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sugar-quilled · 3 years

Note

A2 or A7, B2, C1, D7 and E1

A/N: Not to be dramatic but I'm dying at this dynamic.

1k special! 9/20 💖

Please note: prompts for this event are now CLOSED!

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･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Tom’s extremely long sigh is the first sign, drawing your attention from your Charms homework as he sits down heavily on the black leather couch opposite you in the Prefect’s lounge. His elbows are on his knees, his face in his hands, his long fingers pushing back slightly into his hair. He’s rubbing his eyes slightly like he’s trying to straight up pulverise his own exhaustion.

“What’s wrong?” you ask dryly.

He sighs again, long and tense through his nose. “I’m tired.”

“You know, normally when people are tired, they go rest, Tom.”

He looks up at you with an unamused expression. “I would,” he says tersely, “but I still have to read Slughorn’s two chapters, finish an essay for Magical Theory, restructure the fifth-year Prefect patrol schedule because Flemming decided to fall ill the same week as the first trip to Hogsmeade –”

“Yes I’m sure she got sick just to ruin your evening, Tom.”

“ – and fill out the final quadrant of my Astronomy chart which I can’t even start until two in the morning because the stars aren’t in the right position yet –”

“Have you seriously reached the point where you’re taking the stars personally?” you smirk. “Malfoy was right, you are a megalomaniac.”

Tom’s brows raise, his hands slowly lower, and his lips actually part in surprise. That paired with the way his hair has escaped its tidy waves and is curling rebelliously in the wake of his exhausted touch leaves him looking hilariously bewildered. “Malfoy told you I’m a megalomaniac?”

“Yeah, but Malfoy’s never once told me something I don’t already know,” you say dryly setting your assignment aside and standing. “Come on,” you say decisively, waving him up. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” he asks at once, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t you trust me?” you grin.

“No,” he deadpans.

“Ah, a smart megalomaniac.”

“I just told you how much I have to do,” he says woodenly, leaning back in the couch. “I don’t have time for –”

“It’ll help,” you say, amused. “I promise.”

Tom’s suspicious gaze lingers on you for a second longer, and then he looks away with yet another sigh. “Fine,” he says dully, standing. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Tom arches a brow when you turn towards the huge front doors in the Entrance Hall, still cracked open to let in the late-night stragglers from Quidditch practice. “It’s three degrees outside.”

“You’re like my own little weather man,” you say, unimpressed, “go on Tom, what’s the humidity like?”

“I’m simply saying that if you’re seriously intending that we go outside, it’s far to cold to –”

“Now are those stratus clouds or cirrus? I can never remember, thank heavens you’re here to clear this up –”

“It’s a miracle of nature that I don’t hate you,” he says monotonously.

You finally come to a stop in the stone gazebo on the far side of the rickety wooden walkway that leads away from the courtyard (and everyone else in the school).

“What are we doing here?” Tom asks impassively, looking around the dark gazebo with detached interest, his eyes lingering slightly on the rather stunning view of the Black Lake and the stars glittering on its mirror surface. “I already told you that I can’t do my Astronomy assignment until –”

You step up beside him, leaning your forearms on the little stone wall, watching the cold stars glimmer. He stops talking. Your shoulder is nearly pressed against his. “We’re not here for your Astronomy assignment, Tom,” you say calmly.

He’s silent, you can only hear the careful chirping of a distant insect and the wind stirring in the dark trees behind you, sending a sheet of ripples across the distant water.

You glance at him. Tom’s hands have come to rest on the stone banister beside you, his eyes black under the faint starlight and the scant glow from the sliver-crescent moon. He’s not looking at the lake, though, he’s looking at you. “I brought you here for the view, Tom,” you say wryly, ignoring the warmth that blooms under your cheeks.

Tom immediately looks at the lake, expression blank. Your eyes linger on him in with a weird mix of emotions that Tom so frequently brings out in you, fondness and amusement and something more that you don’t care to think about. You’ve been trying to ignore that particular part of how Tom makes you feel recently. You return your gaze to the star-scattered lake yourself.

“Sometimes you have to take a break,” you tell him quietly. “And just...”

You wave at the lake.

“Enjoy the view?” he asks in an inscrutable voice.

You nod, not daring to look at him.

He takes another long breath (considerably less tense than before) and leans down, resting on his forearms lacing his hands together. You risk a peek. As expected, Tom looks indescribably gorgeous, and the calm way he’s looking out at the lake only make him more so, the wind playing with his hair, the pale moonlight casting wonderful shadows down his face.

You can only hope the night is dark enough to hide the way you quickly avert your eyes.

The silence that falls is very calm.

“They’re cirrus clouds, by the way,” Tom says quietly.

You shoot him an exasperated look and his lips lift into a very dry smile.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

Text

when stars align

a/n: this is fluff wrapped in unnecessary plot. my bad.

summary: star gazing date

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

pronouns: she/her

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spring came very suddenly this year. Many students had feared that there wouldn't be sunny weather to look forward to after exams ended, but the clouds parted on the last day, and there was a great hurrying to the castle grounds and enjoy a well deserved break. Quite a few students had taken to soaring around the Quidditch pitch, throwing around a Quaffle and chatting about summer plans. As you made your way out to the courtyard, absolutely determined to forget about the entirety of your Astrology exam, a very handsome owl came swooping down from a tree nearby to land on your shoulder. You quickly accepted the very small square of parchment clamped in its beak, and recognized it as Draco's eagle owl. You smiled at the bird, gave it a quick pet on the head, and turned the parchment piece around. In very tidy writing, it read:

Meet me at the courtyard? 8 pm. Send an answer back - Draco

"Date night?" a voice behind you said. You swung around to see Daphne Evergreen's eyes peering over your unoccupied shoulder and grinned.

"Seems like you know the answer to that question already, Daph."

"Sure do. Will you let me do your hair? I saw a Ravenclaw with a really beautiful half up half down kind of look and it'll really be gorgeous on you. Pity I could never pull it off."

"Don't lie to yourself," you said, swinging your bag off your shoulder, "bangs do grow out you know. And yes, absolutely." The owl readjusted its footing and tugged on your hair, as if telling you that it didn't have all day to listen to two girls talk. You walked quickly off the path, said goodbye to Daphne with the promise of meeting her in the dormitory in a few minutes, and dug around your school bag for a quill and ink. Unscrewing the bottle, you sat down on the grass and wrote back,

Answer is yes, pretty boy.

Draco's owl immediately snatched the parchment out of your hand, and took off towards the owlery.

time skip to 7:50

"Daphne you're brushing too hard," you muttered as she tugged forcefully on your hair. You two had been planning your outfit for about 4 hours now, taking a 30 minute break at 5 to shovel down perhaps the fastest dinner you had ever eaten and running right back up to the dormitory.

"I've never ever seen your hair with this many knots. Have you been crawling around some underbrush? There's a twig in here. How could you have possibly gotten a twig in your hair?"

"I don't know? Maybe it was Draco's ow- OW! Daphne, please, my head's attached to the other end of those strands! Couldn't you just use some Sleekeazy's? There should be a bottle in my drawer."

"NO! It'll ruin your natural waves!" she cried, frantic. "It's 7:52 already! You're due in 8 minutes! And we've still got earrings to choose and you didn't say which shoes yet!"

"I'll do without earrings! And I thought I said the oxfords were fine!" you answered, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as Daphne tugged harder still.

"Hang on, just give me one second, I'm nearly there, you've just got this big lump that I've been trying to get through this past half hour."

With the hardest tug yet, Daphne undid the knot, pulling out quite a few hairs in the process, and let out a very tired cheer. You stood up straight and turned back at her.

"Okay, well you've got your top," she said, dropping the brush and moving forward to tuck the black scoop neck into your jeans, "jeans, necklace looks fine, hair looks gorgeous, and do you want to borrow my purse? It'll fit th-"

"Daphne I'm just going to the courtyard! What do I need a bloody purse for?" You half-yelled, massaging a very sore spot on the back of your head.

"You're right, you're right," Daphne said as you stepped into your oxfords, "well then off you go! It's 7:56, you've got plenty of time. Tell me all about it when you get back!"

"Yes, of course. Bye, Daphne!" You shouted, already half-way out the door.

The trip out to the courtyard seemingly took less than a minute, but in your hurried state, there was no way you counted the seconds properly. It was almost completely empty, with only two or three pairs of students still playing gobstones. You spotted Draco, and immediately felt a rosy color creep over your cheeks.

Draco was wearing a white button down and some neatly pressed black pants, an attire that looked suspiciously like his school uniform without a cloak. No complaints were had though, as he looked impossibly handsome.

A large, grayish green picnic blanket had been set down on the floor. Several puffy pillows had been layered down on top of it, alongside a very big, very fluffy blanket.

He turned around, a very expensive looking bouquet of flowers in hand, and gave you a quick smile before striding towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

You blushed and placed a kiss below his jawline before entwining your hand in his. He gestured towards the blanket—"after you, dear"—and the two of you sat down.

"This set up looks lovely, Draco" you said, readjusting to face him.

"I'm glad you're impressed by my effort" he replied, handing you the bouquet. It was a darling little thing of daisies, baby's breath, and lavender. Pixie dust sparkled on each flower. "I'm sure you want to know what I have planned for today?"

You leaned closer to him, and answered mockingly, "What is it dear Draco? Do tell me!"

"Star gazing."

You leaned back and and noticed a small telescope placed beside a pillow to your right. Knowing his absolute disdain for Astrology, you smiled. "Why the sudden change in interest?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be romantic. And anyways, stars are pretty when they aren't for analyzing. Come here, the sun's about to set." He pulled you fully onto his lap, facing away from him, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

The sky was indeed dimming, brilliant strokes of orange turned pink, then purple, and finally gave way to an inky night sky. You had settled very comfortably, head against his chest, as his chin rested on the top of your head. The big blanket covered you both, and as you sat up, reaching towards the telescope to get a closer look at what seemed to be Scorpius, a very sharp "Malfoy!" startled the both of you. Professor McGonagall was storming towards you.

"What do you two think you're doing? It's nearly a quarter past ten and I feel the need to remind you that that is past your curfew. 5 points from Slytherin, and you best both be hurrying back to your dormitories."

Completely abandoning the picnic things and apologizing briefly to McGonagall, you two ran back towards the Slytherin common room, slowing only when you reached a familiar stone wall.

"Serpentine," you muttered to the wall, which then rumbled and shifted so that a corridor that lead to the common room appeared. As you walked down the passage, you thanked Draco for the flowers and date.

"It did get cut short, but it was very enjoyable. Thank you for planning it." You gave him a smile, a peck on the cheek, and made to turn for the girls' dormitories, but Draco grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards the boys'.

"Dray, what are you doing?" You hissed, "Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise are probably sleeping by now."

Draco looked back at you with a signature smirk and continued to drag you up the stairs, leaving you with no choice but to follow.

He opened the door to his dormitory to show it completely empty.

"They've got detention today. Convenient."

"Draco! You gave them detention?"

"Well, I didn't really give them detention, I just gave them the opportunity to be given det-"

"Alright, alright," you muttered, coming to the conclusion that one nights' worth of detention for the boys couldn't be that bad. You drew open the curtains next to Draco's bed, revealing a tall, arched window and the starry night sky, framed like a painting behind the glass.

"This view is incredible," you breathed, snuggling into Draco's bed, which smelt like cologne and mint, resting your head against the headboard, and watching Draco rest himself beside you and lay his head on your chest. He turned so that you both were facing the window, and then wrapped his arms securely around you. One hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on his lower back, you turned to look at the stars with him.

Each was dotted with precision into the inky background, looking nothing like a nature of the universe and everything like a craftsman's work of art. You'd heard so many people marvel at those that shone brighter, more captivating to the eye, but to you, it was the small little specks that were worth more. They filled the gaps that the larger ones couldn't, and made the skies irregular and breathtakingly beautiful. Stars move, so that no night sky is ever the same as the previous, and maybe it was that Draco was by your side, but no combination of stars had ever presented such a beautiful picture before.

"Draco, you see those four stars? How they're in a line?"

Draco looked up sleepily at the window, muttering "pretty" before slumping down again.

"Prettier than me?" You laughed, pushing a few strands of hair off his forehead.

"Nothing's prettier than you, baby, you know that." He muttered drowsily, rolling onto his back so that he could look straight up at you.

You leaned over and brushed the tip of your nose against his. He hummed softly in response and wrapped two arms around your neck, bringing you into a kiss.

"I love you," you whispered after breaking away, shifting yourself out from under Draco so that you two were now eye to eye.

He pulled you onto his chest. "I love you too baby. And I'll get you another bouquet tomorrow since todays' is probably wilting as we speak."

You giggled softly, and with the promise of, you both promptly fell asleep.

pov switch

When Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise entered their dormitory after two hours worth of scrubbing the floor, they found Draco entwined with a certain girl, her hand in his hair, his wrapping her close and snug against his chest. The curtains next to Draco's bed were still drawn open, so that the uncountable stars winked down at the couple. The boys knew better than to wake them up, so Goyle drew the drapes around the four poster closed, and they headed off to bed.

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

Text

yall have to stop giving this attention my ego is far too big for my liking

ron weasley x reader

request

a/n: i slipped from the topic a little bit, pretty sure what i wrote isn't teasing, and if you'd like me to change it just tell me :)

summary: While visiting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron's clothes get sucked into a machine. All of them, except for his boxers.

genre: comedy and (im not sure if this counts as fluff but) fluff

word count: 1.6k

pronouns: not used

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Diagon Alley was packed, as it always was at the start of a term. Underneath a beautifully clear sky, students were seen hurrying to purchase potion ingredients and new robes. Those that had already purchased the items on their Hogwarts list were seen crowding around a new and extremely flashy building.

The store front was painted in a shocking orange color, with a large figure standing inside a window and tipping his top hat to the surrounding crowd below. In neat, gold printing, the store was identified to be none other than Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

You entered through the door amongst other eager shoppers, and immediately heard a circus-like music, coupled with the chatter of about 50 people.

Shelves on shelves of brightly colored goods and at least 4 oddly built staircases met your eyes. Immediately to your left was a brightly colored display of candy. Your walked closer, and Fred and George Weasley popped out from a counter nearby.

"Taking a look at those nosebleed nougats are you, Y/N?"

"We've got samples over here if you like-"

"Just eat the red and you'll see the red!"

"And one bite of the other side will stop it just like that."

"And fever fudge!"

"There's only a bit of those puking pastilles left, clearly we're due for a restock, Fred."

"Well, Y/N, welcome to our shop and go enjoy yourself! Call us if you need any help and we'll be right by your side in a jiffy. Now come on, George, one kid over there looks mightily suspicious."

You smiled after the twins' backs, not even angry that they hadn't let you get a word in, when you spotted Ron Weasley taking a look at Headless Hats—now on sale for 1 galleon and 8 sickles! Your previous conversation (could you even call it a conversation?) with the twins immediately left your brain and you made your way over.

Ron had been a long time crush of yours. In fact, the two year anniversary of your feelings was yesterday, and you celebrated by having a whole-hearted sobbing fest while your friends stared awkwardly at each other and tried to console you. Not that your friendship wasn't something to be happy about, but Merlin you just wished you could hold his hand. Romantically. You didn't think Ron could ever like you, what with his being best friends with Hermione Granger who was both insanely smart and jaw-droppingly gorgeous.

"Ron! It's nice to see you!"

He immediately swung around and burst into a very toothy grin. "Y/N! It's nice to see you too! What's up?"

You smiled back. "Nothing much! Your brothers' shop is gorgeous! The, uhh, those nosebleed nougats are really fascinating. And you? How was your summer?"

Ron put a headless hat down and strode closer to you to check out a row of punching telescopes. "Quite uneventful, to be honest. But yeah this stuff they came up with? Have you seen the smart-answer quills? Blimey I'd never have to ask Hermione for help again! And those fainting fancies. Reckon Snape'll believe one of those?"

You laughed. "Are you planning to faint during a lecture? It's our N.E.W.T year, you'll need all the information you can get."

Just then, Fred and George appeared right behind you.

"Having a good conversation, Ron?" Fred said cheerfully, elbowing Ron in the ribs—"Ow, Fred leave us alone!"—"Do you two want to check out the back?"

"Just don't steal anything, Y/N," George winked.

"Unless that something is Ron's heart," Fred muttered. Or you thought he muttered. But the twins' expressions had been wiped blank so that you couldn't tell whether Fred had really said it, and Ron had busied himself in untangling two extendable ears, so whether he had blushed or hadn't, you also couldn't tell.

"Lead the way, George!" Fred chortled, and swept away.

"Alright then. Right this way, you two!"

George led you and Ron, whose mouth seemed to be clamped shut, weaving past shelves higher than you to a door at the very back of the store. A small plaque on the door said: "Weasleys Working: In Progress." He twisted open the door, and beckoned both of you in. Right in front of you was a huge lab and packaging station. You could see potions brewing to your right, and to your left, there were two witches packaging a box of puking pastilles.

"So," George started, "welcome to our work station! Y/N, you might have seen a big gray thing over there upon entrance." He pointed. You looked. "That is actually something we've just installed in and its a bit of muggle machinery. Michelle and Rosalyn over there," he nodded towards the two witches, "used to have to do all the wand work manually but this big old thing makes some parts automatic. Quite useful!"

You stared at the big metal machine. There was a sort of chute at one end, and a big pipe leading up and into the ceiling.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it, and Michelle and Rosalyn," he called, "would you mind helping me out in the main area? Fred's left to check on the upstairs, and there's too many people waiting in line for purchasing." George gave Ron a ginormous wink, and left the room. The door swung back and clicked to a close.

You walked over to the muggle machine, very aware of Ron trailing behind you.

"Blimey, that thing's big. What does it even do?"

"I don't know, it looks like something that deposits goods into this bin under it. I'm not really sure where the goods come from though."

Ron circled the massive thing twice, and the second time, he tripped over a wire. Thankfully, he managed to stand himself upright with one hand leaning on the machine.

You laughed at him, and he looked embarrassedly back with a forced chuckle.

Then there was a loud whirring noise, and as Ron turned around in fright, the thing began sucking.

You were wrong. It didn't deposit things. It took them to be deposited.

With a frantic yell and many grabs at a nearby table, Ron's clothes ripped off. The machine sent them rattling through the chute and the whirring noise came to a stop.

Well. Not all of his clothes.

Ron was left standing in a pair of heart adorned boxers. Red hearts.

He tried his best to cover himself, but seeing as he only had two hands and more than two things on display, it was quite difficult.

You realized that you were staring and quickly looked away.

Ron was carefully looking at anywhere but your face.

After quite a long time's silence, your croaked out, "nice boxers, uh... dude," while looking at the ceiling. A giggle escaped despite your attempts at keeping it in, and you were sure Ron's face now matched the color of his hair.

"If you tell this to Gred- I mean, Fred or Gor- George, I'll-" he started shakily, "I'll die."

Seeing as he wasn't threatening you and assuming this meant friendly conversation could be engaged, you stammered, "they really suit you. You know, the red and all. Although I'd suggest a green pair next time. Because of the color wheel and those two are compl-"

Ron had burst into shaky, suppressed laughter.

"Never- never mind my fashion choices, how the bloody hell am I supposed to get my clothes back?"

"Well I don't see why you want them back. I mean think of the ladies you'd get by walking down the street with this lovely attire. Maybe for accessories you can add a bit more red by eating a nosebleed nougat, I'm sure I saw a few when I entered."

Both of you were laughing now, but a yell of shock from upstairs made both of you jolt.

"Oh no, no, no," Ron muttered, darting his eyes around as if trying to find a hiding spot, "Fred's upstairs, he knows what I was wearing, oh no, no-"

The door swung open. Fred was standing in the doorway looking highly amused.

"Ron, I thought you said you'd never wear those! Aunty Muriel will be pleased her present wasn't a waste of money!" Fred exclaimed, striding into the room and circling Ron, who was shaking fiercely. "They do compliment your hair, maybe I'll have to borrow the pair one day."

You choked back a laugh, bursting a vein for sure, when Fred rounded on you.

"I didn't know you two were already on this level of your relationship. Looks like Ron here neglected to tell me some bits!" Fred said cheerfully, waving his wand so that Ron looked perfectly normal again, except that his entire face was now the same color as the hearts on the boxers underneath the normality.

"Well I daresay you two have looked around, I was up there nearly 10 minutes," Fred continued, gesturing towards the door, "and Y/N, regrettably we have no products that erase recent memories-"

"Shut up," Ron muttered, walking towards the door.

"-but the idea is certainly a brilliant one and I'll be sure to start developing it." Fred gave a hearty wink as both Ron and you had exited the room, and closed the door.

You looked at Ron. He looked back.

"Well you know I never said I wanted to erase that memory. You did look quite marvelous."

Ron laughed, though his face still looked like he supported the UK Quidditch team.

"You should really take my suggestion of that green pair, and I wouldn't mind seeing how that looks either."

Both of you doubled over in laughter.

"And," you choked, "a pair of shoes to match wouldn't hurt either, though I daresay you'd rather go barefoot? Shoes shouldn't be worn to bed, after all."

There were definitely tears coming out your eyes now, and the two of you stumbled drunkily, still shaking with laughter, out the shop and down the ever so full streets of Diagon Alley.

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

Text

ive literally sat down 7 times to try and write this smut and its not working. how do you guys do it

1 note · View note

sugar-quilled · 3 years

Text

can someone request or ask something. like I know I've got a countable on hands number of followers but hello !! talk to me

3 notes · View notes

sugar-quilled · 3 years

Text

ron weasley x reader

request

a/n: i slipped from the topic a little bit, pretty sure what i wrote isn't teasing, and if you'd like me to change it just tell me :)

summary: While visiting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron's clothes get sucked into a machine. All of them, except for his boxers.

genre: comedy and (im not sure if this counts as fluff but) fluff

word count: 1.6k

pronouns: not used

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You entered through the door amongst other eager shoppers, and immediately heard a circus-like music, coupled with the chatter of about 50 people.

"Taking a look at those nosebleed nougats are you, Y/N?"

"We've got samples over here if you like-"

"Just eat the red and you'll see the red!"

"And one bite of the other side will stop it just like that."

"And fever fudge!"

"There's only a bit of those puking pastilles left, clearly we're due for a restock, Fred."

"Well, Y/N, welcome to our shop and go enjoy yourself! Call us if you need any help and we'll be right by your side in a jiffy. Now come on, George, one kid over there looks mightily suspicious."

"Ron! It's nice to see you!"

He immediately swung around and burst into a very toothy grin. "Y/N! It's nice to see you too! What's up?"

You smiled back. "Nothing much! Your brothers' shop is gorgeous! The, uhh, those nosebleed nougats are really fascinating. And you? How was your summer?"

You laughed. "Are you planning to faint during a lecture? It's our N.E.W.T year, you'll need all the information you can get."

Just then, Fred and George appeared right behind you.

"Having a good conversation, Ron?" Fred said cheerfully, elbowing Ron in the ribs—"Ow, Fred leave us alone!"—"Do you two want to check out the back?"

"Just don't steal anything, Y/N," George winked.

"Lead the way, George!" Fred chortled, and swept away.

"Alright then. Right this way, you two!"

You stared at the big metal machine. There was a sort of chute at one end, and a big pipe leading up and into the ceiling.

You walked over to the muggle machine, very aware of Ron trailing behind you.

"Blimey, that thing's big. What does it even do?"

"I don't know, it looks like something that deposits goods into this bin under it. I'm not really sure where the goods come from though."

Ron circled the massive thing twice, and the second time, he tripped over a wire. Thankfully, he managed to stand himself upright with one hand leaning on the machine.

You laughed at him, and he looked embarrassedly back with a forced chuckle.

Then there was a loud whirring noise, and as Ron turned around in fright, the thing began sucking.

You were wrong. It didn't deposit things. It took them to be deposited.

With a frantic yell and many grabs at a nearby table, Ron's clothes ripped off. The machine sent them rattling through the chute and the whirring noise came to a stop.

Well. Not all of his clothes.

Ron was left standing in a pair of heart adorned boxers. Red hearts.

He tried his best to cover himself, but seeing as he only had two hands and more than two things on display, it was quite difficult.

You realized that you were staring and quickly looked away.

Ron was carefully looking at anywhere but your face.

"If you tell this to Gred- I mean, Fred or Gor- George, I'll-" he started shakily, "I'll die."

Ron had burst into shaky, suppressed laughter.

"Never- never mind my fashion choices, how the bloody hell am I supposed to get my clothes back?"

Both of you were laughing now, but a yell of shock from upstairs made both of you jolt.

"Oh no, no, no," Ron muttered, darting his eyes around as if trying to find a hiding spot, "Fred's upstairs, he knows what I was wearing, oh no, no-"

The door swung open. Fred was standing in the doorway looking highly amused.

You choked back a laugh, bursting a vein for sure, when Fred rounded on you.

"Well I daresay you two have looked around, I was up there nearly 10 minutes," Fred continued, gesturing towards the door, "and Y/N, regrettably we have no products that erase recent memories-"

"Shut up," Ron muttered, walking towards the door.

"-but the idea is certainly a brilliant one and I'll be sure to start developing it." Fred gave a hearty wink as both Ron and you had exited the room, and closed the door.

You looked at Ron. He looked back.

"Well you know I never said I wanted to erase that memory. You did look quite marvelous."

Ron laughed, though his face still looked like he supported the UK Quidditch team.

"You should really take my suggestion of that green pair, and I wouldn't mind seeing how that looks either."

Both of you doubled over in laughter.

"And," you choked, "a pair of shoes to match wouldn't hurt either, though I daresay you'd rather go barefoot? Shoes shouldn't be worn to bed, after all."

There were definitely tears coming out your eyes now, and the two of you stumbled drunkily, still shaking with laughter, out the shop and down the ever so full streets of Diagon Alley.

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

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hello to the anon who requested the ron fic, im so sorry for not getting it out in an hour, its nearly done, like three sentences nearly, but i apologize for the false promise.

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

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Friends who are kinda crushing on each other

alright anon! im already working on this fic, it'll probably be up in about another hour? or so but one last question if you're active, do you have a specific house you want the reader to be?

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

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welcome!

about me (here is my introduction)

hello! my name is julia, and you can call me julia, jules, or any other nickname. my pronouns are she/her. i like to tell people that im a hufflepuff, but im actually a mix between that and gryffindor.

im friendly and will probably be very active from 12 pm to 8 pm est most days! dont be afraid to come chat and fool around. conversations absolutely do not have to be harry potter related.

(joined on 7/27/2021)

masterlist (what you're probably looking for)

request rules:

id love to write your requests, but i will be the one to decide whether or not to write it. be specific! if ive already written something similar to request, ill either reply with the link to the story or write another one.

i usually write x reader fics, but feel free to request for yourself specifically. just give me a name and pronouns and we'll be good to go

ill gladly take requests for poems as well!

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

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masterlist

list in alphabetical order

draco malfoy:

oneshots ⤵

when the stars align

----info: a star gazing date :) [fluff]

oliver wood:

i wrote us in the stars | part 1 |

---- info: after too many scuffed attempts to get oliver to notice her, y/n gives up and lets fate intervene [fluff]

ron weasley:

oneshots ⤵

ron loses his clothes in weasley's wizard wheezes

----info: he loses all his clothes except for 1 thing!! take a guess! [comedy, fluff]

last update was on 8/6/2021

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

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i wrote us in the stars, part 1

oliver wood x reader

word count: i dont know ill check later and update this

warnings: not proofread very well

_______________________________________________________

October finally came. Quidditch season was due to start soon, and this year (as you'd repeated to both yourself and your exasperated friends) you'd finally, finally, try out for the team, in the hopes of being able to get Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor captain, to finally see you as something more than a friend. Your friends (Aurora, Felicia, and Natalia) had known your intentions for two years now ("For Merlin's sake just ask him already!"), but it's not like you tried to hide it from them. Ever since year three, when he had helped you get a book off a very high shelf and handed it to you, smiling and brushing your pinky, you'd babbled to the girls about every encounter you two had, and there were quite a few. They would act exasperated and moan about how you should just confess, but every time he mentioned you without your presence, they would come flying to tell you how they'd noticed his cheeks redden up or how his smile had turned into more of a goofy grin. This, you expected, was to ease your worry that he had absolutely no interest in you and to boost your confidence so that maybe you'd finally tell him that you'd love to spend time with him over some tea.

Then, somewhere in the middle of the month, you heard Oliver talking animatedly to a friend about Quidditch. Upon leaning in closer to their conversation, you overheard that Oliver was going to be practicing at the pitch tonight. Not bothering to listen to the rest and assuming he meant alone, you flung around to Aurora. She stared up from her porridge, spoon halfway to her mouth, to see your eyes glistening with excitement.

The plan you had hatched hurriedly in Transfiguration was to have you run onto the pitch when Oliver arrived, (Felicia would be watching for when he did) and ask ever so nicely if Oliver could lead you over the finer points of Quidditch. You'd explain that flying wasn't your strongest suit yet, but that you were an exceptionally fast learner and you were sure that some tips and tricks from a renowned Quidditch star in the Gryffindor common room couldn't hurt. If the previous two went well, ("And only if they went well," Aurora said) you would hint at joining the house team, and with all luck Oliver would break into a smile and say See you at auditions, then! You might just be what I need.

At roughly 6:57 that day, Felicia ran up the staircase to the girl's dormitory and informed you in-between heavy breaths that Oliver was gathering up a quidditch set and heading onto the field. You sprang up, deserting Natalia who had been trying to comb your hair to a perfection, thanked Felicia ever so quickly, and dashed down the stairs, out the portrait hole, and began running down to the stadium.

While looking around, exhausted, for the school brooms, you almost collided with Oliver himself. And even after all that muttering about how this year was going to be the year, the determination and confidence left you, quick as smoke.

"Oh woah, careful!" he said, putting out one hand to stand you upright (the other clamped tightly around a brown box). You willed yourself to stop breathing so damn heavily and timidly smiled at him.

"Thanks, I really, uhm, really didn't mean to crash into you like that."

"No worries," Oliver smiled, and turned to leave.

"Oh, wait! I was uh... actually just going to go try and practice my flying because quidditch trials are coming up right? And uh I'd really love to try out for the seeker position and I heard that you're captain this year so I was just wonder"

Oliver turned, smile wiped and suddenly serious. "Quidditch trials? Oh you mean for the seeker position?" He paused, swung around as if to check that no one was listening, and turned back to you, eyes so bright and full of excitement, and whispered hurriedly, "Don't tell anyone yet, but we've already got Harry Potter. McGonagall pulled me out of Quirrell's class to tell me that he showed a brilliant talent on the broom, a fifty-foot dive, it was his first time too, and she's never ever told any captain about a prospective team member for almost a decade now which means that the Quidditch Cup is going to be ours this year."

You opened your mouth to tell him how great that was, all while a little voice in your head said sadly "The opportunity's gone now," but Oliver cut in with a hurried whisper.

"I've actually got to go practice with him now. So see you around!"

He swung around and ran towards the quidditch pitch.

Turning on your heels, face flushed a deep shade of crimson, you scolded yourself for wanting to punch Harry in the face. It wasn't the kid's fault, he just only happened to perform a perfect dive, something you could never hope to accomplish, at the right place and right time.

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