joka13

[joka13]

Hello, everyone! I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience, but I'll be taking my main fanfiction over to Wattpad. Tumblr has been very kind to me, but it's just missing a few things. I will still take short requests here on Tumblr, and I'll leave up what I've already written of my main story until I have what I want down in Wattpad.

If you're interested in reading my future work, you can find me @JoKing19 on Wattpad. Just a forewarning, I will be changing my main story up a bit. (And by "a bit", I mean a lot actually.) There are just so many flaws with the one I have now and I want a fresh start. Also, it is likely that my Weasley twins story will not be my first publish on Wattpad. It could be a long wait, but we'll see. My plans for Wattpad aren't quite solidified yet.

Thank you all for your support, and I hope to see you on Wattpad!❤️

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[joka13]

Do y'all prefer the long hair phase or the short hair?

[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 3

WARNINGS: none

The wait was only a few days, but Thursday couldn't come soon enough. And by the time it did come, you were more than ready to go with George to Diagon Alley.

You sat in the dining room at 9:30 a.m. with your shoes on and purse hung over your shoulder, staring at the clock on the wall. George had said he'd pick you up at 10:00, but you wanted to be prepared in case he arrived early.

You anxiously fiddled with your hands. You were certainly excited for what the day ahead might hold, but, of course, you couldn't help but worry something would go wrong. You wished you could talk to Mum to distract yourself, but she was at work.

You then realized that George wouldn't pick you up in a car. He was a wizard, after all, and would travel by other means. This made you even more anxious as you anticipated how you might get to Diagon Alley. Would you apparate? You remembered that was your father's preferred method. Could you use floo powder? You once saw your father use it in the fireplace. Should you get a fire started just in case? George would need to bring his own powder...

Three knocks on the front door startled you. You quickly got to your feet, but stopped yourself from rushing and took in a deep breath to calm your rapidly beating heart. You tried your best to walk casually to the door and put on a smile as you opened it.

"Good morning, y/n! You ready?" George greeted you enthusiastically. You were pleased to see him wearing fairly casual clothes: a pair of blue jeans, a light sweater, and walking shoes. You had wondered earlier as you got dressed for the day if he would wear something more... wizardy because you'd be going to a wizarding place. You had worried that you'd stick out in your muggle clothes, but seeing George's outfit made you much less concerned about that.

"Good morning, George!" you replied, grinning wider. "I am!" You then noticed a little, blue car that was unfamiliar to you parked by the curb. "Is that... your car?" you asked, puzzled.

"Indeed it is!" George laughed. "Though, I don't know how to drive it... legally. According to muggle laws at least. It flies, but I thought we... you could drive it the normal way if that'd make you more comfortable."

George's thoughtfulness touched you, and much of your uneasiness slipped away. "Thank you... I really appreciate that actually. Wait one moment while I get my driver's license." You went back inside to grab your license. When you came back out, you locked the door behind you and eagerly exclaimed, "Here we go!"

George smiled. "Off we go!" He led you to the car, opening the driver side door for you, then walked around to sit in the passenger seat.

Out of habit, you first fastened your seatbelt. George copied you with his own, though you wondered if he knew being without a seatbelt in a moving car was illegal.

From that point forward, George directed you as well as he could (knowing as little about road laws as he did) for about twenty minutes before you arrived at an inn and pub called the Leaky Cauldron. You parked down the street.

"Well done," George complimented as you both got out of the car. "I don't know much about it, but driving seems complicated without magic."

You laughed. "Thank you!"

You followed George to the front of the inn. He stopped before entering, looking about the area.

"Something the matter?" you asked.

"We've got to be clear of muggles," George said. There weren't any that you or him could see, so George went inside with you nervously on his heels. "To them, this building appears to be nothing but a solid wall. If you weren't used to such things, you can imagine our entrance might look rather... odd."

You giggled at the thought. "That's an understatement."

As you took in your surroundings (which weren't much to behold; the pub was dimly lit and musty), you silently appreciated being able to see the inn from the outside. It was something that separated you from muggles and (sort of) included you with the rest of wizardkind. You became distracted by a couple of bottles floating slowly back to their shelves as the bartender finished preparing a drink, and you accidentally bumped into George's back.

"Sorry," you apologize.

"No worries. I thought you'd like to see this," George said, stepping to the side so you could better view the brick wall in front of him.

"Er..." You weren't sure what he was talking about, and you began to wonder if he meant the rubbish bin at your feet, until he lifted his wand and tapped its tip against the wall.

You jumped back in surprise when the bricks began to move on their own, clicking against each other as they went apart to create a doorway that revealed an entire street with buildings and people.

George laughed at your reaction. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, y/n!"

"Wow..." you breathed in amazement as you stepped out of the pub and onto the street.

Witches and wizards bustled around you, and you quickly turned around to hold George's arm as you worried you'd be split up. He seemed to enjoy this, but didn't say as much.

"What would you like to do?" he asked, gazing contentedly out over the crowd.

You noticed the brick wall closing back up behind you and felt there was no turning back. "I don't really know where to start..." You took in another deep breath to calm yourself. "Oh!" you gasped excitedly, remembering that George owned a joke shop here. "I want to see your shop!"

George smiled. "Then we'll go see my shop!"

You continued to hold onto him (though you had to remind yourself to loosen your grip sometimes) as George happily strolled through the marketplace. As you walked, you began to recognize some things that your father showed or told you about when he was still around, though most of what you saw you couldn't help but gape at. You saw talking, moving gargoyles. There was a store selling potions and elixirs. An advertising wizard performed a jig with mini fireworks. A strange, furry, ball-shaped creature rolled on the ground instead of walking or flying.

You didn't want to bother George but wanted to ask so many questions at the same time. He realized this this, and he insisted that you ask away.

"That's a puffskein," George said, referring to the rolling animal. "They make very low maintenance pets... though they should be put away at night. They enjoy eating bogeys and find that easiest to do while you sleep."

You snorted. "That's hilarious...! It'd be nice to have a clear nose in the morning if the cleaning process wasn't so disturbing."

You and George laughed together.

He went on to answer any questions that you had. He was in no rush to show you his shop, kindly letting you wander around as your attention was had by one thing to the next. During this time, George's name was called out now and then by regular customers or friends of his.

"It's almost impressive how many people you know," you said as George waved to an old wizard who apparently worked with his father.

He looked back at you with a crooked grin. "'Almost'?" George teasingly repeated.

"W-well, I can see that it comes easily to you," you chuckled, becoming flustered and looking away. You pretended to be captivated by a store with brooms sitting in the window. "It is impressive, really. I myself find it difficult to make friends... or even talk to strangers."

"I can understand that," George said, and it surprised you. "All throughout my schooling years, it was easiest to just talk with Fred. He was my... permanent friend," George laughed. "I never needed to wonder if he... might leave me..." You glanced up at George. His expression was tired for only a moment before he put on another smile. "So, I never had any practice making friends. Well, real friends anyway. Fred and I were the biggest class clowns; we had other students lining up to watch or get in on our jokes... Speaking of which, here we are!"

You goggled at the vibrantly designed structure in front of you. It was themed with bright purples and oranges and was welcoming in a lively kind of way. You read, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes" below a large, grinning, mechanical man with red hair (who you assumed was supposed to be Fred, George, or both). The mechanical man popped off his top hat to reveal a white rabbit. The hat was donned once more, but when the hat lifted again, the rabbit was gone.

"M'lady..." George held the door open for you, bowing low as you walked passed.

"Thank you, my good sir," you giggled.

What you had already seen so far in Diagon Alley was plenty magical, but all that seemed like nothing when compared to the contents of George's shop.

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[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 33

WARNINGS: light kissing

So often as it does, your mind composes a dream after you fall into a deep sleep.

You are Draco Malfoy, and you are constantly in a state of fear and dread. Every day is one of misery, though you aren't entirely sure what it is that you are afraid of. Nevertheless, your anxiety embarrasses you, so you taunt and belittle others to hide your own insecurity.

This makes you feel more confident and powerful, but uneasiness still lingers at the back of your consciousness. It remains suppressed and almost forgotten until you are in the presence of certain people: Potter, Snape, Dumbledore, Father, Mother... Umbridge included, but a part of you also likes her because she's helping your power to grow.

Your girlfriend, Maddy, also reminds you of your fear. She shares your fear. You know she's only staying with you because you'll be able to protect her when no one else can. She's selfish... just like you. You wouldn't have ever taken her in if the relationship you had together didn't bother y/l/n. That's how it started, and you had intended to get rid of Maddy a long time ago after she had served her purpose. Instead, you quickly came to realize that she provides a decent distraction from your worries.

And yet, despite how much you deny it, fear, a sense of utter impending doom, prevails...

You wake up from your dream in the early morning and find your pillow wet with tears. You wipe the dry salt off your face and look to the window. It appears you still have a while before you should get out of bed, so you flip your pillow over and attempt to fall back asleep.

You can't help but reflect on your dream, and it disturbs you. You were already well aware that Malfoy was troubled, but standing in his shoes (or rather how your mind pictured what it would be like to stand in his shoes) was truly upsetting. You'd always assumed Malfoy was simply born a prick. You never, until now, would've imagined that he of all people was so scared of anything.

You slowly roll over to glance at Maddy, who snores softly in her own bed. You know it was only a dream, but you feel sorry for her anyway.

Later that day during your lunch break after you've eaten, Fred and George follow you to the library where you look up a recipe for the dreamless sleep potion.

"Why are we here again?" George sniffs, gazing around uninterestedly at the shelves.

"Well, I am here to get a potion formula. I didn't ask you to come with me." You flip through the parchment stack in front of you, spotting the word "dream", and pull out just what you were looking for.

"Nightmares won't let her sleep," Fred explains to George. "If she drinks this potion before bed, she won't have any."

"Nightmares? Would you call the dream you had last night a nightmare, y/n?" George asks as he and Fred tail you on your way to the librarian's desk.

"I... no. Maybe." You borrow the recipe, tuck it neatly into your bag, and lead the twins out to the clocktower courtyard. "I wasn't terrified in the same way that I would be in my typical nightmares. I was scared, but it was sort of... in a depressed way."

"Ah. I'd expect nothing less from Malfoy," Fred says plainly.

You sit down on a cold, stone bench, and the twins, naturally, seat themselves on either side of you.

"Why is that?" you ask.

"He's sad and scared of everything," George says. "And that's that."

Fred slides down into a slump, interlocking his fingers together and flipping them around to crack his knuckles. He then links his hands behind his neck, resting his head. "His father is a control freak, you know. A proud pureblood." He says the word like it tastes bad in his mouth.

You laugh. "Aren't the Weasley's a pureblood family?"

"Yeah. It's only that other purebloods like Malfoy and his father give us a bad rep," George says. "We don't want to be associated with them at all."

"Anyway," Fred continues. "It's safe to assume that Malfoy didn't have a good childhood. And..." He sits up, getting close so he can whisper, "There are rumors that Malfoy's father is a death eater."

"Really?" you gasp. "You don't mean..."

"A follower of You-Know-Who," George whispers. "That is sure to put some kind of weight on Malfoy's shoulders, even if he isn't one himself... yet."

Though this news is shocking, it doesn't surprise you as much as it should. You'd never met Malfoy's father before, but from what you remembered about him from your dream...

"It was just a dream," you say, shaking your head. "It doesn't mean anything."

"That's not true. It at least means you've been thinking about Malfoy," Fred teases.

This comment catches you off-guard. "W-well, he's made it very clear that he despises me, and the feeling is mutual. We only dream about the people and things we feel most strongly about, and he is someone I have very strong feelings of hatred for."

Fred and George only nod. You can tell they are tempted to press the matter further, but they don't. Instead they habitually make it about themselves.

"'...the people and things we feel most strongly about...'" George recollects out loud.

"Have you ever dreamt about us, y/n?" Fred asks slyly. Both twins turn their bodies toward you, each resting an arm on the back of the bench behind you.

You giggle. "I think so."

"You think so?" the twins echo in unison.

You nod. "See... I don't recall having any dreams about you two... directly; I don't remember seeing your faces. But, I have had plenty of dreams with things that could be... symbolic of you. I have dreams and remember them so often that I can sometimes notice a pattern. Lately, there's been a repetition of pairs."

"Go on," Fred and George encourage, obviously very interested in what you have to say.

"For example, I had a dream about flying on the back of a two-handed dragon. It didn't mean anything to me then, but, now that I think about it, it happened not long after I'd officially met you both. And then... I dreamt I found two stray kittens on the street back in England. They were orange." You look up from your lap and laugh at the expressions on Fred's and George's faces.

"That was definitely us!" Fred exclaims excitedly.

"I dunno," says George. "I always imagined that, if I were an animal, it'd be something a bit bigger and more intimidating than a... kitten." He scrunches his nose up in disapproval.

You chuckle. "I'll have you know that, after I took the cats into my home and cared for them, they grew up to be giant tigers."

The twins' eyebrows rise in surprise. "That's us," they quickly agree, nodding fervently. You laugh.

"And there's one more," you add. "Not that it matters, but do you remember that dream I had about the basilisk?"

George clicks his tongue. "Yes, yes. Now that I call a nightmare."

"Don't tell us there were actually two basilisks," Fred chortles.

You shake your head. "No, thank goodness. One was bad enough." You shiver at the thought and the chilly, winter air, and Fred and George scoot in closer to keep you warm. "No, it was before I fell into the river that I noticed at each end of the bridge I stood on was a way out amidst all the fog. I... fell through the bridge because I couldn't decide in time which path to go to."

"And you think we are the... pathways," Fred clarifies thoughtfully.

"Yes...?" you awkwardly chuckle. "This was when I was... I mean, when my feelings were, you know... torn. Before I felt comfortable with... loving both of you..." You trail off and look around in nervousness, making sure that no one else can hear your conversation.

"Aw, you're so cute, y/n!" George coos. He wraps his arms around you in an affectionate, tight squeeze.

"...Why? I mean, wait, stop! I told you last night no more hugs!" you giggle desperately. You squirm in an attempt to free yourself, but then Fred hugs you from the other side and you lose all hope of escaping.

You sigh in frustration, "You two can be so aggravating," as the twins confine you to the bench.

Just then, the clocktower dongs.

"We gotta go to class!" You make one last effort to slither down past the twins' long, strong arms, but it's pointless. Fred and George then, as if to rub it in further, mush your face between theirs with a kiss on each of your cheeks.

They hold that pose as the other students in the courtyard begin to file back indoors, and you receive skeptical looks as they pass you by. You feel self conscious not because you look stupid, but because there are two guys kissing you at the same time so out in the open.

"Pfeaple are shtaring at ush," you manage to say with your squished mouth. It's only then that Fred and George release you, and you scramble to your feet.

"Your reputation began to diminish the moment you first started talking to us," Fred sighs jokingly. "Why do you still care about what other people think of you?"

"I... I honestly don't know," you chuckle wearily. "But I should really be getting to class."

"You needn't bother going to class if you don't plan on finishing the school year," George says presumptuously as you start to walk away.

You stop and make a half-turn, saying, "For now, I do plan on finishing the school year." And with that, you continue towards Divination.

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[joka13]

You're welcome🫠🫠🫠🧡

[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 2

WARNINGS: mentions of death

You had an unexpectedly wonderful time.

You opened your birthday gifts, receiving a book from your mother, a scarf (knitted by Mrs. Weasley) from the Weasley family, and a simple though lovely pair of silver earrings mailed from your grandmother.

It seemed childish at first, but you enjoyed having "Happy Birthday" sung to you as your mother carried your cake to the table. You closed your eyes, making a wish as you blew out the candles and everyone cheered.

After being dished a slice, you brought your dessert and new book to the living room couch. You took your sweet time opening to the first page, smiling at the popping sound of the book's fresh binding and running your fingers over the clean, smooth paper.

Soft chuckling startled you away from your delight. You hadn't noticed George, who stood in the doorway to the dining room. He leaned against the frame casually with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on you.

"Oh, excuse me! Am I interrupting something?" he teased.

"No, no!" you laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed that he caught you in a vulnerable moment. You closed your book and set it on a side table for later. "Come in."

He did. George sat down on the other end of the sofa in a slouch, sighing leisurely. "What I'd give to feel the way you looked just now," he sniggered. He meant it jokingly, but the distant look in George's eyes abruptly reminded you of his brother's passing, making his comment seem very sad.

You laughed, trying to keep the mood light. "Nothing makes me so happy as opening a brand-new book. There's something so... satisfying about it."

George nodded. "Hmm... I think I remember feeling similarly when I was younger every time I opened a chocolate frog. I used to collect—"

You gasped in excitement, cutting him off. "I remember those! My dad used to bring them home for me... every now and then..." You trailed off as you remembered vaguely your father telling you about a particular chocolate frog card featuring a famous witch.

"Ah, that's right. You're... probably not buying much wizard candy these days," said George, and you're thankful that he continued the topic of sweets instead of your father.

"Nope," you said bluntly. "Even if I tried, I don't think I could. I assume I'm not allowed."

George surprised you with a disbelieving snort. "There's no way you wouldn't be allowed. You're a... a squib..." He paused, as if expecting you to be offended, but you only waited patiently for him to go on. "Not a muggle. As far as I know, no one should reject you, especially candy shops."

"Really?"

"Really. And if they did, it'd most likely be for your own safety." He laughed. "Now that I think about it, I definitely wouldn't want you in my shop without my close supervision."

"You own a candy shop?" you asked in astonishment.

He chuckled smugly, taking pleasure in your amaze. "I do! Well, I sell more than candy. It's a joke shop really."

"Oh, I wish I could see it!" you groaned and imagined all of the fantastic things you were missing out on.

George's expression changed to something of consideration. "Now that you know you're allowed, the only reason you don't is because you have no way of getting there, correct?" he asked.

"...Pardon?"

He gave a lop-sided smile and sat up straight, leaning toward you in excitement. "How would you like to come with me? To my shop I mean. I can even show you 'round all of Diagon Alley if you'd like!"

"Really?"

George laughed. "Really!"

"I would like that very much!" you said, grinning ecstatically, but your smile began to fade away. "Although... I'll have to talk over it with my mother first. She worries about me enough already..." It was then that you started to worry. You'd always dreamed of exploring places where witches and wizards gathered, let alone the famed Diagon Alley. But, since the Weasley's made you feel so happy that night, you'd forgotten for a time about your new little fear of magic until now.

George seemed to notice your anxiety. "Well, you can tell her that you'll be in good hands," he said cheerily. "I know that spot like the back of my hand, and we'll only do what you want to."

His words comforted you only somewhat. It wasn't that you didn't trust George; he was a childhood friend. You were more concerned about the other wizarding folk you might encounter in Diagon Alley.

At that moment, your mother walked into the room carrying a full tea tray. "Hello," she said as she set the tray down on the mini table in front of you and George. "I thought this would go nicely with the cake."

"Thanks, Mrs. y/l/n!" said George, moving to pour you and himself a cup.

"Yes, thank you," you said, though it was only out of politeness. Something about the way Mum was acting seemed suspicious.

She nodded. "You're very welcome." When you expected her to leave and go back to conversing with George's parents, she didn't. "I couldn't help but overhear something about a trip to Dragon Alley," Mum said, and you could tell she was trying to mask enthusiasm.

Ah, there it is, you thought to yourself.

"It's Diagon Alley. And yeah, George offered to take me. That is, if it sits well with you," you said. You weren't yet entirely sure if you wanted to go, but Mum's opinion would solidify your decision either way.

"Oh, of course!" Mum responded, all too encouraging, and you wondered if she had been intentionally eves-dropping on your conversation with George. "You are an adult now, your own person! You don't need me to tell you what to do or not do. Just stay safe and have fun! Enjoy the tea!" And with that, Mum went back to sit with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the dining room.

George sipped his tea noisily to catch your attention, eyeing you with raised eyebrows.

You chuckled awkwardly. "I suppose that's out of the way now..."

"My schedule is open on Thursday," he said and proceeded to drink his tea whilst staring at you.

"Hmm... Alright. Let's do it."

"I'll pick you up at 10:00?"

"That's fine."

"It's a date then!" George stated gladly, placing his empty cup back on the tray.

You weren't sure of what he meant exactly when he said "date", but all that really mattered to you at that moment was the fact that you had plans to visit Diagon Alley. The Diagon Alley: only the biggest wizarding shopping district in the UK! You could scarcely believe it.

You took a sip of your tea.

During the next forty-five minutes, you listened to George list all the things you could do on Thursday while at Diagon Alley. It made you so excited that, by the time Mr. Weasley came to tell George it was time for them to go, your face hurt from smiling so excessively.

You and Mum bid the Weasley's goodnight, and each of the three Weasley's bid you one more happy birthday before leaving.

"See you Thursday," George said as he was the last to step off your front porch, and you were taken aback when his smile disturbed the butterflies in your stomach. They had been dormant for so long, you had almost forgotten what it felt like.

"I look forward to it," you replied, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from grinning stupidly, and closed the door. You turned around to come face to face with Mum, who was all but jumping up and down with eagerness.

"So? Tell me what's happening!" she demanded.

"He's gonna come get me at 10:00 on Thursday, and we'll just go from there!" you responded, and your own giddiness surprised you. You then pointed an accusatory finger at Mum. "Don't think I didn't know exactly what you were doing with that tea nonsense!" you laugh.

She giggled, shrugging shamelessly. "I've got to play my part as your mother! You might have chickened out if I hadn't."

"Wha— 'chickened out'?" you repeated.

Mum nodded. "You were this close," she said, holding her fingers together in a pinch. "Ever since you graduated highschool and your father passed away, you've really made an effort to hide away in this house. I want you to get out and... grow!"

You opened your mouth to make a rebuttal, but Mum interrupted.

"And you want it, too," she added. "You just don't know it yet."

"I understand where you're coming from, but I don't imagine getting a tour of the magical world is an easy start to 'getting out'," you snorted. "Aren't you a little bit... you know... afraid?"

Mum took a moment to think over your question. "Well, if I'm being honest, no," she said. "The threat that You-Know-Who... Voldemort and his followers posed is gone. Sure, there are still bad people, but that's just how the world is no matter where you are. You can't afford to be scared of reality, my dear."

You sighed. "I know. You're right."

"I always am," Mum chuckled. "I'm not sure why you were angry at me. I helped get you a date with a cute boy." She winked and nudged you in the ribs.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks a million," you snickered, rolling your eyes. "For the record, I'm an adult now; I don't date cute boys. I date handsome, young men."

Mum laughed. "That's more like it!" She then kissed you on the forehead, following with a hug. "Goodnight, y/n. And happy birthday."

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[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 32

WARNINGS: British swearing, light kissing

"What... exactly do you mean by that?" you ask, confused but intrigued.

George comes around to face you, reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Now the twins stand side by side before you, both absolutely bubbling with excitement. They obviously want to spit everything out at once, but they control themselves and talk slowly.

"We've been planning something... something big for a long while now," says George.

Fred nods enthusiastically in agreement. "Even before we met you. And before we met you, our Skiving Snackboxes were the only thing left to complete."

"You, of course, helped us immensely with that," George continues. "Damned nougats. I don't think I'll ever eat another one again... Anyway, we not only gained the perfect counter recipe for the nosebleed nougat..."

"We were also so very lucky to find the perfect girl—"

"Wait, wait, wait," you interrupt Fred, holding up a hand. "Rewind. What is it that you've been planning?"

"Right, we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we?" Fred chuckles.

"We are going to leave Hogwarts," George breathes. He and Fred watch you intensely as you absorb the new information.

You can't quite grasp the idea at first. "Just... leave?"

George runs a hand through his red hair nervously. "Well, yeah. But, as I said, we have a plan..."

You remain silent and concentrated as the twins go on to explain everything. They remind you of how it has been their dream to someday open their own joke shop. You learn that Harry (who had won the Triwizard Tournament the previous school year) ended up giving his prize money to Fred and George so they could do just that. That is why the twins had been so eager to finish the Skiving Snackboxes, for one cannot have a shop without enough products to sell.

"We've never been real fans of school, and that bloody Umbridge only gave us more reason to get out of here as fast as we can," George snorts.

"And we want you to come with us," Fred says, smiling softly.

You don't know how to respond. Your mind spins with questions as you still struggle to comprehend the twins' words: leave Hogwarts? With Fred and George Weasley? What would your life turn into if you did? What would your parents say? What would anyone say...?

It's all too much, and you suddenly feel lightheaded, but by sheer willpower you stay standing. This moment is too important to have you passing out.

"You want me... t-to live with you?" you stutter in disbelief.

There's a moment of silence as the twins exchange looks of concern. When they meet your eyes again, it is with the most sincere expressions of adoration.

"I hope it's been quite obvious for a while now," Fred says, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks into your eyes with a focus that makes you feel like the only girl in the whole world. "Though you do have a habit of overthinking things... Y/n..."

"We love you," Fred and George say in unison.

"I love you," says George.

"And I love you," says Fred.

They said it. They said those three little words, and it's to you. Fred and George Weasley love you, together and individually.

George then speaks in a tone you have never heard from him before. It's very quiet, humble even, yet emotional. "We would be the most fortunate of men if you would have us..." He looks down at the floor for a brief moment, clearing his throat as if he has more to say, but he doesn't continue. He instead looks up at you with the biggest puppy-dog eyes, and you can't tell if he's doing it on purpose.

"Aww..." You can feel yourself blushing extremely. "I don't know what to say other than I love you, too," you giggle, choking back tears of joy. "More than you can imagine."

"Oh, I'm sure I can imagine just fine," Fred snorts as he and George observe your expression.

"Yes, you would be living with us," says George after a moment. "But..." He chooses his words carefully. "...it would be so much more than that." He reaches for your hands and engulfs them between his own large, warm palms.

Fred nods. "We would take care of you just as we know you would care for us."

Then both of the twins simultaneously let out a wistful sigh, as if happily picturing the future they could have with you. George lifts one of your hands to his face and closes his eyes as he feels your fingertips against his cheek.

At a loss for words, you look at Fred. He responds by grinning crookedly before taking your other hand, slowly bowing low to press his lips to the back of it, all the while attaining burning eye contact. You hadn't noticed the Room's lights dimming until George's eyes open, and you can't look away from the two gleaming, green pairs of eyes in the near darkness. You should be used to it by now, but you are once again amazed by the twins synchronization when you feel their sly smiles brush against the skin on your hands at the same time.

The brothers move up, their mouths beginning to explore your wrists, and you are torn apart when you realize what they're doing. They're buttering you up, hoping that this lovely display of affection will win you over. You so gravely want to let them do it, but you also know that you shouldn't act rashly and should really ponder on your decision...

"Oh... oh, stop it," you whine.

"Stop what?" asks Fred innocently. He proceeds to roll your sleeve up and begin a trail of kisses up your arm.

You laugh wearily, gently tugging your arm away from him. "You know... trying to make my choice for me."

The twins sigh again, though this time out of disappointment.

"Alrighty then. Goodnight, y/n," George says a little too acceptingly and moves in for a hug, but you quickly back away from him.

"No, no! No hugs, thanks," you chuckle. "If I know you two, I know you don't give up so easily."

"Ah, but that's exactly why you love us!" Fred sweeps around and behind you too fast for you to react, bending low to your ear and whispering, "And that is exactly why we love you."

You're not quite sure what he means, but the way he speaks is enough to send the general message. Fred kisses your cheek before casually strolling away toward the nougat concoction.

"Yeah," agrees George thoughtfully. "That is how it is, isn't it?"

You roll your eyes as George kisses your other cheek. He then follows in Fred's footsteps, assisting in packing away the rest of the magical candy.

"I don't catch your meaning, though I don't suppose I'm meant to," you huff in slight annoyance.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Fred says in a motherly, mocking tone, and George laughs.

"Pfft. Goodnight," you chuckle, shaking your head and heading for the door.

"Goodnight, y/n. Sleep well," the twins say together, pausing to watch you leave.

You lie wide awake in bed, screaming internally. (You would actually scream if it weren't for the other people sleeping in your dorm.) You still can't believe what happened only an hour ago. First, you finished the nosebleed nougat. That was a special event by itself, but then the twins went on to practically beg you to elope with them!

You'd thought that you'd be too emotionally exhausted to have trouble falling asleep, but your mind spins with doubt and incredulity. It demands that you reject the twins' proposal. If you didn't, hardships that you never imagined yourself facing would arise from every angel. To say the least, it wouldn't sit well with your parents in any way, shape, or form. You wouldn't finish school and would, therefore, feel the wrath of the Ministry (more specifically the Department of Magical Education). Society all together would likely shame you for your decision.

The thought of running away with Fred and George fills your mind with anxiety. But, despite all reasoning, it also fills your heart with rapture. If you went with them, you would be happy. Life would become difficult if you said yes to Fred and George, but life will be difficult no matter your choice. If you didn't choose the Weasley twins, you would suffer having lost the loves of your life, and you aren't sure if you could do that...

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[joka13]

😖❤️❤️❤️

[joka13]

Hey can I please request a post war George Weasley x squib reader where she lives with her muggle mum (her wizard dad died in the war) and has been away from the wizarding world for a long time and george kinda brings her back to it thanks Xx

Helloooo👋 What an interesting idea! I enjoyed exploring the more melancholy aspects of the wizarding world, so thanks for the suggestion. Hope you enjoy!🫶

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Dear reader,

As you may or may not know, I post extensive, multiple part fanfiction stories. I must remind you or clarify that I do not consider any requests I write as parts of those stories. Thank you for reading❤️

FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 1

WARNINGS: mentions of violence and death

Birthday. Every year before, the word had brought feelings of excited anticipation and joy, but today it only made you feel down (and that was an extreme understatement).

That evening you would have your first birthday celebration without your father. Almost nine months ago, he died in the Second Wizarding War, leaving you and your muggle mother magicless except for a few trinkets, including his wand.

You kept it with you at all times. Not because it would be of any use to you (because it wouldn't), but for it's sentimental value. Of course, the wand reminded you of dear Dad, but it also brought to your mind the wonderful things he used to talk about.

When you were younger, as a squib it was complete torture to only hear stories and see small tricks from your father when you couldn't go explore the wizarding world and practice magic for yourself. But, after the war and learning more about the dark side of magic, a part of you came to despise and fear it. It was difficult to feel anything else for the thing that killed your father.

Though, sometimes, when you were alone with only your dad's wand to keep you company, you would be tempted to hold it, to point it and cast pretend spells like you did when you were little. You imagined yourself commanding your bedroom to tidy itself or your cat to talk back when you asked him a question. But, no matter how hard you imagined it, you would never be able to wield magic. That was the sad truth. When your father was around, the truth was tolerable because he could. He could do all of those things and so much more, and he was so kind to show you even a sliver of what he knew.

But he was gone along with his magic. He died and you and your mum went on with your regular, muggle-styled lives. You had to tell everyone that your father died in a car crash. It hurt. You wanted everyone to know about your father's sacrifice, his bravery, and how he fought for a righteous cause. But they would never know...

"Y/n?" your mother said, pulling you away from your thoughts. You sat on the couch in the living room, failing to stay focused enough to read the book in your hands while Mum iced your birthday cake in the kitchen.

"Yeah?" you replied.

"Did you hear me?"

"No, sorry. I was distracted."

"It's alright. I was just saying Mr. and Mrs. Weasley want to pop by for a quick visit tonight to wish you a happy birthday."

Oh no. Please, no more condolences, you thought.

"Okay. Thanks for letting me know," you sigh wearily.

"Hey, don't be like that." Mum wiped her hands on her apron as she went to sit on the couch beside you. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders affectionately. "The Weasley's are good friends."

"I suppose... It's just been so long... too long since I have seen them," you said. "And they had a son die in the war."

Mum blinked in concern and confusion. "Well, yes, but I don't see why that would make them unwelcome."

You rested your head on her arm. "It's just that... they're gonna want to talk about Dad, and then it would be rude not to mention their son... It'll turn into a pity party instead of a birthday party."

"You're being ridiculous," Mum scoffed, but you could tell she understood your point just fine. "Besides, they have a present for you. And we can't eat the cake all by ourselves."

"What's wrong with leftovers?"

It was Mum's turn to sigh. "I'm sorry, but they insisted on coming. It's good of them to reach out to us. And it's just a quick visit."

"Might as well get it over with. It was bound to happen anyway."

"Y/n—"

"Yes, yes, I know better than to act like this in front of them. Don't worry. I'll be nice."

You truly didn't want to talk about the war, but you didn't want to see the Weasley's also because they had magic. You never told your mother about your new fear of witches and wizards because you thought it was silly. You knew there was plenty of good magic, or rather good uses for magic. Magic doesn't kill. Your father never endangered you or your mum, but there were bad people in the wizarding world just like the bad people in the muggle world.

When you heard a knock on the front door that evening, your heart leapt with panic. Even though you knew Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were good people, a part of you was afraid of them.

"Mum, the Weasley's are here!" you called behind you. Mum hurried out of the kitchen to come stand behind you, leaving it up to you to open the door. You took in a deep, nervous breath as you reached for the knob and opened the door.

"Happy birthday, y/n!" Mrs. Weasley greeted you cheerily. She stood on the ends of her small feet to kiss you on the cheek, embracing you like you were her own child. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm alright, thanks. How are you guys?"

"Good!" Mr. Weasley responded, walking through the door behind his wife. He shook your hand enthusiastically. "Happy birthday, y/n!"

"T-thank you..." You began to feel emotional, remembering the love you had for the Weasley family and their caring, happy ways. Before you could get teary-eyed, another person walked through the door behind Mr. Weasley, surprising you.

You were taken aback, believing for a moment that Fred, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's son who was killed in the war, was standing in front of you. But you knew that was impossible, and you also knew that Fred had a twin. So, the young man must've been Fred's twin, George.

"Hello, y/n! Happy birthday!" he said, grinning crookedly and handing you a brown, paper bag.

You smiled, laughing awkwardly as you accepted the gift. "George, hello! What a pleasant surprise."

"Yeah, sorry about that," George chuckled, closing the door behind him. "I wasn't invited, I know. But I liked the thought of... reintroducing myself since the last time we saw each other. I was just a kid then, probably immature—"

Mrs. Weasley snorted as she pulled your mother in for a hug. "You say that like you've matured so much!"

You all laugh.

"I have! Just not enough to get rid of my good sense of humor," George snickered.

"I think I was about nine when I saw you last," you say, reminiscing about the Weasley's magical house. "It was Thanksgiving, wasn't it?"

"Yes, I remember it," George chuckled, nodding. "Your eyes opened so wide at everything; I thought they were going to fall out of your skull!"

Mrs. Weasley shot George a warning glance, but you pretended not to notice, and laughed, "I'm sure I'd still have the same reaction now."

"And how old are you today, y/n?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Eighteen," you replied.

Mr. Weasley's brow furrowed. "Isn't that a significant age for muggles?"

"Well, I can vote now, but—"

"And how exactly does that work?" Mr. Weasley asked, intrigued.

"Oh, don't bother the poor girl with questions," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I'd be happy to tell you about it sometime, Arthur," Mum chuckled. "For now, how about we open presents!"

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[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 31

WARNINGS: light kissing

"Merlin's beard..." Fred whispers in disbelief.

"We've done it!" you exclaim, squealing cheerily and clapping your hands together.

"No," George says. "You've done it!" He stands up, taking your hand and leading you into an energetic dance. You both laugh as he spins you around.

"I hardly did anything," you humbly point out. "The Room gave me the last ingredient."

Before you can think about it, George passes you to Fred, who rolls his eyes and says, "Whatever! You found all of the other pieces." He ends the dance with a dip. As he cradles you in his arms, Fred leans down so his face is only inches away from yours. You can't help but giggle as he proceeds to plant multiple kisses all over your face. "Thank you, y/n," Fred says sincerely, then kisses you once more on the lips.

"Aww," you swoon and blush as Fred lifts you upright. "It was nothing really..."

"Let's collect the remaining nougat!" George says, rubbing his hands together excitedly before placing his bag on the table by the cauldron. "We can start selling tomorrow!"

Fred goes to help his twin carefully cut the purple candy into small rectangles. "Our Skiving Snackboxes are now complete!"

At hearing these words, a feeling of dread wells up inside you. The first time you'd felt this particular dread, you'd told yourself to simply stop worrying. But now that the moment had come in which the Weasley twins would no longer have use for your academic skills, you begin to panic.

"No... no, no, no, no..." you whisper. You turn away so that Fred and George don't see the tears in your eyes. But, before you can pull yourself together, the twins notice that something is wrong. The shuffling sounds at the table behind you stop.

"Y/n?" Fred asks.

"Are you alright?" George finishes.

"I-I'm fine," you reply, though your shaky voice betrays you.

You cover your face in shame as you hear the twins' footsteps coming toward you.

"Hey, hey," Fred's voice says softly, concerned. You feel his fingers try to coax your hands away from your face, but you keep your palms tight over your leaking eyes, moving away and accidentally bumping into George.

George steadies you with a gentle hug. "What's the matter?" he asks.

You choke. "It's stupid..."

"Your feelings aren't stupid," Fred consoles. His fingers pry at yours once again, and this time you let him pull your hands away from your face. You look up to meet his eyes as he stands behind George, resting his chin on his brother's shoulder. He gives you an empathetic, crooked smile. The sight of it overwhelms you, bringing more tears to your eyes, and you hide your face against George's chest.

"Talk to us," George encourages. He rubs your back soothingly.

You take in a deep breath. "I... I got t-the idea into m-my head a while back... that when I was finished h-helping you with project nosebleed..." you sniff. "You wouldn't... w-want me around anymore..."

For a moment that felt like a lifetime, neither of the twins speak. Then you feel George's hold loosen around you, and you look up at his face in confusion.

"You're right," George says, his brow furrowing and his mouth in a frown. "That is stupid."

"George!" Fred hisses at him, but you just chuckle gingerly.

"I know, I know..."

George takes a step back as Fred quickly comes forward to hold your hands. He kisses the top of each. You won't look him in the eyes, so he crouches down to where he can see yours.

"Y/n," Fred sighs, shaking his head and smiling. "Have our previous affections meant nothing to you?"

You start to defend yourself. "W-well, there are some people in this world—"

You hadn't noticed him come up behind you, so you gasp in surprise when George's arms snake around your waist. He kisses the top of your head and continues, going down your temple and to your ear. He nibbles at it, causing you to giggle and squirm, but he holds you in place.

"We have no intention of ever leaving you," George whispers into your ear, and you love the sound of his voice, for something about it makes you sure he's telling the truth.

"In fact," Fred begins, pausing to glance at George attentively. You sense a moment of tension, and then George nods. Fred grins ecstatically and goes on. "We were hoping you would leave with us."

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[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): Weasley Twins x Reader (Hufflepuff Girl) - Lovesick - Part 5/5

WARNINGS: British swearing, vomiting

Never before had the Weasley twins experienced anxiety in such a way as this. Throughout their whole lives, they'd grown more and more accustomed to not having a single care in the world. Within only mere seconds they had gained something, or rather someone, that caused them to become literally ill because they didn't know if she felt the same way about them. This was the day Fred and George would confess their love to you. They were determined to do so, but the possibility of your rejection was unexpectedly the most frightening thing they had ever faced.

"George," Fred whined over an untouched plate of bacon and eggs. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"You are sick," George said. He began to cough, resulting in a lapful of petals.

"Do I look terrible? Because you look terrible."

"Thanks. You look as healthy as a horse with an infected leg wound yourself."

A short moment later, Harry and Ron sat down with the twins for breakfast.

"Morning," Fred and George said together.

Harry looked up at the twins, appearing slightly concerned. "You two sound like—"

"Aah!" Ron exclaimed in alarm at beholding his brothers' sickly, colorless faces. "Bloody hell, are you guys... vampires?"

George, who sat next to Ron, turned to face him directly right before sneezing. The twins laughed weakly as Ron was littered with petals.

Ron blinked, wearing an expression of vague surprise. Then a knowing grin spread across his face. "That's right! You guys are in love!"

"Aren't vampires supposed to be sexy nowadays?" Fred asked, smiling loftily and ignoring Ron's comment.

"Right, because that's exactly what I was thinking when I called you a vampire," Ron snorted sarcastically as he brushed himself off. "Nah, you'd be the sort of vampire that's just plain scary. The sort that feeds off homeless people and stray dogs." Ron squinted at the twins and stroked an invisible beard, observing. "You'd probably live in a cave with only bats for friends. And your back story—"

"Alright, we get it," Fred and George huffed in annoyance.

"Hold on... How'd you know about the, er, Hanky-wanky disease?" George asked.

Ron laughed. "Harry had it a while back."

"Ron!" Harry hissed angrily.

Ron shrugged. "What? It wasn't much of a secret."

Fred chuckled, "Hmm, yes. Ms. Chang was it?"

"We didn't need to see you hacking up flower petals to know that you fancied her," George laughed, and his laughing quickly turned into a petal-spewing coughing fit.

"Speaking of," Harry said, trying to change the subject. "Who is it that you fancy?"

"Now that's a secret," said George.

"At least until we can call her ours," said Fred.

"'Ours'?" Harry and Ron repeated together, confused.

Fred pointed to the top side of his bare wrist with a sudden urgency. "Would you look at the time! We'd best be going."

"Don't want to be late for class," George agreed as he and his twin stood up to leave.

"Since when did you care so much about making it to class on time?" Ron asked, suspicious. "The clock tower hasn't even rung."

"Don't worry about it, Ronald!" the twins called out behind them on their way to the doors.

They overheard Hermione, who was just now arriving at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, ask, "Why are there flower petals everywhere?"

Fred and George laughed, then coughed, and exited the Great Hall while leaving a trail of more pink petals in their wake.

As you headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, you could not stop yawning. Since your meeting with the Weasley twins that day in Filch's office, you hadn't gotten much sleep. Though, during the times in which you had slept, you had wonderful dreams of Fred and George, so you were not all that upset about it.

It was the flower petals that drove you absolutely mad. Frankly, it was embarrassing; it was terrible to have your situation made so obvious to everyone around you (or at least to those that knew about the Hanahaki illness) every time you coughed in the middle of a class. And the retched petals made an appearance so often now that you stopped bothering to clean them up. You'd decided that you would tolerate the disease no longer, and you would tell the Weasley twins about your feelings for them the first opportunity that was given. You wished you'd known only how soon that would be when you turned a corner to be met face to face with none other than Fred and George Weasley.

"Oh! H-hello, Fred. Hi, George," you laughed nervously, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. This was it!

"Hello, y/n!" the twins responded a bit too enthusiastically, also surprised at the encounter.

Then, all at once, you hiccupped, George sneezed, and Fred began to cough.

You felt utterly embarrassed as you spat out a couple of petals onto the floor, but that feeling was quickly overwhelmed by astonishment as you realized that Fred and George had flower petals falling out of their mouths, too. Then you noticed how very unwell the brothers looked. In fact, their complexions matched the one you saw on yourself in the bathroom mirror that morning. It was in that moment that it dawned on you...

"Wait," George sniffed, his brow furrowing in puzzlement. He pointed to the small amount of flower petals by your feet. "Do you...?"

You gestured to the many, many petals spread out in front of the twins, grinning uncontrollably. "Are you two...?"

Your smile disappeared as Fred finished coughing, his eyes opening wide. He turned away, putting a hand on the nearby wall to steady himself.

"Freddie?" George asked. "Are you alright?'

As if in response, Fred proceeded to throw up a strange, pink liquid with flower petals instead of partially digested food.

"Aw," George groaned, looking away in disgust. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to that."

You stood back, wanting to help Fred but not sure of how you could. Then you remembered why you wanted to talk to the twins in the first place.

Though it was now an awkward time for it, you confessed. "Fred!" you called, making sure he'd hear you. "I... I like you!"

Fred, having stopped vomiting up the pink substance, slowly stood up straight. "Wow," he said, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe and turning to face you again. "I feel so much better." He looked much better too. Color had already begun to return to his face, and the dark circles under his eyes faded slightly.

You sighed with relief, relief that Fred was feeling better and that it meant he had feelings for you.

"And you, George!" you chuckled gingerly, turning to him. "I like y-you as well."

Though he had seemed to realize it moments ago when he saw your petals, George appeared to relax now that you'd said it out loud. He smiled blissfully as the illness visibly drained out of him.

"Now..." you said as you started to feel a bit sick to your stomach. "You say it back before I barf, too."

The twins gave a hearty laugh, very obviously feeling better, before each getting down on one knee in front of you.

"We love you, y/n!" they exclaimed simultaneously, putting one hand on their chests and extending the other towards you.

You grinned, feeling, in that single moment, whole again in more ways than one. Your stomach immediately felt better, and that awful feeling of something unhealthy sitting somewhere deep inside you that had gradually increased over time quickly melted away. You took in a deep breath, grateful for the clearness of your lungs that you had begun to think you'd never experience again, and exhaled in satisfaction. Though you now felt well again physically, you also felt a happiness so great that you couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"You!" a rough, angry voice yelled from behind the twins. Fred and George turned around, and you caught a glimpse of Filch walking towards them with clenched fists. "You took out one of your toys here, didn't you?" he growled, pointing to the pink vomit on the floor. "Just so that I would have to clean up after you!"

"Run!" Fred and George giggled together, not wanting to bother explaining anything to Filch, and turned to hurriedly usher you forward. You laughed as the three of you raced away with Filch cursing behind you.

TAG LIST: @tomhockstetter7-111 @jasm-1ne @costheticbabe @luthien-elvenia-asher @megablonde22 @thecuteavocado @weasleylady92 @websfromallthespiders @rubyintheforest @weasleylover4eva @georgeweasleyslostearhq @im-coolrat @them-cute-boys @xmadigurlx @keirasinbin @huayan

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 30

WARNINGS: mentions of child abuse

"No," you say out loud, taking your hand back.

It's not right for a student to be punished with physical harm (or any kind of harm for that matter). You're not one hundred percent sure that's what Professor Umbridge has planned for your detention, but the possibility of it is enough to keep you from entering her office. Just as you turn around to head back down to the Great Hall, you find Fred and George running towards you up the stairs.

"Y/n!" the twins call out to you, and butterflies in your stomach come to life at hearing them say your name.

"Fred! George!" you reply, grinning as relief flows over you now that you've made the decision not to go to detention with Umbridge.

"Don't do it!" George huffs, panting heavily.

"I know you're accustomed to being a goody-goody, but this isn't worth it," Fred wheezes.

You snort and roll your eyes. "Not to worry; I don't need convincing. I'm hardly a 'goody-goody' after sticking around you two almost everyday since the beginning of the school year."

The twins share a sigh of relief.

"Dinner!" you exclaim. "I get to have dinner!"

"Hooray!" the twins shout.

"We'll have to be quick about it," Fred says as the three of you link arms and start for the Great Hall. "If you're not here for detention, Umbridge has no reason not to eat her own supper in the Great Hall, too."

And quick you are. (You've now disobeyed Umbridge twice within the last five hours, and you aren't eager to see what she'd do if you ran into her again.) You and the twins rush down to the Great Hall, gather as much food as you can carry, then run up to Fred's and George's dorm. All of the students should be having dinner at the moment, so now there is much less of a risk that you'll cause a fuss being seen in the Gryffindor common room.

You practically fall onto George's bed in exhaustion. "I'm never going up another flight of stairs for as long as I live," you cough, then abruptly realize that you're lying on George's bed. You sit up in a hurry, accidentally sending rolls flying out of your pockets. You go to pick up the rolls and hope that if your face is red Fred and George will believe it's because you'd been running.

The twins chuckle, looking just as, if not a little less, fatigued than you. Fred slumps down against the wall by the door while George takes a creaky, wooden chair on the other side of the room.

After gathering all of the fallen bread, you split the number between the three of you. Fred sets a bowl of green beans and noodles on the floor along with four oranges. George reveals more rolls and a whole bottle of "Otter's Fizzy Orange Juice", and you and George let out an approving whoop.

The three of you have gotten closer to share the food and are now all sitting on the floor in a circle. You eye the bowl of loose, wet green beans and noodles as you peel an orange and laugh. "I'd use 'Accio' to summon a fork for that, but that seems dangerous."

"Hmm. I didn't think about that," says Fred. "I wonder..." He proceeds to take out his wand, point it at the mess of food, and say, "Wingardium Leviosa," performing the swish and flick wand method.

Everyone watches silently as a single noodle rises slowly into the air. You giggle.

"I'm not sure what I was expecting, but that works I suppose," George snorts.

"Open wide, y/n!" Fred says, guiding the noodle over to you. You open your mouth, but the noodle lands on your nose and the three of you laugh.

About an hour later, after most of the food is gone, the realization of your situation finally sinks in.

"Oh, I'm just dreading what Umbridge might do to me," you groan.

"Here, have some fizzy orange juice," Fred says, taking a swig before passing the bottle.

You laugh weakly, "Drowning my worries in pop won't do me any good," but you drink it anyway.

"Don't you bother your pretty little head. What's she gonna do anyway? Expel you?" George snickers. He stops when he sees your expression change as you remember your conversation with Malfoy from earlier that day.

"...I'll just have to wait to make my complaints until after she's become headmistress," Malfoy had said. "Then she could do some real damage."

"Yeah. She might." You take a long drink.

"She couldn't," George says. "She doesn't have that kind of power... Even if she did, would it be so bad?"

Fred shoots George a look that you can't interpret, but before you can ask what it's for, Fred says, "You seem... irrationally concerned about this, y/n..."

"I'm not," you sigh. You then go on to tell the twins about your run in with Malfoy and his claims. Fred and George are quiet for a moment afterwards, but they handle it well altogether.

"I wouldn't be surprised actually," George says, clicking is tongue in disappointment.

Fred nods. "Me neither. She's gotten this far... I wasn't going to mention it because I didn't want to be the bringer of bad news, but have you heard about Professor Trelawney?"

Your stomach tightens. "Oh, no. What happened?"

"Since our last class with her," Fred speaks slowly. "Umbridge had her... sacked."

"What?!" you exclaim. "She can't do that!"

"Apparently, she can," George sighs. "Dumbledore couldn't do anything about it, other than demand that Trelawney still be allowed on school grounds."

"That's terrible..." You are truly sad. Despite the divination teacher being rather unpopular with most of the students, you have always been fond of Professor Trelawney, more so than any of your other professors even.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I know you'll miss her lessons," Fred consoles.

The door suddenly swings open, and a couple of the twins' roommates walk into the room.

"Y/n. Hello," Lee Jordon greets you awkwardly. "You're early."

"Ah, yes. I'll just, er, leave then," you say, quickly standing. You don't want to be here when the boys change into their pajamas.

"We'll come with you," Fred and George say simultaneously, and they follow you out the door.

"Where do we go?" you ask, nervous as the few Gryffindor's in the common room stare as you pass.

"How about the Room of Requirement?" George suggests.

"I am all for it," Fred says, grinning slyly and nodding his red eyebrows at you.

"Pff, if we go to the Room of Requirement, we're going to finish our Nosebleed Nougat," you giggle, becoming flustered at the memory of snogging Fred earlier. You shove him playfully. "We're so close. And we won't need to bring any of our materials."

George clears his throat loudly. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

You're grateful for the distraction. When you get to the Room of Requirement, everything you need is there and ready to go. You immediately get to work, putting together the concoction you had made so many times previously. Knowing that they'd only get in your way if they tried to help, Fred and George sit back on a comfy couch kindly provided by the Room and watch.

About an hour later, you think you're done putting all of the ingredients into the bubbling cauldron when you notice a tiny, glass bottle that you hadn't bothered to pick up. You are sure that you hadn't missed anything when you prepped all of the needed components...

You pick up the bottle and bring it closer to your face to better view the label, watching the strange, brown liquid inside slosh around, and read "Siccativus".

It suddenly dawns on you that the Room of Requirement had produced absolutely every ingredient you knew you needed to make the nougat... What if it also produced something you didn't know you needed?

With shaky hands, you do your best to carefully pull the cork out of the glass bottle before pouring its contents into the cauldron. You stir the blue, syrupy liquid and watch as it gradually turns purple. Blue was always as far as you got... until now.

You wait in impatience for about five minutes to let the liquid cool and harden. Then, using a small knife (provided by the Room), you cut out a small, purple rectangle.

"Fred... George..." You mumble, fixated on the sweet in your hand.

Both twins have dozed off and don't hear you over their own snoring. "Hey!" you shout, and the twins startle awake.

"Huh? What?" George yawns, rubbing his eyes.

"Eat this," you say, reaching into his bag and pulling out an orange nougat. You stuff it into his mouth. "Chew. Quickly. I think I've got it this time."

At hearing this, both twins appear much more alert and aware. George swallows. Seconds later, his nose begins to bleed profusely. You give him the purple nougat. George chews. George swallows.

Everyone holds their breath in anticipation, and the seconds seem to pass all too slowly. It's difficult to tell if the bleeding has stopped because there is already so much blood. You curse under your breath and turn around to search for a towel. You find one has appeared neatly folded by the cauldron. You grab and toss it at George's face.

"Ah. Thank you," George grunts, wiping the blood off his face. You and Fred watch his nostrils earnestly, just daring more blood to dribble out, but it doesn't. George's nosebleed has stopped.

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[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): Weasley Twins x Reader (Hufflepuff Girl) - Lovesick - Part 4/5

WARNINGS: none

You dreamt something magical.

You found yourself casually wondering about downstairs in the Hufflepuff common room. This particular room had always given you a warm, happy feeling, though not today. Today, the weather was grey and rainy outside, and the coldness of it seeped through the walls of Hogwarts. There was nothing to light your surroundings but a faint, clouded glow coming from above. Even the plants hanging from the balcony that circled the center of the room appeared to wilt depressingly.

Cold, dark, and sad. All of these things reflected the feeling that you held in your heart.

You were lonely. For all of your life, the things that brought you joy always drove others away from you. You were torn between two options: having friends or being yourself. You could only have one.

At some point, you realized that true friends would love you for who you are. You promised the world that from then on you would always be no one but yourself... You kept your promise, but naturally remained alone in doing so.

You couldn't stand it anymore. You stopped in the middle of the common room and fell to your hands and knees, weeping. You usually would've let this sort of emotion out while in the confinement of your dormitory so as to not to disturb other students, but you knew you wouldn't be bothering anyone because there was no one to bother. You knew that you were completely, utterly, and now even literally alone.

The echoes of your sobs rang loud, but no one would come running to comfort you. The tears rolling down your cheeks felt heavy, but no one would offer a handkerchief to dry them. Instead, you continued to cry and cry, watching your tears fall and become absorbed into the decorative rug you knelt on.

Then the large fireplace about ten feet in front of you that had been cold and flameless was suddenly bursting with green light.

Your cries were cut short by a gasp. You watched in awe as two identical boys with red hair and handsome smiles stepped out of the green fire. Despite the fire then quickly burning out, the room was no longer cold and dark, and the sorrow that had overwhelmed you only seconds ago seemed to haven't existed at all.

At the same time, the twins cocked their heads to the right, wearing worried expressions as they noticed the peculiar state you were in. They came forward and each held out a hand. You sniffed, chuckling weakly as you took their hands and the boys helped you to your feet.

"Are you alright?" the slightly taller twin asked as the other lifted his hand to wipe a tear from your cheek.

You weren't alone anymore. "I... I am now," you replied.

About every forty minutes, you would cough up petals, and there was a constant, aching pain in your chest. You'd heard of the Hanahaki disease before but never imagined that you'd ever suffer through it yourself. In the morning, you had gone to Madame Pomfrey for a treatment to ease your sudden illness, but the nurse wouldn't help. At least not yet. She promised to give you a cure if you weren't able to cure yourself the "natural" way. And so, you were tasked with admitting your feelings to... Fred and George Weasley.

Ever since your first day attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you'd greatly admired the Weasley twins. They were fantastic jokesters, knowing more than anyone how to have fun. You had viewed them more as celebrities and less as boyfriend opportunities. They were too good for you, and that was that.

But that brief moment with the twins in Filch's office gave you hope. You felt an instant connection with Fred and George (and that's saying something because you didn't often connect well with other people). This was also no ordinary connection. It was one of love. It all seemed too fast to call it love, but the fact that you had the Hanahaki disease was proof that it was full, real love.

Now, fear was the only thing keeping you from telling the twins of your love for them. You feared that your love wouldn't be returned, though not because it would do nothing to hinder the progress of the spreading roots within your body. You knew that Madame Pomfrey had something that could heal you physically, but emotionally? You weren't confident that there was such a remedy for heartbreak.

You sighed wearily as you made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. You knew you would hate yourself if you didn't confess. If you didn't try, you'd never know if there'd been a possible chance at friendship... or even love. Rejection was the worst that could happen, and you were quite used to that already (at least from any long-term, friendly social interaction you'd ever attempted in the past). You decided then and there that you were going to go for it.

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[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 29

WARNINGS: none

You don't go to your next class and instead head to the library. You pull a random book off the shelf, sit down at an unoccupied table, and start reading. You've always found comfort in the pages of a book no matter the issue, so it comes as a surprise when tears begin to blur your vision. You quickly hide behind your book, propping it up vertically on the tabletop.

You silently cry, and you wonder why. You know for certain that you're afraid of what Professor Umbridge might do to you during your detention, but that's not all. There's something else that's been bubbling up inside you for a long time, and it suddenly dawns on you that it has to do with Fred and George.

You realize that, ever since you met the Weasley twins, your school life has not been easy. You're always having to look over your shoulder to be sure that a teacher isn't watching you too closely. Your grades are dropping fast. You're getting detention. You lost your best friend to your enemy. All of these bad things have occurred and you know it'll only get worse if you continue to stay with the twins... Yet you feel that what you've gained throughout all of this completely outweighs your amount of loss.

The tears stop falling as you think of them: Fred and George. They make you feel happy. They make you more than happy; they make you free. When you're with them, you don't have a care in the world other than to make them feel as happy as you are. Before you met the twins, all you were concerned about was school, getting good grades, earning the respect of the professors, and whatnot. All of those are fine things, but... isn't this wonderful feeling worth so much more?

It is, you tell yourself, and you haven't been so sure of anything ever in your life.

You then remember the unexpected boldness that had driven you to almost telling Fred and George that you loved them. (You would have if old Umbridge hadn't spoiled the moment.) That boldness returns now as you relish the certainty of your genuine love for the Weasley twins. You quickly stand up, disturbing the silence of the library as the legs of your chair drag on the floor. The abrupt movement knocks the book you'd been pretending to read off the table. (Typically, you hold a much higher respect for texts of knowledge and would never dream of treating one so poorly, but right now you've got your mind totally set on something else.) Even if the truth is so obvious it'll sound silly when you do, you're going to profess your love for Fred and George as soon as possible!

You leave the book and rush to the library's exit. You're practically bouncing with joy and excitement as the words you plan to say to the twins form in your mind. Right as you come to the doorway, you smack into someone entering, sending you both to the floor.

"Y/l/n!" Malfoy's voice growls. Your happy emotions quickly give way to ones of hatred as you look up to see him getting back to his feet.

"Sorry," you mumble out of habit, then wish you could take it back.

"I ought to tell Professor Umbridge about your reckless behavior. You could have injured me," Malfoy sneers as you stand up.

You snort. "Oh, please. Don't be such a milksop."

"You won't be calling me such things once I get you in detention," Malfoy retorts.

You roll your eyes. "Don't bother. I've already got detention scheduled with the pink toad."

"Well, then," Malfoy says, grinning wickedly. "If that doesn't turn out to be enough punishment, I'll just have to wait to make my complaints until after she's become headmistress. Then she could do some real damage."

You raise an eyebrow in mild surprise at this. "What? Why would she ever be made headmistress? If anything happened to Dumbledore, I'm sure Professor McGonagall would be his replacement."

"But something has already happened to Dumbledore." Malfoy brushes past you, lingering too long when your shoulders touch. Your immediate desire is to move away, but now you're curious to hear what Malfoy has to say. "He's gone mad, you know," he half whispers into your ear. "And the Ministry of Magic will soon be wanting to make a... permanent statement about it."

Malfoy's words linger long after you leave the library. Though it's a bit early for dinner (not that you'll be around for when they serve it), you head down to the Great Hall, not wanting to be anywhere near Malfoy. You have a seat by yourself at the far end of the regular Slytherin table in hopes that no one will attempt conversation with you while you think.

Is what Malfoy implied really a possibility? You were upset about Umbridge's educational decrees when they first began making their appearances but also grateful that she didn't have any more power than that. She doesn't have the power... but the Ministry of Magic surely does. Could they really be so set on taking Dumbledore down if only for the sake of the students? Or is there more to it? If they truly cared about the education of Hogwarts' students, they wouldn't have sent someone like Umbridge to "put things in order". What you've read in the paper makes you think that the Ministry just doesn't want people to worry about You-Know-Who... Dumbledore's a very influential wizard, which is why they would need to hurt his reputation if he was wrong. But he's not, and, as far as you can tell, about one third of the public knows it, so the Ministry still has a good amount of opinions to win over... Is this the "something" that Maddy warned you about? Or would it only be the beginning...?

You aren't prepared for it when the intimidating dong of the clock tower lets you know the time: five o'clock.

You scramble off the bench and run as fast as you can through the halls and up the stairs, dodging students and faculty as you go. You'd hate to make Umbridge anymore upset with you by being late.

You reach the third floor, winded and panting heavily. For the first time, as you approach the door leading to Umbridge's office, true anxiety takes hold of you when you really imagine the situation that you're about to put yourself in. You feel sick. Every step closer to the door decorated with an ugly pink bow seems like an eternity, and you want to turn and run.

But you're a good student. You've always obeyed your professors because it's always been for your own good... Is this for your good? You extend a shaky hand toward the door handle...

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[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): Weasley Twins x Reader (Hufflepuff Girl) - Lovesick - Part 3/5

WARNINGS: British swearing

"Ah, yes," Madam Pomfrey said in an uncharacteristically happy tone. It was early in the morning and the twins stood anxiously in the entrance of the hospital wing as the school nurse examined the sample flower petal they had brought to her. "Witches and wizards in Japan call this the Hanahaki disease."

Fred's eyes widened. "Disease? This isn't some curse? Or the result of poisoning...?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head, smiling, and went to store the petal in a small bottle. The twins followed further into the room.

"How does this illness come about in the first pl—" George coughed. A fresh cloud of petals spewed out of his mouth and fell delicately to the tile floor.

"You are going to clean that up," Madam Pomfrey said without looking while she placed the bottle in a cabinet.

George took his wand out, pointed it at the flower petals in the floor, and quickly spoke, "Evanesco," and the petals disappeared.

Madam Pomfrey explained, "Unrequited love. That's the cause. It's rather common, especially amongst teenagers such as yourselves. I see it all the time."

"Common...? It's strange that we are only now learning about it..." Fred half-mumbled to himself.

"Well, you boys have obviously never been in love before," the nurse chuckled. "It's about time. I've been wondering if I'd ever see you in here for it. I shouldn't be surprised that it's taken this long. You're always too busy with your shenanigans to care about such things."

George's brow furrowed. "No... what? Wait... Why are you so cheery about this?"

"Because you need it," Pomfrey replied, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Do you mean love or the disease?" Fred asked.

Madam Pomfrey laughed. "Both. You two need a firm push in the right direction. There is a medical cure for the disease, but I won't give it to you."

"Why not?" the twins exclaim in unison.

"Because I want you to try to use the natural cure. You must get whatever poor girl you have feelings for to admit that she feels the same way about you. Do this within the next week. If you come to learn that the infatuation is not mutual, then come back to see me."

Later that day, the twins had a table to themselves at the back of the Divination classroom.

George doodled a picture of a drooping flower on the corner of his parchment paper. "Didn't Pomfrey say that dreams were stage one of the Hannah-hobo-or-whatever-you-call-it disease?" he whispered. "And coughing up petals was stage three? Now that I think about it, we never went through stage two."

"You're right," said Fred. "Though I'm not complaining. I've never found myself wishing and wanting for chest pains and vomiting."

George brushed the tip of his quill against his cheek thoughtfully. "Wishing and wanting for chest pains and vomiting," he repeated. "That's got a sweet, poetic sound to it, doesn't it?"

"Yes, yes. I'm quite the natural artist, you know," Fred replied, chuckling pompously.

"That's disgusting!" Hermione Granger commented from a nearby table.

"Your hair is disgusting," Fred retorted.

She scoffed, "And you're so immature." She went back to her book and began to run her fingers through her hair self-consciously.

George went on, completely unbothered by the rude exchange. "I wonder... Could it be because this is our first time... being in love?"

"You gits are in love?" Ron, the twins' younger brother, asked. He and Harry Potter sat at Hermione's table, and the three of them stared with curious eyes.

"Mind your own bloody business, Ronald!" George hissed. He turned back to Fred, his expression reverting to something calmer.

Fred spoke as if nothing had happened, though quieter so no one but themselves could hear it. "It could be. I think it may also have something to do with the level of our love and how suddenly it came on. I don't know about you, and I know it sounds cliche, but I'll confidently say that I've never met a girl like y/n."

"Yeah, same here," George said, nodding. "How should we admit our feelings to her?"

There was a long moment of silence between the twins. Professor Trelawney's ramblings filled in as background noise.

"I don't want to admit my feelings," Fred eventually said.

"Me neither. This is probably something along the lines of what Pomfrey was talking about when she said that we 'need a firm push in the right direction'," George sighed.

"She also said we need love."

"But I love you, Freddie."

"And I love you, George. And we don't need anyone else's love," huffed Fred determinedly. He leaned back in his chair, coolly linking his hands behind his head.

Another moment of silence.

George clicked his tongue and copied Fred's relaxed pose, saying, "You're in denial."

"You're right again, Georgie. We also need dear Mum's love. Life's not worth living if I can't have her cooking in it."

"Ah, but romance...," George said, waving his hand in a dramatic rainbow as if to say, "Just imagine...!"

Fred folded his arms in front of his chest like a child with a made up mind. "We've gone without it for this long," he said.

"...A kind, beautiful, mischievous girl who will vandalize public property with you..." George exhaled wistfully. "Someone to be the inspiration for your 'natural artistry'... Someone who will cuddle with you on cold days..." George snuggled up to Fred's side playfully.

Fred laughed and shoved his twin away. "That's not helping paint the picture... It's kinda spooky you mentioned cuddling. I mean, we sure have that twin telepathy thing, but now you're seeing my dreams!"

George gasped. "That's what you dreamt about last night? You're so naughty!"

"It was totally innocent cuddling!" Fred snorted, shoving George again. "What did you dream about anyway?"

"Quidditch. She was my biggest fan in the crowd."

"That sounds nice."

"'Twas."

The twins sighed in unison, each remembering the wonderful, though very temporary feeling that their dreams produced.

"George," Fred said in a way that prepared for a bold statement. "Let's make those dreams come true!" He sat up and pumped his fist into the air.

"So the Hannah-banana disease doesn't kill us!" George exclaimed, knocking his own fist against Fred's.

As they held their purposeful stance, both twins coughed at once, scattering flower petals all over the table top.

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[joka13]

When do you think the next Twins x Slytherin chapter will be out?

Hey!👋 I wasn't in any hurry to do the next part soon because everyone seemed rather invested in the "Unrequited Love" request I've been doing (the following part to that will be my next post), but it has been a while since I've posted for the "Weasley Twins x Slytherin Girl" fanfiction. I apologize to those who have been patiently waiting for me to continue that. Instead of writing requests completely through without pause as I have been doing, I'll begin posting for my main, current story in between posts for other pieces (that is if I am working on anything else). Thanks for asking!❤️

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[joka13]

FANFICTION (REQUEST): Weasley Twins x Reader (Hufflepuff Girl) - Lovesick - Part 2/5

WARNINGS: none

Night fell over the castle, and, as usual, Fred and George stayed up far longer than they should have working on the next product to go in their skiving snack boxes. Though the twins appeared busy, their minds were intensely preoccupied by something (or rather someone) else.

George had taken upon himself the dull task of reading through library books to get enough information about a certain magical plant, but he quickly found himself struggling to concentrate. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, his thoughts frustratingly continued to drift towards you.

Fred became stuck in a similar predicament, and at one point caught himself stirring the cauldron for too long after replaying in his head the day's interaction with you in Filch's office.

Both Fred and George ended up going to bed early (at least earlier than what was typical for them), though neither of the twins admitted that it was because they were too distracted to work.

"I can't sleep," George grumbled after he had been tossing and turning in his bottom bunk for almost half an hour.

"I know. I can feel you wriggling like a snake lit on fire," Fred chuckled from the top bunk.

George laughed. "Sorry."

"It's no problem. I can't sleep either."

The twins lay in silence for a long moment.

"I bet I can guess what you're thinking about," said Fred eventually.

"No bet. You can always guess what I'm thinking about," George snorted. "It's probably the same thing you are thinking about."

"You're probably right," Fred chuckled.

More silence.

"And... What exactly are you thinking about?" asked George.

"You tell me!" Fred laughed.

"Fine, fine," George snickered. "We're thinking about... that Hufflepuff girl."

"Y/n," Fred sighed.

"Yeah, y/n... I can't believe I've never noticed her until now. She doesn't look like a first year."

"That's for sure."

Both twins chuckled knowingly.

"We should hang out with her," George said.

"We should have breakfast with her tomorrow," said Fred.

"And lunch. And dinner."

Fred and George laughed together.

"Look..." a disgruntled voice said from the top bunk to Fred's right. Lee Jordan sat up and rubbed his eyes, and Fred had to hold back a laugh once he saw Lee's severe bed-head. "I'm happy that you guys have a nice lady friend or whatever... but could you maybe fantasize about her in your heads?"

"We've been doing that all day," Fred huffed.

"Hmm... I don't know if I've been exactly fantasizing..." George chuckled mischievously.

"Then there will be plenty of room for it in your dreams," Lee sighed, irritated. "Just make an effort not to talk in your sleep. I don't wanna hear any of that." There was a fwump as Lee's head made contact with his pillow once again, and the twins snickered in unison.

The twins eventually fell asleep and did, in fact, dream about you.

Fred dreamt he was back home, back at the burrow. He sat on the sofa in the living room, wrapped in a soft blanket. On the side table next to him was a hot cup of tea. It was early enough in the morning that anyone else in the house was still asleep, so it was peacefully quiet. All that could be heard was the faint tweeting of birds outside and the crackle of dancing flames in the fireplace.

All of these things were great, wonderful even, but what made this dream so perfect was the precious girl Fred held in his arms under the blanket. Her head rested on his chest as she slept soundly, her breathing steady. Fred kissed the side of her pretty head, though ever so lightly so as not to disturb her. She smelled like chocolate. She smiled contently in her sleep, and Fred's heart melted. He hoped that this moment would never end...

George dreamt he was playing a serious game of quidditch. He zoomed across the field on his broom, beater's bat in hand, to wack a bludger aside just before it could make contact with his teammate's head. Deafening cheers rang throughout the stadium as George laughed triumphantly. He appreciated the praise, but there was only one person he really cared to hear cheering.

Though the roaring audience completely filled the surrounding stands, George easily spotted her in the crowd. She jumped up and down for him, waving a small Gryffindor flag like her life dependended on it. Her voice was lost amongst the other whoops and hollers, but her beautiful, smiling lips mouthed, "Geor-gie! Geor-gie! Geor-gie!"...

And then, all at once, the twins' sweet dreams turned into nightmares.

Fred closed his eyes and sighed, totally cherishing the happiness that he felt. He had never before had someone like her to love in such a way as this, and he wasn't going to take it for granted.

Suddenly, the wonderful weight of her body leaning against his disappeared, and Fred's eyes snapped open. She was gone.

George grinned like a fool, but he didn't care. He didn't have a single care in the world as long as she was cheering in the stands for him.

But the merry moment was not to last. The bludger that George had previously batted came back for revenge, catching him off guard and breaking his broom entirely in half on impact. And as George fell, all he could wonder about was what she must think of him.

Fred and George sat up in their beds at exactly the same time, choking and unable to breathe for a short while before coughing up whatever was blocking their airways.

The twins sat clutching their chests and panting heavily as they recovered from the shock. Down in his bottom bunk, George eventually reached over the side of and under the bed for his wand.

"F-Fred?" George breathed. "Are you alright?"

"I think so... You?" Fred whispered from above.

"Yeah... I... couldn't breathe... Lumos." The tip of George's wand began to glow and illuminate the strange scene before him. Strewn across the bed cover were light pink flower petals.

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