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jamilelucato · 4 years

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The Duff || Fred Weasley

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader (any house)

summary: your life became too stressing lately, and Fred Weasley, although generally very annoying, manages to distract you just enough when he stops talking.

A/N: completely based on the book The Duff. Like completely. So reader may have some issues with her appearance. Sorry about my other fics! It’s just that, when an idea pops, I have to write. It’s a big fic. (feel like it’s one of my brightest works)

words: + 11k

warnings: insinuations and mentions of sex; body insecurities; sick father, etc

Harry Potter Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Series

You couldn't understand what could be the fun in going to Three Broomsticks to party. The place is one of the oldest bars in Hogwarts, but not long ago, Madam Rosmerta decided to add a dance floor in one of the darkest sides of the pub, and she got one of those muggle music machines. It was very nice if your thing was dancing in sweat and rubbing your body in people.

Easy to say it was most definitely not your thing.

"Okay, that's it for you," said Madam Rosmerta, taking your mug away. It once was filled with butterbeer, but the barmaid seemed to think you had gotten it filled way too many times for a night.

"Oh, come on," you complained, "there's no alcohol on those."

"I know. But it has sugar, and you had one too many," Rosmerta said, ignoring your pout and walking away from your side of the counter so she could serve other costumers.

Your brain fought a battle to decide if it was worth contesting and explaining that not offering you more butterbeer was causing the barmaid to lose money when the stool next to you cried with the weight that was jumping on it.

"Good evening, y/n," said the boy who now sat next to you.

It was inevitable when your eyes rolled just by smelling his cologne. There was no need for you even to turn to know who it was. Only one boy in the whole Hogwarts was confident enough to wear such cheap cologne as if it was holy water.

"Get the hell away, Weasley," you cried, wishing, profoundly, to have another butterbeer with you.

Madam Rosmerta noticed the new client sitting close to the counter, and she quickly came back to serve him.

"Fred Weasley," she greeted him with her playful smile. She knew the Hogwarts teenage boys only flirted with her in hopes of a discount, but she enjoyed it, considering it rather fun. "What can I get you?"

"My usual butterbeer, Ro," he said, charming her with his smirk. She chuckled, while he passed her a coin.

"If you're getting him one, you're getting me one too," you warned the barmaid, raising a brow. Your serious approach worked because, with a sigh, she walked back with two drinks.

You tossed her your coin.

"That is officially your last one, young lady, so you better enjoy it," she threatened before leaving and playing with her hair solemnly for Fred to see.

He was still smiling when you decided to look at him. He was a bastard, but, boy, was he handsome.

"You have five seconds to disappear from in front of me now that you have your drink," you warned. Even though Fred's eyes followed the back of Rosmerta, yours was still staring at him. Maybe the amount of disgust you felt for him could pass on with a look.

"Chill, would you?" Fred took a sip from his mug, supporting his arms on the counter, finally looking at you. "If you're so bothered, the dance floor awaits."

You chuckled, frowning right after. "Look, Weasley, don't you have any other girl to fuss around?"

He smirked, thinking you were falling for his game. "Do you have friends you'd like to suggest?" he played, raising his brows. "Is Jess still single?"

"I'd be dead if I let you stay even one meter close to my friends, do you hear me? I don't want them catching any diseases," you shivered just with the thought of how many girls (and STDs) this boy before you might have encountered.

"So they are here," his eyes narrowed as if he was scanning the dance floor, searching for your girls.

"Go away, Fred," you sighed, tired of that conversation. You took one sip of your mug, but the butterbeer was no longer enough to keep your mind away from Fred Weasley's affairs. "And stay away from Jess and Casey."

"Oh, y/n, just put a good word for me, please. I mean, it is your job," Fred leaned in, closer to you and his scent attacked your nostrils again, making you lean back.

"It's not my job to help you, Weasley."

"Well, as their duff, I think it is," he drank from his mug, ignoring your confused look.

"Duff?"

Asking him what the word meant called his attention back to you, but he seemed surprised you hadn't heard about it yet. "You know, designated ugly fat friend," he replied, making a peculiar gesture with his neck as he spoke the last term.

You couldn't possibly have heard him right. "Excuse me??"

"Look, I don't mean to offend," he shrugged his broad shoulders, a gift from all his years playing Quidditch.

He noticed how fast your expression was changing.

"It's not like you're an ogre or anything, but in comparison…" his eyes wandered back to the dance floor, this time yours followed, seeing Jess and Casey — your longest-time best friends — dancing with some other students. "Think about it. Why do they bring you here if you don't dance?"

"Shut it, Weasley. They bring me here because I'm their friend; stop with your nonsense," your mind was working incredibly hard to stop you from believing that you were the ugly friend. Because that could not be the truth. Especially if everyone already knew and the one to tell you about it had to be the most annoying Gryffindor.

Fred had the nerve to reach over and pat your knee, but you jerked away from him. "Look," he said, "you have hot friends… really hot friends."

All the butterbeer you had drunk was starting to make you sick. Perhaps Rosmerta had been right, but if you had to bet in a guilt part, you'd bet on the ginger.

"The point is, in a group of friends, there's always a weak link, a Duff. And girls respond well to guys who associate with their Duffs."

"Where are you getting this info? The Quibbler?" you never meant to offend the Lovegoods, but Fred Weasley was speaking rubbish at this point.

"Don't be bitter," Fred pressed his lips together, pausing. "What I'm saying is girls find it sexy when lads show some sensitivity and socialize with the Duff. So, please, help me here, and just pretend to enjoy our talk."

There it was, in front of you, the living, redheaded proof that stupidity is capable of making people persevere for years. You already knew that Fred was a womanizing asshole, but it was unexpected to find out how worthless as a human being he is, too. Pretty faces definitely aren't everything.

With one swift motion, you jumped to your feet and flung the contents of your mug in Fred's direction.

The remaining butterbeer flew all over him, splattering his striped polo collar shirt. The liquid got his ginger hair wet entirely, which surprised you because, usually, you wouldn't have such great aim.

His face burned with anger, and his chiselled mandible clenched angrily. "What was that for?" he snapped, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"What do you think it was for?" you snapped.

"I have no possible idea."

Madam Rosmerta appeared again, giving Fred a white cloth to dry himself, but it wasn't enough. Part of you wanted to be mad at the waitress for helping Fred, but you knew she just didn't want him to ask her to take you out.

"If you think I'm letting one of my friends leave this place with you, Weasley, you're very, very wrong, " you spluttered, staring at him with fire in your eyes. "You're a shallow jackass, and I hope that we never cross paths again."

The stupid muggle music played so loud that no one but Rosmerta overheard you, and she probably found you awsome. She loved some teenage drama.

You grabbed your friends as quickly as you could. They were about protest all the way to the secret passageway back to Hogwarts, so you decided it was best to explain what was happening.

"What's wrong?" Casey asked. Her once perfect dark hair was now wet — part of you wondered if the sweat even belonged to her. For such a smart Ravenclaw, you expected more of her.

"Let's get back to school; I just can't stand to be in this hellhole for one more second, " you said, dragging their reluctant bodies along behind you.

"Why are we leaving so early? It's only, like, nine-fifteen," Jess asked, frowning a bit, looking at you with her sad big blue eyes. Her Hufflepuff charm was about to work on you when you remembered why you were living.

"I got into an argument with someone, " you said, and Jess puppy eyes quickly disappeared, opening the place for her angry face to emerge. "I threw my Coke on him, and I didn't want to stick around for his response."

"Who?" Casey asked. You'd been dreading that question because you knew the reaction you'd get.

"Fred Weasley." two girly sighs followed your answer. "The guy is a man-whore. I can't stand him. He sleeps with everything that moves, and his brain is located in his pants—which means it's microscopic."

"I doubt that, " Casey said with another sigh.

"He's a jerk," you said, hoping your voice sounded like it was final. The tunnel back to Hogwarts seemed endless.

"That's not true," Jessica inserted. "Katie Bell told me he talked to her when she was alone at the Yule Ball. She was with Angelina and Alicia, and she said he just came up and made conversation, really friendly."

That made sense. Katie was definitely the Duff if she was out with Angelina and Alicia. And you knew for a fact that Angelina left with Fred that night.

"He's charming, " Casey said. "Give him some credit." Her smile slowly faded when she remembered that you threw at him your beer. "But what the hell did he do to you tonight, huh?" Now she sounded concerned. Took her long enough.

You sighed, noticing that saying something would only make their worry and you really wanted to avoid their pity. "Nothing, " you lied, "Fred just pisses me off."

Duff. The word bounced around in your mind as you three reached Hogwarts. When you took a last look at your friends before each parted to your houses, Fred's statement that you were the unattractive, undesirable tagalong seemed to be confirmed.

Jessica's perfect hourglass body and big brown eyes. Casey's athlete's features and impeccable skin. You definitely weren't like them.

"Well, see you tomorrow for the feast?" Jess asked the two of you.

You and Casey shared tired smiles. Although Casey would've like to stay a little longer at the Three Broomsticks, she welcomed extra sleeping hours. Her Quidditch player schedule didn't leave her much time to rest.

"See you," you stated, walking away slowly, letting your feet lead the way to your dorm where you'd try extra hard to forget the whole Duff thing.

You picked your blanket up to your chin, not wanting to get out of bed so soon, even though you could very much get late for Snape's class.

Fred Weasley words were hunting you like a ghost. They shouldn't be, because you sure didn't care about his opinion. But the courage he had called you that disgusting abbreviation and how you seemed to find the one out from every single group of friends you walked past.

It had been a week and a half, so why did his words bother you? You were brilliant and a good witch, always there for your friends. Thus, who cared if you were the Duff?

If you were charming, you'd have to deal with lads like Weasley hitting on you. Ugh! That could be a Duff benefit, right? Being unattractive didn't have to suck.

Damn Fred Weasley! You couldn't believe he managed to pack your head with such superficial bullshit. Getting out of bed with a jump, you were committed.

You wouldn't think about Duffs ever again.

Thursdays were homework day, at least for you and your best friends.

When classes were over, the three of you would meet at the library for a long late afternoon, reading through books and doing assignments. And, of course, spilling some tea with whispers.

That afternoon was being way bored than you expected. It was like Jess and Casey interrupted your reading all the time to tell you something new, but that day they seemed to have nothing to say.

And when I say nothing, I mean nothing.

Suspicious.

You stared at them, who pretended they hadn't been facing you all along and turned back to their essays.

"Okay, what is it? You two are awfully quiet," you whispered, leaning closer to them, scared the librarian could hear you.

They exchanged looks before, sighing, Jess gave up on her silent treatment.

"Remember when we planned on going to Three Broomsticks tomorrow?" she pouted, trying to work her big eyes on you.

"You two planned, you mean. I never agreed on it."

"We kinda find dates to go with us," said Casey, ignoring your comment on the matter.

You stared at your two best friends, holding yourself to not laugh.

"Thankfully. I never said I wanted to go," you pointed out with a smile, turning back to your book.

Jessica didn't seem satisfied with you looking away just yet.

"We can find you a date," Jess suggested.

You chuckled. "Alright," you spat — the possibility sounded ridiculous; principally when Fred's words still echoed in the corner of your mind.

"y/n, you have to come," Casey's tone was more serious. "You never go out unless we force you. So, if you don't want a date for yourself, you are thrid-wheeling."

"Not in Askaban, I am not!" you protested, raising your voice way too much but thankfully nobody was around.

Jess tried to work her puppy eyes again. "Please," she sobbed. "If you don't come, I'll feel guilty. Do you want me to ditch Cormac?"

"You are going with Cormac??" you asked, genuinely concerned because he was younger than you, but then you recalled he wasn't younger than her.

"Just show up," said Casey, not really allowing you to object. "I'll pay you a butterbeer."

Her offer was very, very tempting. You had no idea if one could become addicted to butterbeer since yours never had alcohol, but you're getting closer to that.

"But I'll only stay 'till nine," you informed.

The two girls smiled, and Jess had to hold herself from clapping in excitement.

"That'll be enough," said Casey.

"Is your father okay?" Casey asked you as soon as Jess left, and she had the open opportunity to corner you.

She was the only one in the school that you were brave enough to confess what was happening to your father. He had been recently attacked by some Death Eaters, and the Cruciatus curse left him with severe brain damaged.

It happened during the summer, before the start of your seventh year, so you had a couple of weeks to recover from that news before going back to school.

But when your mom's first letter arrived, saying your father was getting more insane with time, no amount of preparation was enough to hold back your tears as you ran out of the Great Hall.

You were able to lie to Jess, but with Casey, you weren't so lucky. Besides, her mom worked at St. Mungo's, so she already knew about your dad way before you told her.

It had been two months since you've been ignoring your mom's letters, all of them. You are too scared to read what they've got to say, and she doesn't let you go back home anyways.

You wanted to be with him, your father, hold his hand, make him better. But your mom was firm on her decision about you graduating Hogwarts.

So, when you stared at Casey's beautiful face, you had no idea what to answer.

"He can't get better," you said, in tone way harsher than you were planning. Who knew that not speaking about a matter would make you feel more painful towards it?

Casey gulped — she was always like that: she would touch the wound, but she had no idea what to do about it later.

"Do you want me to write to my m..."

"No," you quickly answered, not even letting her finish. "I just need to graduate — then I'll deal with my dad."

"It will take longer while 'till graduation, y/n," Casey pointed out. She knew you were convincing yourself it was just a couple more months, but that was a terrible lie you no longer could satisfy yourself with.

Casey wanted to do something, but taking you out was all you allowed the girls to do to you. You hated the new club atmosphere of Three Broomsticks, but you had to admit, it was pretty distracting.

"Promise I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Promise," you said, before leaving your best friend alone in the hallway.

Snape's latest assignment stood before you, with a lot of notes from the Professor, pointing out all of your mistakes.

And there were a lot of them.

When class ended, you walked up to the Professor, gulping and shaking. You knew he didn't dislike you, but you were never too careful with Severus Snape.

"Professor, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes?" he turned to face you; his black robe swirled with his movement.

"I just want to know if this essay was, hm, a big part of this year's grade?" you asked, avoiding looking in his dark eyes. "If so, can I do something else to improve my grade?"

He swallowed before answering, his serious tone implicating he didn't want to be having this conversation.

"You used to be my best student, Miss y/l/n, but this year you turned into the worse," he said, pausing in that terrible way only he knew. If your last year's grade hadn't been an Outstanding, I would have written you off my class by now."

You stared at Snape, unsure of what to do next and terrified of the man before you. He never treated you that way.

"Sorry to bother, Professor," you said, leaving right away, knowing very well that he had just ruined your rest of the day, including the night with your girls.

But what would you tell them? They would say that Snape was always like that. And even Casey, who was bloody smart, didn't have classes with Snape anymore. She would say for you to drop it too.

Your mind led your feet to the Moaning Myrtle's abandoned bathroom. There, your cry could be confused with hers by those who passed by. Thus, no one would disturb you.

The ghost wasn't even startled when she heard you come in, crying, and throw yourself on the floor near the sinks. Myrtle has seen you there since the school year started when you read your mother's first letter.

You usually went there at night, when you were sure you wouldn't see anyone. But after years of trusting Professor Snape — and believing that he would never mistreat you — what you heard today was the culmination.

When you decided you had cried enough, you headed out of the bathroom, holding your Potions (terrible) essay closer to your chest. You walked around the castle, but, perhaps, your eyes lost contact with your brain — the next thing you knew, you ran smack into Fred Weasley.

As if I needed more reasons for wanting to die.

You stumbled backwards, and your essay slipped from your arms, heading straight to the floor.

The ginger boy grasped you by both shoulders, his big hands catching you before you had the chance to slip over your own feet.

"Watch it," he said, steadying you.

You two were standing way too close to each other, and once again, you could smell his cheap cologne, this time it seemed to spread all over your body. Bloody hell, am I gonna smell like Weasley now? You shivered with disgust, but he misread it.

"Trouble standing up?" he joked, looking down at you with a cocky smirk.

He was really tall — you'd forgotten that, sitting next to him at the Three Broomsticks that night.

"Do I make you weak in the knees?"

Ignoring his stupid question, you knelt down to get the essay, and he did the same, grabbing it first. You forgot how to breathe for a second, hoping he wouldn't try to read it — and notice all the corrections Snape had made with permanent ink.

However, as soon as he grabbed it, he was handing it over to you.

You took it and brought it back closer to your chest, stepping away from him and his stupid perfume and stupid touch that sent weird and uncomfortable chills through your spine.

You were starting to walk away, leaving him behind when you heard:

"Thank you, Weasley," he attempted to copy your accent. "See you around, Weasley."

But you rolled your eyes and didn't even venture to look at him again.

How you managed to get out of your dorm and show up was all Jess and Casey's fault. If they hadn't been talking about you going out all week, and then Jess almost crying for you to appear, you would've rather very much stayed in bed.

You drummed your fingers on the wooden surface of the bar, your mind far away from the muggle music and your very dance-pants friends.

Your mind was tricking you in remembering about your father, something you were really trying to push away. Why hadn't you insisted on staying with Dad? Why hadn't you read mom's letters?

You kept imagining your dad, wallowing in his misery… alone. You wondered if at least your mom would visit him at St. Mungos. They were never the clingy type of couple, but maybe now she could be more sentimental.

But neither you were sentimental. So why now? Why care so much for your dad when he was never that much of an extraordinary parent?

"Evenin', Duffy."

Why did that nitwit have to sit next to you?

"Go away, Fred," you scolded, looking down at your fingers, playing with your empty mug.

"I can't, " he said. "First of all, the only reason you're here's that I taught you and your friends how to scape Hogwarts," you rolled your eyes while he continued, "besides, I'm not one to give up easily. I am set to snog one of your friends," he shrugged as if he was the biggest gentleman on Earth.

"Then go talk to the one," you suggested, not even turning to see his face.

"I would, but Fred Weasley doesn't chase girls. They chase him."

His sentence stayed in the air around as for a second before you burst in laughter. He couldn't be sober to say something like that. You faced him, finally, and confirmed — he very much had just arrived, so he wasn't drunk. He was just stupid.

Handsome, but stupid.

"Til they come to me, you get the honour of my company," he said, and then he took your mug away from your restless fingers. "Lucky for me, it doesn't look like you're armed with a beverage tonight."

You awaited for his laugh, but it never came.

"What is it with you today?"

"Already told you I'm not in the mood, Weasley," you reminded him.

"What's wrong?"

"Go...away," you warned, slowly.

You no longer good handle the tension burning inside you, it had to be released in some way, and it needed to be right then. But you didn't want to cry, not in front of a bunch of students partying, and there was no way you were going to vent with the dimwitted next to you, and punching someone would just get Rosmerta disappointed.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Fred asked, touching your shoulders carefully. He was forcing you to face him, even though he was being too gentle for his usual. "y/n?"

Then it was like your systems had stopped working — like a magic spell went wrong. Your only excuse is that you were under an unbelievable amount of stress, and you detected an exit.

You needed a distraction, and your chance was staring at you with sparkly eyes. Regret was the last thing you were thinking about.

An opportunity sat on the barstool beside you, and you lunged at it, literally.

You kissed Fred Weasley.

You grabbed him by polo neck of his red t-shirt, pulling him closer and locking your lips on his. He froze at first, but it didn't take him more than three seconds to understand what was happening, and the hand once on your shoulder was now on you cheeks.

Fred returned your urge, biting your lower lip, making his way inside your mouth with his tongue. Your hands left his neck and went to his hair, surprised to find soft hair.

His hands flew to your sides and pulled you toward him as if his hair was the secret to his horniness. As you wrapped your fingers in the strands of red hair, his fingertips dug into your waist.

It worked better than punching someone would have. Not only did it help you release the tension, but it distracted you. It's hard to think about your dad when you're making out with somebody.

He leaned into me, and I hauled at him so hard that Fred nearly fell off his bar stool. At that moment, both just couldn't get close enough to each other. Your separate seats seemed like they were miles apart.

Nothing existed, but the physical connection — there were no emotions in the way. It was amazing not to think. Nothing! Nothing… until he screwed it up.

His hand slid up from your waist, lingering along your back, and came to a stop around your boobs. Everything flooded back, and you suddenly remembered who had his lips on yours.

As fast as you jumped on him, you leaned away, taking your hands from his hair and shoving him away.

His hands dropped, one landing on your knee, as he pulled away. He looked astonished but weirdly pleased.

"Wow, Duff, that was—", but he never finished. You were already gone, running out of the bar and rushing to get to the secret passageway.

You didn't look back. If Fred followed, once you got to Hogwarts, he turned around.

When you reached your dorm and jumped on the bed, your heartbeat was impossible to keep track. You told yourself it was because of the run back to the school, but your mind was still playing flashes of the snogging session that had just happened.

It wasn't fair to remember his touch and how out of limits he was —good kisser, but still a jerk.

You didn't want to admit it, but you were madder at yourself than at him.

Two days.

That was the amount of time you managed to stay away from Fred Weasley since the little "incident".

One thing was for sure: it had numbed completely any stress your father situation was afflicting him. It had even made you forget about your recent bad grades.

Now, every time you got distracted, the only thought that filled your mind was a non-stop replay of the kiss you and Fred shared. It made you feel weirdly sick in the stomach, and you swore you could feel his disgusting touch as if it dirtied your body forever.

Jess and Casey didn't even bother arguing with you about leaving early that night — they felt guilty because they left you alone at the counter. Of course, you didn't tell them about the whole Weasley situation, but, even though Jess seemed clueless, Casey noticed your change in action.

How defensive you were towards their questions, more than usual. How you avoided spending too much time at the Great Hall.

So, when she purposely asked you to watch her Quidditch practice, you knew she was testing you. Perhaps Casey thought something worse was happening to your dad and if that was her bet, you wouldn't be the one to make her see the other side of the coin.

"Came to watch me play?" an annoying voice asked, calling your attention to your left where Fred Weasley stood flying up in his broom. His torso was tilted towards you, who was sitting in the stands.

One look was all you took for your mind to fill with disgusting memories, and your stomach was killing you once again. You faced back the field, where Casey was supposed to be practising, but, apparently, the thing was over because she and her teammates were nowhere to be found.

That explains the Gryffindor in his robes, you thought, sighing and gathering your things before getting up.

Fred was still staring at you, analyzing, expecting.

"I'm not here for you, Weasley," you spat.

Your temper surprised him, but he managed to recover before you could notice.

"What a pity," he sighed, letting the corner of his lips turn up. "I thought you wanted a second dose of fun."

You stared at him, with your angry issues burning up. If before kissing him he already had his ways of pissing you off, now it was like he was power was ten times stronger.

Your first thought was to hex him right there and then, but he wasn't worth that much worry.

"That wasn't fun, Weasley," you decided to state the obvious; something Fred seemed to have been having trouble understanding.

"You seemed very entertained twirling your fingers in my hair," he smirked, holding a chuckle while your eyes widened and you closed your fists.

"That was a mistake; I wasn't in my right mind," you said, clenching your teeth in rage. That boy was driving you crazy.

From behind him, you recognized Casey, walking on the field, already out of her Quidditch robes and holding her broom with just one hand. You knew that was your way out.

"Fine, blame it on the butterbeer," he sighed, "if it's what makes you sleep at night."

"What makes you think, Weasley," you paused, stepping closer to the end of the stands and closer to the ginger, "that I think about you at night?" you raised your tone involuntarily, letting your emotions get the best of you.

"Your body language, for one, Duff," Fred smirked again, feeling his win just because you were getting out of control.

Last time you were raged like that you had kissed him, so perhaps it could happen again.

But the nickname set you back. You were still bitter, but now you remembered why — it was because of that shallow nickname and that stupid boy.

You turned around and stepped away, to the end of the stands. You needed to get out of there as fast as you could.

"See you around too, Duff," you heard Fred shouted, but you didn't dare look back.

Casey met you at the end of the stairs, where a bunch of Gryffindors were crossing paths with the Ravenclaws leaving.

"Was that Fred Weasley? Talking to you?" was the first thing Casey asked when you were close to her enough to hear.

"Yep," you sighed, still tense because of your conversation.

"Godric! Is he hot in his Quidditch uniform!" she gasped, but different from you, she had that romantic, girly look on her face again. It made you wanna vomit.

"Please, Cass, you can find someone hotter than him," you protested, frowning.

"Someone hotter doesn't take Fred's hotness away," she argued, raising a brow towards you. She was messing with you, of course, but knowing it didn't make it easier. She didn't know about the kiss, so for all purposes' sake, she still thought you would never even touch him.

"Can't you just pine over — hmm, I don't — George Weasley, his twin?" you said, sarcastically. "If you think Fred's hot, George is too, and I'm pretty sure he's a better person."

"Too vanilla," she replied as if it proved her point.

"How would you know?" you asked, but couldn't help but burst in laughter with her, both very sure this conversation wasn't going anywhere.

Casey was right again. Not about George being vanilla — that you couldn't be sure, being that you had never talked to the chap. You couldn't manage to say more than three words to George, his presence always made you kinda weak in the knees.

But George didn't know about it, and neither did your best friends, and you intend in leaving thing at that. George was kind of your platonic crush, it was healthy to have one (probably), and he was never cross that line.

Funny, huh, how George made you feel starstruck, and Fred made you wanna kill yourself.

The thing Casey was right was about Fred being hot and charming. He was appearing more times than often in your mind, and for the rest of the week, he no longer popped as a replay of a kiss. Fred was appearing in your mind as new sexy scenarios, things a deep part of you wanted to experiment. And apparently, with him. Yikes.

You tried to convince yourself that those scenarios were with George (had happened before) but, at this point, you knew how to differentiate the two very well. And, deep down, you knew who was the ginger biting your neck and intertwining his legs in yours.

And that infuriated your guts.

"You did that for what?"

Your question echoed to the Great Hall, with a dozen of heads turning to what the little show you were putting on.

It was not your intention to make a scene, but, at that moment, you were more enraged than you'd ever been your whole life. Casey was your best friend, and you knew sometimes she was bold for the greater good, but you doubted that doing what she did was for the greater good.

Because you were feeling like shit.

She had intercepted your owl with your mom's letter about your father's condition. Casey had observed that you were ignoring your mom's messages — last night she went to your dorm room with Jess for a girls night, and ended up finding accidentally a box packed with the parchments unopen.

So she planned on getting your owl before it dropped its letter over you and she managed to sit next to you and starting reading it aloud, without telling you what she was reading.

It was only when she got to the second line of the thing — "they say they are doing everything they can and they don't want to raise our hopes, because his chance of recovery is almost none"— that you realized that it was your mom's words.

You got so angry as never before, shouting at Casey to shut up, and without overthinking, you cast a fire spell on the thing. Thankfully she dropped the parchment before it burned her hands, but that doesn't mean that she didn't get angry at you too.

Jess watched and came closer, trying to find words to say, but she didn't know what was happening and she didn't want to side with anyone.

You felt the urge to cry, but, not in hell, you were doing it in front of the whole school. You gathered your bag and ran out of that place, not looking back — even though Casey was screaming "I'm sorry", and Jessica was asking you to wait.

"Hey, wait up," a voice called, this time it didn't belong to a girl.

You froze at your spot, your feet slowly turning to face the boy following you in the empty hallway. Traitors, you wanted to say to your feet.

"Not now, Weasley," you said, trying hard to look away, but once his dark eyes met yours, you just couldn't bring yourself to walk away.

"Then, when? You need to talk," he pointed out, taking his hands out of his pockets, not yet breaking the eye contact. It was like he knew that he looking at you was the only thing keeping you there.

"You heard the show, huh."

"Just saw you, angrily walking away," he said while you nervously grabbed your bag's handle. "Thankfully, there was no butterbeer in your hands."

His attempt to joke went not as smoothly as he expected. You faced your shoes, biting your lip with the stupid idea that popped in your mind. You knew what you planned wasn't right.

But when he stepped towards you, it felt natural.

"Just shut up, Weasley," you said, before getting on your tiptoes and leaning in to kiss him.

He was surprised, again, but this time he was quick to respond and somehow smarter — he grabbed your waist and guided you to a door that only he knew existed in that hallway.

It was a broom closet, probably the brooms first-years use to train flying.

This time there was no inhibition. Fred's mouth in yours was not going to be enough to forget you fighting with Casey and your mom's words about your dad. You needed more. Thankfully, Fred Weasley was more than pleased to serve, fastly taking your white shirt off while you unbuttoned his pants.

"Are you sure of this, Duff?" he asked before pulling your black skirt up.

"I said shut up, Weasley," you reminded him, in a bossy tone. And in case he tried to open his mouth again, you locked it with yours.

Things were worse than ever before.

After Casey's episode, you hadn't talked to her ever since. She tried, the first few days, but she saw you were ignoring her and with time, she gave up. Jess attempted to convince you to talk to Casey, and for that, you started ignoring Jess too.

Your grades weren't getting better any time soon — Professor Snape was now no longer the only one complaining to you about it. Thankfully, the other Professors were more understanding about it than Severus — the school knew about your father situation.

Oh, yeah. About your parents: since Casey attempt to read you a letter, you haven't touched one yet. And you weren't going to do it anytime soon.

The only person you were hanging out with — by Merlin, you never thought that would happen — was Fred Weasley.

It was easygoing with him because there wasn't much talking to do. He knew better than to ask you anything related to your personal life — even though he tried, a lot.

You two would meet primarily at the Room of Requirement — it usually provided a bed for you, so that was more comfortable than any broom closet. If he ever attempted to make conversation, you'd shut him up with your lips and locking your fingers in his hair — that was his soft spot for sure.

You noticed he was trying to be your friend, more than just a hookup because he was lately scheduling your meetings in places where more people were around — therefore you couldn't just kiss him.

Today, you two were meeting after his Quidditch practice. In his defence, you had indeed mentioned how hot after-trainings sex could be, and that was, probably, where he got the idea.

You were waiting for him in the ground leaned in the entrance to the stairs to the stands, laughing with yourself, because, not long ago, when he mentioned you waiting for him at the Quidditch field, you thought the idea was absurd.

"There he is," you said, placing your hands in the back pockets of your jeans, walking side by side with a just showered Fred Weasley.

"You came."

"You said for me to come," you replied, tilting your head towards him and chuckling. It wasn't like you and any other places to be, but he didn't need to know.

"Hey, Fred, what are we..." started George, rushing to Fred's side and gasping at the notice of you. "Oh, hey, y/n."

So nice to have a Weasley calling you by your name instead of the stupid "duff" thing Fred seemed to love.

But that was George — the George Weasley — and all you managed to do was blush and nervously say hello back.

"Well, brother, got do something with y/n first, but, later, we can..."

"— don't bother with me! I'm sure we can hang out the three of us," you interrupted Fred, glad this time you didn't stutter.

Fred practically spat out a laugh, looking at you like you were crazy. "We? With my own twin?"

You pushed Fred by the shoulder, disgusted by the bullshit he had suggested.

"We can change our plans," you elaborated. "That's what I meant, Fred."

George's eyes went from you to Fred, not sure of what to say next. He didn't know what was going on between the two of you — you'd threatened Fred that you'd kill the whole Weasley family if he decided to say something.

"Are you sure? Fred and I can do the prank later."

"It's a prank? Then count me in!" you smiled, pushing Fred's shoulder again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

There was one exact reason why Fred didn't tell you — it's because you weren't interested, especially in personal stuff and principally in pranks.

"Wow, y/n, I reckon I've never seen you so excited," George commented, smiling.

The three of you started walking away from the Quidditch field while Fred mumbled something about him being the reason for your excitement — for that you replied with pinching his left arm.

You had never laughed so hard in your life. Fred, George and you were sitting on the floor of the empty library, leaning your backs against a dusty shelf in the dark corner of the room.

"Did you see his face?" George giggled, placing a hand over his chest where his heart was beating extra fast.

All of the hearts there were beating fast.

It was almost midnight, and by the school rules, you three should be in bed, but the amount of enthusiasm you were feeling was convincing you being a reckless student wasn't so bad.

You were sitting in the middle of the twins, your hands tossed on the floor — the left one just a couple of centimetres away from Fred's. He was watching you, paying very close attention at how the red slowly painted your face back, since it had been white because of all the running from Filch to not get caught.

"Thanks for tagging me along," you said, with a small smile, looking at George.

"Anytime," George said, thinking it was the right thing to do. "You're fun to be around. I see why you wanted to hang out with her, Freddie."

You would've teased Fred about the silly nickname if it wasn't gonna ruin the beautiful moment you and George were having.

Fred watched his twin and you, giggling with each other, talking about random funny stuff related to Argo Filch, but he couldn't hear the conversation quite well. He could only focus on how you were leaning towards George, and how, involuntarily, your hand ran away from his.

"Well, chaps, I've gotta keep going," George announced, getting up and shaking the dust out of his clothes. You pouted, saddened by the departure of your favourite twin.

Fred didn't even breathe, scared that would make his brother want to stay. It wasn't like he was addicted to you — Godric, no! — but he was really looking forward to spending some time with you. Just with you.

"So soon?" you replied, noticing that one prank and you now could speak perfectly well with George. You had no idea why it became uncomplicated, but spending time with him only made you notice what you already knew — he's very different from Fred. "See you later, then."

"See ya," George then turned around and walked out of the library, making sure he wasn't being heard.

As soon as George was away, Fred turned to you, using his hand to bring you face towards him. You allowed it, not really having much choice when he touched you like that.

"Why did want to prank with us?" he asked, looking straight into your eyes.

You shrugged, saying nothing. But something in your expression — maybe the quick thought of George — gave you away.

"George," Fred sighed, surprisingly angry, but not enough for you to notice. His hand fell from your face to his side. "You like him."

"Puff! What? No. What?"

Yeah, your reaction wasn't the best. But Fred shrugged, letting his jealous side hide and acting like a jerk because it was so much easier than caring.

"Are you only with me because I look like him?" he asked, making sure his tone sounded like he was playing with you instead of really curious.

"No!" you replied, faster than you expected. "First of all, I'm not with you. Secondly, no, Freddie," — you used the nickname to mess with him — "I didn't pick you because of George. I picked you because you were there."

Fred stayed in silence, absorbing your answer.

You were suddenly lost in your thoughts, remembering that first kiss not so long ago. And then you remembered all of those lonely nights at the Three Broomsticks, where your only companies were Rosmerta and... Fred.

"You are always there."

"Yeah," Fred sighed, not sure of what you meant with that. However, he was still in jerk mode, and for that, his hand flew back to touch you, this time choosing more sensitive regions, like your belly, particularly, above the waistband of your jeans, a place that Fred had already learned to be one of your weak spots. "So, is now when you're doing what we had scheduled to do?"

You turned to face him, making it easier for him to reach your abdomen.

"Do you only think about that?"

He pretended to be thoughtful.

"Yes."

It came as a hell of a surprise when you were called to the Headmaster's office. You had been doing nothing — aside from escapades with Fred, and trying to get back to your studies, you haven't been doing much — so you didn't stall to see why they needed you.

You were even more surprised when the person awaiting fro you in the office was your mom.

"Hi, sweetie," she tried to smile but failed.

You didn't move since you opened the door and saw her, because her visit probably meant something you didn't want to be true.

"Is he dead?"

"What, sweetie? What did you say?" she asked.

"Dad. Is he...?" you whispered again, not brave enough to say it too loud.

"Oh, Merlin, no! That's why I'm here, actually. He called for you yesterday," she explained, stepping closer to you since you haven't been moving. "I sent you a letter, but you didn't reply, and I was so anxious..."

"Father called me? He said my name?" you were shocked because last time you saw him, he had no idea who you were.

"Yes, sweetie. I guess he remembers you," she smiled. "And me," she added.

"Can I see him?" you were fighting tears at this point.

"Of course, sweetie! That's why I'm here," she smiled, and opened her arms, knowing very well that all you wanted to do was bury your face on her chest, just like when you were little and scared. But this time, all you felt was happiness.

Returning to Hogwarts was hard. Not because you were sad — Merlin, that had been your best weekend ever! You father was almost completely recovered, although now and then he was saying some gibberish.

It was hard to come back because you wished you'd stayed longer with your dad, but your mom knew you needed to finish your school year before anything else.

A conversation that you had with your father kept replaying in your mind since you walked in the school. It was before you left when he encouraged you to enjoy your life because he wished he had enjoyed his more — especially when he thought he was dying, having Death Eaters play with his mind.

So when you saw George in the hallway, you knew you had to do something about your whole starstruck situation.

"Hey!" you called him.

"Hi, y/n," he faced you, a smile appearing in his lips. "Haven't seen you all weekend."

"I had to be away. Dad's stuff," you really didn't want to tell him about it right there. "Anyway... I don't know how to say this, but I've been feeling incredibly confident lately, so here it goes... Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You had no idea how you manage to say it. Perhaps pranking someone together does change a person, but while you waited for his reply, George didn't seem so hard to talk to.

"You want to go out... with me?" he played with his hair while saying it.

"Yep," you gulped, suddenly regretting you recently discovered confidence.

"Okay," he frowned for a second before smiling lightly. "Three Broomsticks, Wednesday?"

"Perfect. See you there?"

He shook his head in response, then turned and walked away. You stayed there, expecting a wave of happiness to come, but it never did. That's odd, you thought, before heading to your dorm, which, weirdly enough, you had missed.

When you pushed the door open, you saw the two figures sitting on your bed, as if they had been waiting for you for a long time. Jess and Casey looked at you as you walked n, with sympathetic smiles on their faces.

"What are you two doing here?" you asked, but you weren't mad. Just curious.

You had missed them too.

"I'm here to apologize. Should've done it sooner, but you didn't allow me," said Casey, getting up and stepping closer to you. "I now know your father is better, but you were right, that letter could have something horrible written on it and had no right reading it."

You stared at her, unconsciously reaching for her hand, anxious to meet her hot touch again. You were still happy, of course, but that talk made you bit sentimental.

"I'm sorry, y/n," she said, allowing you to hug her and hugging you back in the way only she knew how. Jess jumped out of bed and embraced the two of you; although you couldn't see her face, you'd bet she was smiling and crying at the same time.

The three of you stayed like that for a while.

"But, thank Merlin, he's okay now," Casey continued, slowly pulling away from the group hug.

"How do you..."

"Fred told us," said Jess, sitting back on your bed and suggesting you two did the same.

"Fred? Fred Weasley? How did he know?" you were completely startled.

"He asked about you. The three of us were confused because, well, he was right, nobody had seen you," Jess explained. "Long story short, McGonagall told him about your dad, and he told us."

You gulped, taking in that new information. Fred worried about you, that was new. Well, you did leave with no warning, but for a not-a-friend with benefits, you never consider he would care if you disappeared.

"Did he say anything else?" you rounded, suddenly worried he could have told them about your little escapades.

"Should him? Your father is okay, right?" Casey entered a worried-mom mood, and Jess seemed to be concerned too.

"My father is getting better, yes," you replied, but now it was too late. They were curious, you sighed, knowing very well that, as your best friends, they had all the right to know what was going on. "I may — or may not — have started a no-strings-attached relationship with Fred Weasley."

"You did what??" Casey widened her eyes towards you.

You spend half an hour explaining to the girls what was going on in your sex life, and they were good listeners, never interrupting unless you paused. You missed those girly talks so much that you wondered how you managed to spend weeks not talking to them.

"Wait. But your date for Wednesday is George?" asked Jess, clearly confused with the end of your story.

"I never had the guts before," you said, remembering how only the idea of asking George out would've made you weak in the knees a year ago.

"But you like Fred," she stated, convinced she was correct.

"What? No. Why did you...? Merlin, no," you rambled. You thought you had made it clear that being around Fred longer than necessary made your stomach sick and everything.

Jess and Casey exchanged looks as if they knew something you didn't.

"Fred's repugnant. He still calls me Duff, can you believe it? I mean, 'hello, honey, if I'm such the disgusting, ugly friend, why do you sleep with me?' " you said, laughing with yourself, imagining you facing Fred and telling him that. But the girls kept with their suspicious stares. "I did explain what is Duff, right?"

"You did," said Casey.

"Still not convinced you don't like Fred, though," added Jess, raising a brow towards you.

"I don't! Besides, now, I don't need him. I'm going on a date with his brother, and my father is fine. I have no worries," you reminded them, getting up from your bed. "Well, maybe one problem. I still need better grades."

"That I can help," said Casey, allowing her nerdy Ravenclaw shine.

You tried to corner Fred the whole Tuesday, but he seemed to be nowhere to be found, until after dinner, when you approached him when he was leaving. Thankfully, he was alone.

"So you are back," he said, looking you up and down in that way that only he knew. You looked around the hallway, scared that students leaving the Great Hall could hear you two talking, so you gesticulated for him to follow you to the broom closet — coincidently, where it all started was going to be its end too.

"Fred, we need to talk," you said, closing the door behind you and trying to find the light switch.

"You finally realized?" he sounded hopeful, with a playful smile on his lips.

"Realized what?"

He was set back with your response. Fred was thinking of something else when he asked you that, but he wasn't going to let you win. Although you really didn't have any idea what he was talking about.

"Realized you can't live without me."

"HA! Very funny, Weasley," you said, rolling your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, expecting you to do what you generally did in that closet, and, even though, his perfume made you lose your senses for a second (that didn't use to happen before, did it?).

"Well, I brought you here because... You see, we aren't doing this anymore," you swallowed after saying it — it was as if a knife was held in your neck.

He leaned in, looking down at you. His playful smile was long gone.

"You want to do it the right way. I get it," he said, pressing his lips together for a pause. "We could just jump to the fun part."

"Fun part? There isn't a...", but you weren't able to finish. His lips met yours mid-phrase, and as usual, you couldn't care about anything else but his lips.

What was the thing I need to tell him? Never mind now.

Your hands were playing with his hair, but something was different this time. There was still an urge — one that shouldn't be there, giving that you had no problems to forget right now — but you two were acting slowly, appreciating every touch.

When with Fred, you never felt ashamed of your body, but somehow this time you were very self-conscious, afraid that he wouldn't like you. Which was stupid — he had been... with you for too long to now started caring about your form.

What you didn't know what was that, if anything, he was finding you even more beautiful tonight, with the weak light of the closet highlighting every gorgeous curve of your body.

While you two undressed (with his lips away from yours), you were able to remember you shouldn't be there, snogging him and well, about to do other things with him. You had gone there to end this thing.

You sighed, too perplexed at the view of the ginger boy's body. The light was also highlighting his best spots.

A good-bye, you concluded with yourself. You were allowing yourself one last night, before staying away from Fred.

And if it was going to be a good-bye, you were sure you wanted to make it the best yet.

When you asked George out, he had been puzzled, and really scared of what to do next.

You had never jumbled him with Fred before — and after spending so much time with his twin doing Merlin knows what he expected you to never do it.

He thought it was rather cute that you took the first step and asked Fred out. Well, you did confuse the twin, but George assumed you probably were too nervous with your own feelings.

So using his best "hey, brother, this is gonna sound funny" voice, he went to find Fred to tell him that he had a date with the girl he had pining over for the last month.

George had never seen Fred say no to other girls, neither had George seen Fred stay in the castle for a Friday night, then a skip a Hogsmeade trip. You had changed Fred, even though George was sure Fred had not noticed it yet.

"What is it, George?" Fred asked, anxious to leave and meet you, no matter where you could be. He had heard that you had just got back in the castle and he just... he wanted to make sure you were alright.

"y/n, she... well," George nervously giggled. "She mixed us. She thought I was you."

"Really?" Fred was not expecting at this stage for you to mix him with his brother.

"Yeah, and hm, this is funny," George gulped before continuing. "I think she asked you out. On a date."

"She what??"

"Yeah, I guess she was on a rush, because of her father, and she said something about feeling confident," George went on. "Anyway, I said yes because I knew you'd have said yes. It's Wednesday. At the Three Broomsticks."

Fred stared at his brother as if he had solved all the problems in the world.

"She really did that?"

George shook his head yes and pointed out: "Don't mention she mixed us. It will probably make her feel worse."

"Are you sure she thought you were me?" Fred asked, overthinking it.

"Well, of course. Why else would y/n ask me out?"

You had to borrow a foundation from Jess (your skin tones were not so similar, but it was enough) because on the last night, Fred had exaggerated a little.

He never left a mark on his body, but yesterday he had overcome himself. As the brush rubbed the foundation on your neck, you remembered the night before.

"You are mine, Duff," he said, between one hickey and another. "Just mine."

Unintentionally, you lost yourself in thought, your mind continuing its replay from the night before, as you brushed your sensitive skin.

"Only I can make you feel this way; only my touch makes you shiver," whispered Fred, and incredibly, it was true. But he was Fred, and it couldn't go on.

So when it was over, and you both were too tired, you got dressed and stared at him, knowing what was coming next.

"Thank you, Fred, seriously. For everything," he watched you as you gulped nervously. "But this really can't go on. I have a date tomorrow."

"I know."

You were about to leave, but you immediately turned, facing him with wide eyes.

"You asked George out. I know," he seemed sad. And you have never seen Fred sad before. You wanted to do something, but what could you do really?

"Fred, I..."

"Look, you had your good-bye, y/n. You can get out now," Fred said. "Go hide. It's what you do, right?"

"Hey, don't turn this on me!"

"Somehow, this is my fault?" Fred asked while putting on his pants. Although angry, he didn't seem scary. "What you want me to do, y/n? I'm the jackass womanizer, aren't I? Go get the better twin."

"Fred Weasley!" you shouted his name, trying to shut him up. "We were never a couple; don't act as if you care now! Don't act like you're jealous!"

"Why? Because I can't be jealous of you? I can't care about you?" he shouted back.

"Care about me? You call me Duff, Weasley. All the damn time! How am I supposed to know you care about me if you keep reminding me how ugly, fat and disgusting I am?"

Silence fell upon the two of you.

That was the knife in your neck all along. The stupid nickname, it all came back to it. Fred had no idea how much power that nickname had over you.

"I never meant it that way, y/n," he said, gulping slowly.

"No?" you asked sarcastically. "Really? I remember you telling me I have hotter friends."

"But that was before!" he protested.

"Before what?" you asked, but his reply never came. The words he couldn't say died in his chest — buried forever. "See you around, Weasley, " you said, before opening the door and leaving, without looking back.

You shook your head, slowly coming back to reality. The hickeys were enough hidden. It didn't look perfect, but the Three Broomsticks had terrible lighting, so it would be okay.

You wanted to stay in, curled up in bed, playing in repeat your good-bye, and blame yourself for that sadness in your chest, but you were too embarrassed to dump George.

The place was crowded — Hogwarts older students were practically all there, having the time of their lives on the dance floor. You wished George could never find you, so you went to the counter to hide behind a mug of butterbeer.

"Hey there, pretty," said Madam Rosmerta, who have missed you all those nights without you. "Butterbeer?"

"You know it," you said, about to throw her a coin when someone pressed a hand on your shoulder.

"Make it two," he said, and he didn't even need to speak to you know who it was. That cheap perfume was going to be the death of you. "It's on me," he told you, tossing his own coin to Rosmerta who disappeared to get the mugs.

"He's not coming," he added a second later, hating the silence around you two.

"I figured it. When I saw you," you explained, gulping.

Rosmerta brought two mugs back, and both of you took a sip from it, unsure of what to say next.

It wasn't like you two fought last night because you hated each other. In fact, it was probably the complete opposite, but both looked like stupid cowards, afraid of your own feelings.

"Look, I..." he started, but you interrupted him, placing your hand on his arm over the counter.

"Let me say this first," you said, locking your eyes on his. "I shouldn't have asked your twin out. Even if we were just friends; what I did was a jerk move."

"You liked him first," Fred pointed out, trying to defend you from yourself.

You chuckled. "Oh, Merlin, no. I thought he had a pretty face," you explained, tilting your head towards him, and he understood your joke right away, joining in the laughter. "And he seemed like a nice guy. Like, huh, I thought he could treat me nicely," you looked away from his big eyes, facing the shelves with liquor.

"But?"

"What?" you asked him, turning to face him once again.

"I feel like there was a 'but'."

You smiled.

"But you also have a pretty face, and recently, you've come to treat me nice too," you said, and he pressed his lips together while slowly shaking his head up and down. "Well, actually, if it's just between you and me, your face is prettier."

He raised his brows. "Is it?"

"And your body too," you added, just to make him smile.

"Is mine bigger?" he asked, back to his normal joker self.

You pushed him lightly by the shoulder, not hard enough for him to fall off the stool.

"Never saw his, sorry," you decided to tease, and you both giggled.

"I'm sorry. About the Duff thing and all," he said, swallowing. "I kept the nickname because I thought it was cute. If I knew it bothered you so much, I'd have stopped. And I wouldn't have used it during sex."

"I'm okay with it now, I guess," you said. "It wasn't that bad hearing it during sex if I'm honest."

You tilted your head to the left, biting your tongue to not laugh because it was not funny. But Fred just had a way to ease your mood.

You thought silence was going to hunt you two again when Fred spoke.

"Is this the part where you admit you have feelings for me?" he smirked, placing his hands on your knees, relaxing you even more.

"Maybe," you chuckled. "Is this the part where you admit you have feelings for me?"

"Yes," he said, surprising you. "I have feelings for you."

"Well, I have feelings for you too, Freddie," you smiled, passing your fingers through his strong arms.

"You're not gonna forget that nickname, are you?" he faced away while asking.

"Nope."

"Fine by me, Duff," he replied, messing with you too. He then leaned closer, pressing his lips on yours, and it didn't take long for his hands to find your waist and bring you as closer to him as the stools allowed.

"But we are going slower this time, Weasley," you warned, parting your lips for just a second.

He smiled in the kiss.

"It's always better that way," he replied, probably remembering the soft, slow sex from last night because you were sure remembering that too.

You slapped his arm just strong enough for him to pout, but you kept kissing him anyway. When you two kissed, nothing else mattered— it was only the two of you in the world.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley #Fred and George Weasley #Fred and George #george weasley x reader #harry potter #the duff

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momentsbeforemass · 3 years

Text

Night

(by request, my homily from Sunday)

There’s no other way to say it, this week was awful. It absolutely sucked.

Because this week, a friend got the diagnosis. The same thing his father had.

This week, a husband said goodbye to his wife. And children buried their mother.

This week, eight months of sobriety didn’t make it to nine.

This week, the divorce was final.

And that’s just the stuff I know about. I’m sure you could add to the list.

When that’s going on in our lives, it’s easy to get tunnel vision. Actually, it’s kind of hard not to.

Because those are the things in life that hit us the hardest.

They don’t just knock us down. They keep hitting us, when we’re down.

When that’s happening, it’s hard to see much of anything else. Let alone an end to it.

And because we can’t see an end to it, it’s like there’s this unspoken assumption that you and I make. That it’s always going to be this way.

It’s so bad, that it’s never going to change.

We may never form the thought, much less say it out loud. But the way we think, the way we talk, the way act? All of it says that we’re telling ourselves – it’s always going to be like this. It’s always going to suck.

When that’s where we’re at emotionally, psychologically, spiritually? It’s easy for us to miss the point of today’s Gospel, the Beatitudes.

Okay, well what is all that, “Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God…Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh,” stuff about?

The Beatitudes are just a long-form version of the 30th Psalm. The one that says, “weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

What do you and I know about night? It doesn’t last. Even north of the Arctic Circle, where the sun never rises during the Polar Night? That only lasts for three months. Even the longest, darkest night comes to an end.

The problem that you and I have is that it’s hard to see at night. We’re blinded by the darkness of everything that hurts, of everyone who hurt us.

Which means that when it’s night, it’s easy to feel like we’re headed in the wrong direction. Or like we’re just stuck.

When it’s like that for us, when things aren’t getting any better, it can feel like God doesn’t care. Like God has abandoned us.

But when we do that to ourselves, when you and I get lost in those feelings, we’re missing something that God has shown us over and over. Both in the Bible, and in our own lives.

Just because you’re a good person doesn’t mean that night won’t fall. Everyone has nights in their life.

Let’s go Old Testament. Think of a good and godly person, like Ruth. When Ruth’s husband died, she lost their farm, their savings, everything. Left to care for her mother-in-law Naomi with nothing, it would have been easy for her fall into despair. To give up. To get lost in the night.

But Ruth understood this principle, that even the longest night has an end. Instead of giving up, Ruth trusted God to see her through to morning. And God did.

You know the rest of the story. Ruth ended up marrying Boaz, a very wealthy man. And their child, Obed, would be the grandfather of King David and an ancestor of Jesus.

Okay, but why does stuff like that even happen in the first place?

It’s the cumulative effect on our world of generations of sin. The creation that God made and called good, has been deeply messed up by us and everyone who went before us, through sin.

Their actions, and ours, have consequences. You can’t pour a gallon of gasoline in a well and pretend that the water will still taste good.

Which means what? It means that you may be dealing with some of the hardest things in life right now, not because you’ve done anything wrong. Not because God’s mad at you. Not because God’s forgotten you. It’s just life in our messed up world.

As Jesus tells us, “the rain falls on the just and the unjust.”

Which means that one thing hasn’t changed. The God who loves you in the good times, in the bright, sunlit, best moments of life? Is the God who loves you in the bad times, in the darkest, longest, loneliest nights of life.

And whether you can see it or not, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now, God is still with you through it all.

It’s just night. And even the darkest night gives way to morning. Through the love of the God who stays.

This is heart of our living faith. Know this and hold on to it:

No matter how much it hurts, God will always hold you close.

Even if you can’t feel Him right now, God will never leave you.

No matter how dark the night, God will always see you through to morning.

This is why, even when things are at their very worst, we know that Julian of Norwich was right.

No matter how it feels right now, we can say with absolute certainty (as she did) that in the end, “All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of thing will be well.”

Sunday’s Readings

#Awful #Worst #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #God's Love #Night #With You #All will be well #Julian of Norwich #Death #Loss #Moments Before Mass

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pennys-th0ughts · 5 years

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Dirty Secret 👄

Thin fibers of flesh were getting in the way, getting stuck in-between my fangs making my meal a little hard to chew. The blood flowing out of my mouth through the corners of my lips would turn into big drops that will finally crash against the wet floor. That night I was feeling hungrier than ever and I had already eaten two little humans who weren’t lucky enough to realize what I was until it was too late.

After stripping the flesh from all the bones, I licked my lips and the tip of my claws so as not to waste even the smallest drop of blood. Last little human tasted sweeter than the previous one and I was still feeling hungry so I decided to take advantage of the night time and go out for something else.

I took one of the longest tunnels to get out of the sewers. It would take me some time to exit the place but I will definitely get where I wanted to go. The woods that preceded the quarries weren’t so big but it did have some animals I could surely feed on. The taste wasn’t the same but I was getting used to it, as long that could keep me away from human adults and their strange noisy objects since last encounter with one of them costed me multiple wounds. Knowing how badly those things could hurt me I decided to start avoiding them by eating preys I was able to hide the remains. So mainly the menu consisted in squirrels, wild cats and sometimes stray dogs, and also not too strays, a handful of colorful collars were the proof of it.

The night was nice and the place I was sitting in was quite calm, the different sounds coming from the darkest corners of the woods were always fascinating to me. Despite I have already spent almost a decade in this small town, its habitants and every detail kept surprising me. It was like a never ending discovery and the mere fact of learning new things made me even smarter.

All of sudden little flying beings began appearing out of nowhere, getting out from among the bushes and the trees. One part of their bodies had a strange dim light and combined with their erratic zig-zagging dance, the view had turned into some kind of silent choreography. I stood still and remained quiet enjoying that natural show until I hear something approaching. My auto-preservation instinct forced me to hide behind the bushes and stay still, slowing my breathing to the point it was hardly hearable, even for me. Stealth mode was one of my biggest and most useful weapons and being able to look in the dark made me deadlier. I got out from my hiding spot and began almost crawling towards the sound until it got clearer.

The splashing came from the lake located at the feet of the quarries, many humans from almost all ages but mostly young ones used to swim there during the day and some at night. In this occasion there was only one human in the water, a female one. She seemed to be a teenager since her body wasn’t from an adult but she didn’t looked like a child either and the complexity of realizing how old she was had already triggered something inside of me. The mixture of curiosity and hunger always ended up badly for my prey but really good for me but there it was that fucking thing keeping me away from pouncing on my next meal and tear every single limb of her skinny body apart. “¿What the fuck is wrong with you, Pennywise?” I asked myself feeling as if I had frozen on the spot not being able to move forward. I shook my head trying to pull myself together and focus on what I had been waiting most part of the day and what I had so close now.

After waiting for some long minutes I finally heard the human getting out of the lake. I poke my head out from behind the tree I was hiding and got a whole picture of her naked anatomy. Her perky breasts, her tiny waist and her curvy hips were delicious, not mentioning the rest of the details that her body offered. I didn’t notice I had started drooling and the upper part of my pants was getting wet because of it. The girl in front of me was highly attractive and judging by her physical appearance I could smell she was transitioning in some kind of physiologic phase that was making her even tastier. I realized that when she got out of the water and the cool breeze woke up her seemingly soft nipples, and the water running down her back looking for shelter, ended up slipping between her firm butt cheeks.

My predator instinct was been slowly blindfolded by some weird feeling that was rising high my current arousal to the point I saw a part of me having some sort of physical reaction to it. I looked away to cool myself off since the hot waves crushing against my eyes were preventing me to think straight and for a hunter to lose concentration was the first step to failure. So I took a deep breath and once I cleared my head off things I gathered what was left of my will and aimed to the target. I was ready to jump on her but she suddenly turned around to look the surroundings and as quick my confidence got over me as quick it faded away.

She just finally put her clothes on and lied down on the sand. “There is your chance, Pennywise” that dark voice spoke again “What are you waiting for…?” It was seductive and yet I felt compelled to stop hearing it, at least just for one second but it was painfully hard to ignore so I quit to that foolish idea and did what I was the best at. I began with the hunting by shape shifting into a more common form since I had other plans for this new prey and I didn’t want to freak her out. The changing process always hurt since sometimes my bones had to break, my skin had to tear and many other deformations a human body couldn’t possibly bear.

A not so distant feline sound caught the girl’s attention and took her out of her superficial sleep with a start. She looked around alarmed and yet curious not knowing where the sound was coming from. She hurried up on picking up her things and started walking towards the noise. I lured her to the darkest part of the woods with the meowing of a little cat since I knew those kind of animals were the ones humans preferred most of the time. She followed the crying as is if it was bread crumbles to a place where I was sure she wouldn’t be able to escape. Once she got there Istopped making sounds and waited for her to come closer. Then the little feline yellow eyes began getting bigger and meaner, the supposedly small cat started growing up until it reached my natural height of six feet three inches.

As bigger her fear was growing as wider my smile was turning, I could finally sense she was beyond terrified and that made it a lot easier, she had opened the door for me and I only needed to get inside her mind and play with her terrors as much as I pleased. I got out from inside the tunnel entrance and wrapped her with rounds and rounds of spider web until she wasn’t able to move or scream and finally dragged her into my lair.

She made a quite rampage the first day of being captive and I wasn’t expecting less, humans playing hard to get were interesting and made things exciting. She also spent the first night screaming tirelessly but her efforts were in vain since the odds of being heard were nil. After five days of being with her she started to behave and make fewer scandals so I considered the possibility of removing the chain she was wearing in one of her ankles and let her wander around until one day she spent it mostly sitting down. The wound in her foot was getting infected and I had to do something about before it could get worse I so gathered all the patience left in me and began the tedious job of chasing her. She made huge efforts to avoid me and ran away limping as fast as her little legs let her until she stopped running. Subjugation was my mainly tool with any prey I used to hunt but this time I tried my best to be gentle so I hold her down against the floor as gently as I could and spoke to her in the calmest way possible. I was ready for her to kick my face or my chest as she managed to do so last time I got close but she didn’t and let me take care of her foot. I wrapped the scratches of her ankle with a clean piece of cloth and let her go.

I was getting ready to leave to get something to eat when I heard her say “Thank you” with this shy tone of voice of hers that shook that unknown feeling inside of me, again. I turned around and she was still sitting there looking at me in a very uncommon way so I knelt in front of her, then something unexpected happened. She reached out her small hand and brushed my hair with her thin fingers, she was shivering like a leaf but she didn’t hide her fear. My pulse went from zero to one hundred beats per second when the palm of her hand touched my face. Another hot wave crushed against my face making me shake my head and jingle the little bells of my sleeve, I stood up feeling upset and left her there, I had to go and fetch something for us to eat otherwise I would start considering her as the main dish.

A common saying humans had is that time can change things and it was the first time I couldn’t agree more to their mortal and superficial wisdom. A month later I already knew what my pretty human name was, how old she was and many other trivial details she had decided to reveal to me. I was feeling way more comfortable being close to her and her sudden pranks which I usually used to be the victim. It costed me a lot and took me lots of power of will to get to control myself and the instinct of wanting to rip her arms off but in the end I finally managed to do so. There were days that being around her was though than other since the sweet metallic smell of her blood was hard to resist.

One rainy night we were sharing the same old mattress close to the fire as we got used to, Bella was once again in those days in which I felt strongly attracted to her. She just has taken a bath and she smelled like rain and wet leafs. Bella's hair was as red as the fire, the freckles ornamenting her cheekbones and the arch of her snub nose were like tiny drawings on the wet dirt, but what made her even prettier were her big shinny green eyes.

Bella was sleeping carelessly leaving her innocent and yet lustful curves exposed. I watched her for long minutes that seemed to last forever until I couldn’t help myself and quietly sneaked up behind her. I was already feeling way too aroused to not listen to the poor logic side of my brain when I found myself holding on to one of her smooth breasts. I began squeezing it gently until it got deliciously turgid, and then I buried my face in her neck and tasted it with the tips of my bifid tongue. I felt compelled to play a little with her mind and make her dreams a bit more perverse just to tip the scales in my favor and apparently it worked when I heard her moaning. I got my hand under her clothes and rubbed her nipple until it reacted the way I wanted, she then pressed her pelvis against the mattress looking for some pleasurable comfort.

There is when I was coming in. I softly pulled her clothes up, opened her legs and got inside of her in the most delicately way possible to not to hurt her. A couple of tentacles that were part of my mating anatomy had the job to keep her legs open and rub her most sensible spot to keep her wet. Bella didn’t fight me back even when she was aware of what I was doing and what is more, she got on her belly and offered herself completely to me. Seeing her so submissive and enjoying being inside of her was drivingme nuts until the point I started scratching the wooden floor. My growling and her moans were intoxicating and I finally lost my temper when she began begging me for more. I tried my best and made a huge effort to last longer so she could cum, that would be the best opportunity I could ever have to release my seed and preserve my species. Bella finally reached her climax and her whole body shivered with pleasure, I let myself go along with her feeling exhausted but satisfied.

We cuddled in silence feeling each other’s erratic breathing. When calmness took over her, she got close to my ear and whispered “I have been waiting for you for almost a thousand years, Pennywise”, she grinned and finished “You have chosen well, and together we will baptize this world with blood and terror”.

To my surprise I have just founded my twin soul…

Image: Hardcore Poetry IG

#penny's though #pennywise #short story

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dicebox · 5 years

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The Pit

How you have fallen from heaven, O morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cut down to the ground, O destroyer of nations. Isaiah 14:12

The demon was toying with her in the darkness

A hissing cackle echoed down the dim tunnels, sounding from every shadowed corner at once. The arms of Jillian’s coat were shredded and bloodied, the skin and muscle underneath only marginally less so. The lamp in her offhand swayed with her heavy breaths, but her gun was still held rigidly aimed up.

“Word-speaker.” The demon’s voice echoed down the tunnel as Jillian delved deeper into the darkness. “Light-bringer. I knew you would return."

Jillian’s breath hitched quietly as she forced a rigid calm upon herself, shining her lantern about, but there was nothing to be found in the empty mine tunnel. Her wounds ached and stung, but with only two rounds left in her revolver, she had not even found a hint of the demon’s spilled blood upon the stone. The only sign of life to her eyes was the dried blood of long dead miners, any further sign of their bodies utterly lost. But grim resolve, and a thrum of heavenly fury in her heart, pushed her onwards.

"Tell me, how far does the trail of blood reach this time?” Its voice was dangerously eloquent. Almost human. “How deep did you soak the ground?”

“THE DARKNESS IS NO WARD AGAINST HEAVEN’S LIGHT.” The Word boomed in return from Jillian, as she whirled about yet again, firing into the darkest of the shadows. The radiance burned inside her, flaring up as the darkness deepened.

But the burst of golden light only illuminated an empty mine shaft, just long enough to bare the shadowed outline of something monstrous scuttling along the cavern wall, only for it to disappear as the darkness swiftly returned.

No matter how true her aim had been, every single shot had only struck stone.

“Ohohohoho… my heavenly friend, I do not come from the darkness. My origin is not so far from yours. Did He not tell you?“ The demon wheezed with a mocking laugh. "It is the light that gives me shape. You see things so… how do humans say… so black and white. That is why the humans flee from you, is it not? Is your radiance not too shining? Too pure for their fickle souls? Will you not burn through this one soon enough?”

Before Jillian could retort, whether by her own voice or otherwise, a sudden wind rippled through the tunnel. There was the briefest sound of a heavy footstep against the stone floor before claws raked across her arm once more. She staggered, hissing a curse, spinning about with her lantern raised as she tried in vain to find the creature. But the tunnel was empty once more, shadows flickering across the walls, a horned, hunched form flickering along the stone, swiftly disappearing into the shadows once more.

"The light cannot touch me.” It taunted. “Your bearer’s weak flesh-mind cannot comprehend me. Its ancestors paid tribute to me in blood and gold, and you think it will save the rest of its pathetic kind?”

“You can’t hide from me, demon!” Jillian shouted, in her own voice. She didn’t have time to think about the demon’s taunts, even if she were to be so foolish as to give them credence. The steady, wet dripping of blood soaking her coat’s sleeves was an aching reminder of what little time she had left. If she faltered now, she would suffer the same fate as the miners who had awoken this creature. Soon enough, the demon would no longer see fit to merely draw out her pain.

“Quiet, human! I do not speak to you, I speak to it! The light hiding in your bestial excuse for a soul! You are nothing but a vessel! I will carve it from your chest and that power will rebuild my kingdom.”

“I AM THE WORD. THERE IS NO ALPHA, THERE IS NO OMEGA. THERE IS ONLY I, THE FULFILLMENT OF THE NEW COVENANT.”

The power swelled up fuller in Jillian’s chest, until she could feel as if her ribs were pushing out against her chest, as if there was something inside her heart desperate to be free. Desperate to strike out. Light flared around her, from nowhere and everywhere, but the darkness around her only swelled through the tunnel in turn, rising above her, and starting to collapse down.

As the darkness crested up against the ceiling and crashed down upon Jillian, the light still blazed defiantly, and she began to suffocate.

With her last breath caught tightly in her chest, Jillian turned about yet again, but still she could not see anything but the darkness, just barely held back by her meager lantern, and a burning, heavenly light radiating from herself. The shadows roiled against that light, like a sea of darkness, and every tremor of it crashing onwards left her chest searing with pain. She couldn’t tell whether it was her lungs withering from lack of breath, or her heart bursting at its seams from the fire within.

"Do you not know the brightest fire casts the longest shadow, light-bringer?” The demon’s mocking snickers echoed around her. “You have no power here, word-speaker.”

The shadows crawled across the tunnel, pushing the light back inch by inch. The sound of heavy footsteps drew closer.

With her last breaths, Jillian whispered to herself, “I walk through the shadow of the valley of death… I fear no evil, for Thou are with me.“

She closed her eyes and reached inwards. Grasped gently at the light within herself. Wrapped her fingers around it, forcing it to snuff itself out, until there was only a spark hidden in her hand. Her chest burned all the more painfully.

The only light left was the lantern in her hand. Jillian raised it up and threw it onto the floor. The clatter of broken metal and glass echoed through the tunnel.

Her eyes opened, but it was as if they hadn’t. There was nothing before her but a void of black. She couldn’t even see the gun still gripped tightly in her hand.

But the pressure crushing at her lungs faded and she forced herself not to gasp too desperately. The darkness surrounded her wholly, chilling her now that the fire was no longer raging from herself, but it was no longer clashing against the light, with her frail form trapped between the two forces.

A hungering hiss echoed around her. And then, the sound of a heavy footstep. Another footstep, behind her. The first hint of a sickly warm breath upon the back of her neck.

Jillian whirled about, drawing her knife, and swiftly burying the blade through thick scale, and deep into the meat underneath. The demon howled, frozen in surprise for the briefest of moments. Even so close, Jillian couldn’t see its face, but she could feel hot, stinking breath upon her face, its maw looming over her. That was where she fired her last bullet.

There was no invocation, save for the crack of gunpowder. The demon’s shriek swiftly fell to a wet, choking gurgle. Claws fumbled against her shoulders, but with no strength left to bite down into her flesh.

"If you were so powerful,” Jillian hissed, her voice tight with pain and fury, “You wouldn’t be hiding down here like a rat. You still hide from the light of the sun. From the light of Heaven."

“We…are legion.” The demon wheezed weakly before her, barely able to speak through its shattered maw. “I… shall return.”

"Begone.” She whispered in her own voice, and tore the blade down through its chest. Foul blood splattered across her, but she paid it no mind as she heard the demon topple back.

Then, silence.

With a ragged breath out, the last of her strength gave way, and Jillian slumped to her knees. Her gun fell from her hand as she strained to draw in a heaving breath. Even without the demon’s malign presence it was so, so cold. The darkness lingered, still sapping at her strength, draining her as surely as her bloodied wounds, urging her to collapse, and never rise again. She shivered hard, hugging at herself, eyes twisted shut as she struggled to focus. The fire in her heart was weak, guttered by the demon’s shadow and her own efforts to restrain its burning radiance.

But a spark was enough. Jillian forced in a hoarse breath.

“LET THERE BE LIGHT.”

And there was light.

#Fic #Deadlands #jillian cain #submission

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littlej097 · 5 years

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For Those in My Heart - Chapter 13 “Gifts

Prompt: Regina realizes what gifts her children truly are

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Regina felt that she had been pretty blessed when it came to her children. She hadn’t given birth to any of them, but that didn’t make them any less hers. She had found a quote while scrolling through Facebook one day that always stuck with her. It read, “I didn’t give you the gift of life, but life gave me the gift of you.” Regina truly felt that in her heart. Each one of her children were gifts to her. Henry was the gift that she had wished and hoped for for years. Initially, she hadn’t known that a child was something that she desired, rather needed, in her life. However, as soon as the man at the adoption agency placed Henry in her arms, something changed inside of her. Following the enactment of her curse, Henry was the first and only person to love her for a long time. Everytime that Henry looked up at her with those big brown eyes of his, she simply melted. His toothy grin made her heart flutter and when he first uttered the word, “Mama,” Regina could barely breathe because the happiness that she felt was overwhelming. Henry was the one to make her believe in herself, to make her realize that she could have happiness. He had turned the Evil Queen back to who she really was… Regina. He was her ultimate gift, her little prince.

Roland was the gift that fell into her lap, a complete surprise that she never knew she wanted. After sending Henry to New York with Emma, Regina had felt lost. The only person that loved her was gone and Regina didn’t know what to do with herself. It had taken a little boy with brown curly hair, chocolate brown eyes and a heart of gold to help her realize that she still had a reason to live. He was sweet like Henry and so innocent, but Roland was also very different. When Henry was little, he had practically been afraid of his own shadow, but Roland wasn’t like that. Sure, the little boy had fears but he was also the bravest six year old that she had ever met. Roland came into her life when she was broken, when she felt as though at any moment she’d break into a million pieces and simply float away. Roland had kept her grounded during that time. He made her smile and laugh. Roland brought her so much joy during a time when she felt that joy was never a feeling she’d experience again. Above all, that little boy was never afraid to stand up for her. To Roland, she was never the Evil Queen. He didn’t care what she had done in the past. She was his ‘“Gina” and after a while she was his Mama, no matter what others said. He would always protect her. He would always be her little knight.

Addy was the gift that she hadn’t wanted. She hadn’t asked for her and for a while, she didn’t want the little girl in her life. At first, Regina wanted nothing more than to make the little girl disappear, to return her. When Regina looked at Addy, she was reminded of something that she would never be able to give Robin...a child of their own. Regina had never considered her infertility when she met Robin. She didn’t need too. They had their two perfect boys and that was what mattered. It had taken a little girl with Robin’s sandy blonde hair and her sister’s crystal blue eyes to make her realize how much she had given up all those years ago when she drank that potion. Pain was all that Regina saw when she looked at Addy for the longest time...that was until she let herself truly get to know the little stranger living in her house. From the first time Regina held the sweet girl in her arms, she had fallen in love with the baby girl and in that moment, she was just as much hers as Roland and Henry were. As Addy grew before her very eyes, Regina realized how different she was from either of the boys. Addy was independent. She didn’t want people to help her do things. She wanted to figure out how to do it on her. She conquered crawling and walking all on her own and on her own time. Addy also had quite the fiery temper. Regina believed it was in her genetics and that she had inherited it from Zelena. However, whenever, she said that all Robin could do was laugh and say, “Sure, honey, anything you say.” They both knew that Addy’s temper could be from Zelena but it could also be from Regina, a fact that the Queen herself would never admit to. Out of all her children, Addy reminded Regina the most of herself. Yes, she had her temper but she also had her heart. From the time she was a little girl, Regina had felt things with her whole heart and she felt them deeply. As she watched her daughter grow, Regina realized that her Addy was much like her. She had this perceptive ability to know when someone was hurting, especially when it was her mother. Holding Addy in her arms always seemed to be exactly what she needed to forget whatever was troubling her and make smile once more. She provided the same sense of comfort for the boys in her family whenever they needed it. When Addy was little, they had taken to calling her their little ladybug, mostly because of a toy that the little girl simply adored. However, after doing a little research, Regina had found that ladybugs symbolized good luck and fortune. That was what Addy had brought into their life. Regina had come to realize that she was the little blessing, the little bit of luck, that she had always desired in her life. No matter how big Addy grew, she would always be Regina’s little ladybug.

With each child that came into her life, Regina realized that she gained a little piece of herself back from the Evil Queen. Addy had given her back her heart. She had given her back the ability to open herself up to others, to love and be loved in return. Roland had given her back her courage. He had shown her that she didn’t need power to stand up for herself or others. He had shown her that true courage came from within. Henry had given her back her optimism, her belief in hope. In the darkest of times, Henry had been that light at the end of the tunnel for her. He had made her believe in herself and in the person that she could become. Together, they had created the mother that they knew. She was the mother who held them close when they were sad and dried their tears. She was the mother who cheered them on in all that they did. She was the mother who would love them, no matter what. They had been the ones to create her. They had chosen her to be there mother and Regina knew that she would never let her three little gifts down. She’d loved them until the end of time.

#once upon a time #outlawqueen #regina mills #robin hood #klainelover1997 #littlej097 #forthoseinmyheart

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morefinesse · 6 years

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My muse is dead. How is your muse reacting to it?

Reference to self-harm and suicide below, I reaaaaally wasn’t sure on how to post this, so I decided to submit it. I hope that’s okay!! TLDR: Ruby is a true friend and this drabble-meme thing is really tragic.

She stands there before his grave, solemn and quiet, a bouquet of flowers that she’s carefully collected in her hands, each with their own respective meaning. Ambrosia; amaryllis; bird-of-paradise; pink and white camellia; pink and red carnations; a white chrysanthemum; a dandelion; dead leaves; gloxinia; purple hyacinth; blue and yellow irises; lilly-of-the-valley; primrose; roses of dark crimson, dark pink, and red; sunflowers; sweet-peas, red and yellow tulips, blue and white violets and viscera. It’s late at night, the silver moon is high in the sky and the stars are twinkling like a million diamonds in the night sky; everyone else is asleep. Clementine visits his grave every night to pay her respects to the boy she loved with all of her heart.. or at least, what remained of it. She could still remember his dying moments, the blood that stained her fingers, as if it were yesterday.

Running at top speed through the forest, Clementine did not look back even once as she sprinted through the trees, even as her friends screamed for her to come back. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair-

Stupid girl. this world is unfair, don’t you see? You’re a weapon, girl, and weapons don’t weep, a voice said.

She had to get away. A violent roll of thunder and a clash of lightning danced across the sky, and soon, rain fell from the heavens. She slowed to a stop once she reached her destination: the school. Once she entered, she bolted toward her dormitory, pants and tormented breaths escaping her. Once she slammed the door behind her, every little movement Clementine Maria Jasmine Cree had made instantly stopped. It was like a clock, forever ticking, until all the gears had been shattered at once, and the clock had been stopped, frozen in time for an instant forever. The girl didn’t seem to be breathing for the longest moments, her eyes staring blankly at nothing. Voices, whispers, screams, nightmares, flashbacks, incidents, the scent of blood. The way he smiled at her, his vibrant laughter, the way he held her close to him at night whenever she was suffering from nightmares, the way he’d kissed her. He would never grow up to be a singer like he’d wanted, could never teach AJ piano lessons, or pick her up and twirl her around while they laughed before they leaned in for a kiss. tease Violet or Aasim or laugh his most wonderful laugh.

Everything rushed through her mind at once, like an infinite stream of memories that she couldn’t snap out of, that overloaded her systems and drowned out any reason. Louis was dead… and there was no more light.

She had wanted to laugh at her friends who told her the tragic news, who told her to let him go to the point where she’d felt a pair of strong arms drag her away from his body, so that they’d be able to get distance from the quickly approaching horde, claim that they were lying when they’d been telling her that he had been shot and bitten, that he’d lost too much blood, even while she held her dying boyfriend in her arms… but it all made sense. Everything made sense, and her senses never failed her, and she knew reality from illusion, deep, deep down. Her boyfriend was dead, and she could do nothing to ease his pain nor prevent his death.

She could only prevent him from turning with her own blade.

It was happening all over again.

The first thing indicating that the clockwork that was Clementine was still capable of ticking, were silent tears running from the corner of her eyes. Tears without sound, loaded with more agony than one single person should ever bear. Tears that showed shards of her dreams that had just now been broken. Shards of the future that she had dreamed of, hoped for, longed for, wished for, all running down her cheeks in streams, dropping from her chin onto the floor where she would never be able to retrieve them again.

Clementine’s hopes and dreams were gone, and so was the light in her eyes.

From there, Clementine started ticking faster than she ever had before. Unable to contain the memories, the misery, the pain, she got on her feet in a movement so unlike the girl’s normal self, swift, without reason, without motivation. It was an action of fury, frustration, desperation. The girl had gotten hold of the desk in her room, violently flipping it to the side, sending papers and everything else on it flying through the room, as the desk hit the floor with a loud bang, followed by the loudest, most heartbreaking scream the girl had ever let escape her lips. Hyperventilating, the girl tried to remain on her feet, but got dizzy, almost fell over, but barely managed to sit down onto her bed, almost fainting from the pure overload of emotion. It felt like her heart was going to stop beating at any one moment.

How long do I have left?

That’s when something snapped, and Clementine froze again. It started with a breath that got pulled in so deep, demanding so much willpower, that it had seemed surreal for the girl to pull herself back from where she was. It was a gasp of air, as if she had been drowning, and only barely managed to reach the surface in time. A few deep breaths followed, Clementine kept her eyes closed and shut tightly. The tears were still streaming, but at least she wasn’t panicking anymore. Instead, she seemed hopeless, devastated, broken.

Though she had prayed for the shiny happily ever after that surely awaited the two of them at the end of the long, dark tunnel of conflict that hung over them, their brightest moments happened during the darkest times. Death’s urgency. Fear of loss. A common enemy and a shared comfort in the face of violence. They were born in an era of peace and prosperity and raised in an era of darkness and despair. Their darkest moments would likely happen during the brightest of times.

It couldn’t last.

It didn’t.

She would have done it. She would have broken every convention, and damn the consequences. Hell, she would have left the school, left everything behind if it meant keeping Louis alive. She would have given up everything. She would give him everything she had. She would have given him the love he so desperately wanted. She would have broken every fucking rule in existence, just to continue as they had been. She would have given him anything just to see him smile again. She wanted to see him smile at her one more time, the one that made her heart flutter, she wanted to hold him while he slept peacefully in her arms and she played with his locks, she wanted to dance with him when they were in the dark and alone, away from the cruel world they lived in.

He saved her life so many times, both in body and spirit… and she couldn’t even owe him her end as thanks. She sat upon the cold bed, no longer with him, with a piece of glass in her hands, scraped out and hollow. She felt sick. She might not have breathed for a long time. For her entire life she’d been chasing a fleeting flicker of firelight… a little chance at hope… and what had she gotten in return? Even as she rose and fell over the years, after losing so many people close to her, nothing, no one, not even Lee, compared to the loss of her boyfriend.

And there she sat, in the dark room. The light was out. Silently, she curled in upon herself on the floor. It seemed at last that her fighting spirit was gone. It seemed as if days came and went without her moving from that one spot. How long had she been here for? She couldn’t say, nor could she bring herself to care. What was the point in living when everyone she loved had died? At some point, there was a knock on the door. It sounded as if it were underwater. The voice might have been Ruby’s or Tenn’s. She shut it out. In time, whoever it was went away. She remembered every single moment of her life, trying desperately to forget. Everything she had ever loved was cruelly taken away from her. If she could turn back time and change everything, from the apocalypse to the meaningless deaths… by hell she would. On and on it went. The pointless thinking… She didn’t know how much time passed, but in the confines of her dark dormitory, it was eternal night.

She had been content to exist within Louis’ shadow, always protecting and adoring him, chasing the promise of the light on the other side. All her life, she wasn’t sure if she existed more in the light or the darkness.

Bopping her head up and down as she breathed, the warm salty tears dripped onto her own hands as she tried to speak. A voice so meager, so silent, without any shred of confidence remaining, the sentence itself torn to shreds every time the woman needed to take a deep breath.

“…What am I meant… to do now? What am I even…?”

It sounded as if she was speaking more to herself than to anyone else, at least until she sank to the floor, on her knees. Her face depicted the face of someone begging for mercy, for a little light of hope to cling onto, the face of someone asking to be put out of their misery. “…Help me.”

No one answered her.

Clem stared at her reflection in her broken mirror, in darkness. No one could see the puffiness around her eyes from crying too much. She’d entertained the idea of seeking out someone, but she had no energy to leave her room. She touched the glistening shard of glass which glowed in the moonlight diffusing through her window and clenched it tightly in her hand, despite the throbbing pain and the crimson rivers flowing down her hand and trickling down onto the floor. She soon began feeling dizzy.

She tightened her grip on the glass, whim whispering in her ear to crush it. Crush it, like the Delta and so many other people had tried to crush her. Like this war had crushed Louis and everyone else she had ever loved.

But it didn’t break, didn’t even crack.

“I didn’t… I didn’t—” she broke off, the knot in her throat constricting her.

i didn’t get to say goodbye.

Even in death, she felt the strength of their bond… the bond that she had never once felt in her life with anyone else. The longer he was dead from the world, the fiercer she held on, clutching the glass in place of flesh. Say a quick goodbye and get over it as quickly as possible, she told herself. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth. The words wouldn’t come. The tears did. At long last, the tears broke over like a wave. She grieved for him with the power of all the pent up grief that should have been dished over the years. Her tears were as silent as the grave. They weren’t for display, alone in her dormitory within the halls of this school for troubled youth.

She wept, her tears turning to frost. It was autumn, a world of fragile things. When she’d cried herself raw, still staring into nothing, she took the breath and said the words. “Goodbye, Louis.” It was a curious sound, to have finally cracked the silence. She tested the sound. Then she felt the silence. It didn’t work quite as it had before, with her dead friends, so she tried again, a broken little thing trying to figure out the indescribable. “Goodbye, Louis. Goodbye, my darling… Goodbye, my love…. Goodbye. Goodbye. Good-“ She stopped.

It was a failed experiment.

She squeezed the piece of glass tighter. “I love you.” It was a push. In the other direction, and not toward the living. But it was movement, so she embraced it. “I love you.” She edged closer to a conclusion, “I love you.” Closer still. But there was no answer. I love you. She shut her eyes. She’d see him again soon.

Forever and ever.

And never.

Clementine squeezed the small piece of glass between her fingers, pouring her agony, her sadness, all of her into it.

Because unlike her, it could not break.

The last thing she could remember before fading into blackness was Ruby screaming her name as she’d burst the door open and rushed to her aid.

She would never, ever forget the way Ruby’s attempt at a gentle, comforting smile broke when she saw her lying there against her bed in a puddle of her own blood, brilliant blue eyes widening in realization as she saw her hand over her other bleeding hand with the shard of glass at her side, her skin sickly, and golden eyes lulling shut. She would never, ever forget the anguished scream that left her mouth, the way she desperately scrambled to reach her, the way she yelled profanities at her for being so stupid. Most of all, she would never, ever forget the way she looked at her as she worked her wound, like she was losing one of her precious things in the world in front of her very eyes in that one, single desperate moment.

It was one of the most heartbreaking things she’d ever seen.

“Ruby,” she’d rasped, wanting to wipe the tears away from her face but finding herself unable to move any of her limbs. “Ruby, I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing to her, she didn’t know what she was doing anymore at this point. Didn’t know what she was thinking anymore. I’m sorry, her mind whispered, despite herself. I’m so sorry.

“Don’t talk, you idiot!” She was frantic and scared, she could tell by the abnormally high pitch of her voice and the way sobs tore from her throat afterwards. Her hands were slick and red with her blood and she was shaking like a leaf, terrified of what might happen to her friend. “You are not dying on me now, Clementine Maria Jasmine Cree! You are not dying on me now! You went through hell and back, you are not dying on any of us now!” The way she was yelling desperately at her, like losing her was one of the worst things that could happen to her, made her sluggishly beating heart ache in the sweetest way.

“I…” She had to stop to cough, before wheezing painfully and panting desperately, trying to catch as much air as possible. Why was it so hard to breathe? Was her body failing her already?

I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. She thought, looking at her through bleary eyes. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want to do this. I never wanted to leave you guys. I never wanted to leave AJ. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, and felt a sense of relief when she succeeded. Ruby looked so beautiful, crying over her like that. Like she needed her to the very last moment. Her eyes felt too heavy, then, and she let them fall shut. She was too exhausted to fight back. Thank you, Ruby.

She waited for the blackness to overtake her, waited for death to claim her.

But it never did.

She didn’t know how much time she spent there, unable to move a muscle and waiting for eternal sleep to steal her away—it could have been a minute, an hour, half a day. But slowly, steadily, her mind cleared itself. Her heart slowly picked up its pace again. Clementine, still sluggish but feeling a little bit more energized, snapped her eyes open and took a generous gulp of air, her chest jolting forward in shock. She didn’t even have the time to take in anything before he felt a pair of small, thin arms tightening their hold on her neck and became aware of the dampness on her shoulder and AJ’s soft sobbing. Her eyes softened.

“AJ…" she croaked, swallowing tightly as her tongue felt sluggish. She tried to pull him away so she could look at him, but he only clung to her harder while making a small cry of negation. "AJ, it's… it's okay,” she said hoarsely, resting her weak arms on his shoulders. He didn’t respond, and she waited a bit until she had a little more strength. “I'm fine,” she whispered reassuringly, turning her head in his direction. "I’m okay.“

She had to live for him, she knew, as she hugged him back just as fiercely. Ruby, Aasim, Tenn and James approached shortly after and gave her condolences while wishing her well, and Tenn had given her a drawing of herself with a “Stay Strong” message heavily emphasized in deep red crayon. When they’d all left, Ruby remained and scolded her on the great and foolish risk she’d taken, before sitting on the edge of the couch and gently reassuring her that they would get through this together, before embracing her friend.

They’d managed to get Louis’ corpse back and give him a proper burial that day. Throughout the whole thing, she didn’t even shake or sob or tremble. Tears just silently streamed down her cheeks.

No one ever dared to mention that day ever again.

Clem placed the bouquet over his grave in silence before seating herself before his grave. Every night, she would come here and clean his grave and speak to his grave, as if he was still there with her.

“AJ’s been doing well in his piano lessons, he’s a natural, just like you said.” she whispered after a long time, a sad, sweet smile gracing her features, her fingers lacing around her Omega necklace that he’d given her all those months ago.“You gave me forever in those number of weeks… and for that, I’m eternally grateful.” She whispered softly, tears blurring her vision, before she blinked them away. “You made me believe that people can be beautiful, too. You’d brought me to life.” A hitched sob escaped her, then, she murmured, “There is no one else but you.”

She would never love another again.

The flowers in Clem’s bouquet and their meanings: Ambrosia– Your Love is Reciprocated Amaryllis– Splendid Beauty Bird of Paradise– Joyfulness Camellia General– Admiration Camellia Pink– Longing for You Camellia White– You’re Adorable Carnation Pink– I’ll Never Forget You Carnation Red– My Heart Aches for You Chrysanthemum White– Loyal Love Dandelion– Faithfulness Dead Leaves– Sadness Gloxinia– Love at First Sight Hyacinth Purple– I Am Sorry, Please Forgive Me, Sorrow Iris Yellow– Passion Iris Blue– Faith, Hope Lilly-Of-The-Valley– Sweetness, Return to Happiness, You’ve Made My Life Complete Primrose– I Can’t Live Without You Rose Dark Crimson– Mourning Rose Dark Pink– Thankfulness Rose Red– Love, Respect Sunflower– Pure Thoughts, Adoration, Warmth Sweet-Pea– Departure, Good-bye, Thank You for A Lovely Time Tulip Red– Declaration of Love Tulip Yellow– There’s Sunshine in Your Smile Violet Blue– Watchfulness, Faithfulness, I’ll Always Be True Violet White– Let’s Take a Chance on Happiness Viscera– Will You Dance With Me?

welp. i certainly wasn’t ready for this.

#{ first of all how dare you }#agirlinhell #◜ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ᴠᴀʟɪᴅ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ ◞ ♥ ﹕ ‘ ASK PROMPT ’ ﹗#◜ sʜᴇ’s ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅ’s ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛ ◞ ♥ ﹕ ‘ OUT OF CHARACTER ’ ﹗#◜ sᴛɪʟʟ sᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ɪ sᴇᴇ ◞ ♥ ﹕ ‘ ANSWERED ’ ﹗#tw self harm// ////#tw suicide// ////#cw long post// ////#submission

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bracketedmorality · 6 years

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Absentia

—adverb Latin.

1. in the absence of the person involved: He was sentenced in absentia by the court.

Everyday I die a bit,

that I’m not with you,

not that I’m miserable,

but the guy I was allowed to be disappears too.

What we had was one of a kind,

walking around daily that bell rings true.

I’m referring to the understanding,

those around me try to relate but don’t have a clue.

It was nice to have company on this island,

until that job came to your rescue.

I guess like everything else just give it time,

and they’ll start to forget you.

Not me.

I can’t replace you.

Like a scar on my heart,

I can’t erase you.

What we need,

is sometimes the hardest to do.

Although we know there’s another side,

the darkest tunnel can feel like the longest to get through.

It’s when I’m trying to be me the most,

that I feel your absence.

I haven’t known you for that long,

so I’m not sure if that’s allowed to make sense.

The amount of time we spent together,

to that fact may recompense.

You did always say,

that what we had was intense.

I’m sat here with a space next to me,

and the feeling that it was meant for you is immense.

This would have been a week spent,

side by side with misplaced confidence.

It would have probably been the last time,

there was a shift in my hearts contents.

You’d have fully moved in,

taken full residence.

When asked for reasons why,

your voice, face and smile — my immediate evidence.

It’s pathetic to say the least,

you’ve still got me on a leash.

I miss rendezvous’ at our particular spot,

where we both became love beasts.

Almost the same amount of time has elapsed I’ve known you,

that you’ve been out of reach,

and apparently a special place for you,

I still keep.

Some nights you’re all I think about,

and I can’t get any sleep.

Always I’m so dumbfounded,

at the way I fell so deep.

Each time I contact you and I’m rebuffed with silence,

you make me feel like a creep.

I haven’t been reduced yet,

to a point I want to weep,

but I’m reminded at every thought of you,

how you’ve made me delicately weak.

Taken away the strength I had,

stripped me of the right to speak,

so because I can’t say it out loud,

it’s in my head on repeat.

It’s a complex simplicity,

I just want you in my life,

I don’t care in what capacity.

I know I shouldn’t have you around,

but I still have the audacity,

to think I can experience your presence,

without trying to move to you romantically. Because at present I’m trying to downgrade your access,

and regain my composure frantically.

#new poets society #poet #poerty #poems on tumblr #poetic #poets corner #love poems #poems #rhyme #bracketed morality #ellvie chapter #absentia #poem #original poem

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surveys-at-your-service · 6 years

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Survey #134

“i got detention ‘cuz i made a face; nobody believed me that it’s stuck that way.”

If you were to die today would your life be complete? No. How good is Coca-Cola? It's my second-favorite soda. Who was the last person you took a picture with?  My niece Aubree <3 Do you have a bad temper?   No. Do you know anyone who is pregnant right now?  One acquaintance, one old friend off the top of my head. Have you ever had someone pick you up off the ground and carry you? Mom when I passed out. If you were in the hospital, do you think any of your exes would come see you? Girt probably would, and he's the only one I wouldn't have a problem with visiting. If you were kicked out of your house, would the last person you texted take you in? I'm sure they would, but it's more realistic I'd live with my dad. If you were immortal for a day, what would you do? Skydive. What fictional place would you most like to go to? Yo can I go to Azeroth. Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished? UHHHHHH. I'm honestly not quite sure. But Mark is like super high on the list, if not #1. I'm not well-informed on a lot of people's accomplishments lajsfdaowe. What’s something you like to do the old-fashioned way? Hmmmm. Good question. What is one thing you really want but can’t afford? Lmao dude I want so many expensive things atm. What is the most impressive thing you know how to do? I almost snorted reading this question because like do you honestly expect something impressive of me. I... guess I understand Sony Vegas well? What are some of the turning points in your life? Uhhhh meeting my ex, the divorce, discovering my passion for photography, the breakup, re-uniting with Dad, r e c o v e r y. What’s your cure for hiccups? NOTHING. NOTHING WORKS. Don’t you think it’d be cool to see a colossal squid? FUCKING NOPE THEY ARE SPAWNS OF THE NIGHTMARE REALM. What kind of steak do you prefer? When I ate meat, I liked medium well. Has anyone ever cheated on their significant other with you? Yes, allow me to (not) tell you about my stupid 12-year-old self. Are you fascinated by outer space? *cue the Mark "Space is Cool" mix* Do you answer your phone when it’s a number you don’t recognize? Never. When washing your hands, do you wet your hands or put soap on first? Put the soap on. When was the hardest you ever cried? What was the circumstance? The night of the breakup. I had left the house to walk to Jason's, and Mom got in the car and kept driving in front of me to stop me (I was too practically catatonic to run). Eventually gave up, she drove me home, and when she opened the door, it was my goal to run to the kitchen and slit my throat, but the moment I made the action to run, she pretty much tackled me and I sobbed my lungs out for like 30 minutes. Fuck that entire night. Who were your last 3 Facebook messages from and what do they say? "lol but hey thats the world we live in lol well goodnight honey and i hope to speak to u again" from Leslie, "How quaint O:" from Girt, "Its okay :)" from Amanda. Who was the last person to comment on your Facebook status? What does the comment say? Sara saying "YEP" when I shared a picture of straight people dating versus lesbians and it was spot-on. Which do you use the most, smiley faces, kisses or hearts? Faces, probs. Do you like sweet or salty popcorn? Ohhhh both. But I've gotta side with salty. Have you ever had to put your hand over someone’s mouth to keep them quiet? Once. Have you ever fed a wild animal? Yes. The last time you packed, where were you going? Sara's. Do you believe in astrology? Definitely not. Do you have an accent? Not really, but you can pick up a southern tone with some words. Example, my "your" sounds more like "yer," usually. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No. Do you sing in the shower? I have been a tad bit lately... I used to never. Are you satisfied with your current camera? My phone camera is SHIT, and I need a new actual camera. 55-200mm lens is broken, the other one's automatic focus setting is and I'm not great at manual focus. Have you ever been in a choir? In Catholic church, yes. Does it bother you to have dirt on the bottom of your bare feet? Y E S Has anyone ever told you that you have a big butt? I literally have the flattest ass of any female you'll ever meet. Do you often skip breakfast? Pretty much daily now, yeah. I'm fasting and don't eat until 11, so breakfast's passed. Last person who drove you somewhere (besides your parents)? Nicole. Who last grabbed your behind? I'm sure it was Chelsea being her crazy self. Do you eat raw cookie dough? Yeah dukes up salmonella. Do you watch Grey’s Anatomy? No. Would you survive in prison? No. I would find one way or another to kill myself. Do you drink? Smoke? Do drugs? Why, or why not? Rarely, no, no. I drink usually in celebratory settings to loosen up some and sometimes just because I like the flavor of weak, fruity alcohol. Smoking's gross, drugs are ew. What was the first cigarette you ever smoked? Never smoked. Are you scared about the end of the world? If I'mma be in it, hell yeah. But it's not something I actively worry about because I don't think it'll happen in my lifetime. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? Landmarks. I don't know street names for shit. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Yes. Where is one place that you’d never be caught dead in? Never be caught dead in, ever... uhhhh... nothing's coming to mind right now. Oh wait. Probably a strip club. Apple Jacks: yay or nay? YAY. Do you have a favorite Scooby-Doo movie? Yeah, but I don't remember which one. ;-; It's that one where the girl says her name is Mary Jane and Shaggy goes, "That's, like, my favorite name." Totally went over my head as a kid lmao. Have you ever met a guy for coffee? No, I hate coffee anyway. Who is your pet most attached to in your family? Teddy's most attached to me, I'm the only one who has any physical contact with Venus and she trusts me, Bentley is bonded with Mom, and Mitsu is still apprehensive of anyone. Does the last person you shared a bed with mean anything to you? The whole world and more. What do you normally do when you’ve had a really bad day? Cry, have a shit attitude occasionally, a nap is common, talk to Sara, binge my favorite Markiplier videos. When is the next time you will wear a dress? Hm. Maybe this summer if I'm confident enough in my body by then lmao. On the main page on YouTube, what’re the three recommended videos? 8-BitGaming beating SCP: Containment Breach, a DanAndPhilGAMES video of Golf With Friends, and then an 8-BitRyan vid of the full release of Raft. Do you know anyone from Canada? Yeah, my former roommate's ex. Are thongs sexy? Yeah, but oml I know I couldn't wear one. Did you grow up in a healthy environment? I wouldn't say "healthy," no. My dad was an alcoholic at the time, parents always fought, and our neighborhood was dangerous. Heavy rain or heatwave? Heavy rain, easily. Fuck the heat. You have a choice to shoot your father or die, what would you do? I hate these damn questions, but I'd rather die. My father deserves the longest and happiest life possible without the betrayal of his daughter. If killing yourself meant saving the world, would you? Yeah. It's a lose-lose situation for me; if I didn't, I'd still die if the world's gonna end. Who knows your most darkest memory or secret? Jason and Mom should know, and whoever read those specific surveys. Who was the last person you almost went out with? Meh. Juan. We talked and hung out once in... late 2016 I think and I was pretty confused as to how I felt about him. Meanwhile, he hasn't kept it a secret in the least he's liked me since freshman year. He's always treated me like a gentleman should, but I know the dark and disgusting parts of him. Glad I decided against it. The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, or The Beatles? Stones. What does your grandma call you? Just my name. And what do you call your grandmother? Grammy. Would you rather have a pool or a hot tub? Pool. Do you think ‘everything bagels’ are disgusting? No, but I have to be in the mood for one. Do you find serial killers fascinating? I wouldn't call them as a whole fascinating, but what has to be going on in their brains to create such grotesque desires and creativities. Do you have high blood pressure? No. Have you ever pumped gas? No. I'm 22 btw lmao. Have your parents ever caught you drinking? I mean Mom's seen me with a drink when she didn't know I'd gotten one, but I wouldn't call it "caught" since I'm allowed to and I made no effort to make it secretive. Do you prefer writing by hand or typing? Typing. Writing makes my carpal tunnel act up quickly, and besides, typing's way faster. Think of one of the biggest decisions you've had to make in your life. If you made a different choice, how different would your life be now? Panicking and telling Mom when I overdosed. I took way more than what I should've taken of a cold medicine I can't even look at now, but I don't think it would've killed me based on how I felt, but then again, the fluids or whatever I got to purge it could've saved me; however, I feel like I would've killed myself through another method if I didn't tell her. It all led to the psychiatric care I needed. Have you ever taken a course on CPR? No, but I should. Do you wear a watch? No, I don't even own one. When are you at your most energetic? A little after waking up. Just gotta get over the initial drowsiness. Do you like playing cards? If so, what's your favorite game? I don't really enjoy card games. I liked Magic: The Gathering tho when I was with Jason, but I wasn't that good at it considering it's got like a billion rules. I'd still play with someone who knew how to, though. I loooove the PS3 version that was made for it, it was much easier and I found it relaxing. And I adore the artwork like jfc. What are your parents’ natural hair colors? What is yours? Extremely dark brown, black, dirty blonde but turned to brown. How do you react to random strangers suddenly trying to make conversation with you? I get nervous. Do you like Slim Jims? YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS MAMA. Have you ever been in a castle? The Disney World castle, if that counts? Would you rather write a mystery or love story? A love story. Are you afraid of getting shots? No. I don't like them, but. What do you currently hear? "Pour Some Sugar On Me" cover by Ninja Sex Party. What’s one text that you saved? Two texts from Sara that I love way too much. Have you ever cut your own hair? No. What’s your favorite color combination? Probably orange and black bc Halloween. Did you share a locker at school? No. Have you ever sang karaoke? No. How old were you when you went on your first date? Huh, I dunno. Just the guy and myself? Probably dinner with Jason at 16? Has anyone besides your family seen you naked? Yeah. Would you rather have strep throat or an ear infection? Holy fuck, after my last ear infection? Strep. Where was your first job? GameStop. Have you ever been to a night club? No. Do all good things really come to an end? No, not all. How many people do you trust with your life? Three. Are you too kind for your own good? Don't think so. Have you ever held a baby? Yeah. What's your favorite '90s TV show? The Nanny. What are you favorite book series? Warriors. Favorite superheroes? I know he's technically an anti-hero, but does Deadpool still count? If not, uh. Batman I guess. Would people consider you more immature or mature? Mature, probably. Would you say most of your friends are older or younger than you? Younger. If you have a significant other, do you get jealous of people a lot? She knows I was insecure as fuck in the beginning. Now, nope. Who was your best friend in the fifth grade? Ummm I think Quiata? Do your parents still help you financially? I don't have a job. So. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? Don't think so. Do you have a preferred brand of bottled water? Essentia. Thanks for not having it, NC. Are you more prone to overthinking things, or being too impulsive? Hunny I overthink if I have to pee or not if it's not a massive need. How bad are your worst cramps on a scale of 1-10? Eh, maybe just a seven thanks to the pill. Have you ever thrown up from cramps? No. List three people you had a hard time forgiving. JASON, Dad, Mom multiple times. Who was your first celebrity crush? Jesse McCartney. If applicable, what form of birth control do you use? The pill. But it's for cramps. Are you happy with your gender? Yeah. What gender do you identify as? Female. What gender were you born as? Female. Have you ever gotten high off a prescription medication? No. Have you ever used a tampon? Yeah. How old were you when your parents talked to you about puberty? I don't think it's something we ever properly "talked" about, but rather indirectly when Mom taught me how to shave and told me when to start wearing a bra. How many people have you known who were suicidal? Sadly, I think MOST people I know/most friends. What's your favorite pain reliever? Advil. Who has the cutest baby/babies you know? My nephew is literally the cutest child I have EVER seen. Do you have a lot of people blocked on Facebook? Actually yes, but most because Mom instructed me to block them when I was younger. A few are of my own volition. What color is your razor/shaver? Orange and white. What's your boyfriend/girlfriend's sisters name? She doesn't have any sisters. Do you like the sound of violins? YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Would you be interested in going on a blind date? Even if I was single, no. If you formed an unhealthy habit, would it be smoking or drinking? Oh boy, idk. I think an alcohol addiction is more dangerous, but smoking has disgusting consequences. Have you ever bought a video game expansion pack? No. Do you wish YouTube had been around when you were a kid? Nah. I wouldn't want the risk of an earlier technology addiction. Do you remember preschool? Yes. What color(s) was your backpack in high school? Browns and black. It was a Ouija board design. What health conditions do you have? Physically, baaad dry scalp, dry af skin in general, inactive MRSA. I've been over my mental ones enough. Have you ever collected seashells at the beach? Yeah. Did you ever take dance lessons? Yeah, for many years. If you took dance lessons, what was your favorite style of dance? Modern. Have you ever worn a tutu? No. What was your favorite vacation that you went on as a child? Disney World. Have you ever had braces? Yeah. What is your favorite photo editing site? (or what do you use?) I don't use editing sites. I use Photoshop, Lightroom, or PhotoScape. How many times did you take your driver's test? I haven't yet.

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