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hhoneyglasss · 2 years

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phantom

notes: hello hello! long time no see! sry i disappeared for a bit, school has been ROUGH. i hv a bit of a mini-break w a four-day weekend, so i figured i’d get back into writing. this idea came to me out of nowhere while i was at work yesterday, and as soon as i got home, i sat down to write it lol.

also, i wanna mention that i’m not trying to justify any of quinn’s actions, but rather trying to offer a different perspective on him. the morals in this mini-fic r v grey and muddied, if that makes sense. but if that doesn’t bother u, i hope u enjoy.

pairings: references to a past romantic relationship w quinn & darlin’, references to a present romantic relationship w sam & darlin’

pov: darlin’ — first person limited

word count: 2,821

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46445038

!!! TWs {{these begin under the cut}} !!! brief but slightly graphic descriptions of violence & references to a past abusive and unhealthy romantic relationship. please do not read if either of these topics are triggering to u.

Quinn stood in front of me, his hands rested at his sides but his back was unnaturally straight. My hands were in tight fists, an attempt to slow down my heartbeat. I knew it was pointless; there was no doubt he could hear it pounding from within my chest.

The forest was quiet tonight. The only sounds that could be heard were the slight rustling of dead leaves and the distant hum of cars. The moon was full, its dim light splashing onto the forest floor.

When I had detected his scent, I had crouched, expecting him to spring. But he hadn’t. He had slowly walked into this small clearing alone, and quiet whispers had fallen from his lips telling me that he wasn’t going to hurt me.

The part of me that still loved him had me standing up straight.

I met his eyes now, my brows furrowed. “Hi.”

The simple greeting brought a relaxed smirk to pull at the corners of his mouth. “Hello.”

“Are you going to kill me?” The question flung its way out of my throat, and I almost clapped my hand over my mouth before squeezing my fists again.

“No,” he answered, the smirk disappearing, “I’m not.”

I stared at him, unresponding, but he continued, “You don’t believe me.”

“Of course I don’t. Why should I, anyway?”

I watched tears sparkle in the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away quickly.

“I don’t know,” he whispered more to himself than me.

My eyes widened. I had only ever seen him cry twice; once when he had found out I had reported him to the department, the other time when he had tried to kill my friend.

I took a deep breath. “I know what you’ve been trying to do.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been trying to lure me to you,” I stated, my voice as steady as I could manage.

“I have.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’ve been draining people to get me to come to you directly.”

“I have.”

“But it hasn’t worked because I’m not stupid.” The words came faster now, catching on my teeth before they tumbled out of my mouth into the cool, open air.

“I know you aren’t.”

The way he said it took me off guard. The softness in his voice matched the tenderness in his eyes, and I found myself looking away.

“Why?” I asked, the question quiet enough to be whisked away by the wind.

But he had heard me. “Because I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” I growled. My response was automatic, instinctual at this point.

“I do,” he countered, “I love you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. I love you more than life itself. I love you.”

I looked back up at him again, and my breath hitched. He was looking at me like I’d hung every star in the sky and lit up the moon just for him. He was looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered on Earth.

We were silent for a few minutes, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was natural, like we’d done this a thousand times.

Because we had.

He was the one to break the silence. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come with me,” he repeated.

I crossed my arms. “What do you mean?”

He jerked forward a bit, almost like he was going to touch me, but he stopped himself. “We can get away from Dahlia. We can go back to the way things were before everything happened. We can go back to us.”

“I don’t want that,” I said, “I don’t want to be on the run again.”

He stepped a bit closer. I didn’t back away. “Then we can settle down. I know you’ve always wanted that. I’ll get us a house, we can start a family— or not, it could stay just the two of us. We can do whatever you want. I’ll make it happen.”

“I’ve already settled with someone else.” The words came out slowly, like my body was fighting against them.

Quinn didn’t say anything. His eyes stayed on me, but his jaw tightened and his fists clenched. I figured he hoped I hadn’t noticed.

“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” I questioned.

Silence.

Another few minutes passed, the tension in the air now thick enough to cut with a knife. He was inhumanly still; still in the way he knew I hated.

It made him look like he was dead.

I was going to say something else when he beat me to it. “I know about him. I’ve known about him and you since you first met a year and a half ago.”

I didn’t flinch, even as his gaze dug into my skin like knives. “You know his name too.”

“I do.”

“Then say it.”

I was pushing it, I was pushing our limits. If I went too far, he’d snap, and suddenly, we’d both be down on the ground again, trying to rip each other apart.

“Sam,” he nearly snarled, his eyes closed like the name pained him, “Sam Collins. That’s his name.”

“Right. And you’ve met him before, too.”

Quinn sighed. “I have.”

I paused again, pondering him. My eyes scanned his features, trying to find what he was thinking. His jaw had remained clenched, and his silver irises had darkened.

“Do you want to kill him?” I finally asked.

His eyes widened slightly before he answered me. “I used to.”

I quirked a brow. “Used to?”

“Used to,” he started, “I used to think about tearing his heart out or ripping his head off. Maybe both at the same time. But I don’t think about that anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because if I hurt him, it’ll hurt you. If I kill him, it’ll break you. You’d blame yourself for anything happening to him, and the guilt would eat you alive.”

I was speechless, but he kept going. “I don’t want to break you again. I don’t want to hurt you like that again. So I won’t hurt him, or David, Milo, Asher, or anyone you care about. I won’t do that to you again.”

“Then why not just kill me? Wouldn’t that make it all go away?”

Quinn’s brows knitted together; he looked confused. “No, because you deserve to live even if that life doesn’t have me in it anymore.”

I searched his face, trying to find the sign that’d tell me he was lying, that’d tell me he was just placating me so he could get my guard down and go in for the kill, but I found nothing. His stare was hardened, sure, but liquid honesty swirled within the crimson flecks in his irises.

“So what are you going to do now?” I asked, genuine confusion lacing through the inflections of my voice, “Because you might as well run; you and I know there’s no way in Hell I’d catch you.”

He took another deep breath. “I’m going to do whatever you want me to do.”

I arched my brow again. He explained, “I mean it. If you want me to run away from here and never come back, I’ll do it. If you want me to sit here and wait until the sun comes up to burn me to ash, I’ll do it. If you want to kill me, I’ll let you and won’t fight back. I’ll do whatever is going to make you happy, because that’s what I want. That’s the only thing I want, only thing I’ve ever wanted, and it’s all that I ask from you.”

His speech washed over me like a tidal wave, but it didn’t pull me under and drown me like I thought it would. The current was steady, and I found myself letting out such a deep breath it felt like I would collapse.

I sat down on the ground and looked up at him. “Sit with me.”

He followed suit, and I met his eyes again. “I know what I’m going to do.”

“Tell me,” he hummed, but it wasn’t an order. It was a request.

I took another deep breath before letting the words flow. “I’m going to call the department and tell them that you’re here. I’m also gonna call David and Sam to let them know that we’re here, and that I’m safe. When the department comes, you’re going to go with them peacefully. When David and Sam get here, I’m gonna leave with them, and we’re never going to see each other ever again. Do you understand?”

We didn’t say anything for a long while again, and I watched as my words sunk in. Tears had filled his eyes again, but he let them fall this time.

“I understand,” he murmured, his voice cracking.

I didn’t move to comfort him like I would’ve before. I just sat there, watching as silent tears fell from his eyes onto the dirt, and seeped into the ground. He didn’t move to wipe them away, but he wasn’t completely still either; his back was shaking from the sobs he was swallowing.

I pulled out my phone to call the department, and I ignored the countless missed call and message notifications from Sam, David, and who knows who else. I dialed their number, hit ‘Call’, then waited as it rang.

It was only two rounds of ringing before someone picked up. “Hello, this is the Department of Uniform Magical Practices, how may I help you?”

“I’m with Quinn Barlowe, the vamp you guys have been trying to track down.”

The woman on the other end of the line was silent for a few moments, and I was about to ask if she was still there when she sputtered, “Oh, oh my God, okay, um, sorry, just give me a moment…”

I could hear muffled talking through the buzz of the call, then sounds of doors opening and closing and footsteps. The lady said, her voice still shaky, “Our Covert Cops are getting ready to leave now, may I send them your location?”

“Yes.”

I heard keys typing, then she requested, “Please stay on the line until our team gets to you. Are either you or Quinn hurt?”

“No.”

“Alright,” she said, “I’ll let you know when they’re close to you. If you feel like you are in danger or need anything else, please let me know.”

“I think I’ll be fine, but thanks,” I replied, “Can I add my alpha and mate to the line?”

“Go right ahead, dear.”

I thanked her for the permission, then rang both David and Sam. The dial tone didn’t even have a chance to ring before both of them picked up. From the way their voices melded together and echoed, I figured they were together.

I shouted over the noise, “I can’t hear either of you when you talk at the same time.”

It was silent for a moment before I heard David demand, “Where the fuck are you? We’ve been trying to message you for hours, but you haven’t responded. Care to explain yourself?”

“I’m with Quinn,” I said bluntly.

They both went so silent I almost laughed. Sam was the first one to react. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

I smiled a little. “I’m okay; we both are. The department’s on their way now, they’re on the line with us.”

The receptionist greeted them both with a small ‘hi’ before going quiet again, and then I heard the sound of a car starting.

“Send us your location,” David stated.

I complied, and Sam spoke up again. “We’re on our way now. Just sit tight and stay on the line, will you?”

“I will.”

It was quiet again before Sam said, “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you too, Sam.”

I looked up at Quinn after I had said it back, but he hadn’t moved. He was staring at the ground still, his hands now fiddling with a dead leaf.

“If you’re gonna say anything, just say it,” I pushed.

His gaze flickered to the phone, and I picked it back up to put the microphone on mute.

“There, now they can’t hear us. Is that better?” I asked, meaning for it to come out sarcastically, but it sounded sincere instead.

He nodded and spoke. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

He had me speechless again, and I looked him in the eyes. He stared back, his brows furrowed as he fought back more tears. I felt my own eyes begin to sting, but I blinked the feeling away.

I had never heard Quinn apologize before. The phrase sounded foreign in his cadence, but I could tell he meant it. I could tell he meant every single word he had said tonight.

I rested my hand on top of his and rubbed my thumb against the back of his palm. “I know.”

He finally broke, his other hand covering his face as sobs wracked his body. I moved towards him and opened my arms to him, and he dove into me. His arms traveled to wrap around my waist, and he buried his face in my neck. The feeling of his lips brushing against my collarbone had me jerking, expecting the pain of fangs in flesh, but none ever came; only the feeling of his body shaking as I held him.

☀︎ ☀︎ ☀︎

Ten minutes later, I could hear the crackling of leaves being crushed by tires. The Covert Cops showed up first, but Sam, David, and a few others I couldn’t see arrived not long after.

Quinn was still in my arms, but his breathing had steadied; he had stopped crying by then. I had to tap him to get him to notice that everyone had arrived, and when he finally looked towards them, he let go of me. I didn’t flinch or pull away when he lightly kissed my forehead, but instead stayed still as he got up and walked towards the Covert Cops.

They jammed his arms and hands behind his back quickly, the metal cuffs harshly snapping around his wrists. I almost told them to be more gentle but I held my tongue, biting the words back.

I stood up too, but I didn’t move. I stared as he was shoved into the back of their truck, and he turned around to look at me.

He mouthed ‘I love you’ before the door shut behind him.

As soon as the metal clang of the door rang throughout the forest, I dropped to my knees. I hadn’t realized I was shaking until now, and tears took no time to begin pouring onto my cheeks and down my face. I held onto my shirt and rocked back and forth, trying to make sense of tonight, but everything jumbled together until it felt like my head would explode.

I soon felt a familiar warmth surrounding me, and I quickly recognized it as Sam. I fell into his arms, limp against his chest as he rubbed my back and whispered that everything was okay, that I was okay. I trusted his words, but the image of Quinn being shoved into that truck burned itself into my brain.

Part of me regretted not saying ‘I love you too’.

I could hear other voices from behind Sam, but I ignored them as I stayed in his embrace. I didn’t dare move because if I did, that damned truck would be in my line of sight again, and I’d fall apart more than I already had.

A few minutes later, Sam asked if he could pick me up, and I nodded silently. He carried me to the backseat of David’s car, and I felt exhaustion begin to tug at the edges of my thoughts. My head drooped to the side and landed on Sam’s right shoulder, and he rested his on top of mine.

But before I let sleep take me under, I prayed to myself. I prayed that Quinn would be content wherever he was going. I prayed that he’d be able to find himself again. I prayed that he’d be okay again. I prayed he’d find some sort of new normal.

I prayed that when I looked back at him for that last time, he had been able to hear everything I wished I could’ve told him— like how there had been a time where I had been completely devoted to him, and that that part of me was still in there, and that it always would be. Like how I had once imagined a future where I could forget my past and be free with him for the rest of eternity.

I hoped that he’d be able to settle just like I have. I hope there comes a point in time where he looks in the mirror and isn’t afraid of what he sees anymore.

I hope he knows that there will always be someone out there who loves him.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted tank #redacted asmr sam #redacted asmr darlin #redacted quinn #redacted asmr quinn #just some angst for the road RIGHT after imperium ended #bad timing on my part but blame erik!!!! not me!!!!#jk jk love u erik mwah #honeyglass’s handwritings

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neiptune · 2 years

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ok so, sry for answering in the comments and continuing the conversation here, but the character limits in the comment section had me walking in circles (also sorry for the long text ahead, talking about books always has me rambling)

admittedly i had to google who ferrante is, but now that will definitely be a name i'll look out for the next time i'll go the library- do you have any recommendations? :))

i started regularly reading classics only about three (?) years ago bcs the ones that were written in english i wanted to read in their original language and it took me some time to grow confident enough in my english level to attempt to get through them (as you probably noticed english is not my native language😂) so I have a lot to catch up on!

what i read from dostoevsky i rlly liked (made the mistake to read anna karenina as my first russian novel when i was fifteen - took me some time to get back to russian literature after that)

as cliché as it is, i actually really enjoyed what i read of austen's novels as of now, i just started reading my first murakami so i'm excited to see what that will be like. not (exclusively) but in general i also really enjoy oscar wilde and ocean vuong's works, i have to read a lot for university so during the semester i started reading more short stories and poetry or just light romance or sometimes fantasy novels that don't need my full concentration. or i just reread some of my favourite novels when i was like 15/16 as comfort- what are your comfort books?

sorry againf for the loong text, i hope you have/ had a good day! :)

Please never ever apologize, I love getting messages in my inbox <3 Bonus points if related to books, I've been so excited to reply to this!!!

Yes I absolutely do have one suggestion: please read the my brilliant friend series. I know they're 4 books but after you finish the first one you're not gonna be able to stop: the writing is phenomenal and they have pretty much changed my life. The books tackle female friendship, childhood, competition, adulthood, the post-war stultifying culture of naples, class struggle and so much more in a way that will leave you gasping for air. If you decide to give them a go please let me know, I'd be so happy to hear your opinions! (not going into more detail otherwise this post is going to be 5 pages long lol)

I 100% couldn't tell you're not a native!!! Found myself being a lil jealous of how well spoken you are instead (obviously not a native either here haha) and I must say, I've always read a lot of classics, mostly english literature and mostly bc of school assignments! Lately I've been slacking, there are so many books I bought bc I wanted to enjoy them in their original language but eh, never really touched them again :( I miss being an avid reader and I hope to get back on track this year! I looooove murakami like I know he's problematic but his books have changed my life, especially norwegian wood! I must admit I only read pride and prejudice by austen and didn't like it, also never watched the movie, but I'm willing to give her another go through sense and sensibility eventually :) I'm also trying to step out of my comfort zone and read more fantasy, I really liked the priory of the orange tree and the ninth house! Anddd I also love horror so I should really explore it more, I absolutely love shirley jackson! NOW ONTO COMFORT BOOKS. I'm so sorry but harry potter will always bring comfort to me. JKR can absolutely get fucked but those books shall be held close to my heart forever, they just feel like home. I also non ironically loved the twilight books lmao I'd be absolutely willing to reread! I'm gonna add a few more to the list: little women, the pollyanna series, the hunger games, wuthering heights, the secret history, alice in wonderland, the secret garden and literally any goosebump!!! My turn to apologize for the long ass reply but books are a topic I love too much so I can hardly shut up 🥰

#💌.#moots <3

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goldpilot22 · 4 years

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alright so @fancyfanstuff sent me this ask

but while typing a reply to it I accidentally hit the send reply privately button so now I'm posting it all as a post lmao.

yeeee lys does have a buncha knives which are mostly for showing off [they also have a gun] also be of this I drew them based on a screenshot from thedisney snow white movie.. but i drew it on my laptop so the colors are all wonky [my laptop does NOT have a good quality screen Imao] as are the lines bc I've never quite got the hang of using a tablet

this is lys as they look during that part of the story, later they get that arm broken and have to wear the more decorative one instead [and that becomes relevant later :3] also they store their knives In the prosthetic arm. fun fact their hair is perpetually kind of badly cut because they used to be right-handed and some things are not easy to learn to do with either your nondominant hand Or a prosthetic, especially if you don't do the things very often, and cutting your own hair is one of those. plus they'd never cut their own hair before the Incident. [the incident in which they got both disowned by their family and separated from sterling, basically things went all kinds of shitty at once :P]

also yeha heron is just. the most bastard. manipulative as shit. gaslights the fuck out of sterling pretty much ever since they joined the bird cult. so instead the main antagonist is Swan! she was pretty much raised by his parents but since she wasn't actually their kid she couldn't inherit all their shit [idr what I have or haven't previously said abt the bird cult Imao but it started as just a rather underhanded way for one particular noble family to get more power, and then got a bit more shitty once Heron came to be in control of it.] so when he gets his ass kicked in she takes the opportunity to fill the power vacuum, as she'd already been helping him with things but she has Bigger Plans...

also yess the girl lysander almost killed is indeed important! her name is Paz and she's a detective! [she is like eighteenish but that's still considered a child in this setting. and she just Is Baby.] someone wanted her dead be she'd exposed their attempt to frame someone else for murder. [also yes this is scifi-flavored-fantasy yes there are detectives. it was originally someone's attempt to bring some order to the chaos that shit is sinking into, but they generally don't get a lot Done on account of, well, stuff like that.] and, unrelated to that incident, she has been mainly working on one particular string of murders.... that’s right she is trying to find things out about none other than Shrike. she’s looking for their real identity but hasn’t found anything conclusive there, but instead she has discovered something that, for her, puts Everything about them in a different perspective...

#yes i have a lot of characters who look/act younger than their actual age.. i am simply projecting #im 20 and i still get mistaken for a 12 year old #also sry it took me so long to answer this one - school is back in session so im p busy all of a sudden ahaha #also also sterling wasn't like raised in the bird cult - they 'joined' it by they did a few 'jobs' for it and then were brought back to it #and basically inducted into it n prevented from leaving #for 5 years #until stuff happens #also paz is demigirl she/they #swan is she/her prolly just a cis woman #psii.txt #asks #fancyfanstuff #my art #my ocs #Lysander #Paz #Swan #Miranda #[thats swan's real name]

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miss-celestial-being · 3 years

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Daisies and Study Dates- D.M.

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request | masterlist

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1k Words

request: yes; @fantasygirl15

warnings: none? Fluff

summary: Draco and Y/n study together

pronouns: she/her

house: Ravenclaw (implied)

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This is my 4th time writing this... sry it's taken so long to get this out :/

I also kinda forgot this existed

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While walking to class, Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder. She took out her headphones and turned around to come face to face with Draco. Her eyebrows raised in confusion. "Can I help you?" Draco seemed to have snapped out of his small trace and cleared his throat. "Um, yeah, sorry. I wanted to know if you had some free time later to... study?" His voice went quiet as he spoke the last part.

Y/n opened her mouth to answer, but Draco stopped her. "Y'know what? Never mind. It was stupid to ask anyway." His shoulders slouched slightly as he turned away. He started walking, but Y/n caught him by his wrist. "Meet me at the Astronomy tower, 7:30pm sharp. Don't be late."

Draco struggled to find a response and instead just nodded as he watched Y/n continue her walk to class, putting her headphones in as she walked.

~~~

That night, Draco arrived 5 minutes early as to make sure he wasn't late. He sat against a wall and tapped his pencil on his notebook. He heard footsteps walking up the tower steps and his heartbeat quickened. "Oh. You're here early." Y/n said as she sat next to him.

She took out her books and a pencil from her bag and turned to Draco. "You didn't specify what you needed help with so I just brought all of the books." Draco internally cursed himself at being so stupid. "I- uh... Herbology." Y/n smiled slightly. "S'my favorite subject." She then took out the necessary books and wrote down some notes while walking Draco through it all.

"And so when you care for it enough, it should end up looking like this." She held up a drawing of a Flutterby bush. "Wow." Draco said as he reached out to hold the sketchbook. "This is beautiful. Did you draw this?" Y/n blushed a bit as she nodded and looked at her lap. "I like to record my progress while caring for my plants. This is one I did when my Flutterby was fully grown." Draco smiled at her. "I think it's wonderful." Y/n blushed harder causing Draco to chuckle slightly. "Thanks."

~~~

Their 'study dates', as Draco liked to call it, became more frequent as they decided to meet every other day to discuss school or any other topic that came to mind.

"So what's your favorite plant? I mean I know you love Herbology, but you never told me which one your favorite was." Y/n laughed. "I honestly can't think of one. I love them all equally." She said as she continued a drawing she had started earlier that day, the drawing she wouldn't let Draco see. "Even Mandrakes?" Y/n giggled, for lack of better word, to herself. "Yes, Draco, even Mandrakes." Draco sighed as he tried to see the paper Y/n's focus was on but failed miserably.

"C'mon, there has to be one plant you like even a bit more than the rest." It was Y/n's turn to sigh. "Well, I suppose I do like a certain flower." Draco leaned in closer to show his interest. "It's a muggle flower, I don't think you know it." Y/n laughed out nervously. "Oh come on, try me." Y/n looked back at her drawing, smiling to herself as she added to it. "They're called Daisies. They're these little white flowers, and very easy to find in the muggle world. Some say they're weeds because they can grow anywhere without a proper planting, but I think those people are just naysayers." Draco smiled at her enthusiasm as he payed close attention to every word, every detail, everything.

"They sound wonderful." Y/n gave him a small grin before looking down and adding something to her sketch. "Bloody hell woman, what on earth are you drawing?" He tried seeing the page only for it to be moved away from his sight. He moved to grab it, but Y/n moved it behind her. Draco sat up on his knees, reaching around Y/n to pry the book from her hand.

When he finally got it he smiled. "Seriously, this is what you were hiding?" Y/n blushed harder the longer he looked. "It's an amazing drawing, though to be fair, all of your drawings are amazing." He smiled as he handed her the book back. "Thanks." She looked down at her lap, hiding her face with her hair. "You're really not good at taking compliments are you?" Draco laughed as he moved Y/n's hair out of her face.

Y/n opened the book back up to look at her drawing. Draco's face in the center, daisies in his white-blonde hair and fallen onto his cozy sweater. A big smile on his face that was only ever there when they were together. In his hand was another daisy, twisted between his fingers. "Honestly, it's flattering. It males me look... happy." Draco said, breaking Y/n's trance. His hand still hadn't moved from her hair.

Draco slowly moved closer and closer till their noses were touching. Y/n's heartbeat picked up as they neared, her eyes flickering down to his lips then back up to his eyes. "Can I kiss you?" Draco asked cautiously. Y/n nodded, slightly out of breath. Draco leaned in all the way, catching her lips in his. They stayed still for a moment, not wanting to let go of the feeling of finally kissing. Y/n was the first to move. She pulled back a bit before moving closer and grabbing Draco's face lightly in her hands.

As they kissed, it was as if all time stopped. Like they were the only two people in the world. Like nothing else mattered as long as they had each other. All of this being communicated over one kiss. One kiss that lasted not long enough. They both pulled away, smiles on their faces. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to kiss you." Draco spoke up, breaking the calm silence. Y/n smiled wider and wrapped her arms around him, kissing all around his face as she hugged him.

Eventually, Draco and Y/n had to part ways to go to bed, smiles on both their faces as they lay there wide awake.

~~~

The next day, as Y/n walks into Herbology class, she has a huge smile. She walked to the back of the classroom where her plants were, her sketchbook held tightly to her chest. Draco walked into class a few minutes late, apologizing to Professor Sprout before going to the back to sit next to Y/n.

"Why are you late?" Y/n asked worriedly. "I was getting something from someone." Y/n laughed a bit. "That's not ominous at all." Sarcasm laced throughout her words. Draco chuckled and turned to Y/n fully. "Hold out your hands and close your eyes." Y/n did as asked and held her hands out, peaking slightly. "I said eyes closed." Draco said in a warning tone causing Y/n to roll her eyes, obeying his request.

Draco grabbed a slightly wrinkled flower from the pocket of his robe and placed it gently in the palm of her hand. "Open." When she did, she thought she might burst. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for her. He listened. In her hand was her favorite muggle flower, the Daisy.

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Sry I haven't posted a real fic in a while...

#hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter #draco malfoy #slytherin #draco fluff #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #ravenclaw #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x ravenclaw!reader

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tobi-momo · 3 years

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You Belong With Me

“What was she so mad about?” Your voice bleeds through his phone as he scribbles on his homework with his number two pencil, sighing at your question. He looks up briefly to his window to see you at your desk across your two properties’ filing the papers for your math class, organizing your work. Your phone is sandwiched between your shoulder and your ear, your eyes narrowed as you focus on what assignments are what.

“Kei?”

He shakes his head as his mind snaps out of the daze, his golden eyes flicking down to his work. “Uh,” he sighs as he re-grips his pencil, “I teased her a little bit and she got mad,” he finished. You chuckled before covering your mouth with your hand, finally looking up at the man through your clear panes.

“You’re kidding,” you giggle, a smile leading onto Kei’s face while he listens to your voice, although refusing to look up at your face, he shakes his head in a joking dismissal.

“No, I’m not. But we are never mentioning it again.”

“Oh, good luck getting me to keep quiet!” You shout as your back straightens against your desk chair, a smug look playing on your face once the blond male looks up at you.

He stands up, a reciprocating smirk laying on his lips before he says, “You will,” before he takes his phone away from his ear, pressing the “hang up” button and raising his arm to close the drapes. You laugh with satisfaction while you exit his contact, turning on some music and tossing your phone on your bed before cleaning up your area and strumming your fingers like an imaginary guitar.

He opened his curtains expecting to see you sulking while doing your work, only to see you dance like an idiot while you blast your music, your pencils acting as a microphone as you perform your concert in front of your stuffed animals. He could hear the music from across the yard, him identifying it as your shared playlist that you two made a couple years back, the duration over fifteen hours as about three-hundred songs reside. An accidental chuckle escaped him as his eyes rested on your jumping figure for just a couple seconds. It was for entertainment. Yeah. That’s it.

~.~.~.~

Sticking your fabric marker on the construction paper, you write out your message to Kei.

“I love you”. It was a message that would tell him that he deserves the best and nothing less. It was something that you treasured and wanted to share that value with him. Something that told him that he belonged with you.

You hoped that one day you’d be able to give it to him, to tell him how you really feel, to show that you can do a better job than her, but you never got the chance. Carrying the folded slip in your pocket, ready to pull out, his phone rings. As you sit on the bench on the side of the road, you wonder how long it had been since you had seen him really smile. You had made him smile a lot before, even if he doesn’t smile a lot genuinely, there are some times where real happiness seeps through his facade. You like it when that happens, always have. You noticed how much his happiness had reduced over the course of these last few months, though.

He answers the phone very monotone, very uninterested. He sounded obligated while he spoke to his girlfriend, sighing sharply once he hung up.

“What was that about?”

“Just drama. Kind of sick of it at this point.” He sticks his phone in his pocket, looking over to your concerned expression. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he says while rolling his eyes, placing a soft hand on your head and letting it rest. His hand retracted quickly when the sound of his name rings through his ears, his head whipping towards his girlfriend's figure. He readjusts his glasses, sitting straight up and swinging the strap of his school bag over his shoulder before he gets up and sluggishly walks across the street, meeting up with the one he was set to have a date with later. He subtly waved to you prior to turning his head away and continuing his stroll with his date hanging on his arm. You ignore the glare served your way when you wave back to him, forgetting the multiple reasons of why you wanted him away from her so he can enjoy his date. Hopefully.

~.~.~.~

As you stand on the bleachers of Kei’s game, you watch him stride over the court and jump to block the ball, a playful smirk residing on his lips as he sends the ball to the other side. You clap for him, shouting praises his way in hopes he might hear you over everyone else. Especially her. The screaming and unnecessary noise making your ears bleed a bit. You didn’t mean to be irritated by it, but the pulse on your forehead and the grit of your teeth made it painfully obvious you didn’t really like her.

When the end of the game hit, you were overloaded with joy at Kei’s victory. You hurriedly make your way over to him before gripping him tightly in a hug, not caring about the sweat that drips off his body. You could feel his arms flex as he raised his arms to hesitantly reciprocate your actions until his arms completely dropped, his body stiff.

“What the hell?” He muttered under his breath as he firmly moved you aside to walk away. Following after him, you let your head peek out from the side of his back, watching it all occur in front of you. “What’s this?”

“What? Nothing, Kei,” she mewls, setting her hands on her boyfriend’s shirt as if she thought he was silly.

“Yeah, we were just, uh, talkin’.” The man before her fibs.

“Not according to what I just saw,” Kei accuses the two with a furrowed brow, fed up. You come out from behind him, glaring at his girlfriend in hate. This was it.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” the man dismisses, turning to keep the conversation with her going.

Stepping forward, you place an arm in front of Kei, stopping his movements as you eye his girlfriend. “Tell me you were not just flirting with this man and we’ll leave.”

“I wasn-”

“Don't,” you pause, taking a deep breath as you watch her take a step back, “don’t lie to me, or you will regret it,” you threaten, a sharp glint in your eye telling her that you are oh so serious about this. Behind you, Kei watches as you make his girlfriend stammer on her words, a subconscious smile leaking on his face.

She stomps away with anger, the man beside her moving away as well, scoffing.

~.~.~.~

He didn’t say much on the way home; you trailed behind him as he walked away in part anger and denial. You didn’t really know what to say. Should you go back and find the girl and beat some sense into her? Should you give some words of the wise to Kei? Would he even take it?

As you watch him slow down to match your pace, you grow confused. You were headed to your place, so why was he suddenly following? “Kei?” He hums in response, his head hanging low. “Would you like to stay at my place? I can make coffee and we can stay up shit-talking our least favorite people,” you giggle and softly bump into his side, a stifled chuckle escaping him.

“Whatever,” he mumbles with an obvious smile as he continues to walk with you. When you quietly shut the door and take your shoes off, you softly tread to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine- the man that you took home followed, his arm planting on the marble counter as his eyes trail over your moving figure.

As you sit on the stool next to him beside your kitchen island, you converse about the drama he’s been scooped in, him rolling his eyes twice a minute and his irritation level going off the charts as he recalls the events. He hated it, you could tell. He made it pretty obvious he wasn’t happy about it, too.

“Are you still going to the dance with her tomorrow then?” You speak curiously, twirling your fingers around each other while staring blankly into the marble as you awkwardly sit there, awaiting an answer.

It takes him a second to respond, a long sigh and a deep thought coming into play in his mind once he looks over to your spaced expression. Does he really want to go? Did he want to go with her, or with someone else- you? “Probably.”

Oh. “Are you sure you wanna do that? After what happened today?”

“Why not. Nothing better to do,” he justifies, shrugging. Yeah, you probably should have seen that coming.

The note that resided in your pocket seemed to crumple a little bit when you came to terms with the fact that he may never notice you the way you wanted him to.

~.~.~.~

“Are you going?” Kei asks over his phone as he takes his suit out of his closet.

“Ah, no,” you breathe out as guilt pools in your stomach, your elbow balancing sitting on your desk while dozing off into something that is not mathematical equations.

“Oh,” is all he says before telling you he needed to get ready, giving his goodbye.

After the call ends, you see the light fading away from his room as he closes the drapes, giving you a sign to start working again. You wondered what would happen if you possibly showed up. You originally were going to go, but the date that canceled soon beforehand gave your mind a gentle squeeze, telling you that the dance wasn’t for you. Still, the tiniest urge told you to make an appearance. You groan in waver, giving in.

~.~.~.~

You felt good. You felt really good. Wearing your planned outfit to this dance, you make your way inside carefully, minding the crowd. You catch the eye of the one girl that you held a grudge against, watching her grope another man on the dance floor. You roll your eyes in disgust as you move your head around to find a tall blond in the crowd. He leaned against the wall across from you his arms crossed while his dilated pupils trace the light that bounces off the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him, his attention whipping to you as he raises his head.

“Hi,” he reluctantly answers you while standing straight up, a relieved smirk leading onto his lips. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I didn’t want to put my outfit to waste,” you smile, spreading your arms to show your attire.

“Yeah, well you came at perfect timing,” he points towards his girlfriend which you identified earlier, although he seemed like he didn’t care all that much.

Gripping the folded paper in your pocket, you slip it out with two fingers confidently. “I have something to tell you,” you admit, your eyes staying centered on his black suit.

“Go on,” he eggs, hands staying at the side of his body while he watches you fluster yourself. It takes you less than a second to shove the note in his stomach and turn around, your face turning hotter and hotter every moment. Your hands lay against your cheeks as your nerves rattle beneath your skin, your ears tingling when you hear a sweet chuckle glide against his lips. “You should have told me a long time ago, Y/n. I wouldn’t have to deal with,” his eyebrows turn up as his head tips towards the dancing figure just a couple of feet away from you guys, “...that.”

You turn around slowly, disbelief covering your face when you look at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me this,” you gesture at the both of you with your pointer finger, “could have been something a long time ago?”

He sucks in through his teeth, taking a grip on your arm and pulling you with him as he walks through the crowd to the middle of the room. “Yep. Guess you missed out.”

“Says you,” you roll your eyes with attitude as you pick up your pace and place your hand in his.

He knew he belonged with you, he was just wondering when you would admit that.

aaa here it is! three days of work! sry i havent been posting lately ive been working <3 (reupload bc tumblrs a little bitch)

REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are VERY appreciated!

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moon-kn1ght · 3 years

Text

stay.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of high school, mentions of shrek the musical (i’m sry), fluff, pining,

A/N: this is for @emmikmil! I’ve had so much fun writing this for you and dropping by your ask box often. I hope you enjoy! thank you to @wyn-dixie for the beta!

listen to a similarly vibed playlist here || masterlist

“I just don’t get how I was able to spend so much time away from you Marcus!!” you laugh at your friend on the couch next to you, “Eight years later, and your movie commentary is still making me laugh my ass off.” The credits roll on the movie that you two had been watching, and even though the movie had not originally been a comedy, Marcus Pike had made you laugh so much that your abs hurt.

“Now that we’re both in D.C., I can tell you that you’re going to get tired of it. I may be older but my time in the FBI has stunted my humor level back to where it was in high school,” Marcus jeered. His smile had the same youthful exuberance that it did when you two were kids, working for the government hadn’t taken that away yet. His eyes still held that warm kindness that had drawn you to be his friend all those years ago.

You and Marcus were best friends back in your shared hometown of Troy, Ohio. You two had bonded at age fourteen over a desire to get the hell out of your small town. While your friendship was built on a mutual distaste of home, it grew to be much more than that. Your high school years were remembered with moments of utter joy with Marcus by your side.

There were summer adventures into the countryside to find streams to swim in to beat the unbearable heat. There were late night ‘study sessions’ that routinely involved borrowing Marcus’s older sister’s car to go get McDonald’s and sit and talk for hours. You went to every single one of his football games (even though he was third string). And you were there the one game in four years that he was on the field and caught a pass that resulted in a game-winning touchdown.

He was there for your break-out role as the Gingerbread Man in the school’s production of Shrek the Musical. He saw it every night. And he was there when your date to junior-year homecoming didn’t show up, and even though he vowed to not go to a school dance that year, he stepped in as your last-minute date (and funny enough, your original date showed up with a black eye on Monday, but you never heard the details…).

Maybe you’ve been apart for longer than you two actually knew each other, but the friendship that you two shared in those years could have been enough to last a lifetime. Luckily, with both of you now working in D.C., it doesn’t have to be. Maybe now you can experience another lifetime of friendship, but this time as adults.

You have been silent for a moment too long when Marcus interrupts, “Hey, you still here?”

“Sorry, yeah,” you respond. “I was just thinking about how you never told me how my ex-homecoming date, Brian, ended up with a black eye after he stood me up?”

The memory makes him laugh, “That information is on a need-to-know basis. But what I can say is that conversation was quite helpful to draw on when I was learning interrogation skills at Quantico.”

“I KNEW IT!!” you yelp. You grab the throw pillow from your side of the couch and reel back to playfully hit him with it, but he’s too quick—he reaches and yanks it out of your hands, landing his own solid thwack against your stomach. This elicits a squeal from you, “HEY! Not fair, Mr. FBI. You can’t use your super-agent skills against me, that’s got to be a ground rule.”

“I was only acting in self-defense,” he contends, but releases the offending pillow from his grasp. “But if you insist, I will let you take a retaliatory hit at me, to keep things fair.”

“Hmmm. Now I don’t trust you, Pike. I’m pretty sure you’re the type that would remember where I’m …” You were going to finish the sentence with the word ‘ticklish,’ but you can see the shift in Marcus’s eyes, meaning he knew the end of your sentence before you said it. He lunges towards you, and you’re able to call out an “OH NO!” before he’s on top of you, hands attacking the spots on your body that, of course, he does remember are ticklish.

Everything devolves into laughter. Radiant joy fills your living room, joy that you haven’t experienced in so long.

When you’re able to squirm away and catch your breath, you release a thought that had been on your mind all night, “Marcus, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You could live forever in the incredibly tender way that he looks at you.

“I’ve missed you too, Ging” he says, reminding you of your high school nickname that formed from your silly but wonderful role in the musical. Like old times, Marcus can still sense the melancholy that hides behind your smile, “hey, we both did it. We made it out. And now we’ve found each other again. Nothing is going to take you away from me now, friends for life, remember?”

You two hug, and time could stop for all you care.

—X—

“I can’t believe I let you drag me to a Quantico bar!” you grumble humorously as you slide out of the Uber you and Marcus shared back to your place. “I know So Many great bars in D.C. proper, and I let you drag me to the suburbs, just to be ogled by a bunch of middle-aged men in ill-fitting suits. I’m never going to forgive you for this one.”

You both are laughing in earnest at your condemnation of the rather dive-y establishment you both got probably a little too toasted at for a Thursday night. You were right, the place was filled with the Special Agent-type that Marcus worked with every day, which is likely why it was tinted in rose-color in his memory.

“In my defense, I am not a woman, so how could I…” the words drunkenly tumble from Marcus’s lips. “Wait I take that back, let me rephrase…”

You spin around to shoot lasers into Marcus as his drunk ramble verges on being problematic. You wag your finger at him, “Hey, watch it captain.” He stops in his tracks and you, tipsy as well, step towards him, maintaining eye contact and continuing the silly motion of your finger, until you two are a breath apart.

He doesn’t back up, in fact, he leans into the proximity of your bodies. “Yes ma’am, I’m gonna shut up, I promise,” he blathers. You rest your palms against his chest, fingers grabbing at his wrinkled dress shirt. The alcohol coursing through your veins is giving you a confidence that you weren’t quite ever able to manifest in all those years ago. His hands come up to rest against your upper arms, not pushing you away but also not yet closing the remaining distance between your bodies.

“Yeah, you better. If you don’t, I’ll have to…” your thought stops short from completing as what’s left of your sober brain starts to comprehend how much contact you have with Marcus. Heat and energy pass through each junction of your bodies, his fingers on your arms, your hands against his muscled chest. Were your feet touching too?

“Or you’ll have to what?” Marcus probes, finally releasing the breath he took in the moment your bodies touched.

His voice prompts you to look up from where you had been staring intently into the wrinkles of his once-pristine dress shirt. His eyes are boring holes into where he’d been staring at your head, desperately waiting for you to do something.

Gods, you want to kiss him so badly right now. You want to kiss him hard and desperate to make up for all the years apart. You want to kiss him soft and tender, so he’ll never leave again.

But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? You can’t destroy this absolutely magnetic friendship that you’ve regained after all these years, just for one kiss. But what if he does feel the same way?

You break away from Marcus. You can feel the energy that’s been coursing through your body from his break as you sever each individual point of contact. You can feel each finger leave the surface of his chest and travel through the suddenly chillier D.C. air. His hands slide down your arms. The last of the contact of your bodies breaks as he squeezes his thumb and pointer finger against your pinky.

“I should go,” Marcus says, fracturing the prolonged eye contact by looking down to the pavement. You look down too, your energy shattered by the sudden loss of contact. “Let’s do this again.” The sound of his voice still holds the joy that filled you both tonight, even as his eyes search the ground for something better to say.

—X—

He always smelled like cedarwood. You can still smell it around you as you close your front door and lean back against it. You know you're going to feel this emptiness tomorrow, a different kind of hangover than the tequila sitting in your stomach threatens you with.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door and you jump out of your disappointment. You look out the peephole and it’s Marcus, fidgeting awkwardly. You open the door, “Hey, did you forget some...” you start to ask but he cuts you off.

“Hey sorry for probably scaring you, but I felt something back there. I don’t know if you felt the same thing, but I was wondering if I could kiss you? And if the answer is no, we can forget …” Now it’s your turn to interrupt him. You grab a hold of his shirt in the same place you held him in the parking lot. You pull against him and he leans down and kisses you.

It’s like something in each of you breaks. A floodgate of emotion opens, channeled through this kiss. Your lips search each other for answers you’ve been longing for since the beginning of time.

One of his hands holds your face, while the other finally roams your body. It’s almost as if he’s charting himself a map, so he’ll never lose you again. It traces down your neck, across your shoulders, phantom fingers on your breasts. You’re not sure if his hand is leaving icicles or flames in its wake, but he has every nerve in your body standing on end.

You break from this kiss, but you don’t travel further than to just murmur against his lips. “Marcus are you sure?” you whisper.

He looks down at you and his eyes shine with more joy than you’d ever seen. You cup his cheek in your hand and all his words, all his ability to profess his love dies in his throat because of the simple gesture. He smiles and nods and whispers your name. You could get used to this, the feeling of his lips on yours and your bodies locked together.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” Marcus says, reading your mind.

“Yes. Forever,” you reply and kiss him again.

fin.

#sl fic challenge #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the mentalist fanfiction #the mentalist #my writing

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charlieswanwhore · 3 years

Text

She (Ginny Weasley x Sapphic! Reader)

notes: can you tell im in love with Ginny Weasley? also my first post in MONTHS im so sorry

masterlist

warning: none :) the end if kind of rushed sry

I'd never tell No, I'd never say a word And oh, it aches But it feels oddly good to hurt

Your soft voice bounced around the stone walls of your dorm. Your hands were raw at this point from playing the guitar and writing for hours. You finally finished the song you had written that expressed your feelings. Humming along while tuning your guitar, you were startled by your best friend and dormmate, Ginny Weasley.

“You’re really good, you know,” her low voice comes from behind you. Looking back at the dorm entrance you saw her coolly leaned against the arch, books in hand, school robes keeping her warm.

Shit. She heard you? You literally wanted anything but anyone to hear it.

Trying to not show too much shock, you muttered a nervous thank you. “Oh, yea, thanks, Gin,” Ginny smiled then ran to the four poster next to yours, sitting directly across from you. “How much of it did you hear?”

“Most of the song, I reckon,” Shitshitshitshit. “Well, I mean, not really. I heard your voice but I couldn’t really hear any of the words since I was just down the hall.” Ginny smiled. She had no clue you were singing a song about her. Thank Godric. Relief washed over you until she spoke up again, “Will you play it for me?”

“Play what?” You were dumbstruck with stress still that your mind went blank.

“The song you were just playing,” Ginny giggled and gave eyes of encouragement. That giggle triggered the butterflies to be let out into your stomach, fluttering around as if it is the first time they have seen day. Her laugh was always one of your favorite things.

“Oh! Yeah, duh. Um, I-I don’t know. I mean, it isn’t gr-” you scrambled to make excuses but Ginny interrupted.

“Oh come on, Y/N. I know it’s amazing. Besides, I am your best friend, I won’t judge even if it was bloody awful,” she grabbed your hand while talking you up. You stared at your hand holding her paled, freckled one. Now you were more nervous than ever.

You shut your eyes before sighing, “Fine! Fine! But you owe me a butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks today,” you pointed at her with stern eyes. Taking in a deep breath before going to strum you saw her get comfortable and wear the biggest smile ever. You soon blushed but the nerves flooded you again. “Ginny, are you sure? My throat is a litt-”.

“Y/N!” she giggled before you responded defensively with an ‘OK’.

Ginny was patient as you got into your zone of focus. After what felt like forever for you, your fingers began to strum. You were doing it, you were playing her the song. Out of nerves to start the lyrics, you played the beginning intro a few too many times before the lyrics spewed from your mouth. You saw from the corner of your eye that Ginny grinned bigger as she saw your mouth open.

Am I allowed, to look at her like that?

And just like that, Ginny’s expression changed at the word “her.” It wasn’t a negative expression, just a curious one. A curious look that was almost permanently on their mutual friend Luna Lovegood’s face. Ginny mouthed the word “her” before tuning into you singing the rest of the song.

Could it be wrong, when she’s just so nice to look at?

This was the point in Ginny’s head that solidified the idea that you were singing about a girl and that she didn’t hear you wrong the first time. There was initial shock at first but overall acceptance to her best friend.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep She tastes like pumpkin juice and peach Oh, you would find her in a Polaroid picture And she means everything to me, oh

That was the verse that you were scared to sing to Ginny the most.

Your head flashed to the day you and Ginny learned about amortentia with their Potions class. Everyone in the class announced what they smelled, but when it got to you, you had to think fast to cover up your answer which would make it almost obviously that you smelled Ginny. “I smell cologne and... today’s breakfast,” your whole class giggled.

Ginny poked you in the ribs, “Almost no one ate whatever it was that they gave us for breakfast,” she pondered, “except Ron.” Her eyes went wide when she thought she put together puzzle pieces. “You like Ron!” she whispered, not quiet enough for us to not earn a glare from the Professor, though. You shrugged, you wanted her off the topic. You began to listen to the rest of your class announce what they smell, pretending that what you said didn’t matter.

And I'll be okay admiring from afar 'Cause even when she's next to me We could not be more far apart

It was true. Although you and Ginny were attached at the hip and knew almost everything about each other, you could not feel more distanced. It wasn’t anything that was Ginny’s fault. It was your own. You were keeping a secret from her. And it wasn’t a secret such as ‘Once I wore your favorite jumper without asking,’ it was that you were in love with her. Hell, Ginny didn’t even know that you liked girls. You created such a large wall to protect yourself and your friendship with Ginny.

And she tastes like birthday cake and storytime and fall But to her, I taste of nothing at all

Your voice got especially raw at that last lyric. You knew she fancied Harry. You knew she only saw you as a friend. You were never more than a friend. Honestly, you had no clue whether or not Ginny would ever swing your way, but you always assumed that she wouldn’t, you did so to protect your feelings.

Ginny was still grinning. Though she had a curious look on her face, she also looked proud. Which, honestly, you are proud of yourself. You are proud of singing in front of her, for coming out to her, and maybe, if it works out, you’ll be proud of being hers.

And she means everything to me Yes, she means everything to me She means everything to me

You closed out the song slowly. You emotions were on edge. You were proud, sad, curious, nervous, and happy all at the same time. Once the guitar stopped vibrating with noise, Ginny began to vocalize her thoughts.

“Y/N! That was so beautiful! The lyrics, your voice... and ‘she’? Y/N! Why didn’t I know?!” she jumped to her feet and softly clapped. You sure hope she meant you liking girls, not being madly in love with her.

Blushing, you messily thank her, “Oh- I- I- Thanks, Gin, I really appreciate it,” you awkwardly said, putting your guitar away as Ginny sat next to you on the bed.

“Don’t avoid the question, Y/N/N” she said staring at you sternly.

“What question?” Now you were playing dumb. You wanted to end this moment as soon as possible, you prayed that your friends would come to the door any second saying that they were ready to go to Hogsmeade.

Without forcing the harsh question, Ginny tried to guide you into answering patiently. “You know... ‘She...’ Merlin, Y/N, that you like girls!” she rolled her eyes playfully before poking you in the ribs.

“Oh...right. I don’t know, it just never came up?” you tried to dumb the situation down but you knew you weren’t going to get away with it.

“‘It never came up,’ Yeah right, Y/N! We have definitely talked about who we like before. I just thought it was Ron all this time, haha! Ron... Thank Godric you don’t fancy my brother,” she was more happy than you thought she would be. It comforted you, but you knew what her next question was going to be.

There was a moment of comfortable silence and calming from the laughing. Ginny then broke that silence, quiet at first. “Um, who is it about? Who is ‘She’?”

There it was. The question you absolutely dreaded.

Looking at her was the scariest moment you have ever experienced. She had to be pulling your leg. You name dropped her literal scent and favorite foods. Meeting her eyes made your stomach drop. You noticed Ginny’s eyes holding a bit of sympathy welded into the curiosity. Did she know it was about her and felt bad? Was she going to be able to tell from your nervous facial expression?

Her beautiful eyes were a trance that almost took her out of her nervous and repeating thoughts. The one thing that did was a group of Gryffindors stopping at your door way.

“Ginny, Y/N, everyone is starting to leave for the Hogsmeade, you ready?” a Gryffindor boy you both were friendly with asked, a few other Gryffindors behind him.

Both of you jumped up and scrambled to get ready, “Yea, we will be there soon, thank you for letting us know!” you said, dressing warm in a quick manner. You were thankful that your classmates interrupted the moment. You wouldn’t mind staring into Ginny’s eyes anytime except for now.

You both quickly headed down to the entrance of the school, meeting with friends. There was tension between you too, nothing negative, just awkward. You tried to wipe the last five minutes from your brain to enjoy Hogsmeade with Ginny and your friends, but negativities swirling in your head made it hard, especially when Ginny kept stealing (what looked like sympathetic) looks at you the entire trip.

***

Walking back from Hogsmeade in the winter was awful. For one, it was too cold for what warm robes everyone had on. On the other hand, Ginny was staring bullet holes into your head the entire time. You couldn’t tell if they were pity or curiosity, but to be honest, you wanted to avoid the situation of finding out as much as possible.

Dinner in the Great Hall was going to be served in about an hour so everyone freezing down to their bones has dedicated the hour to running to their dorms and warming up as soon as possible. Ginny wasn’t an exception to that, she bolted up the stairs leaving you alone to your slow walking. You planned to walk as slow as you could and take as many detours on the moving stairs as you could. When you did walk into your dorm much later, Ginny, now dressed in warmer clothes and slippers, greeted you.

“Y/N! What took you so long? I thought you would’ve run up here to get warm!”

Your eyes shot down to the floor as you paced your way to your four poster, “Oh, just took the long route,” you shrugged, hoping she’d leave it be.

“Y/N,” you turn around towards the voice, which has now moved right behind you.

“Close your eyes,” Ginny said. Nervously, you close your eyes.

It is nothing but darkness for a bit. That is until you feel a tug on your neck from your scarf. That loses your focus before it is on the pair of soft lips on yours.

She was kissing you. Ginny Weasley was kissing you.

The kiss was short and sweet but enough to make you shocked and have butterflies brewing between the two of you.

After pulling apart, Ginny speaks up, “you taste of... butterbeer and... sugar quills,” she grins softly.

You stared wide eyed at the doe eyed girl. She reads the shock on your face and is immediately filled with regret.

“Oh Godric, the song wasn’t about me, was it? I just thought so since some of the clues connected with me and I have been in love with you for two years so I guess I just assumed. Godric, this is so embarass-” Ginny’s nervous ran was cut off by a kiss between you. This kiss was longer. Your arms were around eachother, breath was running out fast.

“It’s you, you dork. The song is about you,” you confess before kissing her once again.

#Ginny Weasley #ginny weasley x reader #ginny weasley imagine #ginny weasley imagines #ginny weasley fanfic #ginny weasley fluff #hp #harry potter

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

duet | the fire in his veins

DUET MASTERLIST

desc: it’s the final year, and george wants to make things happen. but there are a lot of feelings hanging in the air, aren’t there? he’s stressed to the max, and it’s not helping that you are, too. your schedules don’t match up, umbridge is on his tail, and hormones are raging. he finds himself spreading himself far too thin and eventually things boil over and explode. he worries if you can both recover from it all. but when he holds you in his arms, he wonders if staying angry at one another would even be possible.

a/n: hello! it’s been a bit, sorry, i've been rubbish at writing this chapter. i had no inspiration. but then it struck! so sorry for the angst, except I'm not sorry at all -- it was needed. we’re back to the final year at hogwarts this year, loves, so we’re backtracking a bit, but we hope you enjoy. remember when y/n had visited the burrow the summer before seventh year and everything had seemed so perfect? l o l. enjoy, and please don’t hate me! ps: full masterlist is linked above if ya need a catch up!

word count: 5.3k (sry nt sry)

warning(s): angst and things

The corridors seemed weirdly empty as he strolled slowly through them. But they weren’t empty -- not in the slightest. Excited second and third years were scooting past the very nervous-looking eleven-year-olds on the steps leading up to their newest and greatest adventure. He found himself reminiscing, because how could he not? It was his seventh and final year, after all.

George found himself feeling a mixture of emotions as he entered the Great Hall -- sadness. Fear. Relief. Exhilaration.

But there was one thing he seemed to feel that was stronger than everything else. Stronger than the anxiety he was feeling that it was his final year at his favorite place. Stronger than the happiness he felt at the thought of him finally being able to pursue his dreams. Stronger than the fear he felt of the unknown that awaited him after leaving school.

He found you standing near your table with your usual smile painted on your face, the yellow ribbon tied in your hair, your hand on your hip. You threw your head back in laughter at something a fellow Hufflepuff had said, and he relished the thought of hearing it again. Not that it had been long, really. You’d only left the Burrow a week before the start of term in order to go home, grab any last minute belongings you might’ve left, and were about to take your usual spot next to him and Fred on the train, but much to George’s dismay, you were dragged away by your very dramatic housemates who had pulled you away, prattling on about it being the final year. You’d looked so painfully beautiful when you frowned at him, he couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Sorry”, you’d mouthed at him through the window of his compartment. George had just shrugged and smiled brightly as you were yanked by a very distraught looking girl with curly black hair, and he turned back to Fred who had been feverishly working on their inventions in the boxes placed at their feet. George had loads of work to do before the train arrived at Hogwarts. But he still couldn’t shake that painful twinge of jealousy that had overtaken him. Dramatic, yes. But couldn’t he just blame it on the love he felt instead?

When you looked up from your conversation and met his gaze, you dropped your arm and your eyes immediately softened. He felt the all too familiar butterflies begin to dance in his stomach -- the feeling he got whenever your lingering gaze had locked with his across large rooms. Yeah, he could absolutely blame it on love. Because that’s what this was, right? That’s all he seemed to feel for you. Love. Nothing but pure, genuine, head-over-heels, massive feelings of love. He noticed that grin he knew all too well spread itself across your face, and you began scooting your way through students to get to him. “Erm -- ‘scuse me -- sorry, love, trying to get to someone --” George’s heart had nearly constricted when you’d said the word love. He wanted you to call him that. He felt his cheeks flush cherry red at the thought, and thanked Merlin that neither you, nor Fred, nor anyone else could hear his embarrassing inner monologue.

“Okay, okay, so what did I miss on the train?” you asked, finally getting to him as you pushed your way past a group of Ravenclaws. “A hug, for one!”

You locked your arms around his shoulders, and he noticed you were standing on the tips of your toes in order to be able to hug him. It was so adorable, he could scream, but he reckoned that wouldn’t be the best thing to do in a room of crowded students. He slung his arms around your waist and breathed in the scent of your hair.

“Nothing too exciting,” he lied. He did not like the fact that Fred had sworn him to secrecy about their products and the fact that they’d be opening up a shop after graduating school -- or, perhaps, even sooner. You can’t say a word to anyone, Georgie! He’d shot Fred a quizzical look, with an eyebrow raised, and Fred had pointed a finger at him threateningly. No, not even Y/N. Not until the products are finished and we start testing them out on the first years. George had scoffed dramatically while Fred had fallen into a fit of laughter at his own joke. So keeping his word he’d made to his twin, George swallowed down all the words he wanted to say, and instead just said, “We missed you, though.”

“I’ve missed you too! Merlin, all the girls did the entire train ride is complain about it being the final year. They’re so silly! I will admit, I was sad at the end of last term,” you threw your hands up in surrender as George cocked his head to the side and smiled at you. He knew how much you’d cried thinking on it being the last and final year, “but I reckon we’ve got to make the most of it, haven’t we? Which is why --” you teasingly poked him in the ribs and echoed yourself from the conversation you’d held with Fred at the end of last term, “-- we’ve got to spend as much time together as we can!”

George felt his throat tighten a bit. Could he? Could he really spend as much time as possible with you while also focusing on the inventions, on the shop, all while keeping up his studies and staying out of trouble, and more importantly, detention? Bloody hell, he’d make himself do it, wouldn’t he?

Before he could answer, a very pompous ‘hem-hem’ came from a plump woman dressed obnoxiously in all pink as she scurried her way through students and over to the main table at the front of the hall. You and George both exchanged a look of disgust, and suddenly he didn’t feel so confident about this year anymore.

“Why,” you breathed, raising an eyebrow, “does she look like an advertisement for one of those medicines you take when you’re feeling ill?”

George could not help the very haughty laugh that involuntarily escaped his lips. A few students peered over at you both, and the sheer fact alone that you’d made him laugh just a few minutes in seemed to lighten his spirits tremendously.

The crowd of students in the middle of the Great Hall seemed to part like the red sea at the arrival of this woman. She shot incredibly fake grins at a few of the older students, who did not return her welcome, and she carried herself with such an air of arrogance that George swore he saw Dumbledore roll his eyes from next to McGonagall.

“Who is she?” you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest and jutting out your hip. Both of you did not take your eyes off of the pink lady, and watched as she took her place at the Headmasters table. Oh, no.

And the laugh that had escaped George just a few seconds ago felt as though it was lightyears away. He shook his head and groaned audibly, thinking that there couldn’t possibly be another professor as awful as Professor Snape. Little did he know, she’d be even worse. “Think she’s our new worst nightmare.”

-- -

You were positively peeved, for lack of a better word. You were seventeen -- you were allowed to be dramatic, weren’t you? You flopped back onto your bed in a huff and placed a pillow over your face to muffle your scream -- and you screamed. Why was George being such a bloody idiot? Hadn’t you told him, multiple times, how much time you wanted to spend together this year? Your unwavering love for him aside, he was your best mate, and for Merlin’s sake, it was your final year at school! You’d both be off in a few months time, doing adult things and seeing one another significantly less, and this stupid boy could not comprehend what “hanging out” seemed to mean. Ugh.

“Heading down for lunch,” your dormmate said to you, “care to join?”

Begrudgingly you agreed, but only because you couldn’t stand the hunger that overtook you. You would’ve stayed there and yelled the entire afternoon if you could.

You felt a pang in your heart at the sight of him, surrounded by his siblings and his friends at the Gryffindor table. It was moments like these, moments of pure jealousy, that made you want to be a Gryffindor. You resented that very much. You loved being a Hufflepuff, but still. The idea of being able to see him in the early hours of the morning in the same common room, groggy from sleep with his (undoubtedly) adorable bedhead intrigued you to no end. You’d be able to see him more often than not, and you knew, with how the two of you got on, that you’d stay up until the late hours of the evening, sharing silly stories and joking until the sun rose.

But no. Instead, he was joking around with them, and you’d been yelling into the void in your dormitory.

You noticed that he and Fred were busy fiddling with something in their hands, as their fellow Gryffindors looked on in pure admiration. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the Hufflepuff table.

You sat down, willed yourself to not look and began to scoop considerable amounts of food onto your plate. You weren’t sure if it was the hunger that was overwhelming, or the jealousy. The anger. Regardless, you bit into your sandwich rather aggressively.

You let yourself be weak, just once, and turned to peer over at him again, hoping he’d meet your gaze, just like he always did. But this time, he didn’t. He was busy chatting animatedly with a few other seventh years -- you recognized a few of them from the Quidditch team, but most of them you didn’t know. The jealousy inside you spread through your bones like a rapid fire. You gulped down the rest of your pumpkin juice in a rage, swung your bag across your shoulder, and sauntered out of the Great Hall without making any eye-contact. It’s not like he’s looking anyway, you thought dramatically.

Little did you know, George watched you storm out of the Great Hall, and his heart and mind followed you all the way to your Transfiguration lesson, aching terribly along the way.

You hoped you wouldn’t run into him on your walk from Transfiguration to Potions, but luck didn’t seem to be on your side today.

“Hey!” he called out to you. A bright grin was painted across his face. He seemed far too happy for someone who’d just come from a lesson with Umbridge. You ignored his calls and made your way swiftly toward the dungeons, but he was quicker. He was panting when he finally caught up to you. Familiar hands grabbed your shoulders and you sucked in a breath. You turned to face him and scowled. He peered at you questioningly. “You alright? Why so glum?”

“Why d’you think?” you asked coolly. You pointed flatly toward the staircase. “Heading to Snape’s lesson.”

George furrowed his brows at you, seemingly taken aback by the irritated tone to your voice. You tried to soften, but you were still pretty angry. “Is everything alright? Haven’t seen much of you..”

“Well whose fault is that?” you snapped. You didn’t mean too, but the resentment was bubbling up inside you like that of a volcano -- you couldn’t help if you exploded. For years, you’d always felt tiny next to him, especially because his 6’3 frame could easily swallow you whole. But now, as he looked down at you with concern and guilt whilst you seemingly boiled over, you felt bigger and better. “I’ve tried spending time with you, George, but all you seem to want to do is be with other Gryffindors. I’ve tried to make plans, tried to sit with you at lunch, but Umbridge doesn’t let us..” your voice trailed off and you huffed a bit, “that’s besides the point. It doesn’t help that we’re both on completely different schedules and the DA meetings are the only time I get to see you, and even that is barely anything because we’re so bloody busy trying to learn!” Most of his lessons were different than yours, since you were now en route to becoming a Healer. “I told you at the beginning of term that I wanted to try and spend as much time as we possibly could together, but apparently to you, that just means insignificant chats in the corridors between lessons and smiles across classrooms and not much more than that.”

You were actually pretty impressed with yourself that you’d been able to say that all in one breath; you breathed in deeply and looked up at him, a very childlike pout on your face, and watched as he uncomfortably adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder and shifted his eyes toward the floor. You knew you’d hit home. Guilt. That was always his look for guilt.

“I’ve been a right awful friend. I know.”

And just like that, all feelings of aggravation seemed to subside and your temper seemingly calmed down a bit, just by the sheer fact that his voice sounded so small. So innocent. So pained.

You shook your head and scoffed at yourself. A few passerby stared at the two of you. “Look. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have blown up at you. That was wrong of me. Think I’m just dreading this Potions lesson.” You let out a sigh and the two of you laughed softly at one another. “I just -- I just miss you, is all.”

“You don’t have to apologize -- you’re right. I miss you, too. We haven’t spent nearly as much time together as I would have liked. I’m the one who’s sorry. The fault is completely my own.” You hated how adult he sounded, but you couldn’t help but grin at him -- not when you were nearly swimming in the innocence of his chocolate brown eyes. In a quieter voice, he continued, “I’ll explain it all tonight. You free?”

“Erm --” you looked around you to make sure nobody was listening. You gave him an answer that sounded more like a question. “Yes?”

“Meet me near the Architect of Hogwarts statue after the feast.. I’ll sneak you up to my common room. I’ve got something to tell you. To show you.”

Your heart soared at the thought. Maybe luck was on your side. You tried to push all hopes and wishes of him confessing his love to you aside. It was probably something else. And yet, you couldn’t help the very bright smile you gave him. To think, just seconds ago, you’d been so angry. It was difficult to stay mad at George Weasley.

“Yeah?” you asked, trying to hide the eagerness in your voice.

He placed a kiss onto your cheek when the bell signaled the start of the next lesson in exactly two minutes. Merlin, you needed to get down to the dungeons, but how could you now that your feet were cemented into the ground? Your breath hitched at the feeling of his lips softly grazing your skin. The upturned corners of his mouth made the butterflies in your stomach swirl. To think that Gilderoy Lockhart had won Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award, when George’s was far more charming, more intriguing. So much easier to melt in. “See you later?”

“Yeah,” you replied breathlessly. He then squeezed your shoulder and headed off in the opposite direction toward his next lesson. Maybe you could tell him, perhaps, if the theatrics of the night were exciting enough. You relished the thought of sneaking him up to your dormitory and cuddling up next to him in your bed, instead of another night yelling straight into your pillow, crying over the boy you loved so very deeply.

He turned around at the other end of the corridor and winked at you before vanishing completely down the next hallway.

Somehow, the prospect of spending the next hour and a half in Potions didn’t seem so awful after all.

-- -

The Quidditch grounds were really cold. So much so that you were certain you couldn’t feel your fingers. You pulled your hat tighter over your head and breathed into your hands. And yet, you were there, because you needed to be, didn’t you? You needed to be a supportive Hufflepuff for Gryffindor in this match versus Slytherin. For Fred. For Harry. For George.

It had been a few weeks since George had told you all about the inventions he and Fred had been working on, and how they were going to open up a shop after graduating. It was thrilling, the entire idea of it, and you noticed a change in him when he’d animatedly told you everything there was to know that night in the bustling Gryffindor common room. His eyes were wide with electrification. The fire in his veins set him aflame.

“This is wicked! Which one is your favorite?”

“Love potions, I think.”

“You guys are bloody brilliant! I’m so proud of you!”

That sheepish, childlike grin crept onto his face as a feeling of warmth flooded him at your compliment. “Thanks, Y/N.”

And it really was brilliant -- it was unfair, you thought, that people only saw George and Fred as pranksters. As the two blokes who always make people laugh. As the ones who always end up in detention. They were so much more than that, weren’t they? They were so incredibly brilliant -- not to mention the type of magic they needed to understand and manage to do in order to create some of these inventions was beyond some of your other fellow seventh years. It was incredibly advanced, especially for two seventeen-year-olds. Why didn’t more people understand this?

You were so proud. How could you not be? You relished the thought of one day being able to visit them and their booming business. It was such an exciting endeavor that you simply felt nothing more than pure adoration toward them both.

And here, now, watching them impress you yet again with their incredible Quidditch skills, you wanted to yell. Look! Look at them both! Look at Fred and his fantastic flying skills as he zooms between other players, leaving dust in their wake! Look at George and how he’s able to pummel a bludger across the length of a field and barely break a sweat whilst doing it!

You grinned at the thought; they really were both more than just the surface of their personalities. They were so much more than just twin brothers. You wished people would notice their differences the way you did.

Things had still been tense, though. You now understood why George had been so occupied and not able to spend as much time with you as you’d both wanted. You kept on apologizing -- you felt so bloody awful about snapping at him that one day in the corridor -- and he kept placing his hand to your knee and telling you to not think on it anymore.

But he’d made an effort, and so did you. Lunches near the Black Lake even in the cooler autumn air, late night strolls throughout the castle, choosing seats closer to one another in lessons to share those smiles you secretly thought about nearly every moment of every day. You loved them far much more than you’d let on.

You were pulled from your thoughts when Ginny gently elbowed you in the ribs. You felt your face flush and thanked Merlin that she couldn’t hear your thoughts. When you turned to look at her, though, her face was flooded with worry. You followed her gaze and noticed a very angry Harry, Fred, and George making a beeline right toward Draco. They looked so incredibly different. So angry. So animalistic.

Before you could register what was happening, Ginny grabbed your arm and tugged you down toward the field.

-- -

George found himself yelling swears he knew his mother would most certainly not approve of, and if she’d heard him, he’d be on the receiving end of a very angry Howler at any moment.

He couldn’t help himself though. A new, dangerous type of fury took him over. How dare someone as misguided as Draco Malfoy insult his family? He’d taken the insults before. He’d heard them and let them roll off his back. He’d ignored the snickers. He’d ignored the gentle pokes and prods people had tried to make to piss him off. He hadn’t wanted to be a bad influence on Ron and Ginny, especially when they were younger and first starting out. He’d warned Fred not to let it bother him, either. But now, with his stress levels through the roof about his studies, and the shop, the inventions, his over-the-top emotions when it came to you -- he felt like he was about to explode. And unlucky for him, Malfoy was in his line of fire.

He felt his blood boiling. He didn’t know where Fred was and quite honestly he didn’t care -- he grabbed Malfoy by the collar of his shirt and lifted him right off of the ground. “How dare you?” he yelled -- his voice sounded foreign and ferocious in his own ears as it echoed across the pitch. Next to him, Harry was red faced and vibrating with rage. For the first time in his entire life, George felt nothing but pure, genuine hatred toward this despicable excuse of a human. The very terrifying and unnatural feeling of wanting to inflict pain and hurt coursed through his body. He wanted to punch Malfoy straight in the jaw, he wanted to kick him in the ribs enough times to break them, he wanted to watch the blood trickle from his mouth.

He felt nothing but loathing.

It was before George could fully register his own actions that you were there -- in front of him -- your eyes flooded with concern and worry as you ripped his hands off of Malfoy’s chest.

“George, calm down,” you said. Next to him, Ginny and Hermione were attempting to tame Harry, as Ron watched, wide eyed and scared. Fred was just barely being held back by Katie, Alicia and Angelina, the veins in his arms were pulsating with rage. You grabbed the collar of George’s uniform and he seemed to come out of his trance. “It’s alright -- you’ve got to stop, this isn’t you --”

He felt as if his angered self had stepped completely out of his physical body when you brought your hands to his cheeks. Your eyes were bloodshot and he felt a pang in his heart to know that you might’ve been crying at this whole exchange. He immediately began scolding himself, especially when he felt a firm yank on his sleeve.

He was dragged immediately toward the castle, with Harry on the other side of him, leaving you standing shrunken on the field amongst a shocked group of students. He turned around once and locked in eye contact. There was a look of disappointment in your eyes and he felt his heart sink quite quickly into his stomach.

Your eyes were the last thing he could focus on before preparing himself for a severe punishment that no doubt awaited him and his ridiculous actions.

-- -

You were sitting on Ginny’s bed, twiddling your thumbs and tapping your feet melodically against the hardwood floor beneath you, waiting for her to return with any sort of news.

It had been a strange, terrifying ordeal, watching the boys nearly throw themselves at Draco like that. They’d looked like they were about to commit some type of murder. You felt your heart begin to pound at the sheer thought of it all. The animalistic look in his eye, the subhuman way he’d grabbed Malfoy by the collar of his uniform, like he wasn’t really here. He wasn’t really present. It made your skin tingle in the worst of ways.

Just then, Ginny popped her head in. “They’re here.”

By the time you got downstairs to the very desolate looking Gryffindor common room, Fred had already huffed his way up to the boys dormitory. George, though, was slumped in an armchair, rubbing his temples generously and ripping away parts of his uniform. He was incredibly disheveled looking.

“Georgie?”

You wanted to yell at him. You wanted to scream at him so bloody terribly. How could you have been so stupid! You could’ve been expelled, you silly boy! You could’ve been hurt! But when he looked up, his eyes distant and exhausted and painted, all you saw flooding through his expression was pure guilt. He’d probably gotten enough tongue lashings for one evening. You sighed and slid yourself next to him on the couch.

He let his head fall into his hands. “I’m a bloody idiot. I know.”

“Not what I was going to say.”

“No?”

You sighed again and placed your hand gently to his knee. You could’ve sworn he’d sucked in a breath at the exact moment of contact, but you ignored it. “What.. what happened out there?”

“Draco and his bloody comments,” George snapped angrily. You jumped a bit at the harshness in his voice and he immediately retreated, placing his hand gently on top of yours and apologizing. He took in a deep breath. “Just -- couldn’t handle it anymore. ‘m sorry if I scared you.”

“You really did, you know.”

He fell backwards onto the couch and shut his eyes tight.

You continued when he didn’t, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Wouldn’t it have been better if I’d come out of it with a black eye, or something?”

You both laughed a bit and you traced your fingers across his cheekbones slowly. He swallowed thickly. “No. It wouldn’t have been better. Don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“I know.”

You were both silent.

“Got banned from Quidditch.”

You shot up straighter, shocked. “What?”

“Remember when I said the first night that Umbridge was going to be our worst nightmare?” he sighed, shaking his head. “Never knew I was going to be so bloody right.”

“George, I’m -- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s my own fault.”

You both sat uncomfortably in the very thick silence that hung in the air between you. George sat up and straightened himself out. He ran his hands very quickly through his messy hair and took a few deep breaths as if he was still trying to calm himself down from the events that had just transpired. You reckoned he should be more upset about being banned from Quidditch. It was his favorite thing. Why was he not bursting at the seams with anger? Deep in your soul, you knew this was different. This wasn’t about Quidditch, or the fight with Draco, or the tenseness of it being your last and final year. This was more.

“George,” you breathed, preparing yourself for whatever was to come, “just tell me.”

It felt strange when he took your hands in his. You weren’t a couple. Not even close, no matter how many nights you dreamt of it, no matter how much of your days were spent imagining it, no matter how much you tried to will it into existence -- he wasn’t yours and you weren’t his. So this, him holding your hands and peering at you on the couch in the desolate common room, felt fraudulent. Selfishly, though, you wanted it to last forever.

“You know,” he started, and his voice sounded hoarse, “the plans that Fred and I have.”

“Of course I do.”

“About the inventions. And the shop.”

“Yes, yes, I know all of this.”

You tried not to let your anxious mind meander whilst he took his sweet time telling you what he needed too.

“We’ve been talking a lot lately. Fred and I. Which I suppose is why I’ve been so bloody stressed and just… lashed out at Quidditch today. We’ve had a change of plans.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and swallowed over that all too familiar lump in your throat that appeared each time you got nervous. Your hands felt like ice. “What kind of change?”

He squeezed your hands. He took a deep breath. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “We’re leaving sooner than we thought. End of April. Right after the Easter holidays.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing -- not really, anyway. Which is why you felt so embarrassed when his facial expression didn’t change as you laughed. You shook your head and smiled at him, because this had to be a joke, right? You’d been talking with him about graduation since the day you met one another. He wasn’t really planning on giving that all up?

“You’re.. you’re serious?”

He just nodded and bit his lip nervously.

“Um..” you hated the fact that you were brought to tears so quickly. If you hadn’t been so emotional you would’ve been able to notice just how wobbly your voice sounded and you would’ve been able to scold yourself. “I’m.. so happy for you guys.”

George reached out to try and pull you into an embrace. “Y/N--”

“No, really, I am,” you bit down hard on your lip to try and push back any tears rising to the surface of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see you cry. You couldn’t. But you could only do so much before the tears were escaping you without any effort, and you were letting George pull you into his chest as he traced gentle circles into your back.

Through a few choked sobs, you tried to tell him how you felt, truthfully -- that you’d never been more proud of him than in this moment, that this endeavor was just the beginning for them, that you would support him and Fred with every ounce of your entire being, that you were so thrilled to watch as their business would no doubt boom and their inventions would take the Wizarding World by storm. That he doesn’t know how bloody brilliant he is. That he doesn’t know just how much you love him and believe in him. But you couldn’t seem to find the right words. You couldn’t seem to speak coherently. All that seemed to trickle from you were tears. Somehow, though, you had a strong feeling that he already knew all of those things. “I’m really going to miss you,” you cried.

You felt him tense up in your arms and you just held him tighter. You rolled your eyes at your own dramatic self. He sniffled a bit when he breathed, “I’m really going to miss you, too.” But when his voice sounded just as wobbly as yours, you reckoned it was okay to cry if he was going to cry, too.

The two of you stayed there like that for a while. Gryffindors seemed to flood in and out, not questioning the tiny Hufflepuff girl in the middle of their common room. And for the rest of the evening, as the two of you had both calmed down a bit, you reminisced. You both shared stories about your first thoughts on Hogwarts when you’d arrived as a first year. You both talked about the last seven years. You both told one another what had been your favorite parts of your years at school, and what you’d disliked about the castle and curriculum. What you wouldn’t miss at all. What you’d miss the most.

One another.

That night, when you went to bed, it was restless. Disturbed. Nothing, if not very, very awful. But when you did finally catch some sleep, you dreamt very vividly of the thirteen-year-old boy who caught your attention in Charms class with that silly paper swan, and how you’d continued to fall in love with him every single day since that chance encounter.

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#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp imagine #this takes place in appleton wisconsin shoutout 2 ma discord gurls

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hologramband · 4 years

Text

Never The 1

(gif crds cryinghimbos)

Alive!Reggie x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: This is taking place after the boys cross over, I like the little theory where “crossing over” means just “crossing over” back to life or something, idk we gonna roll with it tho lol.

The song I use in this is “Never the 1” by ROSIE

The hallways were busy as you and Flynn walked side by side to your next class. This dreary Monday was almost over, just one class stood between you and hanging out with your friends.

You knew how to sing, but you never thought you were any good, so you tended to keep to writing lyrics here and there, but mostly helping with Flynns sides of things when it came to advertising the bands events and other things, helping the band in a few different ways.

“So, (Y/n), how have things been going with you and Dylan? Is he starting to be more okay with you spending more time with the band?” Flynn started a conversation while waiting for you to switch your books at your locker.

Dylan was your boyfriend of seven months, things had been good between the two of you until you started wanting to spend more of your time with Julie and the boys the last month or so. You had an image issue before you met Dylan, never really being confident in yourself, you liked hiding in the background. Julie and Flynn had always included you in everything they did, but something just finally clicked with Dylan, he made you feel special.

When the band took off you were ecstatic, growing close with each of the boys, especially Reggie, your personalities meshing really well, and Alex, him becoming like a brother to you.

You still made time for Dylan, hanging out with him when you weren’t helping the band, even invited him to practices when you went, but for some reason he wasn’t a fan of hanging out with your friends.

“Eh, he’ll come around eventually. He can’t expect me not to have any friends other than him.” You shrugged your shoulders and closed the locker door, the two of you changing topics and continuing to class.

When you get there a smile instantly grows on your face, this was your favorite class of the day since you shared it with both Flynn, Julie, and the boys.

“(Y/n)! Hi! Are you coming to practice today?” Reggie smiled as you sat in your seat across from him.

“Well duhh, wouldn't miss it.” You smiled back and looked around at the rest of the group, falling into a conversation with the rest of them.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, signaling you got a text from someone, looking down you saw it was Dylan.

-Hey babe, something came up so I, won’t be able to go to Julies with you after school, sry :/-

You frown at the message, he hasn’t been to a single practice yet, “something” always coming up, but send a short reply saying it was okay before the teacher, Ms. Adamson walked in and started her lesson.

“Alright class, for the next project I want to get your creative juices flowing,” She clasps her hands together and moved to the board, switching her powerpoint slide to the instructions to the new assignment, “by the end of the week I want you all to have an original piece prepared to present or preform for the class.”

You felt your eyes widen and your body stiffen, the main reason you haven’t ever let anyone hear you sing was due to your crippling stage fright.

You glance around and see the rest of your friends smiling and high fiving each other, seeing this as another opportunity to bring a light to the band.

“Is this a group project?” Luke raised his hand and asked, only to be met with a smirk and a shake of the teachers head.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Patterson, this is an individual project, consider it a time for everyone to showcase what talents they have and are keeping hidden,” Ms. Adamson laid her hand on your desk and sent a subtle wink your way.

She had walked in on you one day in the music room while you were messing around with some new lyrics for the song the band was working on.

You sunk in your seat a bit more and looked to see the rest of your friends looking your way, slight confusion on their faces, meaning they also saw the wink your teacher had sent your way.

The rest of the lesson was focused on the details of the project and her giving ideas on what could be done other than music, such as spoken word, a painting, etc. You spent the rest of class figuring out what you could do other than sing, but had a feeling Ms. Adamson would accept nothing else from you.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day and everyone stood from their chairs and collectively walked to their lockers, getting ready to walk to Julies for practice.

You made your way to your own locker, smiling when you saw Dylan standing to the side of it.

“Hey, Dyl.” You went to give him a kiss, but he moved his head so your lips landed on his cheek instead.

“Sorry I can’t come today, I bombed a test in math so Mr. Douglas is making me stay after with a tutor for the next week to fix my grade.” He shrugged his shoulders and his eyes were darting from place to place.

Deciding not to comment on his weird behavior, pushing it off as just embarrassment of failing the test.

“No worries, you’ll make it to one eventually,” You smiled at him and saw the crew walking towards you, everyone always walked to Julies together after school.

Dylan noticed your gaze shifting and stiffened at the sight of all of them.

“Hey,” You placed a hand on his arm, confusion growing, “everything okay?”

He simply shrugged your hand off.

“Yeah, yeah, just gotta get to the library, see ya.” He left a chaste kiss on the top of your head as he rushed in the opposite direction of your friends.

“What was all that about?” Alex commented as he swung an arm around your shoulders.

You were still in shock that he ran off like that, but again blamed it on the bad grade, as dumb as it was.

“Not sure,” you mumbled, quickly changing your attitude, “you guys ready to head out?”

With nods all around you all started the short walk to Julies.

Practice went great, the band trying out new songs that Luke and Julie had written, you fixing a few of the lines so the song flowed a bti better.

During one of the breaks, everyone decided to sit and talk about the upcoming project.

“What are you guys gonna do? Not being able to play as a band?” You wiggled your eyebrows at the group and they all kinda shrugged.

“Oh I know what i'm doing! “Home is Where My Horse Is” will finally get the recognition it deserves!” Reggie stretches his arms along the back of the couch that the two of you were sitting on, setting his feet on the table in front of him.

Laughter erupted from everyone, already knowing that was what Reggie would do.

“What about you,” Alex turned the attention to you, “Ms. Adamson sent a pretty pointed wink your way when explaining it was gonna be individual.”

You felt your cheeks burn a bit and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Eh, you know how she is, I’m sure I’ll come up with something.” You looked around and realized that your answer hadn’t satisfied the group.

Your phone again buzzed with a text from your mom saying you needed to get home.

“Oh, sorry guys, mom needs me for Dinner,” you stood quickly.

“Ah, saved by ‘mom’,” Julie winked.

You laughed as you gathered your things.

“I’ll walk you!” Reggies exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, meeting you by the garage doors.

This was a pretty normal experience for the two of you, Reggie and you always enjoying the walk together, being more open with just the two of you rather than the whole group.

“Lets go, partner,” you winked at the reference to his growing love for country music.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk, but after the sun went down it was always safer to have someone with you.

Another thing that happens when the sun goes down is the reminder that you forgot a jacket, a slight chill running down your spine. You had hoped that you covered it up with a couch, but within seconds an extra layer of warmth was thrown across your shoulders.

Reggie had taken his flannel from his waist and given it to you, you thanked him as you pushed your arms through the sleeves.

“So, how are things with you and Dylan? You seemed upset earlier when we got to your locker.” Reggies glanced at you.

“Oh, you know, it’s fine, he’s just been a bit distant lately, i’m not sure what’s going on but i'm sure we’ll get through it.” You shrugged and looked at your shoes, suddenly finding them very interesting.

“There’s something else, c’mon, (Y/n),” Reggie slightly bumped his shoulder into yours, causing you to look up at him, a slight smile from the action on your face, but falling instantly.

“Um,” you look back at your shoes, “it’s really nothing, silly really.” You shrugged your shoulder again, stopping as you got to your driveway.

The real reason you had been so shocked when Dylan walked away earlier was due to him not telling you he loved you, he had always said those three words before parting your side, no matter the circumstances, for the last four months of your relationship. When he didn’t say them this afternoon it took you by surprise.

“Well, you know i’m always here right?” Reggie moved a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up in his direction.

“No matter what it’s about, whether you need to rant, cry, or share something really cool, I’m always here to listen,” He smiles down at you, causing you to crinkle your nose and smile back, bringing him into a short hug.

“Thanks, Reg. It really means a lot.” You pull away and walk the last few steps to your house, hesitating at the doorway, turning back as Reggie spoke again.

“Have a good night, (Y/n),” Reggie smiled at your retreating figure, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You too, see you tomorrow!” You waved and walked in the door to your house, pulling his flannel a little tighter once the door closed, then shaking the thoughts that were entering your head away.

Reggie was just a friend, plus you had a boyfriend, Dylan might be distant right now, but he was still there…

---

The next few days had gone by quicker than you anticipated, it now being Thursday and you still didn’t have a plan for what you were going to do in class the next day.

You had tried writing a few lyrics, but nothing felt right, you couldn’t find the right inspiration for what you wanted to do, you honestly didn’t even know what you wanted to do. At this point your game plan was to fake being sick so you wouldn’t have to stand up in front of the class, gasping like a goldfish out of water.

You sat in your last class of the day, all your friends talking about what they were doing tomorrow, Alex had a drum solo with a few lyrics he had come up with, Luke singing one of his songs he was able to whip up within an hour, Julie doing the same, Flynn had made a really cool beat she was going to freestyle to, and Reggie had Home is Where My Horse Is.

Ms. Adamson had given you the day to work and finalize your projects for tomorrow, and you were starting to feel overwhelmed.

The bell rang and snapped you out of the anxious trance you had been in.

You walked to your locker and tried to figure out what you were going to do, you had under 24 hours to figure something out now.

“Hey, (Y/n), you coming?” Reggie and the rest of the group were at your side, waiting to see if you were going to walk back with them.

“Um, I think I’m gonna stay back today, I really need to focus and figure out what I’m going to do for tomorrow,” You ran a hand through your hair and let out a breath, “Plus I think Dylan is tutoring in the library so I might see if he can help or something, I haven't really much from him lately.” You lightly laughed at how sad that sounded, and shook your head, waving to the group as you walked towards the library.

“Let me know if you need anything!” Reggie called out and you sent a grateful smile his way.

You didn’t see Dylan when you walked in, so you choose a secluded spot in the corner, trying to get some work done.

After 30 minutes of staring at the blank paper, you give up, deciding to call it a sick day tomorrow and pray that something comes to you this weekend.

As you pack up your things you scan the room again, curious if maybe Dylan had just come in without you noticing, but frown when you don’t see him.

You start drafting a text to him that you were looking for him, but stopped when you heard a book fall from the shelves a few rows away, and a moan that sounds quite familiar.

Slowly, you walked down the aisle paralleling where you heard the noises coming from, and froze by what you saw through a break in the books.

Dylan was here after all, but he had his hands all over someone else, lips on someone who wasn’t you.

A tear escaped from your eye as you turned away, deleting the text message you were going to send and starting a new one.

-Hey, I was looking for you in the Library. I found you… I left the bracelet you got me on the table by your aisle. -

You removed the small charm bracelet the boy had given you after your three month anniversary and placed it on the table, hit send, and blocked his number.

Tears were flowing freely now, as well as your thoughts.

Did he ever care?

Was I just a joke to him?

Did he ever love me?

Why wasn’t I enough?

You found yourself in the school's music room, taking a deep breath as you sat down, pulling out your song journal.

Inadvertently, Dylan had given you just the inspiration you needed for your song.

Your fingers flowed freely on the keys, finding the right melody for the emotions you were feeling. You played and wrote the notes down, some lyrics came now, but you were focused on the melody.

The janitor eventually came around and told you that you had to leave, and you rushed home, not wanting to forget the lyrics you had in your head.

You skipped dinner and ran straight to your room when you got home, the tears starting again as your phone flashed with a text, not due to the sender, but the picture on your lock screen.

Angrily you opened your phone and deleted all the pictures of the boy you had loved, not wanting the reminder that you had trusted him flashing in your face anymore.

While deleting the pictures you ran across one of you and Reggie messing around in the garage, the next one of Flynn and Julie with their arms wrapped around you.

You smiled and set your lock screen as the picture of the girls and you, your new background the picture of you and Reggie.

Feeling a bit better, you went back to work on writing the lyrics that you had been thinking of.

When you finally finished, you saw the clock flashing 4am at you.

Having all your emotions finally written out on paper made you feel worlds better, and you found sleep easy after, but just too easy at that.

When you woke up the next day you saw that you had already missed the first few classes of the day.

Reggie, Julie, and Flynn had all called and left text messages asking where you were.

Cursing, you got up and dressed, throwing the first things on that you could find, one item happened to be Reggies flannel he had lent you the other day, giving you a sense of ease when you breathed in his cologne.

When brushing your teeth you saw your reflection and gasped, no amount of makeup would cover up the red puffy eyes that blessed your face.

With a sigh you splashed some cold water on them, helping a little, only being able to tell now if someone was really looking.

Not having the time to focus on this you gathered your things and ran to school.

You walked through the doors and took note of the time, and made your way to the lunch room where you found your friends at their usual spot.

“Well, well, well, there she is,” Flynn called as she saw you approaching.

You smiled at the girl and sat down, trying to keep your head down, hoping they wouldn’t take notice of your appearance, but to no avail.

“Babe,” Julie turned your face towards her, “what happened to you?”

Before you could answer you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning to see Dylan standing there, anxiously rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Um, can we talk?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking from your friends to you.

“There’s nothing to be said,” you whisper and turn away from him, but he just sat in the empty seat in front of you.

“You haven’t been answering my texts, just let me explain, please.” He was getting stressed, you weren’t giving in like you typically did.

“They won't go through, I blocked you,” you shrug, “and there's not much to explain, you lost me the second you decided to make out with Sara in the library, sure was a pity you got caught, wasn’t it?” You shot daggers with your eyes as you spoke, a slight gasp from Flynn came from your side.

Dylan felt the hostility from the band and shifted in his seat, why he was still here was beyond you, but the bell quickly ended the conversation.

You stood and tried to walk away, just for Dylan to catch your wrist and turn you towards him. Before he could get a single word out you felt yourself word vomiting.

“Why wasn’t I enough for you?” the question that had been ringing in your head since you caught him finally came out, a single tear running down your cheek.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, and you just nodded and pulled your wrist away from him, only a few steps away before Reggie had you pulled into his arms in a tight hug, soon joined by Alex and Luke, then the girls.

They pulled away and you wiped your tears, smiling at them.

“C’mon, we gotta get to class.” You muttered, Reggie slinging his arm around your shoulders, not an abnormal thing, but it was just what you needed in this moment.

Class was going by quickly, the rest of the band performing their pieces, Reggie just sitting down from singing HIWMHI.

“Alrighty, last, but certainly not least we have (Y/n),” She smiled at you and you stood, making your way to the piano in the corner, the band questioning this since they only thought you knew how to play the guitar, just wait until they hear you sing.

You clear your throat and start on the keys, taking a breath and letting the music take over.

“Met you in October

You talked sweet and a little slow.

And I thought, mmm

I think I, mmm”

It was obvious to almost everyone in the room that this song was about Dylan, what most of the room wasn’t aware of was that this was a break up song.

“Warm eyes and your hands cold

You sang soft like a sore throat

And I thought mmm

I think I mmm

Cause I know you're dangerous

I saw through your games and played them

And I hate myself for letting you in”

You look at Ms. Adamson before continuing to the chorus, he eyes already gleaming with pride that you chose to sing. You tried to send a mini apology for the curse word that was coming in the next part.

“Now I could write 10 songs 'bout 9 ways you fucked me over

Only took you 8 second to forget 7 months together

We were up till 6 in the morning

5 ways a week

You said 4ever then left before I counted to 3

Loved you a little 2 much but I was never

I was never the 1”

You took a deep breath and played the keys a bit before moving onto the next part of the song.

“You mеt me on a Friday

I dressed up likе a first date

So you'd think, "mmm

I think I mmmm"

And I knew we loved when

You stayed past 2 am

And I thought mmm

Does he think mmm”

You looked up and opened your eyes, making eye contact with your friends, Julie and Flynn having small tears in their eyes, knowing this song was written with fresh heartbreak.

The boys all had looks of shock written on their faces, this being the first time hearing you sing, and the emotion ripe in your voice just making it that much better.

Reggie had a hint of a smile on his face, pride radiating from him watching you blossom in front of him.

“And I knew you were dangerous

I saw through your games and played them

And I hate myself for letting you in”

You closed your eyes and launched into the chorus again, really letting the emotion carry you through the rest of the song.

“Now I could write 10 songs 'bout 9 ways you fucked me over

Only took you 8 seconds to forget 7 months together

We were up till 6 in the morning

5 ways a week

You said 4ever and left before I counted to 3

Loved you little 2 much but I was never

I was never the 1”

You took your hands from the keys and repeated the last line again, just your voice filling the crowded classroom.

“Loved you a little 2 much, but I was never, I was never the 1”

You held out the final “1” and then stepped back from the piano, applause breaking from across the classroom.

You shyly courtesy and quick step it back to your seat, your stage fright quickly returning.

“I would like to thank you all for your participation today, and another thanks for being vulnerable with everyone in the room. Everyone was absolutely amazing, I'll have grades up by Monday, have a good weekend!” Ms. Adamson dismissed the class and all your friends' eyes turned to you.

“WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL US YOU COULD SING?” Luke exclaimed with wide eyes and flailing hands.

You giggled a bit and shrugged your shoulders.

“Girl, that was so good, did you write it all last night?” Julie shook her head in amazement.

“Uh yeah, inspiration hit and I just wrote until it was finished.” You shrugged and wring your hands together, not wanting to focus on the moment that inspired it all.

“Um, are we going to the garage to hang? I can go get my things,” You tried to change the subject by standing and starting towards your locker, Reggie hot on your heels.

“(Y/n)! Wait up!” You stopped and waited for the boy to catch up, continuing as soon as he was by your side.

“You really have a great voice,” Reggie gushed as he looked down at you.

A blush crept on your face as you shook your head.

Reggie leaned against the neighboring lockers to yours as you gathered your things, looking up at him when you saw his muscles tense.

You then followed his gaze to see him looking at Dylan walking on the opposite side of the hall, arm slung around Sara, like he used to with you.

You returned your gaze back to your locker, a new rush of emotions flowing through you.

Reggie lightly rested a hand on your arm and pulled you into his chest much like he had a few hours prior.

“He’s an idiot for letting you get away,” He mumbled in your hair.

“No,” you pulled back slightly, “I’m the idiot who thought someone like him actually loved me.” You wiped a stray tear, Reggie then grabbing each of your hands in his own.

“Don’t you ever think like that, he was rude, careless and just plain stupid for not seeing what he had right in front of him.”

You look up at the boy in front of you.

“(Y/n), you are the most beautiful girl I know, inside and out. Your thoughtfulness for everyone around you is absolutely amazing, you care for so many people, you do so much, and don’t ask for anything in return. You are a whole package, and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind.” Reggie finished and wiped the tears that fell while he was talking.

You leaned back into his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso, feeling grounded, safe, in a way you never did with Dylan.

“Thank you,” you muttered, leaning back and feeling butterflies in your stomach, “Um, Reggie, I don’t want to start anything right now, I need some time to figure me out-” you started, but were interrupted by Reggie shushing you.

“Hey, don't stress about this, you take all the time you need, I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles down at you, you return it tenfold.

“Hey! (Y/n)! What would you think about a feature on our next song?” Luke comes running up beside you and Reggie, ending the moment that was occurring.

“Um, i’ll have to think about that a bit,” You smirked, Reggie grabbing your bag and placing it on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around you as the group walked out of the school.

“By the way,” Reggie whispers in your ear, “I’m loving the way my flannel looks on you.”

#reggie julie and the phantoms #reggie #reggie jatp #reggie jatp x reader #reggie x reader #reader x reggie jatp #reader x jatp reggie #jatp reggie x reader #reggie jatp imagine #reggie jatp oneshot #reggie jatp fanfic #jatp #jatp imagine

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spierfics · 6 years

Note

Can u do a fic where none of them r out yet but Bram asks Simon to go to prom with them and they say yes and then there is a kissing scene sry that this is so specific

Love is the Prize - Spierfeld Fic

Simon rustled uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a suitable spot while tightly packed between Leah and Abby. Their group, along with Bram and Garrett were having dinner at Waffle House before heading to prom.

The six of them had decided to do a group thing, given that all of them were miserably single. But that wasn’t exactly true.

Bram and Simon had been together for a few months, ever since Bram had told him he was Blue. This was a fact that only Garrett and Leah were aware of. Nobody else knew.

It was a mutual decision to keep it private and it had worked out pretty well for them. Simon knew the horrors that Ethan faced on a daily basis, and Bram was still figuring out how to tell the rest of his team.

Simon felt a small nudge on his ankle and looked up to see Bram giving him a soft smile that made his heart skip a beat. Perhaps they wouldn’t be able to have the idealized teen-movie prom night together, but Simon wouldn’t trade that smile for anything.

Bram checked the time on his phone, the time displayed as 8:28 p.m. He sighed, wondering what to expect from the night ahead of him. He’d never been to a school dance before, opting to stay home marathoning films rather than awkwardly slow-dance with a girl he knew he’d never want to kiss.

Even now, Bram wondered how Simon was feeling. Going to a party where everyone around him could openly be themselves, enjoy their time without a care and not give a second thought to who was watching. Bram knew it was unfair, and he also knew that he’d drive himself crazy wondering about all the injustice he and Simon had to face.

He sat back against the linoleum seat and sighed out loud, trying not to be too obvious and sneak a glance at Simon yet again. Bram couldn’t help himself though, Simon looked outrageously good in his suit and topped it off with an adorable bowtie.

Just thinking about Simon, and Bram could feel his expression soften and turn into a smile.

“Everything okay, Bram?” Nick asked, pulling Bram out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You had a goofy smile on your face,”

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just excited about tonight,” Bram said, trailing off near the end of his sentence.

“As you should be!” Garrett called out from the driver’s seat, winking at Bram through the rearview mirror.

Simon shuffled awkwardly near a corner of the gym, watching his friends attempt to dance in beat with the song the DJ had selected. He and Bram had taken part in a few of the group dances, but Simon noticed that Bram seemed a little off.

He wondered if Bram was feeling uncomfortable, even though Simon had made sure this was something they both wanted to do. After a few minutes, Simon decided not to wait any longer, he reached for his phone and opened the texts between him and Bram.

‘everything ok?’

He looked over and watched Bram take his phone out and Simon smiled at the involuntary squint Bram always did when he read something on his phone. He waited for Bram to type out his reply, hoping that tonight was going well, all things considered.

‘yes’

‘well, it could be better if I’m honest’

Simon glanced upwards, giving Bram a look which was a mixture of sadness and acceptance. He expected Bram to return with a similar expression, however, Bram seemed to be typing something on his phone.

Simon received another text from his boyfriend.

‘i have an idea. meet me at the entrance near the chemistry lab in ten minutes’

Simon didn’t even have time to process the text when he noticed Bram dash out of the gymnasium. He waited a few minutes, taking the time to tell Leah his plan, and ensuring that she’d cover for both of them.

Bram noticed Simon approaching from a distance, a curious smile on his face, wondering exactly what he was headed into.

“Hey,” Bram said quietly when Simon was close enough.

“You look incredible tonight,” Simon said, gently caressing the lapel of Bram’s suit. Bram couldn’t help it, he blushed in response, resisting the urge to kiss him then and there.

“So why are we out here in the decidedly creepiest section of the school?” Simon asked.

“Because this is the only room in the school to which Garrett has a key,”

“And why in the world would Garrett have a key to an obscure room?”

“Because he swiped it from Coach,” Bram explained. “And before you ask why he did so, let me show you the answer,”

Bram unlocked a room, and Simon tried his best not to gasp out loud. The desks had been moved aside to clear a space for a picnic blanket. Upon that blanket rested a basket and a Bluetooth speaker.

“I know it isn’t prom, and if you don’t like it we could always go back…” Bram started to explain, so Simon interrupted him.

“I am so in love with you,” Simon said with a bright smile.

That left Bram speechless. For a moment he didn’t know how to react, and eventually fumbled his way into the room, closing the door behind them.

Simon lay with his back against the wall, his head resting on Bram’s shoulder as they calmly swayed to the soft music playing in the background.

Simon thought back to when Bram had asked him to prom. It wasn’t a huge affair, and he’d done it in the rare moments they got alone. They were in the library, and Bram had reached forward and lightly brushed up his hand against Simon’s, a gesture which was almost never done on school grounds. He had nodded his head towards the non-fiction books, and when Simon followed him there Bram handed him a book.

Simon had been incredibly confused but noticed a bookmark near the end, and upon opening that page he saw a note asking him to prom. It was signed Love, Blue and Simon had almost teared up on the spot. Only he knew the strength it took not to jump into Bram’s arms and shout out his love to the world.

But this, sitting here together with the boy who held his heart, Simon wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He looked over to Bram, and from the distance, they heard loud cheering. Simon was certain they had just announced Prom King, and he couldn’t care less. They were lost in their own intimate occasion.

After a while, Simon and Bram packed up, knowing they’d been gone a good while. It would be suspicious, but neither one of them could find it in themselves to care. Just as they were about to exit the room, Simon paused.

“Everything okay?”

“Mhmm, but something’s missing,”

Bram frowned, looking around. “No, I think we got everything,”

Simon took that moment of distraction as leverage, reaching forward to pull Bram into a kiss. Bram dropped everything that he was holding, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and kissing him back. It was absolute perfection.

Simon couldn’t think of a better way prom could have ended, and at that moment he didn’t care who saw them. He knew he’d be able to face anything, as long as he had Bram by his side.

#love simon #love simon fanfic #love simon fanfiction #svthsa #svthsa fanfiction #svthsa fanfic #spierfeld #spierfeld fanfic #spierfeld fanfiction #simon x bram #epour0531 #simon spier #bram greenfeld

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domesticangel · 5 years

Note

2 4 8 13 14 18 22 29 33/34 36 37 40 41 44 48 55 69 76 80 82 94 95 98? Sorry if that's a lot sfhsghsh there were so many to choose from!! U can skip some if u want

SDFHSJKDL NAH DUDE UR SO FINE I APPRECIATE U GIVIN ME SO MANY TO ANSWER !!! 🤠🤙🏻 I’m gonna throw this under a cut just bc. I Talk A Lot

2. is your room messy or clean?

HHHHH i’d say its more on the messy side lmao like its not too awful bad but i am rly bad about having The Chair™ that i pile all my worldly possessions on

4. do you like your name? why?

ive honestly never rly liked it lmao emily was apparently like one of the most popular baby names for girls in ‘97 so from grade school through college ive always been one of like at least 2 or 3 emily’s in each class kjhkjhfkj thats why i mostly prefer to go by emmy

8. what kind of car do you drive? color?

i drive a 2002 ford taurus named tori and she’s my silver babby. she’s a very good car and i plaster her in as many bumper stickers as i can get my hands on

13. any siblings?

ye! one older brother. he’s like a cartoonishly stereotypical stoner but he’s chill so we get along

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

HMMM ive always thought colorado would be nice? i love mountains and i love cold weather and i feel like theres enough cities that id have an ok chance of getting a job in my field. somewhere in scandinavia might also be nice bc once again i like the cold and also ive heard their healthcare slaps

18. favorite tv show?

OOF idk if i could pick one fav but some I’m rly into and find myself rewatching a lot are scrubs, bojack horseman, its always sunny, archer, and dexter

22. do you go to the gym?

i do when I’m on campus just bc my school has a rly nice gym with a good running track but if I’m back home like over breaks and stuff ill just run outside. i sometimes go to the yoga/pilates classes my mom teachers at her local gym but thats about it

29. whats the worst thing you have ever done?

HHHHH well. the main thing that came to mind was 3 years ago when i was driving and took a turn too fast and accidentally crashed into the front of a lady’s car….obv i didn’t mean to do it but i definitely was being reckless thinking i could make the turn. i totaled her car (i was driving a mustang at the time and those mfers are built like tanks so only our fender got dented but her entire front end was crushed) but luckily everyone was physically ok. i def learned my lesson about being a dumbass and also don’t fuck w rwd cars anymore lmao…even to this day thinking about how badly i couldve hurt her makes me shudder and i haven’t been in a wreck since

33. favorite actor?

idk if i can pick a fav but dfhjshgkjsdf i rly like samuel l. jackson, jason bateman, and paul rudd

34. favorite actress?

HHHHHHH i love so many actresses it’d probably be impossible to narrow it down but ive been rewatching ahs coven recently and it reminded me how much i love angela bassett and jessica lange 😩❤️

36. favorite movie?

kjghdsgjsk IM SRY IM PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE OF NARROWING ANYTHING DOWN TO ONE BUT,,, some of my consistent all times favs are the kill bill movies and the kingsman movies

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

i dont tbh i did when i was a kid but i always abandon books halfway through whenever i try nowadays,, i think the last book i read was the kite runner and its definitely one of my favs. i also like p much all of toni morrison’s books but beloved was my fav of hers

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?

i think only twice??? once when i was RLY young for something i don’t even remember and again when i was still p young to get my tonsils out lmao

41. top 10 favorite songs

OOF ok favorites are so hard for me but some songs ive loved for a rly long time and always come back to are nightdrive with you (fear of tigers remix) by anoraak, countdown by beyonce, song of the sea by cake bake betty, surrender by cheap trick, bubbly by colbie caillat, ferrari by coyote kisses, that green gentleman by panic! at the disco, nightswimming by R.E.M., if it makes you happy by sheryl crow, and punk rock girl by the dead milkmen

44. what is your biggest fear?

JHDFKJLSHKJSGFK ok this is kinda morbid but like i have this specific fear of someone close to me dying and it depressing me so much that i like, am not able to finish school and pursue my career and i get like totally trapped as a result of grief that sustains itself by constantly reminding me that said dead person would be disappointed in me for quitting. Sweats Loudly

48. who is your role model?

prob my mom tbh which i know is. Cheesy but like. she’s been through so much shit and still came out the other end of it as this unconditionally compassionate and capable person and i just. thats what i wanna be

55. what is your dream job?

honestly this might sound sad but like? literally anything that doesn’t make me wanna die and pays well enough that i can pay my bills and have a little fun on the side?????? obv some kinda art career but as for what specifically I’m rly not picky tbh jfghjhf all i know is that id wanna work for a company as opposed to freelancing

69. do you play an instrument?

nope dkljhfsdjk im not musically talented in any way shape or form

76. what color looks best on you?

black or tie dye, no in between

80. what is your biggest pet peeve?

probably just like? super negative people. like people that go out of their way to find negativity and complain about other things or people and have no desire to look on the bright side or enjoy the little things. like chill dude. we’re all just here to have a good time

82. favorite ice cream flavor?

HMMM i rly love pecan praline ice cream !!!

94. favorite lyrics right now

i honestly rly like the chorus from help yourself by sad brad smith,, “I know you’ll help us when you’re feeling better, and we realize that it might not be for a long, long time, but we’re willing to wait on you, we believe in everything that you can do, if you could only lay down your mind”

it just. makes me Soft. it reminds me of the ppl in my life that believe in me unconditionally and are patient with me and how grateful i am to have them and all the people that i love and believe in too and. Yeah 😩❤️

95. summer or winter?

winter 100% i HATE heat and sweating plus like 90% of my wardrobe is cold weather clothes fdljhksjkdh

98. favorite month?

HMMM probably november? its usually like the transition from fall to winter so you get that really nice crisp fall weather that flows into the super cold hot cocoa weather that i loooooveee

#txt #abt

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fluidityandgiggles · 6 years

Text

Sleep Is For The Weak - Chapter 7

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 5, Last Chapter

Writing Masterlist - for previous chapters not otherwise linked, Read on AO3

Notes (I guess): I decided to post this earlier than usual, both in honor of fanfic writer appreciation day and because I finished writing this one yesterday, and I was going to schedule it, and just not worry about anything... and then there was a power shortage and as I’m was writing this, on Tuesday, I had to rely on my phone to provide me with wifi. God bless... (Well, I have wifi now, don’t I?)

I just thought that after all the angst of the last two chapters you’d appreciate a bit of sweetness, and where this chapter started almost as harshly as the last two, it’s just. So sweet. And fluffy. And I feel so happy that I managed to do such a thing. Well... that and prove to the world that I’m a massive nerd. (If you really want to know, some of Emile’s rants in this chapters are based on actual answers I gave in my finals. And those of you who know me well enough know that I studied theatre in high school...)

Thanks and credits go to @broadwaytheanimatedseries for the initial idea (and for being there to listen and talk about ideas with when we hang out, which happens a lot more lately actually), to @whatwashernameagain the absolute angel for Keep Him Safe and for being incredibly awesome (and for the German translation of one of my favorite quotes ever), to @anony-phangirl and @asleepybisexual for their usual contributions that shall never go un-thank-ed and uncredited, and a special one to @winglessnymph who is the person and inspiration behind a good chunk of Emile’s background and who, after showing them a screenshot of this chapter, just said “my old high school can burn, but yes at least Emile survived”.

Tag list (sort of): @bunny222, @ab-artist, @secretlyanxiouspersona, @your-username-is-unavailable, @virgilcrofters, @why-things-go-boom, @ilovemygaydad, @violetblossem

Trigger warning: period appropriate transphobia (the early 00s were not exactly trans-friendly). This chapter in particular also has mentions of alcohol and drug use.

—————

"But I want you to come!"

"Leah, sweetie, I can't come. I'm going to Emile's. But I'll see you sooner than you think, okay?"

"Okay… but it's not going to be fun. Rachel is two and she's boring and I don't like Mom."

Leah called every day after school. Remy could've been in a class, or at a group meeting, or taking a shower, and she would call every day after school. It was somewhat adorable.

But now was no time to deal with adorable.

"Emile, my darling, my precious, my sweet sweet love," Remy declared at the beginning of their morning sols 20 class last Monday, "can I come over for thanksgiving?"

"Didn't you say you have to see your mom?" Emile whispered over his cup of tea, struggling to get comfortable. The weather got extremely cold lately, and at thirty-six degrees at eight in the morning, not even the four layers and giant thermos full of tea could keep Emile warm enough to survive morning classes.

India literally asked him if he's not supposed to be used to such temperatures, which earned her a lecture on hypersensitivity and illness caused by stress.

"But it's Linda! Emile, babe, sweetheart, darling, dollface—"

"Don't call me bubbeleh and I'll consider it."

"It'll be worth it. I promise—"

"I need to ask my mom, and my sister is coming to pick me up because I'm kinda scared of flights, and Minnesota is kind of far away."

"Alright. I don't mind."

He really hoped Nathalie would agree.

"I don't want to be here alone," Leah half-whined.

"I know, babe, but it won't be long. Trust me."

He let her talk about school for a good while more, at least until he could hear Linda screaming at her to stop holding the line. It was horrifying. He didn't remember her doing it much.

Then again, she was barely home anyway.

The call disconnected rather quickly, right on time for his appointment at the psych clinic. The grad student who claimed Remy as his personal project was supervised today by the head of the department, as part of his research, which meant Remy had to be on his best behavior.

It also meant he'd get misgendered. Which was a thing said student, whose thesis was on gender dysphoria and gender identity (same subject as his big project for AP psychology back at Bronx Science, really), made sure to not do.

This was going to be fun.

——

"You went to the Bronx High School of Science, right?"

"Yeah? Gurl, why you asking me? I told you that already."

"A 4.0 GPA, went to a gifted program in Columbia—"

"Why are you asking me questions you already know the answer to?"

"Dr. Freeman wanted to hear those for himself," Remy heard the guy - Michael, his name is Michael, stop calling him "the guy" - mutter to himself as he typed away on his laptop.

"What makes you think that you're a boy, Miss Harris?" The doctor asked, pushing his glasses up. What a prick…

"Well, considering how I was quite literally diagnosed with gender identity disorder by a licensed psychiatrist, I don't think I am. I know I am."

"And yet, you've enrolled into Harvard under the name Rebecca. Is there any explanation as to why?" Freeman looked directly at Remy. "You're an intelligent young person, and enrolling under your preferred—"

"I didn't know I could do it, and now I have, like, no idea how to change it in administration."

"Biologically speaking, Mr. Harris, the concept of sex is very non-binary." The older man's gravelly voice seemed to chill even Michael, still taking notes. Suddenly he didn't seem so evil.

"First of all," Dr. Freeman said, "in sexual species, you can have female be XX and males just be X. For example, in insects. Female birds are ZW and males are ZZ, for reptiles it's temperature differences that female or male make. In some flatworms it's a penis fencing competition. Some fish like clownfish and parrotfish can have females become males because there are no males left, and the New Mexico whiptail lizards are a female-only species who reproduce asexually. Some species, like cuttlefish, have males act like females in order to get close to the females. And fungi have thousands of sexes. And that's not even getting close to humanity."

The doctor cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. "You can be male because you were born female but have a 5 alpha-reductase deficiency, and so you develop a penis in puberty. You can be female because you were born with XY chromosomes but you're insensitive to androgens, or because your Y is missing the SRY gene, both of which would result in developing a female figure. You can be male because you were born with two XX chromosomes but one of them does have the SRY gene. You can be male by having two X chromosomes and one Y, or a female by having only one X chromosome. And you can be male or female by being born in the wrong body for your brain.

"As I said, there is no such thing as two biological sexes only. So I'll ask you this again. Why would you enroll as a female named Rebecca if you know that you are neither?"

Remy had no idea how to respond. The professor looked at him, straight at him, and Michael kept typing away…

"...I told you, I had no idea I could do that."

"I'll write you a note to give to Vivian in administration. She'll take care of everything, you just need to provide her with a name."

"It's Remy—"

"I hope you understand that this isn't legal, it's only official. I don't have a doctorate in psychology just to explain what's the difference between the two to my students."

Remy nodded nervously, swallowing air. "Yes sir."

——

"Your suite is so much more comfortable than mine," Emile wiggled on the couch, petting his bunny, as Remy was making him a cup of tea. "You can… clearly see Leah was here."

"The marks on the wall? Yeah… she brought her scooter with her and wouldn't stop running into the wall with it."

Emile giggled - how much cuter could this boy get? - and scratched Mycroft's head a bit. "I asked my mom and, yeah, my grandparents and my uncle and his family are coming over, so it wouldn't be that much of an issue if you came over, but…"

"But?"

"We're having thanksgiving at my grandparents' on my dad's side. So it might be a bit of an issue. I'm sorry…"

"Don't be. It's okay, we didn't plan for this or whatever. I'll watch over Leah and you take care around your family, okay?"

"Okay. Have fun with her. She'll really need it."

"I know and I'm willing to suffer for that."

The kettle started whistling. Remy filled the mug with the boiling water and took it to Emile.

Just yesterday Emile screamed "I waited five minutes and the weather didn't change, get your shit together, Boston" at the sky when it started to snow. It wasn't even that much, Remy had seen bigger storms and he was sure that Emile did too - he was from Minnesota, after all - but it was still somewhat funny. After asking, Emile explained that in Minnesota, and basically all around the Midwest, "if you don't like the weather, just wait five minutes".

Remy didn't think he meant it literally. He probably didn't.

"How's India doing?"

"Midterms."

"Cool."

Emile was muttering something to himself in a language Remy didn't understand. He let Mycroft go and the bunny just sat there, on the couch, looking happy enough.

"Hey Remy, what's the Hebrew word for thanksgiving?"

"...I'm a Christian from New Jersey. Why are you asking me?"

"I don't… I don't know. My parents are expecting me to call my cousins before thanksgiving and they don't know English or Dutch yet… not that I know that much Dutch either, but… wait, you're from New Jersey? I thought you're from Manhattan."

"Only since I was five."

"Oh. Cool."

Remy moves the bunny and sat down next to Emile, who leaned against his side and put his head on his shoulder. His hair was incredibly soft, Remy was never quite able to stop running his fingers through it, and the whole situation just… made Remy feel like everything was going to be okay. Just… don't move from this spot, where the his adorable, tiny friend was cuddling up to him and muttering to himself in a different language, and everything will be alright.

His hair smelled like jasmine and seawater. And Remy was torn between admitting to himself just how much he liked it, and wondering if Chris would be jealous.

"You went on a date, right?" Emile raised his head, his hair tickling Remy. "I just…"

"Yeah, I did." And it was a bit better than Halloween. Chris was… way more interesting when not in parties, apparently. For one, he did not talk about his crush on Harrison Ford, and he did talk quite a bit but at least it was about law school and not Indiana Jones. It was… it was great.

"Huh… that's nice." And then, "a friend once asked me on a date. I had to say no."

"Why? Was something so wrong that—"

"No… I like that guy, but… he's the same guy who always paid me to bake weed brownies for him and his friends, and that's not very appropriate, right?"

He had to do a double take. "Weed brownies?!"

"Yeah… my school was the druggie school, you know?"

"No… I didn't know."

"Yeah… it's not like my parents couldn't afford to send me where my sister went, but they were worried about how the stress would affect me so I went to a public school. And… at least I only ever sneaked vodka in water bottles and baked weed brownies, I never, like… held someone's hair out of their face in the bathroom or had to keep someone from killing themselves, which now that I say it out loud just sounds so bad and I totally would've done it if I had to but—"

"Emile, babe, you're making me worry. Like, really."

"Sorry… I never ate weed brownies, though. I'm sensitive to weed."

This… this was the thing that baffled Remy about Emile. This… tiny, pure, angelic thing, with the soft hair that always smelled like jasmine and seawater and the bright, sparkling eyes. His soft little friend whose sunny disposition never faltered, not even in the darkest of times, and whose dedication and determination shone through everything he did.

Emile Picani, the sweetest human Remy ever met, was used to sneaking vodka into school and baking weed brownies.

Fuck.

"How do you even find out that you're sensitive to weed if you don't, like, smoke weed or whatever?"

"You have to decarboxylate the weed to activate it, which basically means heating it up, and the smell gives me migraines, so… that's how I found out."

Yeah, because that's so much better.

"But I mean, good riddance. Can we watch Mulan? I want to do something…"

"Aren't you reading that Sartre thing?"

"No Exit? I already finished it." Emile sipped on his tea. "I don't… get it? I can see why Estelle and Garcin will never achieve an epiphany, but Ines came in already aware that she's amoral… can't she just… leave Hell?"

Gilliam gave the class an optional assignment, to read and analyze No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre. It wasn't even going to go into their final grade, but he did say that it might be very important to the next semester when they study Freud ("and how he almost ruined the entire field of psychology, more or less"), so Remy chose to leave it for Christmas break. Or maybe not even read it.

"It's something like sixty pages, it's shorter than Hedda Gabler or The Cherry Orchard… it's an easy—"

"Question one, what the fuck is Hedda Gabler, and question two, what cherry orchard?"

Emile's eyes lit up and he almost jumped in his seat, spilling some of his tea on his lap and causing Mycroft to hop a bit farther. "Did you ever do theatre?"

And off on a rant he went, explaining every little nuance and allegory in both the plays ("so like, back in Ibsen's time, realistic theatre was meant to portray real life and keep the three unities, so Hedda shooting herself off-stage is meant to shock the audience as well as preserve the unity of place, which is pretty much…", "you know, the reason it's called Hedda Gabler despite Hedda being married to Jorgen Tesman is to show that Hedda sees herself as the daughter of General Gabler first and the wife of Jorgen Tesman second", "the cherry orchard is never really in scene ever, so it's kind of like a fantasy, or trying to hold onto a thing that isn't there anymore, like the Russian aristocrat's status, so when middle-class Lopakhin buys the orchard and orders to start cutting it before the others even left is like an even bigger sign that the aristocracy has fallen and there is no place left for it in the modern Russian society, in the face of the upcoming bourgeoisie and their budding materialism").

It was worse than Leah talking about betta fish. Well… no it wasn't, but he couldn't bring himself to shut Emile up… he was too cute to be told to shut up.

"So I just… I don't get it. Ines should be able to pick herself up and walk out the door, so why isn't she doing it?"

Emile was out of tea by the time Remy caught him looking at him with questioning eyes and realized he'd completely zoned out.

"Maybe… societal pressure?"

"Maybe… but it still makes no sense. She's in one room with two incredibly selfish people… can I boil some more water?" Remy nodded and Emile practically jumped out of his lap. The cold immediately hit Remy with a wave of disappointment. He wanted to hold Emile just a bit longer...

"Then again," Emile kept ranting, "this is the play that coined the term ‘Hell is other people'. L'enfer, c'est les autres. De hel zijn de anderen. Hagehenom hu hazulat."

"How many languages was that…?"

"Four." Remy choked. "I don't speak Dutch or Hebrew very well, I told you that. I only know the basics because of my family. But I do know this saying in five languages. I think... My oma and opa really like saying it. But I don't remember how to say it in German."

This boy was impossible.

"No, no, I do remember it. Die Hölle, das sind die anderen."

And Remy absolutely loved him. (A bushel and a peck.)

"And I only know how to say it in German because my neighbors are German. So like… I really only speak two languages."

"That's still way more than me, babe."

"Well, enough about me! I want to hear more about your date! How awesome was it?"

Oh, it was great. Chris didn't talk only about himself, he was actually interested in listening to Remy talk about his interests, they had a lovely dinner and went to see a slightly better than okay movie (he was not going to tell Emile that The Ring gave him nightmares for three days after watching it though), and he kissed him when they got back to Harvard. Nothing big, everything was nice, and they were going on a date again in early December. Nothing could be better.

Except the voice in his head, calling him a liar.

"That sounds very nice," Emile muttered as he plopped back down next to Remy and put his cup of tea on the table. "I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun. The Two Towers and Chicago are supposed to come out in December. And I promised my sister I'll go to see both of them with her."

A comfortable silence settled in. Remy tried to focus on anything but how nice it was to cuddle Emile, especially today that all his suitemates had other obligations. It was almost time to leave for thanksgiving - those who left for thanksgiving anyway - and… it meant he wouldn't see Emile for a week.

He didn't think he was a fan of the idea.

"Can we please watch Mulan? I haven't seen it in forever!"

Remy had to oblige.

——

"Hello?" The tiny voice that came through the phone made Remy so happy, and he had no idea why. "Who's that?"

"Leah, aren't you supposed to be doing your homework?"

"Remy oh oh oh Remy I have so many things to tell you so yesterday I went to the park and I found a shiny rock and—"

"Leah, I called to tell you and Linda that I'm coming over for thanksgiving." The high-pitched scream almost ruptured his eardrum. "But you have to be on your best behavior, okay? I know it's a very hard thing to do, babe, but it's for Linda."

"Okay! I can behave very good!"

"I know you can, sweets. I just need you to promise me that you will."

"I promise that I will! Pinky promise! When you get here it'll be a pinky promise, okay?"

All that was left was to hope that thanksgiving won't be such a disaster.

If it was, though, Remy would start considering smuggling Leah with him to Cambridge.

#kylo cant write #sanders sides #remy/sleep #emile picani #keep him safe #sleep is for the weak #the remy centric prequel #tw: period appropriate transphobia #tw: mentions of drug use #tw: mentions of alcohol

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lifeofalaurie · 6 years

Text

my uwc story

i remember reading through uwc blogs when i had just found out about uwc and when i was applying and going through all those months of WAITING for the next step...and they were so helpful. im so glad these exist

i first found out uwc through my brother’s friend, who actually went to UWC atlantic college (where im headed!!!!) a few years back. it was one ordinary saturday afternoon (idk if it was actually saturday but that sounds right) and we were carpooling with said friend (usually i dont participate in these but i happened to be in the car that day) and we were talking about next year and whatever and she just kinda said that she wasn’t going to be back next year bc she was going to this ‘abroad’ program. i didnt even really think about it that much. i in fact forgot about it after that...apparently my dad did not.

so my dad would talk about it here and there but i was NOT INTERESTED for that whole year..then...i started researching a bit myself and thought oh this sounds kind of cool. i still didn't really get what UWC even was or if was even a legit thing. it just sounded like another boarding school (a huge NO for me). then i saw that there was a such thing as a “short program” (or maybe someone actually told me about it) and i decided to apply for the one at the USA campus in New Mexico. i remember writing the essays over winter break and thinking they were pretty terrible (there was also a skype interview involved and that was rough) so i was pretty shocked when i found out i had gotten in but it worked out well bc my fam was going to arizona anyway a week before that so i just flew to new mexico myself after that (i say that casually but we had to cancel tickets and get new ones so that i could go to new mexico instead of home PLUS i had to fly for myself for the first time and i was pretty confused). (also, the program is called global leadership forum or GLF)

after hermit’s peak hike (ALL UPHILL FOR A SOLID 4-5 HOURS) i think it was like 8 miles IDK. view was so nice though 10/10

GLF turned out to be an amazing experience and really solidified my trust in UWC and confirmed to me that it was indeed a real thing. i really loved how much we did in those 2 and half weeks or so - camping, hiking, interacting w wolves, having important discussions - and it really pushed me to decide to apply to UWC for real. maybe ill talk more about it in another post!!!!

ok so coming home i did even more research and really really started liking UWC and decided that i might as well try to apply. i knew they never had a certain ‘criteria’ for students but i also knew it was a long and stressful process and involved really digging deep so i really didn’t think much of it (didn’t think i really had a chance) after submitting my written application. and then began the long waiting game...

here’s a nice picture of the sky @ a wolf reservation! just wanted to add a nice pic

i never joined any of those fb groups or college confidential things for applicants and good thing bc looking at some of them now stress me out so i wouldve probably been even more stressed if i had been involved in that. also i didnt even know they existed until later so thats also probably why.

anyway i had totally forgotten about UWC (more like i was sure they’d forgotten about me or there had been something wrong like my application wasn’t submitted or something) bc i didnt hear back until the end of november (i submitted the application early october). but finding out i was a semifinalist was kind of traumatic bc in my GLF snapchat group one of my friends (who’s going to Pearson this year!!!) said he’d moved on to the next stage and i hadn’t GOTTEN ANY EMAIL. i think i just accepted it that that was the end. but then a few hours passed when i finally decided to check a different email and, alas, there it was. so a few days later, i got an email from my interviewer when we should do our skype interview and it turned out to be the same day i was taking the ACT. good

the interview turned out to be completely ok and actually really great (enjoyable even!!?). if youre at that stage, seriously the best advice i have is to just chill and be honest when youre answering. also, make it more like a conversation rather than the interviewers (yes there are prob going to be more than 1 but i assure u its ok) asking u questions back and forth. think of it as a conversation- that helped me so much to relax. the interviewers just wants to talk to you and find out what kind of person you are and if youre the same one that wrote all those deep meaningful essays from the written application - so if you were honest from the start youll be completely fine...if not, well..sry

after that, school and extracurriculars and life really went up for me and i just forgot about UWC again. i never really told any of my friends about it or anyone except for my parents. i kind of wanted it to be a personal thing- get in or not in the end.

after a really good last day of school before winter break, i went to the town library (lol) and checked my phone and therE IT WAS. I WAS A FINALIST WHICH MEANT I WOULD BE GOING TO THE UWC USA CAMPUS FOR FINALIST WEEKEND. did not know what to expect

waiting for finalist weekend felt looooong

but it came

i flew there myself AND IT WASNT EVEN DIRECT and i remember feeling so independent and proud for making it. it turned out i was one of the later ones and in the last group to be bussed over (but i met a friend on the bus who i still talk to here and there who is going to RBC this yr!!). we were so late we missed the initial meeting and first night of activities and just went straight to the hotel. at the hotel i saw my interviewer and she gave me a hug (<3) and that helped calm me down and it was also really nice to see her in person bc i remember really liking her during our skype interview. then finalist weekend happened. and im pretty sure im not supposed to expose the process so all i can say was that it was actually so genuinely fun and a real good time

UWC USA <3

at the end we all exchanged social media and fb and all that and started a messenger group chat -- as nice as it was to be able to connect to everyone, i think it really stressed everyone out. they told us that results would come out early that week (FALSE). THAT WEEK AFTER FINALIST WEEKEND WAS THE MOST STRESSFUL THING EVER. IT TOOK YEARS FOR IT TO GO BY. i remember constantly checking my email between classes and everyone in the group chat wondering if anyone had heard. then on wed night, we all got an email that said the results would be notified by friday instead. the worst

i remember that friday evening i was packing for my first hackathon (it was fun) and thinking the call wouldnt come until later that night. people were freaking out all over the group chat. then, as i was scrambling packing my sweatpants into my bag, the home phone started ringing and i ran..RAN TO THE PHONE. it said my interviewer’s name on the caller ID and i was like OK THIS I S REAL. and i picked it up and it turned out i was too late so i frantically called back probably 10 times on multiple different phones (my efforts did not work). but then, i got a call to the home phone again and it was her so i picked up RIGHT AWAY and when she told me... i kid you not that i screamed and ran around my house a few times. so thats it. it was kind of a really long and sstressful process for sure, but SOO WORTH IT. i definitely learned a lot just from that process bc it makes you think and reflect a lot all throughout. weeee

if youre even thinking about applying please GO FOR IT (well as long as ur in the right age limit, 16-18.... and also make sure you’ve done some research to get a feel for it).. but just DO IT. and u can ask me questions if u want and ill answer to the best of my personal ability (but remember that im just one person and one experience and each person’s experience is completely different)

here is the general website btw:

https://www.uwc.org/

i will probably do another post to explain UWC - at least in my own words and perspective!

<3 <3 <3

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