#giggling like the joker rn

[k4marina]

bruce wayne x fem!reader || smau

pt. 2 of this :)

pt. 1

pt. 3

———

brucewayne

liked by yourusername and 21,304,272 others

brucewayne just going to leave this here

yourusername bruce- 😭😭😭😭

brucewayne what? 🤷‍♂️

user PLS WHAT IS THIS

user is that y/n’s face on his mug??? 😭😭

brucewayne custom made

user plsss 😭😭

user this man is WHIPPED

liked by yourusername and brucewayne

yourusername

liked by brucewayne and 20,364,208 others

yourusername ENGAGEMENT PARTYYYY 🥂🍾

tagged: brucewayne, racheldawes, & harveydent

racheldawes had such a blast you and bruce!!

harveydent thank you for gracing our engagement party with your presence 🙇‍♂️

yourusername ofc anything for the common people 💁‍♀️

brucewayne the prettiest 🤍

yourusername mwa 💋

user look at her dresssss 😍😍😍

user ikr 😭

user man i wish i was rich and had rich friends like y/n 😭😭

yourusername posted a story 42 minutes ago

user1 replied PLS DONT RELL ME WHAT I THINK THIS MEANS 🙏😭😭

user2 replied girl say sike rn 😨

user3 DID U AND BRUCE BRAKE UP?????

user4 nononononknono u can’t do this. u can’t post smt like this and expect us to be calm U NEED TO EXPLAIN 😭😭

yourusername

liked by racheldawes and 22,293,108 others

yourusername life as of late 🙃

user WTF DOES “🙃” MEAN ???? 😭😭

user guys bruce didn’t like this post 😀

user maybe he’s busy 😭😭😭 (i’m delulu)

user noooo they broke up 😭😭

user it’s not confirmed, they still follow each other and have each others photos up

user but they also haven’t confirmed that they’re still together 😭😭

user if u and bruce brake up i’m going to be the next joker 😐

user frr 😭😭

user if they brake up then loves not real

brucewayne

liked by racheldawes and 23,193,028 others

brucewayne only thing that matters

user NO NONONONK WHY DIDNT SHE LIKE THIS POST

user bruce how could u fumble y/n???? 😭😭

user no fr she’s smart AND hot?? homie had it all 😭😭

user pls say sike if this is a prank then it’s not funny anymore 😭

user guys i think it’s time we admit the fact they’re not together anymore 😔

user SHUTTHEFUCKUP 😭

user nope not going to boooooooo

user no we’re not (i’m delulu)

yourusername

liked by brucewayne and 22,282,018 others

yourusername this place is like 18193819203x bigger than my last place

user IS THAT WAYNE MANOR ⁉️

user 🔊BRUCE WAYNE HAA LIKED THIS POST I REPEAT BRUCE WAYNE HAS LIKED THIS POST🔊

user what does this mean??? 😵‍💫😵‍💫

user pls tell me you’re still together otherwise i’ll kms 😭😭😭😭

brucewayne

liked by yourusername and 23,139,730 others

brucewayne you guys really thought i’d let her go?

ps. it was her idea to be dramatic about her moving in

yourusername 🙈🙈

yourusername sryyyy just wanted to have some fun

user U HEARTLESS WOMEN 😭😭

user WAR IS OVER 🙏🙏

user pls don’t ever do that again, i almost had a heart attack 😭

user ya’ll know damn well that these two were giggling and kicking their feet while we were out here dying 💀💀

yourusername posted a story 1 hr ago.

[caption: my forever 🤍]

___

thinking abt writing another brucewayne x reader fic 🤔

[downforthegas]

Ok but like sometimes I think about how Wa//lly in the context of the show needs some things explained to him, sometimes even very basic things like laughing and feeling certain emotions... so I imagine he maybe needed to be explained what farts are... uh, I'm... (long post, I'm ashamed lol)

Like I imagine he's with Ba//rn//aby at How//dy's bodega, when How//dy hands him a chili dog and Ba//rn taking it (and being the little joker that he is) says, "How//dy, I appreciate the chili dog, but I'm blaming you for when I get gas later." And Wa//lly just goes, "Gas? But you're not a car." And then How//dy and Ba//rn have a good laugh.

I imagine they explain the process to him, how someone sometimes just needs to fart, but Wa//lly's still lost, even though How//dy feels like he explained it good enough. Ba//rn's already thinking of (explosive) examples he can give himself, especially after eating that chili dog.

But instead, Ho//wdy gives him a nice big can of beans, on the house. Wa//lly stares into the can and blinks, eating what would be considered big spoonfuls of beans telepathically with his eyes. By the end, he feels his belly. It's swollen and putting pressure on the buttons desperately holding his cardigan closed. His two hands feel his belly, it feels weird for his normally flat stomach to feel like a balloon. How//dy and Ba//rn are giggling a little, but notice Wa////lly's having trouble. He knows he has to push but nothing's happening. Ba//rn gently squeezes his sides, which results in Wa//lly's backside finally making noise.

A loud, strong toot, rumbling for 10 seconds, sounding the same throughout those seconds, ending with a loud pop, so loud you could swear Wa//lly made a hole in his pants. He sighs, feeling less pressure in his belly. Then he smells the air. A ripe fart stink permeates the once clear air in the shop, which How//dy and Ba//rn notice as well. "Jeez! How did somethin so small make somethin so smelly?" and now Wa//lly feels a little awkward that he ripped something that smells so terrible. But this awkwardness doesn't stay once it's How//dy's turn.

How//dy's stomach rumbles audibly and he leans over, rubbing his mid section with two hands, the other two holding the counter. Ba//rn asks him what's wrong, and How//dy just says, "You tell me? You thought it'd be a great idea to eat at that *uugh!* new place!" How//dy would be so used to eating leafy greens like any caterpillar that eating greasy unhealthy foods for once totally turns his stomach upside down. He tries not to but a loud, bubbly fart rumbles against his pants, blowing the strings on his apron. Squeezing his cheeks together doesn't help and only amplifies the sound. Clusters of louder short farts keep erupting as How//dy can't help but give up and relieve himself. When he's done, Ba//rn and Wa////y are laughing while teal blush forms on How//dy's face. "Well, I'm lucky no one else is in this shop. Otherwise, they would've been running."

Ba//rn comments saying, "Those are worse than your usual farts!" Which only makes How//dy blush more. "But that's nothing. Watch this." He leans against the counter, slightly lifting a let before a monsterous fart escapes. The whole counter, floor, and walls shake from his huge bassy fart. What's crazy is that it wasn't even from the chili dog.

Wa//lly holds his nose and How//dy holds his shirt over his nose, fans the air, and sprays with a room spray (which you can get for a good joke from How//dy's Place, the home of everything you need and everything you don't). Ba//rn//aby plays it off as if it's just a small toot, waving his backside with his hand, and his little tail, saying, "Whoo! I don't mean to toot my own horn but... well, I just did. Hehehehe!"

Wa//lly seems to understand now, but he's not a big fan of the combined smells from everyone. How//dy's about to say they should open the door to air the smell out, but then another neighbor walks in and immediately passes out from the smell.

[insomniac-astronomer]

Harley Quinn x Reader: Girls Wanna Have Fun

Someone explain why Birds of Prey is my comfort movie rn?

Description: Reader is at a Halloween party and is miserable. The city's crazy lady criminal takes an interest in her.

Gender: neutral. Slight lean toward fem but doesn't have to be.

WARNINGS: drunk!Harley, gun, drinking, idk like strongly BOP themed

You sit in a corner of this ridiculously crowded bar your friends dragged you to for a halloween party.

Your costume is a Flash t-shirt that you cut short to make it "sexy," as your friends asked you to do. So now you're uncomfortably holding your arms around your ridiculously overexposed stomach, crammed into the only free corner you found.

Everyone else had abandoned you to go hit on some guys. You decided to play it easy this evening, you're already a nervous wreck and talking to new people would probably make you combust.

"What're you doing in the cerner?" A very drunk voice interrupts your thoughts. "Cernor. Cornor. Corner. Yeah, that's the one."

You look up to see none other than Harley Quinn, a criminal. Oh this is just great. Still, despite the fact that she is a murderer (which is such a bad mindset to have), she doesn't kill innocent people. So you find her pretty.

She trips trying to sit in front of you on the floor. "Corner?"

"Oh, um," you look around to see if there's a way out of this. Physically, there is not. "I'm just chilling."

"Chillin'?" She laughs. "Why aren't you partying?"

You shrug.

"M'kay." She grabs your arm and without a warning, harshly pulls you to your feet. "I'm gonna dance with you."

It is a stumble to the dance floor where her grip on your arm never releases. She accidentally flings you into an embarrassing number of people.

If only you'd picked a different corner.

Suddenly, Harley whips you around, throwing her arms over your shoulders, literally falling into you. She violently starts swaying—more like launching herself—and you awkwardly try to figure out what to do with your hands.

Harley pulls you into a tight hug-ish thing, bringing your arms over her shoulders now. "You're rlly- rrrlley- rreaally pretty."

"Thanks," you can feel a blush heating up your cheeks.

"You like girls or just guys?"

For a moment, you have to process what she just asked. ". . . either, I guess."

"Mm, good. Caussse I like you." She puts her head on your shoulder. "You got a boyfrriend?"

"No," you almost giggle. "Thought you did."

"Nah," she stands herself upright (kinda). "I decided it was time to moooove on. Puddin's real sad though."

"Do you still love him?" You don't know why, but curiosity strikes in your mind. The power couple of the city broke up? If the Joker really is upset, that could mean a bad crime spell for civilians.

"No!" Harley shouts loudly, laughing when people give her mean looks. "I wanna date you. Whas your name again?"

She never asked for your name. "Y/N."

"Yeah, that's a nice name." She giggles. "You having fun?"

"Not really," you admit with a shrug.

"Lez go get pizza."

She doesn't give you a choice, dragging you out of the club and to the pizza place next door. You send your friends a quick text, not that they're concerned where you are anyway.

She is a strong but really clumsy drunk. That's a great combination right there.

"Do you like olives?" Harley asks as she pulls you up to the counter.

"Yeah," you fish around in your purse for your wallet.

"You actually like olives on pizza? No waaaaay!" She tries to jump but kind of just trips. "Can we getta olive pizza, like a small one?"

The cashier looks miserable while he takes down the order. You pull out your wallet.

"I got it." Harley pulls a gun from her waistband.

"Harley, no!" You pull the gun from her hand. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. Here's my credit card."

The cashier leans over the counter. "Are you safe?"

You laugh ironically. "Should be."

"Pizza's on me." They whisper. "If you're sure you're okay."

"I'm fine." You give them a smile.

They shrug, taking the order slip to the back and you lead Harley to the safety of a booth. She falls onto her seat.

"I like your costmume. No. Costuuuuume." Harley gives you a big smile.

"Oh," you compare your t-shirt to her grand, sparkly outfit. "Thanks. You look nice, too."

"Mm, I know." She closes her eyes as she smiles again.

"Here's your pizza." The cashier calls to you. You go grab the box and give him a huge, grateful smile.

You open the box and Harley squeals. You can't help but smile a little bit. No one else on Earth would be that happy over a pizza.

The pizza is oily and gross but Harley eats it like its a gourmet meal. You both eat in total silence, you're not sure why Harley is suddenly so calm. Well, calm for someone who fell in a vat of chemicals.

"Gimme your number." Harley pulls a marker from her pocket and offers you her arm. You hesitate for just a moment but then realize she's not going to care about marker on her arm.

She then stands up, having eaten her half the pizza.

"Mind if I take the leftovers?" Her voice is very slowly sounding a little less drunk.

"Oh, are you leaving?" You feel just a bit hurt but her sudden abandonment.

"I gotta go feed my hyena."

"Hyena?!" You actually yell, but she never turns around to explain.

Idk what that was. Anyway don't steal. Like & save for later. Happy fluff/spooktober day 2.

Buy me a coffee?

[gummybugg]

Imagine a bunch of your OCs going to the movies. What kind of movies would your different OCs end up watching? (Nothing specific, just genre/vibes.) Do they go to the same flick, watch different stuff? How do they behave once in their seats? Basically, I wanna know what going to the movies with your OCs would be like.

Hi hi hello!

I kept this ask for far too long and planned to write an Entire Scene out using the cast of Crater City, except it never came to fruition! But I can try to describe to the best of my ability what I had in mind, hehe!

...

For sure, Frasier would pay for everyone's tickets (except for Darcy because he's mean), and they would probably go watch the Lego Batman movie together because I said so.

Blair and Elijah would sit in the very back, top row. Blair would talk and giggle the whole time, making crude jokes or references while Elijah tries so hard not to laugh or encourage him, but he can't cant really help it. There's a 90% chance Blair winds up making coke shoot out of Elijah's nose after a batman x joker ship comment.

Darcy and Frasier would sit closer to the front/bottom row of the theater to get away from those idiots. Darcy is pissed Blair said something potentially spoiler-y before the movie started by Frasier is like, "Chill tf out, man, it's literally just a kid's movie." But Darcy wants his money's worth, goddammit.

Frasier is also busy trying to tell Blair and Elijah to stfu (via glares/hand motions) and to let them enjoy the movie and that they don't need security kicking them out of a flick again.

Meanwhile, Darcy has trouble with a teenager kicking his seat (totally not based on a true story). Frasier is like bro chill tf out, you're being louder than Blair and Elijah rn, stop fighting with a teenager. The teens just call Darcy old and that he looks like a poorly AI rendered image of Timothée Chalamet, which he takes offense to.

"Forty is not old, I'm not even close middle-aged yet!" Darcy is agitated.

"You have about 10 more years." The teen retorts.

"Oh, you wanna argue about the sudden spike in average human lifespan over the past fifty years? Because we can go there—"

"Darcy! Are you really arguing with a kid about your age in a movie theater? Stop being so immature." Frasier is so close to pulling the "idk who this man is but he's not mine" card but decides he's the only responsible adult here and can't back out.

Anyway, security has been called, and Darcy is definitely not having it. He wages a verbal battle with security, disturbing everyone else in the cinema, and embarrassing Elijah and Frasier in the process. He goes on about his hardships as mayor and having to deal with an impudent worm kicking his seat from behind (which security couldn't give 2 shits about). Darcy says something along the lines of "We paid for this movie and you'll have to fight my lawyers and I'm the mayor dammit," and so security backs off. Now everyone else in the Lego Batman movie theater is disgruntled at the disturbance. You can cut the tension with a super sharp knife.

Darcy turns to Blair and Elijah, who promptly stfu bc of his death glare. Frasier is concerned that Darcy raised more hell than it's worth all for a shitty movie, but tbh Darcy just likes to use his mayor card.

After the movie ends, they get up to leave, with all eyes on them until they make it to the parking lot. It also turns out that that thing Blair said off hand ended up being a spoiler, and Frasier almost beats the shit out of him, but this time Darcy is the one who has to hold him back. "It's ok, Frasier! We all saw it coming anyway!"

The teens who bullied Darcy come out of the theater to mock him again, but Fraiser flips them off, then security is called once again. And now all 4 of our characters are stuck at the police station with Darcy trying to bail them out, all the while Frasier glares at all three of them with disappointment. Blair is like, "This is definitely going on my 'pissed authority off' bingo board." Elijah rolls his eyes. At least they weren't in any mortal danger, he reasons.

...

🚗 Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (ask to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23

[carpe-diem-since-1899]

Trick or treat! 🦇

Hello hello so sorry for the late af reply (and other not replied asks, I promise I still remember them)

So!! We got these two big projects (?), The Angel and Fallen Angel Au™️ and The Joker and the King, an assassin/hitman au that I talked about forever ago. Both of them are still very much on the plotting/replotting stage ‘cause I have grown as a person/writer (also I’m just genuinely a slow writer/procrastinate a lot), and I am going to talk about their current state and some little headcanons I have for them! Keep in mind that some stuff are still super vague (yes I am aware it’s been years, I feel sad about that too) and I change my stuff all the time, and things might not aligne with my earlier posts. But yeah, here they are :)

The angel/fallen angel au

Currently state

This started off as, well, let’s call it a detour from another au, that is (You guessed it) In The Plotting Stage™️ and it has a magic/medieval/royal vibe, of which Race has a cool ability already, but I was like, hey, won’t it be cool if he also has wings

And to not Mary Sue-ify my favorite guy, I create another au, hence the angels/fallen angels au

Another thing is that I already got another au (The Joker and the King, aka TJTK) and that one focus on sprace, so this one is supposed to be about Javid, while Sprace being angsty in the background

The original plan was David trying to find a way to get back to Mayer’s boss who is neglecting worker’s right or smt

But it looks terrible and super boring after I plot it out twice, and just genuinely has quite a few plot holes since I’m shit with law stuff

I got a few options I’m playing with rn, but yeah this is what we got atm

It’s either gonna be a series with several stories from different characters’ povs and periods or it’s gonna be one long fic and with other additional stories

Headcanons/world building details

After actually reading (a tiny) part of the Bible, I have decided that this au has nothing to do with any angels or similar deities from any religion, the whole fallen angels thing is separate from again, any religion, and I’m gonna rework some background stuff to make it more clear about that. But yeah, just thought I’ll put it out here

I’ll put a post out after I fine tuned all the details

Both Jack and Race are fallen angels, Jack is older than Race and they’re friends

Jack got assigned to helping David dealing with Something, meanwhile Spot is already friend with David and got assigned to him as well

Race is aroace, and he and Spot were best friends/on their way to being in a qpr (but that label wasn’t a thing back then)

As previously mentioned by the posts under the au tag, they fell out of touch after Race’s fall, and they haven’t seen or heard from each other for centuries

So there are Dramas and I can’t wait to actually figure out the plot😭

The Joker and the King au

Current state

This started back in end of 2021/start of 2022 or smt, and I’m gonna be so honest with you, I have no idea why the fuck this drags on like this

It was darker and most of the characters are (or at least were) hitmen

Spot and David were part of this organization and they left and took some informations with them, so the boss is sending people after those two

The storyline I had didn’t make much sense and I toned it down because I feel bad for making them trying to off each other for money

But not I don’t feel bad about that anymore so I’m putting the slay and maim back into the plot

Headcanons/world building details

I’m just assigning motivation and sense of morals (?) for characters at the moment so there are not specific stuff I can give you

We got people that are raised in the business, do it for the money, forced into the deal, and I’m debating whether or not to add someone who do the contract killing thing for shits and giggles

Spot and David are no longer hitmen! But I say nothing about them being law abiding citizens

They pissed off the wrong people and Spot now have a target on his back

Again still trying to figure stuff out but that’s the gist

[wegonbealright-09]

I’ll look for some theories but is it okay if I also ask you your opinions on some moments and if you still see them the same way as before? Like the bon voyage season 4 “footsies” moment?

Hehehe anon

That one moment is one of those moments like the Rose bowl moment those are the moments that make me believe that there was once something there okay.

And jimin and his foot I remember this one time they were in idk a holiday or something it was one of those episodes where jk called himself Justin seagull and RM came up with that weird ass name everybody side eyed. And they were sitting in the table jimin one one side Tae and jk one the other and jimin was doing that footsie thing. I used to blush like literally throw my legs in the air giggle and all. You can judge me it's okay I even judge myself.

And that vlive in Osaka. Omg that was one of my top jikook moments I used to watch this one jikook chanel on YT I think is mizgator or something like that I'm not sure if it's really her but her theories would make me lose my absolute mind

Moments such as these still make me believe and it's the truth that there was once something going between the two. I don't view them any differently because even the blind can see that those used copulate and there's was once something going between the two. There was once in a time where they could barely keep their hands off each other. But looking at things now. It's like they're on the same book but different pages.

And that one footsie moment jokers were not reading much to it or making up things from someone who's non biased rn who's a non shipper something was up it was very suspicious still is.

[hope-drunk]

the way I'm going to tell you everyday that you writing about abby is healing the world I need to make you the happiest person ever hand in marriage when?

giggling and kicking my feet like literally. biggest smile on my face on public transportation i feel like the joker rn

[ultrabooob]

struggling rn !!!!

boo moment but i’m so full of love and appreciation and adoration for both my friends and the silly little people i stan but i feel stuck bc i’ve been w my family for a week and a half and yeah i’ve been in contact w friends online but i miss them all dearly i’m craving the presence of each and every one of them but as i type this rn i have no tangible place to put this love

and on top of that i’m also spiralling media wise obviously joker out is current no 1 thought topic and i’m brimming w admiration for them i’m so proud of how far they’ve come they’re constantly selling out shows and upgrading to bigger venues and like i said in another post they’ve cemented themselves as role models to me

idk i’ve been feeling #reflective recently bc it’s been a slow week and i’ve had the time to mull things over and the way i interact w media i enjoy don’t get me wrong and i wouldn’t change it for the world bc i’d be a husk of the person i really am but fuck me i can get so obsessive i start feeling like i’m decaying like every cell in my body is caving in yet i’m incapable of moving and i get so incredibly aware of the warmth in my ears bc i’m so struck w love and pride etc etc for whatever it is i’m thinking about like soemtimes it gets so bad i’ll be sick like it was so bad for me last year during alevels when the only thing on my mind was taika waititi and everything he’s crafted and i can sense whne people get tired of me talking about it :( but like it’s so important to me and i can’t keep it in idk idk idk

these things combined i feel like i’m fizzing and i have no proper outlet for it and idk i love wales and my family but i’m so excited to get home and see my cat and friends and have people to talk about things w and giggle and roll about

i also miss friends from uni and if i don’t go up during august i won’t see them until mid september :((

the only way i can describe the overall feeling is as blurry idk if that accurately conveys it to other people but like if i were to be imagined as a silhouette rn it wouldn’t be clean

[lilworms]

im entertained

[davidtennantpussytulpa]

i want him sooooooo so bad so bad its embarrassingggggg

[aro-aizawa]

mass effect brain rot has me again and i can’t help but notice the normandy has a distinct lack of bedrooms (aside from shepard’s & miranda’s/liara’s) which amuses me greatly bc now i can’t stop thinking abt all the crew (specifically in me2) in one barracks all getting under each other’s skin. everyone hating the krogans snoring. everyone hating mordin sleeping at the same time, so they kick him out permanently because he won’t shut up. jack just sleeps on her basement table otherwise she will straight up murder someone no matter what. whoever shepard romances is envied by the rest of the crew almost exclusively because they have their own space they don’t have to share w almost a dozen ppl.

[ghostofadragon]

i cannot describe how much i need post-batman begins nolanverse batman and scarecrow to be. like. not friends by any stretch of the word but you have to understand that batman puts up with SUCH bullshit on a regular basis like this man gets done disarming the pipe bomb that joker put in the mayors office for shits and giggles and goes home and takes an off-day hearing that his old buddy jonathan crane is selling spiked ketamine on 23rd street wearing that weird fucking mask again would be Nothing to this man. its like a walk in the park for him. bruce wayne went to medical school he probably knew this guy in college before he dropped out and hes so tired. & scarecrow figured out that batman won't kill him and he can bribe his way out of jail with his remaining mob ties so he just does whatever the fuck he wants batman is significantly less of a threat to him than like half of his past customers at any given time and he can't ever take him fully seriously because 1. the guy dresses like a fucking bat 2. hard to put intimidation stock in a guy who you lit on fire the first time you met and he ran away from you screaming. batman and scarecrow are like mutually each other's least bad problem at any given time. like neither of them want to be here but honestly thank god its him and not any of those 20 other guys lined up to put me in the ground rn

[spacedykez]

villain branzy :eyes:....... can you tell us some more about him :o ?

absolutely. i love him so much.

Branzy's moniker/villain name is The Joker (Clown is The Jester, and he's the top hero. that's right ENEMIES TO LOVERS-).

His power is illusions, which means he can imitate things, and trick people into seeing what isn't there!

Branzy can imitate sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell, and he could theoretically make incredibly realistic illusions, but it would take a lot of energy and he couldn't maintain it for long, so he usually sticks to one (maybe two) senses.

And with the hearts system, the less hearts Branzy's at the less senses he can copy at a time and the less time he can maintain illusions for. And vice versa! The more hearts he has, the more senses he can copy and the more time he can maintain illusions.

Snippet for u <3

Some said he was a ventriloquist, luring his victims to their deaths with calls from their loved ones. Some claimed he could teleport, lurking in the shadows only to appear in front of you and kill you without warning. Others yet claimed he had a silver tongue, one that slithered its way into your mind like a siren song and convinced you to do as the Joker pleased.

isn't he fun? i love him. illusion powers are so underrated btw.

Villain!Branzy is the entire reason I want to write a Lifesteal superhero au, because THE POTENTIAL HERE. the guy is a schemer and a trapper and he's SUCH a great villain. I LOVE HIM.

i wish i could say more about him but brain is literally just "!!!!!!" (you get me)

i haven't actually managed to get that much writing done at ALL today :( but take another snippet

“We’re awfully close now, Jester,” Joker giggled, tracing a gloved hand over Clown’s face. He could hear his own breaths matching time with Joker’s, their faces uncomfortably near. “Do you like this?” Clown shuddered at the touch and shoved Joker away from him roughly. “Not playing your games, Joker.” “Awh, but you’re such a fun toy.” Clown could practically hear Joker smirking behind his purple mask as he paced around Clown, looking for an opening (one Clown certainly wasn’t giving him). “Am I?” Clown replied, watching smugly as Joker faltered in his pace. Perfect.

I LOVE THEM. AND HATE THEM. IT'S GREAT. HOMOERETIC FIGHT SCENE. BRAIN IS THEM RIGHT NOW. HOLD ON ONE SEC

^^ ME RN ty for the ask jukeeee

[fnf-amateur-writing]

Hey! It’s Fox again! How are you doing? I just started school back up today, so I’ve been busy Xp.

Think you would be cool with writing some Pico with an s/o who is a writer, and tends to ask him about things like “hey, how long does it take someone to bleed out” or other things like that?

I understand if you don’t feel like it, and I hope you’re having fun 😊

🦊

Hello again Fox, I'm doing quite well rn. I'm cool with your prompt, especially since I need more writing material anyways.

Took me a while, because I didn't want to do a hc, but rather come up with a oneshot with a little twist to the style. Well, hope it works well.

Good luck with school, mate!

TW: Mentions of violence, swearing, slight sexual reference, and crime.

Pico with a writer S/O who asks him strange questions

Prologue:

On a chilly autumn morning, you were sitting out on your patio with a laptop and a mug of your favourite beverage next to you. Whenever you looked up, you could see the warm coloured leaves fall as the breeze accompanied you. The whole scene was an aesthetic.

When your boyfriend, Pico, came outside to see this, he knew that the nice environment you surrounded yourself with meant one thing. "You're back in your writing space already. Heh, with that bestseller you published, I thought you were comfy taking a break." You simply smiled and said, "can't waste the inspiration rush I got right now."

Pico had a good point though, with your rising popularity as an author, you were near set to retire before turning fourty. But you wish you weren't given all of the credit, since your boyfriend's stories of his dodgy job has occasionally sparked some ideas for your stories. However the books you wrote in the past were usually meant for the young adult and had few mature themes. This time, you thought maybe it's time to garner extra inspiration from those stories.

You were met with some disappointment when you realised that your mug was empty, only a drop entering your mouth. "Here, babe, I'll ya some more," Pico said, taking your mug and walking inside. "Quick question," you stopped him. "Yeah?"

"What would be the best place for a murder cemetery?"

"... What?"

Chapter 1:

"So you're doing some story about the police hunting down a mass murderer?"

"Pretty much."

"And to think you were gonna write Pixar's next script. Aight' I respect that." Pico takes a seat next to you with a refill of your drink placed next to your favourite writing laptop. "Thanks, Pico. But yeah, I want to branch out to something edgier, and I think you can help too."

"Let me show you what I've got so far." You showed him some of your notes in a little notepad document, detailing the story thus far and your current plans for this chapter. "Oh, that's it? Just looks like boring police preparation mainly," Pico commented. "Yeah, it's not much right now. But it'll get juicy later." "And bloody?" "And bloody."

"Welp, I'm gonna head back in," Pico got up, "let me know if you need anything." He head back inside, closing the door, but then opened it almost immediately afterwards. Pico stuck his head out, "by the way, the guy should use some strong alcohol or something to throw off those sniffer dogs."

Chapter 2:

"And then, because they used a silencer, the police don't immediately notice the--"

"Nope! I'm calling bullshit (Y/N)!" Pico had suddenly interrupted your explanation of the scene you were currently working on. "Silencers can help prevent some hearing loss, sure, but they're not magic."

"Alright," you reply, "no silencer, but the killer still has to kill in a way to not get blood on them, so I thought shooting and killing them from a distance would work." "Well, they're alone. Instead, have the guy get shanked in the neck or something, and have the killer use a plastic bag as a glove. It saved my ass one time."

"Woah!" you exclaimed with a giggle, "you used a knife once? What happened to my trigger happy boyfriend, huh? That's pretty sus."

"I forgot to reload the Uzis, alright?"

"What an impostor would say."

Chapter 3:

"What would be the best way to muffle the scream of someone you kidnapped?"

You two were sitting on the couch together watching a show. You didn't have your laptop on you, so Pico didn't expect you to still be thinking about that book. "I can't say from experience, really," he said as he paused the show. "However, shove a rag in their mouth and duct tape it in, and you should be good."

"Thanks Pico, also one more thing." "Yeah?" "What if our killer also wanted to..." God, this one was gonna be awkward, but you had to say it or else no help. "You know, cut off this victim's willy. How would you do that?"

"Wai-wha-uh-ga," Pico started fumbling his words like never before. He stopped, then took a deep breath. "YO, WHAT THE FUCK?!" "It'll make sense in the story later, I promise!" You watch Pico begin to lose it, breaking into laughter. "Ladies, gentlemen, and others," Pico dramatically stood up, pulling a little Showcaster impression and directing his arms towards you, "my famous 'young' adult novelist partner!"

Chapter 4:

It was in the dead of night, but you awoke to Pico on his phone. His vpn was on and Tor was up. As per usual, he was checking up on his little hitman service, where others could request for a certain someone's guts to fly if they paid him a hefty sum first. Though tired, you ound this to be the best time to ask him some more questions.

"Pico, how do those sites work?"

"Oh, you're awake," Pico blankly stated, sleepy too. But he still answered you. "Basically, some anonymous rich guys in the area give me money and a target, then I just do the thing and send a mission accomplished email." "Do they pay you in person?" "Nah, we use always use Bitcoin. It's a lot harder to trace than real money."

"Thanks Pico. Goodnight," you wish him, yawning and going back to sleep. "You too... So this guy is a hit man too?" "Hush. Tomorrow." "Okay." Pico puts his phone away, leaving it on a nightstand. You then spoon the night away, peacefully thinking of murder as you drifted off.

Chapter 5:

On a morning similar to before, you two sat on the patio with your drinks and laptop at the ready. Pico watched rather awkwardly as you typed away, wondering why you haven't entertained him with another question yet.

"You gonna ask anything else?" "What? Oh, nah," you plainly state. Inevitable, sure, but he was kind of saddened. He liked being able to share his messed up wisdom. "So, you're done?" "Almost." You turn to look at him, "want the spoilers?" Pico smiled, "sure thing."

In the novella you and Pico crafted together, the main character is a cop who hunts down a killer. They eventually notice that there would be two murders at a time for unknown reasons. Well, it was unknown until one victim had left up a dark web hit man for hire site. They that the hit man not only kills the target, but the client as a hidden price for the service.

And any request will be fulfilled, according to the hit man's site.

"Do they catch 'em?" Pico asked. "Well, ANY request is granted. So, if our hero were to... hire him to kill himself..."

"No way!"

"He did. They find both of their bodies in his bedroom."

Pico was a bit impressed with the ending you came up with, but then he remembered something. "Why did that guy get his thing cut off?" "Lol, I forgot," you giggled. "He sent a message to the hit man, saying he wishes the target would choke on his dick."

"That's my favourite part."

Epilogue:

After everything was finished up, you sent the book off to your editor. After the initial joy of knowing how the story ended, you saw that Pico was still in thought. "What's up with you?" "Oh nothing, well it's just... I'm probably just biased, being that I'm a bit of a hitman myself, but it's kind of sad to see the guy go."

"Then I should spoil the epilogue I came up with." Rather than being excited, Pico nervously asked, "what's an epilogue?" He didn't get an answer, only you staring at him. "Sorry, school held too many bad memories for me to pay attention."

"Anyways," you continue, "the rest of the police gang did some background checks, and find that our killer was a normal guy with no criminal history."

"Penilian?"

"No. But I did decide to take a more supernatural approach here. Somewhere across the country, another string of double homicides occur and that site is active once more. And the story kind of repeats itself."

"Penilian."

"You joker," you give him a playful little kiss on the cheek, one that definitely caught him off guard. "So is it canon?" Pico smirked. "Nah, just thanking you for being my cute little co-author." "Oh," Pico started, "so we're flirtin' now, huh. Come here babe!" He tackled you onto the ground, giving you several kisses in exchange.

"Actually, I think we call that 'making out'," you chuckle out, flustered. "But that doesn't mean I said stop'!" You pull him in for more, accidentally bonking your heads together rather painfully. "Nice double kill there, (Y/N)."

[ickle-ronniekins]

chemical reaction

request from nonnie! “hiiiii! love ur writing sm ! could I request a fic with George maybe like an enemies to lovers kind of thing? or maybe like she’d hated him and he’d actually fancied her the entire time or something? thank you!!”

pairing: george x fem!reader (no specific house)

word count: 5.7k whoops sorry

A/N: i LOVED this request; i don’t think i'd ever really written an enemies to lovers fic before.. maybe once, so i adored this. wish this could be me and him rn tbh. also, had to put a hand through the hair in there ~shoutout to my gals~ anyway, please leave feedback, comments, reblog, share with your friends if you wish, thanks!

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu | message me to be added, loves!

There was no denying the indisputable chemistry between you both. Everyone could see it. It was pretty difficult to miss, actually, especially when the two of you spent nearly every single lesson at one another’s throats.

“I’m warning you, Weasley -- stay as far away from me as you possibly can. I don’t want you and your misplaced priorities anywhere near me.”

“Wow, it is a pleasure to be insulted by you. Really.”

It all started in your third year. The very misguided and frivolous George Weasley and his brother, Fred, had decided to be prats in your Potions lesson. You’d never really had any interaction with them before that; you were their absolute and complete opposite. You’d preferred to spend most nights borrowing any and all books from the library and reading through them as quickly as you could, or spending your afternoons with the Dueling Club to further your studies with spells, charms, and incantations; whereas the two of them were always setting off fireworks in the Astronomy tower, or whatever the bloody hell two thirteen-year-old pranksters did.

Potions had been normal that day -- Snape had his usual displeased scowl painted on his face, and you were continually checking the clock and counting down the seconds until you could leave and speed off toward your History of Magic lesson. That is, until George had purposefully put the wrong ingredient into his cauldron, causing a spark, resulting in an explosion quite larger than they’d presumed and a ghastly horrible sight: one of your eyebrows burning off completely.

You’d been outraged; while the majority of the class had been too startled and shocked to let a laugh escape their lips, the twins had absolutely no issue erupting into a fit of obnoxious giggles, obviously incredibly pleased at their error. Snape had even cracked somewhat of a grin (if you could consider the edge of his lip slightly curling upward in a sort of mock expression a grin), but he still threw all three of you into detention. You! In detention! For getting your bloody eyebrow burnt off by a juvenile boy!

You and George hadn’t been the fondest of one another since.

In an attempt to separate yourself from him, you’d completely changed course -- McGonagall had been able to help you switch out some of your lessons for others. You didn't really want to take Divination, but if it meant being away from him for an hour and a half of your day, then so be it. You were going to have to be okay with your choices.

Until you heard the sardonic, cool wash of his voice from behind you.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

He sluggishly fell into the seat next to you; (of course, it being the only open spot left as he’d arrived precisely two minutes after the bell signaling the start of the lesson) he propped his feet up on the table in between you both. With your mouth still agape and brows threaded together, you angrily shoved his feet off of the table and slammed your spellbook down in place of them. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be right now? Like setting fire to a third year’s eyebrows? Or detention, perhaps?”

He scoffed airily. “Oh, hilarious, darling -- really; right fantastic joker, you are. No, you see, contrary to popular belief, I don’t spend every waking hour cleaning out cauldrons, or --”

You cut him off, “Oh, and here I was thinking that you’d make a perfectly adequate cauldron cleaner if a full time opportunity were to present itself.”

He didn’t skip a beat. “-- or setting fire to third year’s eyebrows.”

“No?”

“No,” he replied throatily. And then, that all too familiar smirk of his. “Only to those who deserve it.”

You were about to snap back with some snarky retort, but thankfully Trelawney’s very soft-spoken voice floated through the room and managed to calm you down a bit. It didn’t stop you from sneering at George completely though, as he relaxed back into his chair and grinned to himself like an idiot.

You yanked your spellbook off of the table and turned to the desired page; you didn’t really fancy the idea of doing more research on crystal gazing, palmistry, ornithomancy, and tessomancy, but seeing as N.E.W.Ts were coming up, it only made sense that Professor Trelawney would make you revisit these desired areas of study.

“Gaze into the beyond!” she cried, “and tell your partner what you see!”

George very obviously rolled his eyes as you peered closely into the crystal ball. You couldn’t see anything except smoke, and so you furrowed your brows even more, as if to will yourself to concentrate. It was no use. You hated this subject; you’d only taken it to get away from him, anyway! He scoffed at the sight of you concentrating fiercely. “And what is it,” he asked you in an uncanny expression of your professor, “that you see?”

You shot him a glance and backed away from the crystal ball, scribbling something down on your parchment, and then turning your attention back toward him. “I see myself trying to lower my blood pressure and focus on my work,” you said cheerily, “because the idiot sat across from me is being an even bigger git than normal.”

“Wow,” he replied, his voice fierce with mock surprise. He widened his eyes and nodded his head fervently. “You’re really rubbish at this, aren’t you?”

His quips made your blood boil.

It felt as if it were hours before the lesson had ended; when the bell rang mercifully, you packed up your things in a rush and nearly sprinted out of the classroom, without a last glance or a word to George. This was going to be a long bloody year.

-- -

“So what’ve you been learning in Divination, Georgie?”

You groaned and placed your head directly on top of your parchment. Why is it that they always seem to end up where you are? This was the library, they had absolutely no business being here. This was your turf, and it always had been.

“Little of this, little of that,” George replied to his brother, his voice merry. “Been revisiting some old tasks to prep for N.E.W.Ts. Oh, that reminds me -- I was crystal gazing the other day.”

“Yeah?” Fred’s voice heightened. You could hear the smirk and the eyebrow raise. “And what did you see?”

“Well, it was kind of difficult to tell,” George said, “my huffy, stuffy partner kept distracting me with her bloody obnoxious sighs every single time I so much as blinked in her direction.”

You slammed shut the very large book you were reading as the twins and their friends erupted into laughter, swiveled your way through students, and returned the book to its proper place on the shelf. To your delight, Madam Pince was not too keen on noise in the library, and immediately began scolding them. This didn’t stop George from sending you a wink and a shake of the head before you vanished in the corridor. Merlin, he was going to drive you bloody mad.

-- -

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Had your friends gone absolutely bonkers? He fancies you. You couldn’t seem to shake the phrase from your head no matter how hard you tried -- it was that outrageous and that hilarious.

There was no way that George Weasley fancied you -- for one, the two of you could not be more different. Secondly, if he really did, and he was still busy treating you like he loathed you, then that could mean only one thing: that he had the personality of a five-year-old. Yes, like that of a five-year-old boy chasing and pushing and teasing a five-year-old girl on the playground at primary school. And then, you figured, he was just as immature as he seemed.

“Perhaps you could make it a less.. hostile environment,” your mate told you one afternoon over lunch. “Clear the air a bit.”

“There’s nothing to clear,” you told her gruffly, picking at your sandwich. “He’s a git -- always has been, always will be.”

She began to laugh. “But you don’t really know that, do you? I mean, yeah, sure, he was a right prat during third year, but you’ve bloody hated the guy since then for laughing. Laughing. It’s not like he did it on purpose, you know. It was a mistake.”

You turned toward her in surprise. “A mistake that caused my bloody eyebrow to burn off!”

“And look,” she replied cheerily, “it’s grown back!” You groaned; why was she doing this? Make it a less hostile environment. The only way that could happen is if you and George were miles, if not worlds, apart.

“Maybe try.. having a conversation, yeah? You may have something in common,” she continued on, noisily slurping the rest of her pumpkin juice. “I’m just saying; you don’t have to love the bloke, but you don’t have to hate him, either. Make this atrocious Divination lesson less dreadful for you both by just being civil.” She slung her bag across her shoulder and tapped you on the shoulder. “Have got Charms -- just think about it, okay? See you,”

Civil. You supposed, as you took a very deep sigh and finished off the rest of your drink, that you could attempt to do that. Just then, a very loud bit of raucous laughter echoed across the Great Hall, coming from none other than the Gryffindor table, where George and Fred were no doubt showcasing one of their products for their shop they were so confident they’d be able to open and run. The commotion from the table only seemed to increase, and you took yet another very deep, gruff sigh. Civil. You could try. But Merlin, you’d have to try really very bloody hard.

-- -

When George sat down across from you a few days later, you’d been back and forth between the idea of being courteous and being rude more times than you could count on two hands. And luckily for him, you’d just flopped back to the idea of politeness.

You stuck out a hand and he looked at you quizzically. “Merlin -- have the fumes in here gone to your head or something? We’ve known one another for years.”

Civility, you thought. You stood your ground. “Can we just.. I dunno, start over? This lesson is already terrible enough without us nearly killing one another. I, for one, don’t want to dread this any more than I already do. So what do you say?”

You couldn’t tell right away if the arch of his eyebrows meant he was genuinely considering this or if he was fighting back a very haughty laugh so as not to spark an argument. But then, surprisingly, incredibly, he took his hand in yours and shook it firmly. “Alright then, Y/N,” he said professionally, “I suppose I can do that. But no bashing my methods of study,”

“No burning off my eyebrows,” you retorted.

“No worries there,” he replied, sneaking a small smirk at you as he opened his spellbook, “nothing to blow up in here.”

For the first time in nearly four years, the two of you had made it throughout an entire lesson without yelling at one another. It was both surprising and refreshing. And although you both continued to make small digs at one another, and he certainly continued to test your patience, you realized that maybe your mate was right.

It turns out you did have some things in common, actually.

“Why the bloody hell haven’t you tried out for Quidditch then?”

George was still beaming over your story of how you’d miraculously caught a Snitch at the very young age of seven in your backyard with your siblings. You’re not exactly sure when Quidditch had come up in the conversation, but somehow it did, and the two of you were now packing up to head to your next lessons.

“I dunno,” you replied truthfully, “it was never really my thing. I much rather prefer dueling than playing Quidditch.”

“Word of advice,” he said, shoving his Divination spellbook back into his bag, “never tell your housemates that you’re a Quidditch wizard. They will kill you dead you for not going out for the team.”

Just then, Professor Trelawney came scurrying over to you both -- her eyes wide and hair a tousled mess. “Mr. Weasley!” she cried excitedly, pointing down at the crystal ball, “what have you seen today?”

He looked at the professor, the ball, and then at you, a simple smile on his lips, sort of a half-smirk half-genuine sort of look. “Friendship,” he said simply.

Dumbfounded, Professor Trelawney began nodding fervently to herself and mumbling things neither of you could understand -- utter nonsense, really, and moved onto the next pair of students before they could leave. You folded your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow. “Friendship, hm?”

George shrugged and placed his hands inside his pockets before starting toward the door. “And to think,” he said, “all you had to do was not loathe me so much.”

“It’s harder than it seems, George.”

“That’s mean,” he teased, bringing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. Then, genuinely, “we’re kind of best mates now, aren’t we?”

You choked back a laugh and held up a finger to him. “Erm, easy there -- wouldn’t go that far.”

He shook his head and began tuttering. “Dear, dear Y/N.. rubbish at both Divination and at lying.”

You threw a cushion from one of the chairs straight at his head before you both headed off in your respective directions. Best mates. Merlin. It was one lesson you’d both sort of gotten along in. He certainly was exaggerating a bit, wasn’t he? Even so, you couldn’t help the very small grin that spread itself across your face as you walked merrily toward Defense Against the Dark Arts.

--

You were having a particularly rough day.

You’d started the day off by waking up behind schedule, rushing through breakfast, and running in late to your morning lesson. You’d managed to completely bungle whatever nonsense Snape was having you concoct in Potions, losing a generous amount of points from your house. You’d slipped down the steps and given yourself a nasty bruise on your arm, and you were pretty sure that you were getting a cold -- and right before the winter holidays, at that.

So when you sluggishly made your way into Divination and George immediately began to tease you, you were not having it.

“Uh ohhhh,” he said in a sing-song sort of voice, “someone having a bad day?”

You knew he probably meant it as a joke and nothing more, but you were too pissed off to care. Was it the glassiness in your eyes? Your red nose? Your disheveled hair, or the fact that you’d hardly found the energy to straighten your tie? You growled, “I am not in the mood, George.”

“Blimey, alright, I was just --”

“I know what you were doing,” you scowled after a sneeze, “and I’d really just like to get through this lesson in one piece, if you don’t mind.” He put up his hands in surrender and sealed his lips shut. You sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling the greatest today -- d’you mind if we just focus on the work?”

Today you were focusing your studies on palmistry. Not your favorite. It was an incredibly long, mundane lesson.

Later on, George asked you, “D’you want me to ask Trelawney if we can finish up early since you’re feeling ill?”

“Please.”

You closed your eyes for the few seconds George was gone; when he returned, he sat back down in his seat with a rather confused look etched on his face. “She, erm, told me no can do. I’ll just have to really.. ‘cleans my aura’ after this.” He used air quotes and actually had to hold back a bit of laughter. “It’s fine, I reckon. I’ll read yours. You don’t have to do mine.”

You reached out across the table as far as you could; your entire body was hurting. You didn’t want to be sneezing and achey during the Christmas holidays! You were busy pouting when George took your hand in his and began examining closely. You found yourself feeling surprised by a few things -- one, the tender touch of his fingers grazing your palm; two, how soft his skin felt against yours; three, the way your breath had hitched in your throat at the mere contact.

The feeling of his pointer finger tracing over your life and head lines on your palm sent shivers down your spine; perhaps it was an oncoming fever? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t know if the fogginess clouding your brain was the head cold or Trelawney’s classroom or the sheer intensity of the moment between you and this redhead. Somehow, though, when George looked up and locked eyes with you, you had this strange feeling that he was feeling the same things you were. Pure shock. Pure surprise.

“So, erm,” you began, clearing your throat and stretching as far away from him as you could, “what’s it say then? What’s going to happen?”

George hummed appreciatively and looked back down at your hand once more before letting go. “Some type of.. chemical reaction. In our Potions lesson. Bubbling cauldrons, and all that.”

What? Were the fumes getting to him too? He never looked so serious in all his life! Maybe he needed a trip to the hospital wing to uncloud his own head --

“Sorry? George, what’re you on about? We don’t take Potions together.”

“Oh, you’re right,” he replied, shaking his head a bit and forcing down a smile. And then, much to your surprise (and delight, perhaps?) he said something you were pretty sure you dreamt up: “--reaction must be between us, then.”

If his knee hadn’t been touching yours under the table, or you hadn’t felt the stuffiness of your head cold take you over, you would’ve been sure that it had all been a dream, or perhaps the haziness of the classroom making you hallucinate. But no. He’d said it. He’d said it quite seriously, with his signature smirk and hand through the hair right afterward.

The bell rang, startling you, and he stood up slowly and slung his bag across his shoulder. You fumbled with your books, both exhausted from your oncoming illness and dumbfounded by his comment. “Mum swears by green tea,”

“Oh, erm, sorry?”

George laughed. “Green tea. My mum says it always helps during the colder months. Pretty sure they’ve got some in the kitchens.” He started toward the door, but waited for you. You both parted ways near the Great Hall. “Rest up, alright? Don’t need my partner missing out on the very exciting, albeit outdated art of palm reading.”

You laughed a bit. “I’ll be sure to, George.”

“And remember,” he pointed at you, “lots of green tea. A Molly Weasley recommendation.”

You couldn’t help the gentle smile that tugged at your lips. “Tell her thanks for me.”

-- -

Two days later and you were feeling as good as new. George had been right -- a few cups of green tea everyday, and it seemed to have cleared your sinuses right up. His mum was a right genius.

There were only two more days of classes before everyone was going to pack up and leave for the holidays. Although you’d be back after the new year, it still felt odd going home; you missed Hogwarts so desperately whilst being home. Something about the castle, illuminated by dazzling decorations and lights and ornaments -- it was rather stunning, actually, and always left you yearning for more.

You were busy scribbling down the very last bit of your Charms essay in the library when you heard your name. Oh no! How long had you been there, working away? You groaned and quickly wrote your name on the top of the parchment and bolted from the back of the library. Then you stopped in your tracks as goosebumps rose on your skin, and you listened:

“Do me a favour, Weasley, and just admit that your brother is mad for her.”

It was your mate. What was she doing, here in the library? Wasn’t she supposed to be in Herbology? You quickly skidded your way into one of the empty aisles, listening intently to the conversation unfolding just a few feet away from you in the aisle next to yours. And then came the unmistakable sound of Fred Weasley’s very dry sarcasm:

“Who? George? My twin? Mad for your friend? No, there’s no way.”

You could almost hear the smile that split his face. Your breath caught in your throat, and you struggled terribly to stifle a cough. What were they on about? There was no way, just absolutely no way that he really did fancy you. You thought your mates had been joking a few weeks back; you’d taken them up on their suggestion to be polite, but that was merely it. Friends? Maybe. A couple? Bloody hell, absolutely not.

“Could you be bloody serious for one moment?”

“I reckon I do not have a serious bone in my body, I’m afraid.”

Ignoring this, your friend continued. “How long?”

“Hmm,” Fred began. You imagined that he was probably looking toward the sky, as if searching for his thoughts so he could pull them directly out of thin air. “Well, let’s see. Pretty sure the day Y/N screamed bloody murder at him in Potions, he’d fallen very quickly in love, even though he never admitted it to anyone. I’ve known it, though, because the poor bloke wears his heart on his sleeve. So about four years, yeah.”

“And he just couldn’t quit the merciless teasing, could he?”

“It’s like you don’t know us at all.”

You couldn’t listen anymore. You quickly shuffled your way out of the library and all the way to your common room until you were safely in your dormitory and could yell into the void. Why on bloody earth would he have been acting so rude if he actually fancied you, even if he had been trying to keep his feelings a secret? But then his comment from the other day flooded your mind, and you soon found, as you mulled them over, that a lot of his comments toward you could be taken in a flirtatious manner if you hadn’t been so obsessed with hating him so much. Perhaps, looking back, he’d been basing his repartee off of your desire to make your distaste of him very well known.

What would have happened if you’d taken that misfortune in Potions in stride? Would you two have been alright? Acquaintances? Friends? Maybe even..

You felt a small jab in your stomach.

It’s as if the conversation you’d overheard had made you do a complete one eighty. Four months ago, the idea of spending any of your time with George Weasley nearly sent you into a tizzy. You absolutely abhorred the idea. The sight of him alone made your blood boil, and any and all interaction with him would have made you miserable to the point of constant sulking. But now?

It was sort of hard to get the guy out of your head.

You found yourself constantly replaying all of your interactions with him over the years back each night before bed. Of course, there hadn’t been too many, seeing as you’d done your absolute very best to avoid him at all costs. But the ones that had happened.. perhaps there was something other than disdain in his voice. Maybe you’d just chosen to hear it as disdain, because you didn’t want to admit to yourself what was actually true.

You didn’t know what happened between that time he’d first read your palm and what you’d overheard in the library, but something had changed.

Lots had changed.

His words echoed in your ears.

Maybe there was some type of chemical reaction going on.

-- -

When you walked into Divination the next morning, you weren’t very surprised to see George already sitting there. He’d started coming to lessons earlier and earlier, to the point where he was getting there before you. It was refreshing, actually. You’d always thought he didn’t really care about work; he’d proved you wrong, though, and you were glad.

You both fell into your routine quite easily, ignoring the very theatrical talks coming from Trelawney as she made her way around the room to observe each of you through her her very large spectacles. You felt a bit of a pull at your heart that this would be your very last lesson together before the holidays -- you relished and also sort of dreaded the idea of being very far away from this foggy mess of a classroom for a few weeks time.

“You’re awfully quiet today. Feeling better?”

George’s voice took you by surprise, because you’d both been working rather diligently on the finishing touches of your essays. You cleared your throat and stunned yourself at how softly your voice sounded in your own ears. “Yes, yeah of course. That tea worked wonders actually -- your mum’s a genius.”

George laughed softly but didn’t look up from his parchment. “Yeah, she’s a wonder, she is.”

“Has to be,” you replied, tracing over the letters of your name, “with seven kids and all. Has to be on top of things.”

“I reckon you’re right.” He finished whatever he was writing and looked up at you with a smile, and when you skittishly glanced back down toward your parchment, he asked, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“Mhmm,” you replied, biting down on your lip. Your feet were thumping rhythmically against the floor. And then the words were said before you could register just exactly what you were doing: “Heard something about you.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Whatever it is, I swear I didn’t do it.” Then he paused, thought for a moment, and opened his mouth to speak again. “Alright..maybe I’ve done it.”

A small chuckle settled in the air between you both when he finally looked up from his parchment and locked his gaze with yours. “Sorry. What did you hear?”

You considered making something up, for now you were panicking, and you hated feeling panicked: but then again, you were in pretty deep already, and what did you have to lose? “It was from your brother, actually. Fred.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“Yeah, said something interesting,” you continued on, focusing your eyesight solely on the parchment in front of you. You resumed tracing the letters of your name over and over, just to give yourself an excuse to not look at him as your cheeks surely flooded pink. “Said you actually haven’t loathed me this entire time?” It came out as more of a question.

“Really?”

“Actually, if my memory serves me correctly..” you dragged out every single word, still unsure if you were going to go for it. And then you did. “I’m pretty sure he actually used the word.. fancy.”

You half expected George to throw up his arms in a fit, exclaiming that Fred didn’t know what the bloody hell he was on about, and of course he’d actually disliked you this entire time. You also half expected him to burst out and cackle himself silly, because the sheer idea of a guy like him fancying a girl like you just tickled him. But instead, he licked his lips and peered at you with a type of compassion in his eyes you’d never seen before. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and offered, “He’s smarter than I thought. And to think.. I’d never even told him how I truly felt.”

Okay, surely you’d dreamt that. But nope; nope, he’d said it, yet again, causing the butterflies to dance animatedly around your stomach. You opened your mouth to speak as he smiled softly at you, but then Trelawney came bouncing over, completely interrupting the moment. “Oh, my dears! Friendship was on your horizon, you say; now, look into the beyond and tell one another what lies ahead!”

She bounced quickly over to the next group, and you took to looking inside the crystal ball; but any type of focus you’d had before had flown out the window now -- there was no way you were going to be able to properly function, because as it turns out, your very worst enemy had actually liked you this entire bloody time.

George leant in closer so that he, too, was hovering over the crystal ball, your foreheads almost touching. You could feel his breath on your neck. His voice was low and cool, “What’s the future say now, love?”

“Friendship,” you somehow spit out, your throat and mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert. “Maybe more, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

And then the sound of glass shattering against the hardwood floor across the room startled you both, causing you to pull away from one another and catch your breath.

Moment over.

-- -

The Great Hall was bustling with students chatting animatedly and loads of luggage carts and parcels of presents. You’d just finished your final lesson before the holidays (Charms -- ending on a high note!) and you were very relieved to be on a break from your studies for a few weeks time and to be heading home.

The Great Hall was filled with people, but not the familiar one you were looking for.

Perhaps the conversation you were hoping to have could wait until after the holidays; although you didn’t know if you’d make it through three weeks of wondering what and if without spontaneously combusting.

You tugged your luggage out into the corridor to board one of the carriages to the train when you spotted him standing with his siblings, surrounded by luggage carts and huddled up in his Gryffindor robes and scarf.

Before you could find the courage to walk on over to him to wish him a happy Christmas, it seemed as though he was able to read your mind, for he excused himself from his siblings and made his way over to you, causing you to back up a few inches and press yourself directly into the wall.

You both hadn’t had a chance to chat since your lesson yesterday, since you’d found out the truth, since you’d ran out due to your nerves and George’s cheeky grin.

“So, erm -- sorry I ran out yesterday. Was a bit.. flustered, is all.”

You could’ve said anything else, but these were the words that chose to escape your lips. Bloody hell. You internally scolded yourself, but the expression George’s face didn’t change.

“Flustered?” he asked, confusion crinkling the edges of his eyes. “About what?”

“George, come on.”

“No, please,” he placed his hand on his chest, “You’re going to have to remind me. Yesterday’s events are all a blur, I’m afraid.”

He smirked, and you suddenly felt your blood begin to boil again. He was going to make you say it, of course he was.

“You know,” you started through gritted teeth, “our little conversation in Divination yesterday afternoon. About your... feelings.”

He nodded dramatically and clicked his tongue. “Right. That conversation. You know, it’s funny,” he began, placing his hands inside his pockets and moving closer to you, “I really dislike crystal gazing. I find the more accurate readings come from palmistry.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he replied flatly, as if it were obvious. He took out his hand and placed in front of you. “Look here. I reckon you’ll be able to read the future quite clearly.”

You took his hand in yours, and immediately felt as thought you were out of your element. Yet, you began to trace the lines gently with your forefinger. You weren’t reading any bloody future; you were merely trying not to let the very steady pounding of your heart be so evident in the rising tension between you both. You found yourself, actually, pulling ever so gently on his hand, as if to bring him closer to you. You could easily reach out and trace the outline of freckles on his nose.

“See anything intriguing?” he breathed.

Something about being around him made you feel simultaneously more nervous than you ever had been and more confident; you were feeling so self-assured that you actually said something before you could overthink it. “Yeah, actually, looks here like you’re about to kiss me,” you said breathlessly.

How odd, you thought, that just mere months ago the man in front of you was none other than your absolute mortal enemy, and now all you wanted to do was spend the holidays locked away with him in a broom cupboard.

A cheeky grin split his face and he moved another inch or so closer; just centimeters to go, and his lips would be fully pressed to yours, the chemical reaction bubbling over perfectly. “Is that so?” he asked quietly, very slowly moving his way forward. He lifted your chin with his hand so your face was angled up toward his, and he stopped just as his lips so very softly brushed yours. It didn’t even seem real, honestly. Just then, one of the Weasleys shouted to George that their older brother was here to fetch them, and he you felt his smile brighten ever so lightly against you. Damnit! And instead of finishing what he’d started, he merely ran a finger across your chin, down your neck and over your collarbone and whispered, “Happy Christmas, love,” before pulling away.

What in the bloody fuc--! Was he kidding? Not only had the reaction bubbled over, but you now felt like exploding at how much of a prat he was being. He’d already made you say such silly things, and now he really had the audacity to almost kiss you and then pull away?

“You’ve got to be joking,” you said under your breath as he squeezed your hand. “You’re going to kill me.”

He wiggled his eyebrows seductively. “Have got to leave you wanting more, don’t I?”

You scoffed loudly and took a very deep, very overdue breath to regain your composure, but not before he leaned in and caught you off guard by pressing his lips to yours and gently melting into you. A slight sigh escaped you, and before you could register just what it felt like to have his lips on yours, you both broke apart -- he winked merrily at your wide eyes and made his way back toward his siblings. “You still going to be a right prat in three weeks time?” you teased, folding your arms across your chest as he tugged a beanie over his head.

“Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, love,” he said as if it were obvious, “you still going to let me read your palms and drive you mad?”

You grinned a bit more and shook your head, tugging your own scarf around your neck as he was pulled by his siblings out of the castle. You breathed deeply, brought your fingers to your lips where his had just been, and said to nobody in particular, “Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, Weasley.”

[dumblefairy]

hi yes henlo i would like to sit on joker’s lap without asking first and wind my arms around his neck, fingers delving into vibrant green, and smother his face in so many kissies that he can only sit there lightly clasping my wrists and giggling, his nose wrinkled and the music of his joy filling my ears and soothing me from the inside out.im wamnt to give bb kissies and a love so intense he doesnt know what to do with himself or with me mwah mwah MWUAH

literally me opening my inbox and reading this rn:

also did someone say the words JOKER and LAP??? THOSE ARE THE TWO SUPERIOR THINGS and they hold so much power….

ngl i’m imagining you straddled across his lap whilst he looks like this bro byeeeee

oh man HE WOULD GIGGLE SO MUCH and when you smudge tf out of his makeup with kisses (getting it all over your own face MAY I ADD) he would grin so hard because you look so fucking cute at this point LETS BE REAL

dude you’re making him laugh so much the man is choking on his cigarette. you both look A MESS. he takes the day off because he wants to spend it giggling uncontrollably with his precious little fawn dhsjksjs like fr you both make each other SO HAPPY it’s honestly the cutest most pure thing and tbh i am crying