Today however, I couldn’t stop myself. I don’t know if it was the stress or the fact that I had been running on fumes for the last week and a bit, but I couldn’t hold back my laughter when a student made a less than thought out comment.

“But Ms. Carlson. When my family and I were in Brazil this summer, the Spanish sounded different.” Carter said. Oh my. I tried so hard not to laugh but it just bubbled out. And once it started, it wasn’t stopping. People turned to look at me. Zach and Bryce looked at me like I had officially lost it.

“I… I’m sorry. I-it’s not you Carter.” I started. “I submitted my last college application last night and,” I paused again to try to catch my breath, “my stress level has been just a little high.” I paused yet again and took a deep breath. “The reason the Spanish sounded ‘funny’ is because it’s not fucking Spanish.” He looked at me funny. “It’s Portuguese.”

“No. It’s Spanish.”

“No. It’s not.”

“Yes, it is. Ms. Carlson?”

“It’s Portuguese. Brazil was colonized by Portugal Carter.” Ms. Carlson told him.

“Oh.” I had finally caught my breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I get a little loopy when I get stressed.”

“No, it’s okay Addy.” He nodded to me.

I relayed the story of the Geography incident to our friends at lunch. The boys, even Bryce and Zach who witnessed it firsthand, found it absolutely hilarious.

“So, do you like, know any Portuguese?” Ryder’s girlfriend, Taylor, asked. Monty cleared his throat and grabbed my hand, squeezing. I turned to him, seeking permission, before answering. He nodded. I turned my attention back to the group.

“I can curse and that’s about it.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s just say there’s a reason I haven’t spoken to my father-in-law since before I married his son.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No, it’s okay.” I liked Taylor. She was nice. She wasn’t a cheerleader or overly pretentious. I could see myself being friends with her.

“We’ve talked about it and we are both comfortable with the situation.” Monty added.

“Can we get that story sometime?” Connor asked.

“You have to tell them.” Scott said.

“They need to hear it.” Charlie and Justin agreed.

“Maybe one day.” I smirked.

[scribeofred]

Hi! I was just wondering what advice you would give to first time writers.

Hi there!

Depending on time of day, mood, and what I’ve been editing and/or reading recently, my answer to this sort of question changes. Today, I’ve gone full prose, and I’m not sure how strictly helpful this is going to be, but hopefully you’ll be able to glean something useful!

That said.

One of the most important things—if not the most important thing—a new writer can do is WRITE. Just write. Fiction? Absolutely. Nonfiction? Sure, why not. Poetry? If you’re so inclined! Song lyrics? You’re a more brilliant writer than I. Essays? Analyses? Any series of words that comes to mind? Yes, yes, and yes.

Write. Experiment. Break any rules you’re currently aware of and a whole ton you don’t even know exist. Play with language. Get comfortable with using enormous words, tiny words, strong words, weak words; feel the rhythm of language and of different sentence constructions. Hone your ear, really listen to how words sound, look at their appearances, hold the shapes of them in your mouth, let them sit heavy in your gut and flutter the tips of your fingers. (If you really attune yourself to the English language, there should be no such thing as a synonym because no two words mean exactly the same thing.)

Mess about with storytelling. Write as many different kinds of characters and situations as you can. Become aware of what parts of writing you find superbly easy and what parts you want to torch with a flamethrower. Push yourself. Write raw, write real, write those things that scare you, don’t be afraid of doing this writing thing wrong. Not yet (maybe not ever). Don’t don’t don’t DON’T let yourself become paralyzed by all the writing advice out there, all the rules, all the dos and don’ts, all the this-is-how-real-writers-do-it. (Related: I am currently reading a book on writing that I think is excellent—except for the author’s approach to organic plotting. I hate the method he champions. It doesn’t mesh with my style at all. But the rest of the information in the book is A+ and I can’t discount all of it just because that writer and I have different drafting methodologies.) On that note, if anything I say doesn’t jive with your style, ignore it! There’s nothing wrong with cherry-picking writing advice, especially when it’s come from an informal setting like this.

Don’t immediately seek out feedback or editing or publication. It’s so tempting to do that—getting feedback can be addictive, I know—but you need to discover what works for you first and foremost, what makes you excited to write, what causes your unique words to bubble up like a spring. Your early writing might suck. In fact, it almost certainly will suck. I can’t read anything I wrote more than eight years ago because it’s just too cringy. And that’s okay! Every word you put down is a new stepping-stone, and one day you’re going to look back and realize that while many of those stones are shrouded in the fog of time, they’re still there—they still carried you to where you are now—and there are more ahead of you as long as you keep laying words down.

Enjoy yourself! Have fun! Those first two or so years of writing are pure magic, a budding infatuation with all the possibilities that are available to you via this new world of your own creation. Go mad with power. Get drunk on language.

If you really want to, begin learning about the craft of storytelling, about the rules of grammar, about writing in general. Don’t let any of that learning shove you into a box and tape you inside. The best writers break the rules somewhere, somehow—you just need to determine what rules you want to flout and why, and you won’t know that until you actually begin writing for yourself. (If you want a couple of excellent books that aren’t prescriptive, I highly recommend Spellbinding Sentences by Barbara Baig and Mastering the Craft of Writing by Stephen Wilbers.)

Don’t pressure yourself into finishing everything. Don’t feel guilty about not finishing every project you begin. Words aren’t wasted, and sometimes you might only write down a few sentences of a story before getting swept up in the heady elation of a new idea. That’s okay! Similarly, do occasionally finish projects. If you need to set the bar really low, that’s fine. Write a story in exactly 100 words. Exactly 200 words. Exactly 500 words. 1,500 words. Learn how to feel the weight of an idea—and learn your own tendencies. Some writers naturally come up with novels; others naturally come up with short stories. Novel ideas and short story ideas are not the same thing. Play around and discover the differences. Build the habit of finishing projects, though. Not all projects, but some. Revel in the accomplishment—you have completed a story! That’s wild, not every writer can say that! Treat yourself to something delicious or that ultraglittery bath bomb you’ve been eyeing or a pair of snuggly socks or anything. Just make it good, make it a proper reward.

Test out the method of highly structured plotting; then, for the next story, abandon yourself to the whims of your imagination. You’ll probably land somewhere in the middle—most writers do—but you’ll never know unless you try. Discover what you hate about writing, those things that make you want to flip your laptop or phone through the window; circumvent what issues you can, and learn how to mitigate the others. Alternately, force yourself to write something you absolutely hate—if you can do that without letting it crush your spark. Nurture that little flame, feed it tantalizing ideas and engaging characters and the most beautiful words you can find until it’s a roaring fire that cannot be quenched. Discover what you do love to write—and write it!

The world needs your words, your unique voice, your particular storytelling flair. Put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, thumbs to screen—and write. Anything. Everything. Pure nonsense, your deepest fears and grievances, gossamer words so fragile they dissolve in the eddying breeze, the very truest sentence you know how to write. Don’t lie. Don’t pretend to write as someone you aren’t. Spend time mimicking other writers’ styles, sampling their voices like you’d sample an enormous buffet laid out before you, but don’t stay there. Carve out your own hobbit hole where you’re comfortable, where things are familiar and nourishing, where you’re at home. Occasionally bust down those walls, rearrange the furniture, write literary cubism one day, purple prose the next, stark, bleak, bone-dry reality the day after. Writing is a long, long, long journey, it takes a lifetime to master, so spend those early days and years playing. Delight in the process of creation. Delight in reaching your goals.

Create. Have fun. Don’t take yourself too seriously, and don’t open yourself up to criticism or spark-snuffing feedback too soon. Writing is an intensely personal thing, and you need to get comfortable with it before you can put it on display for the world. Keep laying words down, one stone after another, even when you know you’re not writing as well as you want to be or think you can. Developing your skills takes time—be aware that you’re going to need months, probably even years, before you’re going to have a solid grasp on your own writing tendencies. Work on building that foundation for yourself so you can keep reaching higher, farther, to more fantastical and amazing places.

Give yourself time; don’t expect yourself to be perfect immediately. Be gracious with yourself as you build your skills. Don’t compare yourself to other writers. Stay spongy; always be ready to learn. And—most important—have fun and don’t ever give up!