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comfortwriting · 3 years

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Unbreak My Heart - F.W

Fred Weasley X Reader Part 2 of ‘Call Out My Name’, inspired by the song ‘Unbreak My Heart’ by Toni Braxton.

Part 1 , Part 3

About: Fred realises he has everything wrong. His heart aching for the reader after pushing her aside for someone else, he searches for her to apologise for what he’s done and to admit his true feelings for her.

Theme: Heartache, sadness, moving on, relationships, rumours.

Warnings: mentions of raw emotions, *incredibly light* smut, depression, body image issues and swearing.

Don't leave me in all this pain Don't leave me out in the rain Come back and bring back my smile Come and take these tears away I need your arms to hold me now The nights are so unkind Bring back those nights when I held you beside me

The first thirteen months without Fred were the worst. You couldn’t face visiting Weasleys Wizard Wheezes no matter how many times George asked in his letters which you ignored. You couldn’t go into Diagon Alley without hearing news about The Weasleys - more importantly, the news about Fred and his darling; they were now engaged.

You kept to your bedroom, crying to sleep every night, looking through all the pictures you had taken of and with Fred over the years that you were with him. Letters you had written to him laid scrunched up all over your floor like an author going mad over a sticky, confusing, part of the story - but that was exactly what this was.

Everywhere you went as you entered Diagon Alley, you were forced to listen to the news over and over again that the shop was a success. You wanted to congratulate George, but after ignoring him for so long you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a pen to reach out to him.

Too afraid to let anyone in after the damage Fred inflicted on you, you didn’t bother meeting anyone new.

Plenty of people offered and even your sister tried to match you up with a friend of hers from work, but you declined and allowed Fred’s damage to take over you.

You only left the house for work which was torture enough as you worked with Percy at the Ministry. You ate one meal a day which was an apple on your lunch break. You didn’t dream of moving out despite your parents encouragement and you simply just collapsed in on yourself whilst your family constantly complained about Fred, swearing that you chose the wrong twin.

Although you hated Fred - or at least convinced yourself that you did - you still thought about him every single day, and at bedtime you would envision yourself back on his sofa in his arms underneath that scratchy patchwork blanket you shared many memories under.

Laying awake staring at the ceiling, you took a deep breath. It had been over a year. You couldn’t go on like this. You needed to claim your life back, one step at a time. Sitting up in your bed, you grabbed the last of your parchment and leaned it against an old book. Dipping your feather quill into your ink pot that rested beside your bed next to the framed picture of you and Fred, you wrote to George.

You began apologising for not replying and for not visiting the shop, explaining why, and asked how everything was going - you missed your friend and it became suffocating to ignore him reaching out.

Un-break my heart Say you'll love me again Undo this hurt you caused When you walked out the door And walked out of my life Un-cry these tears I cried so many nights Un-break my heart My heart

It had been another five months since you wrote your letter to George and you were still waiting for a reply. You told yourself that perhaps he got too busy with the shop or he just didn’t want to mend things after you ignored him for so long. Either way, you didn’t ponder on it, sprayed yourself with some perfume, and got ready to leave for your third date this week.

George wasn’t ignoring you on purpose. He truly was too busy with not just everything at the shop, but also helping Fred plan out this so-called wedding and engagement party that came out of nowhere. He planned to write back but time got the better of him, he knew you wouldn’t take it personally.

“Oh look at you!” your sister grinned, “Same guy?” she asked enthusiastically.

“No,” you shook your head and grabbed your coat, putting it on, “I don’t see the same guy twice if the spark isn’t there.”

Your sister smiled to herself and told you to have a good time. You enjoyed yourself temporarily until you remembered Fred Weasley and what he did. He was the reason why you decided against seeing the same person twice. If there was no chemistry during intimacy you moved on. Speed dating was the perfect temporary aid you needed at the moment.

And just like Fred and his fiancé, word got out about you and how desirable you were. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, you started looking after yourself and forced yourself into the limelight. Even if it didn’t result in finding your true love, you still wanted to have fun along the way.

Your parents went to The Leaky Cauldron, and just as they were leaving, they bumped into Molly and Arthur Weasley. Your parents flinched at first sight, but swallowed the anger they had towards their son Fred.

“Oh Mr and Mrs Y/LN! what a lovely surprise to see you!” Molly chirped up. George turned his head and stood up to greet your parents. Unlike Fred, they loved George.

“And you.” Your father replied, his voice monotone.

“We haven’t seen your daughter for ages. We missed her last summer, please ask her to come and see us. George misses her and it’s our Freddie's engagement party tonight!” Molly babbled on, pointing to George when she mentioned him and Fred.

Molly and Arthur loved you coming over to the burrow. They loved you even more seeing how happy you made their son. In their eyes you brought out the best in him. On the other hand, they weren’t keen on the girl Fred decided to marry, she was inconsiderate, selfish and didn’t know what hard work was - she was handed everything she ever wanted, the exact opposite to you.

Your fathers face flushed with frustration. Didn’t they know why you never came around anymore? Were they not aware that Fred was the reason she screamed and cried every night for over a year?

Your mother hesitated but decided against holding back. She liked the Weasley family, but she couldn’t allow Fred to get away with what he had done.

“Maybe you should ask your darling boy, Fred. Or maybe George will tell you, he’s the decent one of the two.”

Your mother said no more and stormed out of the packed pub, your father trailing behind nodding a goodbye to George. Molly and Arthur stood there speechless and looked over at George, demanding that he tells them what happened as soon as they arrive home when everyone has gone to bed.

Fred felt strange throughout the whole party. He didn’t feel happy like he thought he would - he hadn’t been feeling happy for the past five months. Something in his life just didn’t feel right and he couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong -waking up next to his girlfriend made him feel sick and he realised how stupid he was thinking that getting engaged would make everything better.

Molly, Arthur and George sat at the dining table when everyone else was in bed. “George you better tell me what happened, now!” Molly hissed in a low whisper.

George spilled absolutely everything, from beginning to end. As much as he loved his twin, he didn’t shy away from any details even if they showed Fred for exactly who he was, and the awful things he did. Molly and Arthur were outraged at their child's behaviour. Molly had to restrain herself at the table whilst she sobbed into her hands.

Far away, you panted heavily as you came down from your high with your date. Unmounting him, you laid beside him in his bed. He took off his condom and breathlessly offered taking a shower with him. You accepted his offer knowing that you could go home straight after, you wouldn’t need to stress about hurrying in the morning to get to work on time.

Take back that sad word goodbye Bring back the joy to my life Don't leave me here with these tears Come and kiss this pain away I can't forget the day you left Time is so unkind And life is so cruel without you here beside me

Work at the ministry became more tolerable over the next six months. Percy smiled at you more often and you couldn’t understand why. You didn’t look into it and simply smiled back. You flourished even more within the same time - you had got into a relationship with the one night stand you shared a shower with. The curly haired bookshop assistant grew on you and you didn’t mind, he often made you laugh so hard you burst into tears.

Whilst you were finding yourself, running with the wind, Fred had fallen apart completely. He overheard George spilling his guts, and finally realised why everything felt so wrong, why he wasn’t happy. You were the missing piece. His guilt and mistakes were eating him alive. He broke off the engagement - to his parents delight - and vowed on finding you and making everything right. George felt relieved that he had his own room because Fred’s cries were enough to make anyone feel ill.

Fred slept with the Irish scarf he bought you from the world cup, and he kept the patchwork blanket on his bedroom, refusing to bring it back downstairs.

Memories flashed back to him, the two of you in the tent, “Oh Fred are you sure?” you asked him as he put the scarf around your neck.

He chuckled and kissed your head, “Anything for you, my love!”

Then memories from the sofa flooded in, hurting him even more.

“I’m so in love with you,” you moaned, cupping his face while he made love to you.

He shook his head and came to his senses, angry that he put such a lovely girl in the firing line.

“Percy, Y/N works with you doesn’t she? Can you tell her I need to see her.” He later begged.

Percy refused, “That would be an incredibly inappropriate thing to do in the work place!”

Fred wrote you letters, but you never got them. The family refused to lend him their owl and Fred couldn’t understand muggle post. Getting desperate, he would stay in Diagon Alley trying to see where you were lurking after work, asking strangers if they had seen you, showing them the only picture he had of you.

“It’s going to be perfect here!” Your mum smiled looking around your large half unpacked apartment, “When will he be moving in?” She winked.

You finally saved up enough money to move out and you were planning on asking your boyfriend to move in if things continued to run smoothly. You had got your furniture, all you needed were the items left in the big green box from your bedroom. “I’ll collect them next week.”

Feeling brave with your partner, arms linked, the two of you visited George’s shop. He had sent you a letter letting you know when Fred wasn’t working and you felt confident that you wouldn’t bump into him.

“I’m so proud of you!” You cheered for George, giving him a hug.

After paying for your bits and bobs you previously saw in the design stages, you walked out of the shop and bumped into someone. Looking up to apologise, you realised it was Fred. He stared at you - both of you mirroring each other looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

You shook yourself out of the immediate shock Fred was still stuck in.

“Sorry,” you muttered, walking away, your boyfriend asking what his problem was.

Un-break my heart Say you'll love me again Undo this hurt you caused When you walked out the door And walked out of my life Un-cry these tears I cried so many nights Un-break my heart

Another week went by and Fred was going stir crazy. Customers in his shop who knew you both were whispering about how happy you were now. Him and George argued when he discovered the letter between you two.

Fred rifled through the stacks of letters and found your parents address where you no longer lived. He got on his broom, not caring if muggles saw him, and landed on the roof. He crawled down to your window and gave it a tap with his wand with a soft “Alohomora”.

Expecting to find you asleep, he discovered only disappointment that your room laid bare and empty. The bedside table had nothing but a folded photo lying face down on it, the bin on the floor full of parchment balls.

He unfolded the photo and put a hand over his mouth, seeing you and him moving during your morning walks. He bent down and grabbed a ball from the bin, unravelling the parchment. He cried reading the letters you had written him but never sent. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the green box on your bed and he went through it, more tears spilling down his face.

“I’ll just grab my box!” He heard you yell, walking upstairs.

Without giving him time to hide, you opened the door, revealing him standing in front of you. You held back a scream of shock and took a deep breath shaking your head, “Fred please - you can’t be here.”

Fred shook his head and cried, “I’m so sorry, for everything,” he made his way closer to you, “I got everything wrong, her, everything.”

Not wanting your parents to see him, you closed your bedroom door and locked it, your heart pounding. Tears fell from your eyes, the walls you put up against him crashing down, your hate for him melting away and your love for him surging inside.

“Why are you here?” you questioned him through your cries.

Fred walked over to you slowly not wanting to scare you off. This was the closest you had been to him since you bumped into him at the shop. The young man you fell in love with wrapped his arms around you, tangling his hands in your hair. You stayed still with your hands by your side.

“I’m in love with you.” Fred choked out between sobs. He pulled away and gently put your hands in his, your tear filled eyes getting lost in his.

“Fred- I can’t!” you shook your head crying, feeling weak at the words he said and the ones you replied with.

“Please,” Fred begged getting onto his knees, staring up at you, “please let me make things right.”

Don't leave me in all this pain Don't leave me out in the rain Bring back the nights when I held you beside me

“I think you look stunning,” Fred complimented you, soot spread out all over your nose.

You chuckled and sneaked a kiss on his lips, only to hear a loud thud on the desk in front of you.

“One weeks’ detention for the two of you,” Professor Snape snarled, “and fifty points will be deducted from your house.”

Un-break my heart Say you'll love me again Undo this hurt you caused When you walked out the door And walked out of my life Un-cry these tears I cried so many, many nights Oh, un-break my

“What do you mean you’re taking her instead of me!” you freaked out, throwing your earrings at the mirror.

“It’s just a bloody Yule Ball. Y/N. It doesn’t mean anything.” Fred argued.

“Well it does to me!” you argued back, “I’m guessing I was just your back up plan if she said no.”

Un-break my heart, oh baby Come back and say you love me Un-break my heart, sweet darlin' Without you I just can't go on

Fred held you in his arms, the two of you watching the muggle horror movie in amazement. You nuzzled your head into his neck, planting kisses on it softly. Fred let out a soft shaky moan, his hand making its way up your thigh. “We’ll need to be quiet,” he whispered, pulling your underwear off.

Can't go on (Say that you love me, say that you love me) (Tell me you love me, un-break my) (Say that you love me, say that you love me) (Tell me you love me, un-break my)

You stared at Fred, still trying to process what he said. You pursed your lips and stayed quiet getting lost in your thoughts. Fred noticed you were in shock and lost for words. He pulled out the scarf from his coat pocket and walked over to you, wrapping it around you.

You stared up at him, getting lost in those gorgeous eyes that you missed so much. You looked down at his lips and kissed him impulsively.

He kissed back.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #imagines #oneshots #HP #Weasley #weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley

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acciomalfoy · 3 years

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the way the planets align (fred weasley x reader)

A/N; this fic is @fromashescomephoenixes child and i assisted in raising it :) so go check her out rn cos she is wonderful!

summary: y/n grew up alongside her two bestfriends, but life had other plans when y/n moved to france when she was 11. prior to the triwizards tournament, fred and y/n are forced to face the lives they lived, and the radio silence of the past year has an explanation afterall.

word count: a whopping 7.5k

It’s funny, really. How quickly life can pick you up, and how quickly life can throw you back down.

“Faster!” I had screamed as the wind rushed through my hair. I remembered this moment the most. With the wind rushing through my hair and knotting it like nothing else, I felt like I was an eagle all the way up here. My nest? Quite simple really. The boy sitting in front of me.

Reality though, was quite different. I was on one of the Weasley’s seven brooms, and Fred was sat in front of me. I hadn’t met many quidditch players, but I already knew that Fred was a damn good one. We had had a plan, you see. Once we arrived at Hogwarts, we were going to become the youngest quidditch players ever. We had it all planned out..

Fred began his descent to the ground in a swift plunge, and I clutched onto him tightly. If I made it to the ground, I was going to murder the idiot.

“Freddie!” I yelled out, and he only laughed.

“Don’t worry y/n! I’m the best quidditch player of all time,” He yelled back, and I wasn’t quite sure what occurred in that moment, but as soon as Fred slowed down his descent by a fraction, I knew I was in for it.

“Sure you are,” I giggled. “Although I’m slightly better,” The wind caught Fred’s response to this, so I never heard it. Looking back, I wonder what he had said. For once, everything seemed perfect. When we reached the ground, I was torn between kissing the ground and wishing I was still flying with Fred.

“I’ll never get sick of flying like that,” Fred smiled. The summer had made his freckles stand out even more than usual. I grinned back at him as we raced into the burrow.

“Darling y/n!” Molly greeted me cheerfully. “I haven’t seen you in ages! It must have been at least two hours,” she teased in a loving tone, and I could only grin back at her.

“I missed you!” Ginny cheerfully chimed in as she gave me a hug. I waved to her and gave her a hug while Fred and George grabbed a couple of pumpkin pasties out of the cupboard.

“Good afternoon y/n,” Percy greeted me as he peered over the top of his book. He was wearing strange glasses, which he swore he needed but Fred and George said he simply fancied that they made him look more grown up.

“Er, hello!” I cheerfully replied. Percy always seemed so much more grown up than Fred and George and I, that I almost felt awkward talking with him.

“Oh!” I remembered suddenly. “Would it be okay if Fred and George come over to my house for dinner tonight?” I asked Molly. Percy glanced up, but quickly resumed his uninterested reading.

“Please mum!” Fred and George begged one unison. They liked my house because mum always made dessert. Although George always liked to tease me by saying Fred likes dinner anywhere that I was. I didn’t mind that idea, in fact it only made me blush, but I knew George was joking. Molly nodded her approval and we ran out the door, eager to spend the afternoon in the sun.

We began our hike to our absolute favourite picnic tree, where the sun was softly filtering through the leaves of the forest. We were by no means quiet as we joked and laughed our way through the woods.

Finally we reached our picnic tree. I was the first to shimmy up the ladder. We had found the tree about three years ago, and from then on it became our hideout. The tree had such a huge trunk that even with all three of us we couldn’t get our arms around it! The trunk split into three large branches about eight feet off of the ground, and grew on from there.

“We’ll have to find a new hideout at Hogwarts,” I sighed, but spoke loudly enough so they could hear me down the ladder.

“I bet there’s some sort of secret room we could use!” Fred suggested eagerly.

“Or we could just stinkbomb whatever room we want, and then no one else would want to use it!” George suggested as he popped his head over the top of the ladder.

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I could even get used to that scent,” I wrinkled my nose in memory of the one we set off last Christmas.

“Ah true,” Fred sighed. “Bet there’s a charm for that issue though!” We giggled and continued to talk about our plans for Hogwarts. We’d all be going next year, although I was still waiting for my letter since my birthday wasn’t until the next week.

Dinner was certainly memorable that night. Fred, George and I walked back with about fifteen minutes to spare. They ran across the lane to get changed in time for dinner. I put on my favourite maroon dress and dashed downstairs just in time to hear the doorbell.

“Hey guys!” Their marching grind beamed towards me and we sat down to a delicious dinner of homemade pizza. I should have noticed something was up, because we only ever had homemade pizza like that when there was big news. At the tender age of 10, this was the worst news I had ever received.

“Are you boys excited for Hogwarts?” My mum had asked Fred and George. Of course, this launched us all into our carefully laid out plan. This extended to everything from what house we would be in, to what desserts we would eat on the first night.

“Well, we have some exciting news,” My dad began. I glanced up, curious if my letter had arrived early or something. Unfortunately I was a bit preoccupied by a bit of cheese that was extra gooey on my pizza.

“You’ll all get to experience two wizarding schools! In a way at least,” Mum announced this and we all instantly wanted to cheer. Secretly I hoped she would say we were all going on a gap year to Durmstrang. There was something so mysterious about it!

“We’ve enrolled y/n at Beauxbatons as we’ll be moving there in August!” Dad positively beamed towards us all. Obviously they expected a rush of excitement about this, but what were we meant to say? I stared at my mother.

“Without Fred and George?” My mom nodded a little sadly to confirm my worst fear.

“But I’m sure you could all write letters or something!” My dad piped up. I felt like crying, but I couldn’t cry in front of Fred and George. Well, I could. They’d be very supportive, but I didn’t want to show them just how upset I was about it.

“Excuse me,” I pushed aside my plate and left. I bounded up the stairs to my room, which was decorated with Holyhead Harpies posters. In a matter of moments my world had come crashing down. Beauxbatons was in France for Merlin’s sake! I would be completely and utterly alone. I sighed quietly, and opened up my window, leaning against the window sill.

It was quiet for a long time, the only sound I could hear being my own shallow breath as I tried to control my tears. A freckle covered arm nudged mine, and when I looked to my right I saw my best friend.

“You know that nothing will change, right?” He asked quietly, and I laughed humorlessly.

“Everything will change, Freddie. I can’t abuse Snape with you guys, or be the youngest chaser on the quidditch team. I want to go to Hogwarts.” I leaned my head on Fred’s shoulder, and he let out a long breath.

“We can write to each other every week. Yeah, we can do that. Everything will be the same, nothing could tear us apart.” It was quiet again.

“You promise?” I whispered, and he entwined his pinkie finger with mine.

“I promise.”

••••

Fred had fucking lied, I thought bitterly. We were sixteen now, and the letter exchanging had fallen through two years ago. I felt resentment rising in my chest, but I knew it was no one’s fault. It’s just the way that things unfold. Now, as I stood outside the Great Hall I had dreamt of entering my entire life, I had to still my hands as they involuntarily shook. I had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to even be afraid of really, and yet I couldn’t stop my heart from clouding my judgement as it always had as a child. Maybe there was just something about Fred that made me lose all inhibitions.

“Now!” Madame Maxine shrieked, and the doors flew open with a resounding bang. There was a split second where we froze, the eyes of Hogwarts on us. It wasn’t until the older girls flew forward did the rest of us, and without even seeing him I just knew where Fred was sitting.

Something about a sixth sense, our parents used to say. I was Fred’s twin instead of George, with how finely tuned our minds were. We were always able to sense when something had happened to the other, or pinpoint the exact location of one another despite being apart.

I willed myself to look away from the flurry of red robes in the centre table. Knowing my luck, I would see a Weasley with questions written all over their face. It was something I couldn’t handle right now. Something that maybe I would never be able to handle. I curtseyed when I was supposed to, eyeing a yellow-robed boy who winked at me, and we continued marching forward.

I knew that the house of courage was the next house to be curtseyed to, and I decided that if I had gone to Hogwarts, I definitely wouldn’t have made it into that house. I stared at the ground as I curtseyed and continued forward. During the dance we performed I was looking at the roof or the ground, anywhere but the sea of students in front of us. We hurried to the side, and I made the fatal mistake of looking into the crowd.

Right into the eyes of a smiling Fred Weasley.

••••

I sat down angrily at the Ravenclaw table. I’m not sure if anger was the right word for what I was feeling. But really how else am I supposed to describe the heartbreak, the sense of loss, and fear I felt. It was all too much. I simply couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. Especially as it was the hall we had so expertly planned our pranks, and conversations, and lives for.

What hurt the most, quite possibly, was knowing that there had never been a relationship to begin with. I wasn’t sure how old I was when I realised Fred was definitely better looking than most, and at some point during our letter exchange I had begun to fall for my friend.

“Y/n?” My friend Marie nudged me. “You looked beautiful out there!” She encouraged me eagerly, seeing that I was incredibly quiet.

“Merci, Marie.” I managed a small smile towards her. “I just feel a bit out of place,” I shrugged.

“Well, I’m sure any number of boys here are eager to make sure we feel right at home,” Marie wiggled her eyebrows towards me as I let out a small laugh. I rolled my eyes before picking up a fork. “What about...” Her eyes scanned the room for a minute.

“That one!” She pointed towards the Gryffindor table. I nearly choked on my piece of potato when I saw that of all the boys in the room, she had picked him...

Fred Weasley’s eyes burned into mine again. I couldn’t stand it a moment longer and I murmured a quick excuse before rising from the table and leaving the hall hurriedly.

••••

When making the choice of leaving the hall, I had forgotten one thing. I didn’t know my right from left in this fucking castle. Everything was dimly lit, and there were endless corridors and nooks that aided in my getting hopelessly lost. I could vaguely recall the halls from Hogwarts: A History, but that had been six, seven years ago.

Eventually, I gave up and collapsed into a secluded corner. All things considered, there could have been a worse spot to allow four years of harsh feelings catch up to me. The starlight dimly illuminated by shaking hands, and bounced off of my silvery blue skirt. It was altogether peaceful, apart from my soft shuddering sobs.

“Hey,” a voice suddenly broke the secrecy of my break down.

“Fred, I don’t want to see you right now.” I groaned. His warm brown eyes and soft freckles were too much. They still made my heart flutter and my head spin. As if I was soaring through the air on my broom again, a little girl having a crush on a little boy.

“What? Why not?” He asked, flabbergasted. I turned the other way, and began to trace the soft patterns of my wand, as I often did when I was nervous.

“We’re not friends anymore. You clearly forgot me.” I accused him. It felt good to finally see him and show him how awful he had been to stop writing.

“You’re the one who stopped writing to me!” He fired back, and I slowly shook my head. He had ignored my letters for over a year and had the nerve to lie to my face about it.

“Go. Away.” I coldly turned, and positively bolted down the hall. The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. Letters had begun growing scarce around our third/fourth year, and it was seemingly reasonless. The trail had truly gone cold at the end of our fourth year, and that was when the real heartbreak had set in. What a time to be alive.

••••

“George, did you keep writing to y/n?” Fred was sprawled on one of the many lounges in the Gryffindor common room, while George was lying at his feet.

“No, we never even started writing to each other,” He shrugged. Y/n and George had never been quite as close, and they naturally fell out of touch when she moved.

Fred pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his robe pocket, and lovingly smoothed it out.

“She stopped writing to me in fourth year.” Fred whispered. At this George sat bolt upright. The thought of Fred and Y/n not being best friends was a startling one, one that had never come across his mind.

“What do you mean?” George asked, clearly stunned. His twin and y/n had written weekly for as long as he could remember. “Why didn’t you check if it got lost?” Fred shook his head.

“I did George,” He held up the crumpled paper he was holding. His pained expression was almost too much for the twin to bare. “I wrote four fucking times. This one was going to be my last hope,” He crumpled it back up, and shoved it into a pocket dejectedly.

“Oh Fred...” George sighed. “I suppose a prank on Gin is out of the question then?”

“I can’t right now.” Fred ribbed his face in his hand. He felt so lost and confused after his encounter with y/n. How could she have thought he would ever want to stop writing to her? Something must have happened to the letters, but he felt like he must be kidding himself if he thought that 5 different letters could get lost. Errol wasn’t that old, was he?

••••

I dressed quickly in the morning in my pale blue, silky uniform. Although I still sometimes wished that I had gone to Hogwarts, I had to say that the Beauxbatons uniform was much better. As I exited the dormitory I bumped into my friend Maurice who had just exited his dormitory.

“Salut!” Maurice greeted me cheerfully as we fell into step beside each other.

“Quoi de neuf?” I muttered. Though we all mostly spoke English around each other, we also had fun, shorter chats in French. At Beauxbatons they taught most classes in English, except for potions since it was so precise and they couldn’t risk as translational mix up.

“You okay y/n?” Maurice asked, pausing and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Aunty Lisa told me to keep an eye on you,” I sighed. Of course, mother would set my cousin on my tail to make sure I didn’t stress.

“Never better,” I grinned. “I might, er, run to the bathroom before breakfast,” I turned and threw a wave towards Maurice before I left. I hurried down a random corridor and hoped I’d be able to find a hufflepuff or something to show me to the great hall later.

For now, I didn’t pay any attention to where I was going as I slowly walked around. I let my eyes drink up the lovely sights of Hogwarts. It was still sinking in that I was finally seeing it, even if I was seeing it under much different circumstances than I had hoped. I ducked away into a corridor as I heard hurried footsteps coming up behind me. Unfortunately I had misjudged, and they were coming towards me, not passing me.

“Y/n?” I heard a voice that I vaguely recognised, but couldn’t place. “What are you doing here?” After a moment of thought I finally placed the voice to Percy Weasley.

Bloody hell, of the hundreds of student in the castle it seemed I’d only ever meet the Weasleys.

“Hello Percy,” I mustered up as much cheerfulness as I could and I tried to walk past him. He grabbed my arm, and I was forced to stop and converse with him.

“Well!” He smiled broadly, “How have you been?” Clearly he had a much different memory of how close we had been, because he was acting about ten times kinder than I’d expect.

“Really well, thank you.” I turned my lips up, hoping to achieve a smile. “Are you hoping to participate in the tournament?”

“Oh heavens,” He laughed in a very uptight manner. “No, no. I work for the ministry now.” He said with an air of self importance.

“Well, congratulations.” I spoke, with a hint of sarcasm and I made to excuse myself.

“Would you like me to walk you to breakfast?” I cringed as my escape was foiled.

“Er, actually, I was heading to my dorm.” I lied on the spot, cursing the sound of my grumbling tummy.

“Oh! Which tower are you in?” I again cursed my poor lie. Thankfully, I was saved (or further doomed) by Fred coming around the corner.

“Y/n! Can we please talk?” Fred sprinted towards me and grabbed my hand. I saw some sort of emotion flicker cross Percy’s eyes as I shouted good bye and followed Fred. I laughed once we turned a corner.

“Thanks Freddie,” I grinned a moment, forgetting I was meant to be angry with him. One more look at his honey brown eyes sent the negative emotions straight into my heart, however. “I’ll be going now,” I began to leave haughtily.

“No. You won’t.” Fred begged. “Please let me talk to you.” I nearly yielded, but couldn’t stand the idea of my heart broken again with excuses of why my friendship wasn’t worth it.

“I can’t talk to you, Fred. Merlin, it hurts for me to even look at you. It’s heartbreak if I’ve ever known it.” I whispered quietly before racing away. Somehow I ended up in the Great Hall, with snot and tears on my face.

Before entering, I gently cleaned my face with a charm, and reapplied the natural makeup I had on. Determined to brave the hall before risking running into another Weasley, I calmly walked towards the Ravenclaw table.

“Oh Marie,” I groaned. It was I could do to keep my composure and not sprawl my head onto the table. Luckily, as my best friend she was able to see this. She patted my back gently, and placed a fresh chocolate croissant on my plate. “Thank you” I smiled.

“Of course,” She smiled back towards me. “Did you get lost?” She giggled slightly.

“More hopelessly than you could ever know!” To her this would seem like dramatic flair, however I truly felt lost at heart. Unsure how to proceed between Fred’s excuses, Percy’s kindness, and the stress of possibly entering the tournament. I wanted to believe that Fred was telling the truth about the letters, but it didn’t add up.

The last letter I had sent before Fred stopped writing had been a special one. I had been unable to hold in my feelings towards him any longer. At the end of the letter I had explained that I loved him. Not in the sisterly, or friendly way that I had previously led him to believe. But a real love.

Of course he stopped writing. I couldn’t blame him. But I had hoped that he wouldn’t let in stop our friendship. It had hurt. It still hurt, because even though I was young I also knew more than ever that I loved Fred.

“I heard that a ministry official is going to ask you to the ball, y/n.” Marie whispered in that way of hers, and I stared aghast.

“What? Surely that’s illegal.” I whispered back, and Madame Maxine stared at us over the rim of her glasses. I swallowed before picking up my quill.

“Nothing’s illegal for ministry officials, silly. Have you heard of Percy Weasley before?” I froze. Percy fucking Weasley.

“No, I haven’t. He sounds like a proper nonce.” Marie and I broke into peels of laughter, and another look from Madame silenced us.

“Will you say yes?” Marie had long mastered the ability to speak with her mouth closed, and had tried in vain to teach me.

“Absolutely not.” I replied, and the sounds we heard for the rest of the lesson were quill scratching parchment and our headmistresses voice.

It was on my way to another lunch in the gardens that I was ambushed by arguably my favourite Weasley.

“Hey Georgie.” I couldn’t help the old nickname fall from my lips, and he smiled at me.

“I’ve missed you.” He said, and I smiled sadly.

“I’ve missed you too, silly. I assume you didn’t find me for pleasantries though. You were never the most tactful Weasley, were you?” I laughed at the look of sheer outrage on George’s face, and he eventually chuckled.

“Rumour has it that you stopped talking to my brother a year ago.” He said, and I sighed.

“Fred stopped writing to me after I sent him a letter confessing how I felt about him. Take that as you will, but I took it as a clear rejection.” I took a deep breath, now able to say Fred’s name without falling into pieces. George stopped.

“What? Fred said you stopped talking to him, and I don’t like to think of my brother as a liar.” He said hotly, and I stared at him.

“Am I a liar, Georgie?”

It was quiet for a long time.

“No, you’re not.”

“Miss L/n!” I should have known that I couldn’t escape Percy Weasley. He was relentless, and I wondered if he knew what the word no meant.

“Hi, Percy. I’m actually on my way to class, I’m afraid.” I tried to end the conversation before it could begin, but no such luck.

“Perfect! I’ve been meaning to walk you to class for a while! Gentlemens chivalry and all.” He looped an arm under mine and I reluctantly started walking.

“Now that I’ve got you here, I wonder how you managed to rank top three in all of your classes. Naturally, I always ranked top five, but that’s mildly less impressive. I think it goes without saying that I topped most of my NEWT’s, but I’m still intrigued on what your methods are. There’s still plenty of learning and memorising that goes on at the Ministry, you see, and I think that you and I would make a great team. Who knows, maybe you can be my assistant when I’m Minister of Magic one day.” I tuned Percy out as quickly as I could. Really, I couldn’t think of anyone who would actually want to listen to Percy for five minutes, let alone the rest of his life.

I thought wistfully of Fred during the walk to my class, and how much my heart ached at the mention of his name. Maybe I had been harsh on him. Suppose our letters had been lost in the post? It wasn’t unlikely, and it sure would explain why he seemed so confused and upset.

“Well, this is my stop.” I interrupted him as he droned on and on and on and on and-

“It was a pleasure as always.” Percy picked up my hand and I tried not to gag as he kissed it. Was there anything quite as horrible as this was? I didn’t think so. Oh, maybe your best friend cutting contact with you after you confess your love to him. My life was going spectacularly.

“See ya.” I darted inside the classroom, spying Maurice and Marie sitting by the door.

“Hey, y/n.” They chorussed. I noticed with relief that Madame hadn’t arrived yet, and I slid into the seat beside Maurice.

“Salut.” I sat in silence thinking about how weird Percy was, when my breath caught in my throat.

I hadn’t been ranked top three in every class this year, and the last time I had been ranked top three must have been in fourth year. I recalled a quill in my hand as I wrote to Fred excitedly, and the emptiness I had felt upon not receiving a letter. Was it possible?

I think it was about time I had another chat with George.

“Where are you going George?” Fred glanced up, half interested. His gaze was still fixed on the list of products him and his brother were assembling.

“Ah, just for a stroll,” George explained as he subtly picked up Fred’s robe instead of his own. The twin hardly nodded, as he became immersed once more in the list of clever tricks and treats they had assembled. George thanked Merlin for his good luck and slipped out the portrait hole.

Once safely in the corridor, George felt around in the inner pocket to find what he was looking for. Thankfully, it was right where Fred had left it. As always. George pulled out the crumpled parchment, but didn’t dare to open it. It was too personal he had decided. He was simply acting as a messenger, he reminded himself.

Y/n had invited George to meet her in the library after lunch. Thankfully, after being at the castle for nearly two months at this point, she knew her way around. Now, George thought, all that’s left to do is deliver a letter.

“George!” I hissed from a secluded corner of the library. This library was nice, but if I’m being honest I preferred the lighter atmosphere of the library at Beauxbatons.

“Oh! Hello y/n, fancy seeing you here!” George teased and winked towards me. In return I rolled my eyes, but still had to suppress a giggle at his overused joke.

“Look I need to ask-“ I began to feel a little flustered.

“How did I get my dashing good looks?” He ran a hand through his hair and struck a pose.

“No I-“

“Sorry doll, I’m taken. But I have a twin!” George sent finger guns my way, and pretended to swagger away.

“No! George!” As frustrating as it was, I had missed George’s little jokes. “Did you know Percy had a crush on me?” I questioned firmly. George’s jaw dropped open.

“I mean-“ He ribbed his neck sheepishly “We used to suspect it in first and second year. But Fred beat him up about it and we thought that was that!” I buried my face in my hands, cringing at the very thought. Merlin’s soggiest sock couldn’t make this any worse.

“I think I know what happened,” I sighed. I felt defeated, and mean. I couldn’t believe the things I had said to Fred. How I’d brushed him away. Now the task at hand was talking to that Weasel that had ruined everything.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what conclusion you’ve reached,” George gently spoke. “But I think you should read this,” Before he left he pressed the folded, crumpled parchment into her hand.

“George!” Fred sang out as soon as George entered their dorm room. “I have a plan!” He leaped from bed to bed in a happy spirit that often accompanies new hopes.

“I’m going to ask y/n to the ball!” He exclaimed. George sighed, unsure how his brother thought this would instantly fix things. Luckily for Fred, George had pulled a few extra strings for the odds to be completely in his favour.

“Marie!” I sobbed as she came into the dorm. This was probably not how she expected to find me tonight, and the shock on her face was obvious.

I had ripped the covers off of my bed and wrapped them around me like a large cocoon. Then I had promptly laid down and cried for the better part of an hour. At least it was a good test of my makeup setting charm.

The letter is what did it. Oh! The letter! I cradled it ever closer to my heart as I sobbed again. He had written with all the heartbreak I had felt, with all the love I had felt, with all of the friendship I had felt. And it never got to me! Just as my letter never got to him!

“He loves me Marie!” I gasped. “He wrote me five letters.” Marie, like the true friend she was, promptly crawled into the cocoon with me and began to rock me softly.

“Hush, mon caneton,” she whispered. I steadied my breathing and hugged her tightly. Thank goodness that we had both decided to come on this trip. I don’t know what I would have done without her.

“I love him too,” I admitted.

“Well what are you waiting for?” Marie asked with a knowing look on her face, and I slowly nodded. She was right.

“Go attack that little weasel.” I laughed in delight, and Marie gave me a soft shove out of our cocoon of blankets.

“Go!” She repeated, and with another shove I stumbled out of our room. I had no clue where I would find a certain Percy Weasley at this hour, and I didn/t quite know where to begin. Only one person reminded me of Percy, and I figured I may as well head to his room.

“Professor Snape.” I smiled politely as he opened the door after I knocked, and he merely scowled.

“Pray tell me what you are doing outside of my classroom.” He sneered, and I stopped smiling.

“Do you know where I can find-” I was rudely interrupted by none other than the man of the hour.

“Miss L/n! How I’ve longed to see you!” Percy popped out from being Snape, and I found myself being guided away from the dungeons by the very person I wanted to slap.

“I’m sure I have longed to see you more.” I said, and he squeezed my shoulder. I almost threw up, right then and there.

“Why were you looking for me, my dearest?” I was two seconds away from punching the smarmy bastard in the face, and I took a deep breath.

“I just wanted to let you know that if you ever try to come between Fred and I again, the letters you stole will be the least of your worries. I will ruin you, Weasley, and you better not forget it.” I snarled as I shoved his shoulder before walking off, and the stunned silence fueled my satisfaction.

It was time to find my Weasley.

Twenty minutes later and I couldn't find a trace of him. My heart sunk to my stomach. What if my coolness had finally gotten through and he had given up? Was he avoiding me? I slumped into my seat at dinner and leaned my head on Marie's shoulder.

"I can't find him," I sighed. She reached over and patted my back while she swallowed her bite of quiche.

"Well, he couldn't have gone too far!" She attempted to cheer me up. Out of habit, my eyes wandered over to the area where Fred and George usually sat. I raised an eyebrow as I found that their spots were empty. Loud footsteps behind me caught my attention and I snapped my head around the other way.

Thank Merlin, it was George. He was jogging towards me and his robes flapped behind him.

"Y/n!" He greeted me once he was within earshot. I waved and grabbed another piece of pizza.

"You play quidditch at Beauxbatons, right?" Marie perked up beside me and grinned before proceeding to sing my praises.

"She's only the best chaser I've ever seen! You should've seen last sea-" I cut her off, blushing furiously.

"Yes. I play quidditch." I rolled my eyes.

"Great, can you help me with something?" George begged. I nodded and followed him out of the room. The sun was just beginning to set, and the air was quite chilly. I wondered what he could possibly need help with at this time. Especially since quidditch had been cancelled this year!

After we left the hall, and I was extremely puzzled what was happening I began to ask a few quesitons.

"Do you know where Fred is? I can't find him," I asked George who looked completely bewildered.

"Fred? No I have no idea!" His voice reached incredibly strange pitches and I realised quite quickly that he was lying.

"So. What do you need my help with?" I suppressed a grin as I began to see what was happening.

"Er," There was a pause while George thought of what exactly he had summoned me for. Luckily for him, Ron and Ginny were walking by at that exact moment. "Ron was thinking of trying out for keeper!" He explained desperately.

Ginny's eyebrows shot up, and she slugged Ron in the arm.

"Good for you little brother!" Ron's face burned red as they walked away and he began to make excuses.

"Don't we need Ron for this then?" I grinned at George, and he began to mutter something under his breath.

The rest of the walk passed relatively quickly as George and I caught up about everything that had happened since I moved. We easily fell into conversation thanks to Fred keeping us both updated on the other. Finally we arrived at the field.

"Godric! I'm late for something." George looked at his non-existent watch and ran away before I could stop him.

"What the hell?" I muttered as I began walking back to the exit of the quidditch pitch. Unfortunately, in my angry haze I tripped right over a broom that was lying on the grass. Gingerly, I picked it up, and paused. Why not, I thought, as I mounted the stray broom.

"Y/n!" From a distance, I thought George had come back. I sped forward slightly, moving the broom precisely and smoothly to greet him. Of course, by 'greet' I meant cast a harmless hair changing charm. Luckily (for his sake,) I quickly noticed it was Fred. Unluckily (for my sake) I was now incredibly flustered and unsure what to say. I chanced a timid wave, and thanked Merlin when he returned it, equally timidly.

"I'm sorry!" I instantly shouted, speeding down from my perch in the sky. I pulled out of the short dive just a few feet off of the ground.

"No y/n," Fred shook his head "I'm sorry. I should have known you would never stop writing." He stared at his feet, looking ashamed. "Must've been that goddamn bird," He let out a nervous laugh, but continued to stare at the ground. I didn't want to bring Percy into this yet. He didn't deserve a place in what I hoped would become a treasured memory.

"It wasn't your fault," My heart was breaking at the pain on his face. But how do you break this sort of news kindly? "I shouldn't have thought you would stop writing either, I just-" I trailed off, unsure what to say.

"What was in that last letter you sent?" He asked glancing up. I paused, hopping off my broom. Fred followed in his actions, and our eyes finally met.

"Wait, you never even saw it?" I knew that he'd most likely never seen it, but I had always imagined Percy had let him receive it at least. Little did I know the precision that Percy carried out his plans with.

He had begun by snatching a letter here and there. Laying the foundation for doubt of each other's consistency of correspondence. He had saved the letters sent by me, burned the ones sent by Fred, and written his own imaginary replies. I had become an obsession for him. So much so that when he saw me this year, he thought we would instantly pick up where we had left off in his imagined reality.

The day I had sent the letter to Fred. That all important letter. He had taken it and saved it for himself. Looking upon my words of love, and imagining they were from him. The thought of Percy receiving those words instead of Fred brought tears to my eyes.

"No," He admitted.

"I wanted to tell you-" I cut myself off. What if all Fred was searching was the friendship we had previously shared? I bit my tongue and held a silent debate until I finally plucked up my courage.

"I love you," I let the sweet words fly away towards him. I hoped they'd be returned. That their fragile wings would be cradled, rather than crushed. A momentary surprise froze Fred. The stress of the situation made those few seconds feel like hours. Hours of anguish and feeling entirely exposed and unprotected. Finally, Fred sprang in to motion. He rushed towards me, as his lips found mine, my eyes fluttered closed. It was just Fred and I, the aligned planets watching as their plan fell into place. Fred tasted like strawberries and he sucked softly on my lip. I couldn’t help from running my hand through his messy hair, and I felt him grin into the kiss.

"Go to the Yule ball with me my darling?" He asked softly as we broke apart.

"Of course my love," I let my head rest on his strong chest as we let the last flickers of sunset wash over us.

The ball had approached much quicker than expected. Over the past two weeks, a lot had happened. First, I had explained to Fred what Percy had done. I didn't want to create a rift between the brothers, but it was the only way to fully explain and resolve the situation. Fred had looked very solemn, and confronted Percy who denied everything. Unfortunately for him, he carried around my last letter with him which was quite incriminating when we discovered it.

Fred and I had hardly spent a moment away from each other.

I had a periwinkle blue mini dress on, which hugged tightly around me. Over top, I had a sheer silvery blue gown that shimmered like stars as I moved. All of the Beauxbatons girls had picked something of the same color scheme, but this dress felt so me that I didn't mind. After curling my hair into delicate ringlets I helped Marie curl her hair and then we left.

I took a deep breath as we glided down the stairs after Madam Maxine. I could hardly contain my excitement. My heartbeat felt similar to when I was anticipating a particularly good match of quidditch.

Fred was standing there looking spectacular in his dress robes. He had charmed his tie to be a periwinkle blue, and he was holding a small bouquet of lavender flowers. The moment I smelled them, I remembered that moment with him on that broom. I remembered the rush of adventure, the hint of recklessness, but most importantly: the trust. I trusted him so much.

He took my hand, and we silently walked into the ball. It almost felt too perfect. Too cliche, not unique enough for such a special story. Our story that we were writing one page at a time.

After a few songs spent pleasantly dancing, laughing, and whispering lost words to each other I had an idea.

"Freddie?" I whispered as I leaned my head onto his chest.

"Mmm?" He swayed us gently to the sweet music.

"Can we leave?" I asked. "I want to go on a broom with you again," I explained. His face softened and he took my hand as we walked to the quidditch pitch.

Here we were. Up in the air again. I spread my arms, testing if my eagle wings were still there. They were. And as an eagle, I had finally reunited with my nest. I brought my wings back down to take hold of the broomstick. This time I was in control, and I'd had a bit more practice than 10 year old Fred had had. So, I sent us into a steep dive, almost until it felt like a free fall.

After the rush of adrenaline I soared back up until we reached the roof of Gryffindor tower. I couldn't stop myself from imagining how many sleepless nights we could've spent talking here. How many breakfasts, and boring classes I could've spent with him.

As I saw the moonlight softly reflect off of Fred's pale face I realised then and there. He was my soulmate. He was my perfect match. He was the person that I didn't want to spend a single minute without unless I absolutely had to.

I told him so too.

"Freddie," We were holding hands again as we laid on top of a soft blanket he had conjured to lay down on the roof. The incline of it was just barely safe to lay down on without sliding off. I didn't feel scared though, I had Fred to anchor me.

"You look beautiful in the moonlight y/n," He turned his lively eyes towards me. I blushed and smiled slightly.

"I love you so much," I began. He kept his eyes trained into mine. Giving me his full attention. "I don't want to lose you again, okay?" I took a somewhat shaky breath. " I just mean, the past couple weeks have felt like a dream.” I said, and Fred held my hand.

“I know, pretty girl. You won’t lose me again, not if there’s anything I can do about it.” I squeezed his hand back, and we watched the night sky in all its glory.

I was standing in my dorm room, nearly ready to leave when an owl flew into the window. Plonk, I realised it was poor Errol. It appeared he could hardly handle a flight around Hogwarts anymore. I tucked him into a small blanket and gave him an owl treat. He let out an appreciative coo and snuggled into the cozy nest I'd made. I unrolled the parchment, and twirled the sprig of lavender that had been in the ribbon between my fingers.

Dearest y/n,

Today you go back to Beauxbatons. I'm sorry I can't be there in person, but I'm happy to tell you everything is going really well.

The shop looks amazing, although they can't have it ready for us until some time next year. I figure this will work well anyway since we still have a few more products to perfect. (Thanks for helping us with the antidote for the puking pastilles by the way!!)

Also, the apartment will be perfect I think. We would be on one of the very top floors, so you might feel a bit at home given your talent for quidditch. It's close to diagon alley, but actually in muggle London, which I thought you might like. I said we'd take it within the next 8 months, since I'll obviously be leaving school before graduation and you'll be graduating in March.

I hope the carriage ride is fairly nice. I know it won't be perfect since yours truly isn't there (wink wink) but I hope I'll be able to visit soon! I have to go for another surprise I'm working on, but I'll owl soon. I have my eye out for lovesick, letter stealing brothers this time!

Yours forever and a day,

Freddie

#fred weasley x reader

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aroxfan · 3 years

Text

Okay but here me out, I'm a big Johnlock shipper but I need to point this out

Many shippers be like "Johnlock should have been canon in s4" or "they were made to be canon and Moftiss didn't want to gave us Johnlock that's rude" or idk

First thing first, I don't think any directors should write new season or movies based on what fans are asking for because it will be a mess and not automatically quality (!) but nvm because lets talk about how Johnlock is written

Just like most of realitionships in this show, they're rarely precised or we dont have many quotes saying honestly what's going on between people (Adlock the forever mystery). It's all about deductions (coincidence? The universe is rarely so lazy.) And that's what I looove in this show: almost nothing is clearly declared, we have to understand and deduce what's going on between people and how they feel, just like in real life and thats the complete opposite of a commercial show/movie. This show will not only make you think with its cases but its characters, and very few links are clear (that's why Sherlock best man speech or the I am Sherlocked were breathtaking).

So what about Johnlock? We have so many proofs that their friendship (or whatever ship it is) is damn strong but also very difficult. It's first obvious because of everything they went through together- the best examples are the 2 years of John mourning and the after Mary's death, but also just the hell which is living with bored-Sherlock-corpses-in-the-fridge and all the cases and times they risked their lives together and for each other. But Sherlock is also always asking for John presence and John is always coming to help Sherlock wherever he is. Their bond is non-negotiable.

So, to the sentences "they should have kissed on the tarmac" or "He should have told Jawn he loved him before jumping or before the grenade explode in tfp" , I'm gonna react just after taking a big step back

Because I ship them and of course I would have loved this BUT im being objective and here's what I think:

All the realtionships in this show are very precious because of this subtility (the "Sherlock's actually a girl’s name" subtility yes). This thin fence shouldn't be crossed because it would loose all it's magic. The thrill, the questioning, the fact that everyone can understand their link with the same scenes we all watched, that's awesome. Here the best way to show an evidence of love is not to say the words (the fact that the only time Sherlock says it is to Molly and he doesn't mean it) or a kiss or proposal (do I need to mention Jeanine?). No, here love is hugging a consulting criminal in a pool because you're covered of explosives, its shooting a man flicking your mate's face, it's stealing a royal ashtray, it's jumping from a rooftop or simply buying milk. It's everything they do for each other and all their gazes and all their laughs. They don't need to say it, they know. And as I previously said, this show is not gonna force fate by telling you what you need to know. It's life guys, guess by yourself, nobody is holding a big sign with his role in the story. The euphoria seeing them being official wouldn't be as long as the one of watching them for hours having such weird and funny conversations or drinking tea in silence at 221b.

They're perfect like that.

The lost detective without his blogger.

The sociopath who prefers his doctors clean shaven.

The two of them against the rest of the world.

And sincerly I don't need to ask for more than a so deep realtionship which sounds better for me than a common "I love you"

So lets thank Moftiss for having written a so fascinating love story, whatever kind of love it is

but still love

#sherlock #john watson #johnlock #quotes #bbcsherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #moftiss #sherlockian #watson #benedict cumberbatch #martin freeman

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rainydayhogwartsimagines · 4 years

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This might be pretty vague... Can I please request a Fred x plus-size reader? Maybe a Hufflepuff who feels she can't compete with the Angelina Johnsons and Fleur Delacours?

I got you fam.

Trigger warnings: lot of bullying goin on here. Set in a non voldy au

You were friends with Fred and George

You had no idea why they decided to befriend you but they did

Fred was always so sweet to you a part of you thought it was out of pity

George fucking loved hanging out with you though, he was your best friend

Angelina was sweet to you too, always listening to your problems in exchange of you doing the same

Then fifth year came

That fucking goblet of fire.

God you hated it. More than words could say.

Draco always had this problem with you existing even though you were usually nice.

You always thought the kid was misunderstood but jesus christ he was a dick

"are you going to join the goblet of fire Y/n? Maybe you should see if there's a weight competition, you'd have them beat." Draco would tease.

Fred would find new ways to make his life a LIVING. HELL.

From rigging his cauldron to explode to dyeing his hair Gryffindor colors

Fred seemed to be very much pissed off on your behalf

George took calmer approaches until Draco would say something way out of line

Then it was free reign

All bets were off if he made you cry

Both of the twins would fuck up his world

Fred and George did put their names in the goblet of fire

You debated on putting yours in but decided against it

You didn't want to be a spectacle.

You really enjoyed hanging out with the boys though and Fred seemed to take a REALLY strong liking to you

You kind of formed a crush on him because like...

Look at him.

How could you NOT fall for that guy

You loved to sit in the library and talk with him.

He'd always have his head resting on his arms while you read

He'd just look at you and when you'd notice you'd ask if something was wrong.

He'd smile and just say "Nope. Just starin'" and you'd roll your eyes with that smile he always loves to see and go back to reading

The Yule ball came up and it was becoming a bit of a thing amongst the Slytherins to ask you as a joke

To which George would find ways to torture each of those little bastards.

Fred was not made aware of this issue

Yet.

You really wanted to go with Fred but you knew with Fleur Delacour and Angelina right there you didn't stand a chance

Which was false. Obviously.

You loathed the dance class because you wanted to just sit through it and go unnoticed

But McGonagall insisted you needed to participate

So you did and Fred offered to teach you how to dance.

You were practically shaking the entire time and Fred was really patient the entire time.

"Fucking... This is terrible." You mumbled.

"What's got you so anxious Princess?" He asked curiously.

You loved that little nickname.

"I can feel people staring. I do not like being made aware of." You muttered

"Well they can't help but look, you're gorgeous after all." Fred said.

You gulped and finally got the hang of it

"I was wondering... Would you like to go to the Yule with me?" He asked.

You frowned.

"Who the hell put you up to this?" You asked.

"No one?" He said confused.

"I swear to God if one more bet comes my way--"

"Woah woah woah. What bet?" Fred asked.

Now he was aware of the situation.

And he was pissed.

He assured you that no one put him up to it though and that he genuinely wanted to go

You kept trying to tell him "But Angelina and you would be so much better-- or- or Fleur!? Don't you like Fleur!?"

To which he'd simply say "Y/n I want to go with you."

You were so paranoid that it was a bet

But it was made clear after Fred left a massive stink bomb in the Slytherin common room that it wasn't

They literally could not go in there for a week.

You ended up looking gorgeous that night

Like drop dead gorgeous

Which you always are (slay queen. Slay)

But God damn you were out of this world

You came down the stairs and Fred nearly passed out.

"Y/n... Love you look... Wow." He gaped.

"T-thank you." You said with a blush.

You two danced for a little bit but because Fred knew you weren't a fan of big crowds you kind of ditched.

You ended up sitting in the astronomy tower with a plate of cookies you two snagged from the kitchen.

"Had fun tonight?" Fred asked.

"Yeah... Loved it." You nodded with a smile.

"Fred... Why did you ask me?" You asked.

"Because you're amazing and I wish you could see that." Fred said.

"Plus... I like you Y/n. You're funny, you're kind... You're the whole package." Fred said with a smile.

"....But I'm not... I'm not as pretty as--" "Y/n you're beautiful. Absolutely stunning. I wish you would see that." Fred said softly.

You smiled and Fred looked over. "Well... Do you feel the same way?" Fred asked.

"Well duh dipshit." You laughed making him smile.

You two are a cute ass couple

Like you make other couples feel single as fuck

Fred absolutely adores you, he loves listening to you talk

If Draco even dares to look at you the wrong way it does not bode well for that kid.

He loves kissing you (when does he not like to do that though?)

He treats you like a QUEEN

Let someone insult you

Let them

Fred will not allow anyone to fuck with his girlfriend and George wouldn't let anyone say shit about his best friend.

You love to go over for the summer

Fred loves having you there and Molly thinks you're an absolute sweetheart.

Fred most definitely loves you.

No question.

Don't even act like you doubt it because he will literally make a hand written list of reasons why he does love you.

It's six pages

Hogsmeade dates are so fun

He loves seeing you wear his scarf.

It's like a way to be like: "this queen next me is mine and I'm her king bitches"

Fred isn't bothered by how anyone looks honey.

He sees past that and he LOVES you. Just the way you are.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley

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ariella884 · 4 years

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Voyager Book Club - February Favorite Fics

So I put forth a challenge of sorts to our Voyager Book Club. I asked everyone to pick ONE Voyager fic that they consider to be their favorite. Now, you can imagine, this is pretty freaking hard! There are so many incredible fics out there. I didn’t say it had to be the best written, or the most in character. I gave examples such as: the one you read over and over or your go-to fic, however you want to phrase it. It was pointed out that a favorite fic can change every hour based on your frame of mind and what you are in the mood to read at any one moment. I get it. Even so....I challenged everyone to only pick ONE. And they did it! Or most of them! I got around 20 different favorites picked! So here is the list of our Favorite Voyager Fics, why they were chosen and by whom. Happy Reading!!

Note: Click on the name of the fic for a link to it! Also, this list is in no particular order.

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@curator-on-ao3: ‘Fragile Things’ by @mia-cooper

“Fanfic is about exploring possibilities. That’s what put this fic over the top to be my favorite. In Fragile Things, MiaCooper examines multiple versions of one relationship, pulling different threads to see how things unravel or knit together. It’s thoughtful, it’s meta, it’s realistic as hell, it’s damn good writing — it’s MiaCooper and it’s excellent.”

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@ariella884(yep, that’s me!): ‘2013′ by PCBW (@pcbw)

“I had a hard time choosing my favorite (like most people here), mostly because as i was gathering them all from everyone else I kept seeing ones and going, ‘Oh! I love that one!’. I also didn’t want to have any duplicates so I had to change mine a couple times, that being said, 2013 is easily one of my top three (which of themselves is almost impossible to pick just one. I’m lucky that my other two were chosen already and I didn’t have to!). I love 2013 because it is a modern AU, without being a completely modern AU. No, that doesn’t make sense. But you get our Janeway and Chakotay, Starfleet officers and all, and you get them in the modern world. It’s incredible! We see the challenges they go through of being taken from everything they know and put into a world that is pretty much unknown to them. Add to that the personal differences they have to work out together. Splash in the normal challenges that we all go through when trying to live a life in this day and age (jobs, house, money, love, family, etc). This is just an incredibly beautiful story that I have read many times and will continue to read over and over. It’s also a long fic and those are my favorite because I like to get completely involved in stories!”

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@mia-cooper: ‘Deceiving’ by QuantumSilver

“Because it starts with a canon event that is absolutely devastating and shows just how devastated Janeway and Chakotay are by it (and Tuvok and Ayala as well, though they only make a brief appearance). It shows Janeway at her absolute best - every last inch the captain, going above and beyond for her crew not just physically but emotionally in spite of the absolutely gut-wrenching cost to her - and it really kicks off with one of my absolute favourite tropes: mutual pining to the Nth Fucking Degree.

It has Chakotay being every bit the commander, backing her up even though he's dying inside, and REFUSING to let her shut herself away even though he KNOWS she's going to want to murder him for pushing and pushing and pushing at her.

And then OH MY GOD, he's deliberately getting on her every last nerve just so he can wrench honesty from her because he knows if she doesn't tell him how badly he's hurt her, how she's absolutely bottomed out because of him, she will never open up to him or anyone else again.

AND THEY DRINK WHISKEY OMG GIVE ME KJ AND C UTTERLY MISERABLE AND DRINKING WHISKEY LIKE IT'S WATER AND PINING LIKE FUCK AND NOT SAYING A WORD BUT BLEEDING TO DEATH FROM THE HEART AND I WILL DIE HAPPY FOREVERRRRRRR

I'm sorry for yelling but this fic makes me want to rip off my clothes and run up and down the street screeching how everybody should read it and they are just BRUTAL with each other and they STILL do not understand, refuse to, CANNOT understand, that the other would not just die for them but MURDER WHOLE FUCKING ARMIES FOR THEM and it's tragic and devastating but then oH MY GOoOoOODDDDD

So that is my favourite fic and the one i read approximately every two months or more if i really hate my writing that day and want to torture myself with How It Should Be Done.”

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@bizships: ‘Fealty’ by MsDisdain

“My favorite story. I honestly don’t have to think about it. It’s one I always go back to.

I love the way the crew pledges their loyalty to her and the way subtle way they tell her that it’s okay that she’s happy too in that they effectively give her Chakotay for her birthday, by way of him “fighting” Tuvok(Starfleet) for her hand.”

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@arcadia1995: ‘The Space Between’ by lauawill ( @joyful-voyager)

“The Space Between is a story I return to time and time again when I'm feeling down. I like that it realistically portrays what might have happened between Janeway and Chakotay right after the returned home in Endgame. I like that no one in the J/C/7 triangle ends up being a bad guy. I like the hopeful ending and imaging what might have happened after the fade to black (lots of sex!!!)“

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@wishful-thinker-87 : ‘if you came this way’ by tree

“It’s always a go to for me, even though I don’t usually like AUs. The sex is intense and emotional. The characterization is pot on. And we get Phoebe being an awesome sister and some Chakotay/Molly bonding too. What’s not to love?!”

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BlackVelvet: ‘Bluffing the Crowd’ by @ralkana

“Even after years since i read this, just thinking about this story brings a warm fuzzy feeling to my heart and a huge silly grin to my face. I simply love it.”

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@purpledog47: ‘The Future is Ours’ by Dawn

“My favorite is most definitely Dawn’s ‘The Future is Ours. This is my one fic. It’s super long and it tells us what happened after Endgame and it has a little bit of everything in it: angst, romance, hurt/comfort, Q, babyfic, romance.”

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@amoderngirl: ‘Time and Distance’ by northernexposure

“If I am ever loosing the thread with J/C, I can always read this and I am immediately in love again.”

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@coffeeblack75: ‘Soft Light’ by northernexposure

“There are so many reasons why I love it that I can't even, haha. I'll start with: it was the first piece of fanfic smut I read, so I love it for that reason - my first time haha. More importantly, it is just beautifully, beautifully written - it's plotted beautifully, it flows beautifully and the pacing is spot on. The author has complete control over all of that & over the language, which is just used masterfully. There's so much subtley going on in this story too - the author doesn't spell everything out for us and instead draws us to the details that reveal what is important - the beginnings of these two getting to know each other. Gosh, it's so hard to articulate haha! But lines like this just make me shiver in delight for their beauty and what they reveal: "he was kissing her, with a lot more sweetness than was wise. Ah god, I could go on and on but perhaps I'll finish with my favourite bit, which is when C feels that first stab of lust & realises she might too & tests his theory by blowing softly on the back of her neck. This moment, omg, the moment is just so beautiful, so quiet, so pointed and private and intimate. You really feel that moment as if you are there. Ahhhhh :)

Also….there are two sequels to it that are equally as wonderful ;)

Oh and one more thing I adore about this story is the way that the C thinks he is lusting after KJ but it is quite obvious he loves her - even before they come together - but he hasn’t realized it yet. The way the author does this is just incredible - so deft! Everything for C is about taking care of KJ … it’s just beautiful.”

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@caladeniablue: ‘Lifeline’ by helenagray ( @picking-daisies-in-the-outfield)

“Why do I like that fic? An unfinished WIP at that (Started in 2013; last update in Jan 2019. No indication how many chapters to go.) The perfect serial story and that's part of the attraction for me.

The first chapter sets the scene: raw Janeway, alone, without the backup of her ship, her crew or Chakotay. Bare of essentials and with only her courage and intelligence and sheer determination to help her survive, and even she wonders how long those will last her.

And while we learn about Chakotay and how he seeks her while the crew has to move on, I am drawn to Janeway most of all.

The fic jumps back and forth across locations and in time from that first chapter to catch up with it again some 20 chapters later, but there is no jarring. The reader knows immediately what KJ is experiencing , but the past events that led to that situation are as important, and that's one of the many attractions of this story. No overlong flashbacks, no tedious info dump. It's all layered, making one wait for the next chapter and the next one, while knowing all the time where KJ has ended up.

The writing is gorgeous, which is a bonus. And it is pure J/C, distilled to its purest by separation. Perfect.”

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@keiraniels: ‘Bad Ensign’ (Series) by @curator-on-ao3

“Ok so I chose Curator’s ‘Bad Ensign’ because I come back to it often - - it’s such a freaking brilliant idea that I can 100% imagine being canon, and it inspired so many Voyager Bookclubbers to write Bad Ensign stories”

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@cnrothtrek: ‘War Torn’ by @curator-on-ao3

“Why? I had the pleasure of beta reading this story, and I am so glad that I did. It has a great plot, is well-written and perfectly paced, and is hard to put down. The way it pulls together two pieces of canon backstories for Miles O’Brien and Kathryn Janeway is genius. The characters feel so real and their voices can be clearly heard in the text. And the supporting characters of Captain Benjamin Maxwell, Will “Stompie” Kayden, and Molly Walsh are incredible. The story is intense, absorbing, and emotional. I just can’t say enough good things about it.”

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@theshortywrites: ‘The Dragonfly Oath’ by Koneia

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@emmikamikatze: ‘All the Good Things We Never Did’ by northernexposure

“This story brings me to tears, makes me smile and shiver and fear and worry. It's given me phrases that won't leave me, that keep repeating itself in my head even months (years) after first reading it. There's just the right amount of show trivia to make it a fanfiction, but little enough to make it a unique and original story. ne makes me fall in love with these characters all over again as if I didn't know them beforehand.

This story is special and precious and it speaks to me on so many levels I can hardly comprehend how genius it is. It's a literary masterpiece of fanfic if there ever was one.”

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@missmil: ‘Here I Stand’ by lauawill

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@manalyzer13: ‘Gravitation’ by northernexposure

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@grace-among-the-stars: ‘Filling the Void’ by Spiletta42

“Filling the Void is the one fic I always return to. It has my fave ships, JC, PT and D7. Minor characters play major parts and it is just funny. It makes me laugh every time.

JC’s relationship is really explored from all angles, this is not just your average, ‘the crew get them together fics’, it is so much more. It has sexual tension, smut, humour, sadness and is pure JC BLISS. It always cheers me up and I was so happy when Spiletta42 added it to Ao3 because this meant so many more people would find it.”

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Anonymous: ‘Bent, Not Broken’ by @killermanatee

“This is an incredible hurt/comfort Janeway/Chakotay fic. The story is painfully written from both characters' perspectives, showing how each is suffering in a different way from the traumatic event that has occurred. In the end, their love for each other will help them come together and they will both be able to heal with time, comfort, and support from one another. This is a beautifully told, emotionally heavy story of one couple's love overcoming tragedy. It is my favorite Janeway/Chakotay fic, and I recommend it to anyone who wants to read a heartbreaking yet fulfilling story.”

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@minakotenjou: ‘Mysterious and Curious’ by @h4t08

“It was so hard to choose - there are a lot of incredible fanfics out there. This was one of the first...shall we say spicier J/C fics I read and for some reason I still think of it often. It's great smut for sure, but I think it stuck with me because of how it all gets tied together at the end.”

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@leisylaura: ‘The Bitter End’ by @mia-cooper

“We have post endgame books but not one about the original timeline, I remember reading “The bitter end” and thinking “this is it, this is what happened”. I cried from beginning to end.”

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@killermanatee: ‘The Dying of the Light’ by @cnrothtrek

"This fic is such a gorgeous piece of art. I hadn't seen the TNG episode before reading it and when I did watch it I was very disappointed because this fic is just on such a completely different level. The storytelling is so delicate and intriguing, that combined with the poignant and elegant writing style, so that it was impossible to put my phone down. I can't recommend this fic highly enough."

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@cheile: ‘Marooned’ by Soliquilii9 (aka Running Horse)

“I love how she makes the story unfold in slow steady measures. Also, she filled in the gaps left by the writers in regards to his heritage by using information from her own Cherokee background and it is done naturally (not in an info dump type manner). “

__________

What do you think of our list of Voyager favorites? Do you have a favorite that isn’t on this list? Reply to this post with your favorite!! And if you haven’t read ALL of these fics yet, I strongly suggest you get started!! Have fun and enjoy!!

#voyager #star trek voyager #voyager fic #voyager book club #Voyager Favorite Fics

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takeiteasypeasybaby · 4 years

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Save Me: Chapter 48 - Love Conquers All

~Hey guys! Chapter 48 is out today :) I hope everyone enjoys it, there is some donnie love in this chapter ;)~

Molly finds her purpose and takes valuable advice from someone she trusts. She makes a realisation about herself and her relationship, but most importantly, about the type of person she is.

I stormed back up to the house, throwing open both doors as I barged through.

I ripped off my jacket and unhooked the holsters around my legs, kicking off my shoes simultaneously.

I paced in circles, clenching my fists and feeling like I could scream.

I spotted Gregory's old liquor cabinet and lunged for it like it was a safety raft.

I frantically pushed aside bottles, searching for the bourbon when Daryl came through into the house.

'Molly...' he said slowly like he was worried for me.

'Yes!' I yelled as I found the bourbon and with a shaking hand, I poured a full glass, gulping it down in one.

Daryl stayed silent, with only a raised brow to signal his concern.

I closed my eyes as the liquid soothingly burned my throat, only opening my eyes when Daryl repeated 'Molly'.

My eyes focussed on his like he was my prey as I yelled at him, saying 'what?!'.

'It was the only way' he said calmly.

I got up to my feet, placed down the drained glass and chuckled angrily, 'I could have done more, I should have protected her' I said as the smile faded from my lips.

Daryl looked down and said, 'she wasn't our problem to begin with'.

At this, I marched over to him, annoyed by his lack of compassion.

I tilted his head upward to meet my eyes as I said sternly 'she wasn't, she is now, so don't act like you don't care. You know what she went through...more than any of us'.

He remained silent but simply nodded slightly in agreement.

I went back over to the bourbon and poured another glass as Daryl left the room.

The liquor almost spilt as I sunk down onto the chair, my limbs feeling numb as I just sat in silence.

A couple hours later...

I sighed and walked back outside, grabbing my gun and putting in my back pocket just in case.

I saw Tara sitting at one of the picnic tables, her head resting on her folded arms.

She must have felt as badly as I did.

'You okay?' I asked as I sat on the other side.

'Are you?' she responded as she lifted her head up heavily.

'No, but I will be. We gotta be' I said, feeling deflated.

I looked to my right at the guard post which was strangely vacant.

I furrowed my brows and asked Tara anxiously 'where's Yumiko and Magna?'.

She hesitated, saying 'I didn't wanna tell you, I mean you already had enough to deal with...'.

'Tara' I said sternly.

'They went out to the forest, they weren't looking for Lydia, but they just needed to get out' she answered softly.

I sighed and balled my hands into fists in frustration.

'Fuck, they didn't ask me?' I said angrily.

Tara just shook her head in response.

'When did they leave?' I asked frantically as I stood up and walked towards the gates, Tara following after me.

'I think an hour ago' she admitted.

I turned back around and sighed, saying 'next time, tell me'.

I ordered the gates to be opened as I strode out to see Yumiko and Magna standing on the other side.

'Hey' Yumiko said nervously as Magna just folded her arms.

I asked cooly, 'whatcha find?'.

'Nothing' Magna said looking down.

'Look, it was wrong of us to leave. I just wish we'd realised that sooner. I should've...' Yumiko said sincerely.

'Tara saw you sneak out, I was coming to see if you guys were okay, I'm not taking any chances' I said calmly.

I looked down to the ground and exhaled.

'Look, I get why you did it, I needed space after that shit too. But, the next time you wanna leave or challenge one of my decisions, just come and talk to me about it' I said softly.

'If I'm honest, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing here' I said sadly.

'But I do know that I don't want any more people to die and that includes you guys too' I said smiling weakly which made Yumiko smile and Magna just nodded softly.

I suddenly had an idea and brought the guys back inside as I walked back up to the house.

'Uh oh, I know that look' Tara said as I walked past her, now smiling.

She hopped up and walked with me inside to our radio room.

I wired it up and tuned for a connection to Alexandria.

'Michonne, come in Michonne' I spoke through the walkie talkie.

'Auntie Molly!' a little voice on the other side excitedly.

'Judith?' I asked as I checked my watch, 'it's late, why aren't you in bed?' I added.

There was silence before she replied quietly, 'that doesn't matter, my mom needs you at Alexandria'.

'What? She didn't say anything since she left?' I asked curiously.

'There were walker masks found near Alexandria so everyone is freaking out! Negan as well!' she yelled.

'Shit, I can't leave right now Judith' I replied sadly.

'Language!' she shouted which made me chuckle.

'Sorry' I said quietly.

'Why is Negan worried?' I asked softly.

'I told him about Lydia so he's worried for you, he thinks you're not safe' she whispered.

'Judith! that's confidential right now' I said in faux annoyance.

'Well it's out now' she said nonchalantly.

I paused for a minute while I thought about what to do.

'Alright, I'll get there by tomorrow at noon' I said calmly.

'Yay!' Judith said excitedly as she said goodbye and disconnected the line.

Tara looked at me for a second, completely aware of what I was planning.

'I need to see Michonne, maybe we can join forces to fight these bastards and help Lydia in the process' I said proudly.

'Do you need me to take over while you're gone?' she asked.

'Are you sure Cindy won't mind you being here for a little while longer?' I asked with concern.

'She won't mind, she said she'll come down to Hilltop anyway, she always said she wanted to live here with me, now that Rachel is old enough to take over' she said happily.

I nodded as I smiled, feeling relieved to have an actual plan that could work.

The next morning...

I awoke refreshed and determined, I grabbed my rucksack, hopped on my bike and then I was off.

I hugged Judith who was waiting excitedly at the gates and spoke briefly to Michonne, explaining to her what Judith had told me.

She told me that I didn't need to come but she was all the more relieved that I had and that she would help us, because of the threat the whisperers posed to all of our communities.

I walked happily to the cell, knowing that I would get to see him again.

With everything going on at Hilltop, I felt at peace being in his presence.

'Hey' I said softly as I smiled at him.

He jumped up and clung to the bars, 'Molly, are you alright? Michonne told me what happened, fuck I'm so glad you're okay' he said frantically.

I smiled widely at his concern for me.

'I'm fine, but I need your advice' I said as I unlocked the door with the keys Seth had snuck me.

I think he secretly rooted for us.

He hugged me softly and kissed my forehead.

'That's what I like to hear' he said smirking down at me.

I ushered him over to his bed, so we could sit side by side.

'What did Judith tell you about Lydia?' I asked quietly.

'She said she was the leader's daughter and that the skins came for her' he said softly as I nodded in response.

'Her mother beats her, Negan. I can't stand the thought of her being with that woman, constantly in danger. I need to get her out of there, but I can't put my people at risk' I said worriedly.

Negan rubbed my back, knowing how stressed I was.

'Alright, you wanna know what I'd do?' he asked confidently.

I nodded slightly.

'That woman is a goddamn asshole beating on a kid, so screw em. Tell your people the risk, let them know what they're in for. Give them a choice, to follow you or not' he said passionately.

I could tell he missed this.

'That's not like you, since when do you give people a choice. I thought you would say punish them all!' I replied sarcastically.

'I would've, told ya I've changed' he replied smirking.

'I'm serious Moll, the kid needs you' he added as he stroked my face softly.

I closed my eyes and smiled at his touch, leaning in, I kissed him gently.

When we pulled away, I whispered 'thank you' against his lips.

I stood up about to leave but turned around in realisation.

'I always somehow find myself coming back to you, every time' I said softly as a smile grew across my face.

He looked up at me intensely.

'I know...that's when you know it's real' he replied with a slight smile, like he was overwhelmed by us.

He stood up and sauntered over to me.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, one hand cupping my chin as he pulled me in for another kiss goodbye.

I got lost in his lips and pulled away reluctantly which made him groan in frustration.

'To be continued...' I whispered as I smiled, reminiscing about when he spoke those words to me, all those years ago.

He immediately remembered and chuckled against my lips as I left the cell, passing the keys back to Seth to lock his door.

I smiled to myself, knowing now what I needed to do.

Little did I know then that Daryl would beat me to it.

Daryl's POV//

I packed a rucksack, grabbed my crossbow and made my way down to the gates.

I saw her, Connie, sat at the picnic bench.

She was writing something on her notepad when she suddenly looked up and smiled at me.

When she noticed me, I looked away immediately and walked awkwardly past her.

She jumped up after she finished writing and ran after me until she stopped in front of me.

'Where are you going?' she had written on the pad.

I paused before I took out the notepad she gave me and pulled up the page Henry had left me, 'couldn't live with it, left to find Lydia'.

She wrote again, 'I'm going with you'.

I looked at her and said 'no' as I moved past her.

She stopped in front of me again and pointed at her words with a look of determination in her eyes.

'Why?' I asked, as she wrote again, 'I can't live with it either'.

I looked at her again and silently walked past her again, she ran after me as Dog followed us.

I couldn't stop her this time, maybe I wanted her there.

#negan #negans thirst squad #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #twd #the walking dead #mollychambler #saveme #negan x original female character #the walking dead negan #donnie twd #daryl dixon

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pennywaltzy · 5 years

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A Fiction Versus The Reality (2/2)

So I got a comment on this Labyrinth-inspired fic yesterday that I had attempted to write during the Halloween season for @strangelock221b and decided that, what the hell, it was only supposed to be two chapters, might as well finish it while I’m on this roll. And voila! Here you guys and gals go, part 2!

A Fiction Versus The Reality - The night of Mycroft's Halloween costume party, Sherlock plans an outfit where there's no way to know it's him to have a dance with Molly, perhaps a kiss as well. What he gets is so much more but he leaves too soon to find out Molly knows.

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2 | Help Me Survive? | Commission Me?

It was with surprise he found a small music box on his pillow a few nights after the party. He was wary at first, thinking this was a game of some sort that one of Moriarty’s lackeys he hadn’t picked up could be playing or some associate of Magnussen’s. He carefully opened it and within a few moments, the song became recognizable.

The song at the masquerade scene. She knows.

Of course, he didn’t know that Molly knew he had been the one in the Jareth costume at Mycroft’s party, and it still could be a trap, someone telling him that they knew he, indeed, had a heart and who held it. He closed the lid and stuffed the box into the pocket of his Belstaff before looking for the only person he could think of who set it there. He marched down to stairs to her portion of the flat and knocked. “Mrs. Hudson?”

“Coming!” she said, her voice quite breezy. He pulled the box out and held it up at what would be her line of vision so that it was the first thing she saw when she opened the door. As the door opened she took one look at the box and smiled. “You got her gift?”

“Whose gift, Mrs. Hudson?” he asked with his heart almost in his throat at the reveal it had been given to her by a woman.

“Why, Molly, of course! It plays such a lovely song from some movie in the past. I thought it was beautiful when she let me listen to it, though why she thought you would enjoy it is beyond me. You don’t like trinkets and baubles like that.”

A smile blossomed on his face and he handed her the music box, grasped her head between his now empty hands and kissed her forehead before turning on heel. “Keep that safe for me!” he called out behind him as he headed out the door to flag the first cabbie he saw.

The ride to Barts was torturous, and his arrival was marked by extreme disappointment with the news that she had taken time off early to go home and get ready for a date. His heart sank at the thought of her going out with some other man when she had taken the time to get the music box and give it to him. What did it mean if it wasn’t to say she wanted more of what had happened that night?

Maybe she simply wants you to have a token of a fond memory, the voice inside his head rang out. He subconsciously shook his head and made his way back out to the street, trying to figure out the quickest way to Molly’s home before hailing another cab.

Once he arrived he nearly flung his money at the driver and then dashed up the stairs to her door. It was all he could do to keep from banging on the door, instead ringing the doorbell and waiting. Molly opened it, standing there in a cream dress whose skirt was covered with white magnolias. Not quite as brilliant as Sarah’s ballgown but stunning still the same. “You're late.”

His brain struggled to function for a moment. “Late?”

“Did Martha forget? Bother. I should have written a note.” She stepped outside of her door once she clasped a small clutch off the table by her door. “We have reservations. I told her if you were going to snog me senseless I wanted a proper date and you should meet me here at six.”

“I’m...sorry,” he said. “She didn’t tell me so I went to Barts to be told you were going on a date.”

“Well, even if we don’t make the reservation,” she said, slipping her arm in his, “we’ll figure something out...won’t we?” There was a small sense of trepidation in her voice, and he paused and turned to face her, letting go of her arm and cupping her face gently before lowering her lips to hers. He had thought that giving himself the experience once was enough to walk away, but apparently, fate, and Molly, had other plans.

“We’ll find something to do,” he murmured as he pulled back slightly after one of the most delightful snogs he’d ever had. Her too, if the contented sigh was a signal, and then he reached for her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers before heading down the steps to what he hoped would be a bright future for them both.

#sherlock #sherlolly #mollock #fanfic #fanfiction #sherlock holmes #mrs. hudson #molly hooper #multipart: a fiction versus the reality #strangelock221b

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theoldestweasleygirl · 6 years

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Underage Champions

This is the first fan fic I started writing back in 2015, so far there are 4 chapters, w ho knows if I will go back to writing it, I hope so. Any constructive criticism is appreciated. First chapter shown, rest are under the cut.

What if the Goblet of Fire had really messed up? What if, not only were there two Hogwarts Champions, but they were both underage? Fred's name is called as the Hogwarts Champion. Mix in an angry girlfriend and a twin who was left out of the plan, and you're in for a hell of a ride.

Chapter 1: A Little Background First

Not officially part of the story, but just a little background information to get you started. (Some of this information may be repeated through the story but I felt needed to be introduced to start as well) Written through the eyes of the main character.

My name is Dallas Millicent. I am a fourth year Gryffindor at Hogwarts. Growing up I lived not too far from the Weasley's. Since I had no siblings of my own I spent nearly every waking moment at the Burrow, sometimes for weeks on end without going home. My parents and I have never had a good relationship, and as I got older, I stopped going home all together, and to be honest I don't think my parents have even noticed.

The dynamic between me and the Weasley's is sometimes hard to wrap one's head around, but I'm really one of the family and honestly considered to be the 8th Weasley child (Or 6th if you wanted to get technical, being as my birthday is a few months before Ron's) and I fit right in with my (hair dye induced) red hair. Strangers have honestly mistaken me as one of the family. But anyway, Ginny and I have always been extremely close (being the only girls in a house full of boys will do that to you!) but no friendship rivals the pranking trio of Fred, George and I. Which is why, when the pair left for school, it was so hard on me. I knew that I'd see them at Christmas, and they'd be back for the summer, but I couldn't help but feel as though I'd lost my two best friends. And knowing that they had a whole nother year after this one before I'd join them killed me.

I had always been close to both twins, hell I’d been practically raised a Weasley. Growing up, it was always the three of us, locked in their bedroom, scheming up new pranks and reeking havoc on the house, laughing hysterically when someone was unfortunate enough to be caught in the middle of our mischief. Molly had joked that, despite the 2 year age gap, I was the third triplet who had been separated at birth. And although Fred and I’s relationship took a romantic turn, I would still always be “one of the guys” in the sense that we’d been best friends for over 10 years, and nothing about our friendship changed except now Fred and I were more than friends. I really am the third triplet in a sense, I consider George just as much my brother as he is Fred’s. Which is part of the reason some people find it so weird that I'm dating Fred Weasley. I'll admit I'd always had a teeny crush on Fred, but I'd never admit it, not even to Ginny! When we were younger, George used to tease us both, insisting that I had a crush on Fred, and vice versa. Me, being "one of the guys" and not knowing how Fred would react, would simply roll my eyes at George and deny that the idea had ever crossed my mind. Fred too, had blatantly denied the idea and threatened to hide a dung bomb under his brothers pillow if he ever mentioned it again.

On the train to Hogwarts my first year I, unsurprisingly, found myself in a compartment with Fred and George. It was then and there that Fred, looking more red and nervous than I had ever seen him, asked me to be his girlfriend. I was shocked, but truthfully excited and I happily agreed. George just smirked at us and replied knowingly with, "Told you so." Ever since then, the two of us have been dating and the three of us have been reeking havoc across the school. Filch, needless to say, was less than excited (to put it nicely) at the addition of a third member of the pranking troublemakers.

Chapter 2: Finding Out

Fred's name is called as the Hogwarts Champion. Mix in an angry girlfriend and a twin who was left out of the plan, and you're in for a hell of a ride.

Dallas POV

It was Halloween, and this year the Halloween Feast was also the time when the Triwizard Champions would be chosen from the Goblet of Fire. I hadn’t been paying much attention up to this point, I was more focused on my boyfriend and my food (my food is very important to me). Fred’s arm was wrapped around me and I was nuzzled beside him as I ate my dinner, laughing in amusement at George’s look of disgust as Fred leaned down to plant a soft kiss on my lips. “Oh stop” I laughed rolling my eyes at him from across the table as George began to mime gagging. I knew he didn’t mean it, he’d been the one practically telling us to date since I was 7 and they were 9. He stuck his tongue out at me and Fred smirked, tossing a bread roll at his brother.

“And now, the Hogwarts champion,” Dumbledore’s voice roared through the hall, and I turned to look just as the flames of the Goblet once again turned their glorious shades of red and shot a charred scrap of paper from the flames. Dumbledore smoothed the paper in his hands and read the name “ is Fred Weasley!”

I pulled back, looking at him as a million different emotions flittered through my body, anger, confusion, sadness, hurt... Time froze and what must have been seconds ticking by felt like hours. I looked at him with complete shock on my face and without even thinking, grabbed the plate nearest to me, and smashed it with surprising force against the table as a wave of anger took over. And with that, I stood up, turned on my heel, and walked out of the Great Hall, my thunderous footsteps echoing against the star studded ceiling, and the eyes of every person in the hall boring holes into my back.

As I stormed up the stairs I heard the footsteps behind me, and I knew before he even grabbed my arm who it was. He spun me around to face him and I shot daggers from my eyes as I turned. “Let. Go.” I growled trying to keep my voice from cracking, and I pulled my arm free continuing my thunderous exit.

Just as I was about to reach the common room, I heard footsteps behind me for the second time that night, and spun around to see the same face as before staring back at me, only this time it was a completely different person.

“He didn’t tell me either..” He choked out, and I saw him visibly cringe as his voice cracked despite his efforts to be angry. I knew that of all people, George knew exactly how I felt in that moment. He too felt the waves of emotions crashing over him as he tried to process what had just happened. Fred had always told me I was his #1, but I knew that in reality I was 2nd only to George, and I was okay with that. But this was also part of the problem, we were arguably the two most important people in his life, and he’d left us in the dark about such a big, what do I call it? Accomplishment? Mistake? Decision? Whatever it was, it was something he should have shared with us.

George must have seen how defeated I looked, or maybe how downright miserable, and he opened his arms and without even hesitating I found myself wrapped in them, sobbing into his robes as he did his best to hold back his own tears.

Most people would think it was strange, the way I wound myself into George’s arms just as I would Fred’s, but it was just our group’s dynamic. Others could never differentiate and on more than one occasion had seen the way I was with George and had started a rumor about how I was secretly playing both twins, much to all of our amusement. We’ve even played along with it before, pulling off one of Hogwarts’ “greatest scandals.

George and I made our way into the common room, sitting beside each other on the plush couch, and sat in silence as we both tried to process what was going on. We sat there, waiting for everyone to return from dinner, but nobody came, and hours after dinner the common room was still empty with the exception of us two. They must have had a celebratory party in the Room of Requirement. It was moments later that Fred finally appeared through the portrait hole, and you could tell that he knew what was coming for him.

Chapter 3: Confrontation

Fred faces the wrath of his twin brother and his girlfriend who are madder than he’s ever seen either of them before.

Fred POV

I stepped through the portrait hole and sure enough, there they were, sitting silently beside each other on the common room couch. It reminded me for a moment of the looks on my parent’s faces after they had discovered one of our tricks and were waiting to confront our trio about it. Somehow though, I knew this would be much worse than that, and if you’d ever seen Mom mad, you’d know that was saying something.

I took a deep breath and before they could even open their mouths I just crossed my arms and stood in front of them, knowing there was no use in trying to avoid them.

“Have at it, I know you two’ve got something to say” I sighed waiting for them to start firing questions at me. And sure enough, as soon as the words were out of my mouth, Dallas blew up.

“How could you fucking do this?! Sign yourself up for a tournament you very well could die in? Without even telling either of us?!” She shouted, springing to her feet, each word pelting me like a bullet.

I looked past her to my brother, still sitting on the couch, in a state of complete confusion. The hurt and confusion so plain on his face hurt me more than the venom behind Dallas’ words.

“I.. just...how? Why? Without me?” he finally managed to choke out, cutting me deeper with every word.

I sighed, defeated, and finally addressed them both. “I fucked up, okay? Plain and simple. I fucked up. I was just testing out a theory, and it was a long shot, more so than the aging potion, but somehow, it worked, and by that point, I was so confused myself that I didn’t know how to tell either of you..”

I knew from the moment I decided to do it that I should’ve told them. But George and I had already tried, and failed, to trick the age line with an aging potion, and I didn’t want to get his hopes up when, I thought, that my idea was even more of a long shot than that had been. And how could I tell Dallas, who disapproved of our schemes to enter the contest from the very beginning, and had been so relieved when our best bet had failed us? I didn’t want to worry her any more than was necessary and I didn’t want to get George’s hopes up only to crush them again.. and by the time it was done, I was so astounded that I couldn’t find a way to tell them then either, and then before I even had a chance to tell them, my name shot out of the goblet.

I saw what was coming next before the words even left her lips...

“That’s not an excuse Fred!” she shouted steam practically shooting from her ears. “Don’t you even have a brain in that big head of yours?! How could you even think to enter a competition that very well will kill you?! Forget the fact that you excluded the two arguably most important people in your life from the decision.. Don’t you understand? This isn’t a game Fred! You can’t just joke your way out of it!”

I did not, however, see what happened next coming. As I opened my mouth to reply, I was interrupted.

“Take a deep breath. We’ve all got a lot to say, there are lots of emotions here, but for the love of Merlin just quit shouting!” George yelled. He had hardly said one sentence this whole time, and George, the least confrontational of the three of us, had just actually yelled, at me and Dallas of all people. We both stared back at him, wide eyed, and he simply motion for us to both sit down. Dallas sat down beside him on the couch, and I pulled up an armchair so I could properly face them both. Once we were seated, my brother motioned for me to continue.

“Yes love, I realize it’s no excuse. I knew from the moment before I even did it that I should’ve told you two, and as I said, I simply fucked up. I realize that this isn’t a game, and I realize the danger i’ve just put myself directly in the middle of. But I never meant to hurt you, either of you.” I added glancing toward my brother. “You know you’re the two most important people in my life.. and that’s why I’m going to need both of your help if I’m going to have any shot at surviving this thing.”

Chapter 4: The other half

What does George think of this whole business? We’ve peeked through Dallas’ and Fred’s eyes, but what about the more quiet of the trio?

George POV

I hadn’t meant to shout at them… and you could tell they weren’t expecting it. They shouldn’t, I’m always the peacekeeper between the three of us, I almost never yell, and certainly never to my two best friends, but sometimes, the peacemaker has to yell. I couldn’t take another minute of the two of them screaming at each other like a couple of banshees, it wasn’t getting us anywhere. I knew Dallas was hurt and angry, and so was I, but Fred would never get a word in edgewise if I’d let her keep shouting at him like that. Did it hurt that he hadn’t told me, his twin brother, his best friend, the one he told everything, and I mean everything, to that he’d found a way to get his name in the Goblet of Fire? Of course it did! I’d never felt more betrayed in my life. I wanted to scream at him too, right beside Dallas, but I knew that that would do nothing but tear the three of us apart, and I’d never let that happen.

My brother may have just made the most bonehead move he’s ever made, which is saying something, but it was my job as twin brother and third member of the trio to keep the untamable wildfire that was Dallas under control. Don’t get me wrong, I love her as if she were my own sister (she practically is in more ways than one) but she’s been known to find the weak spot in any opponent she takes on, and using it to her advantage. And in that moment, her target was good ole Freddie and she had one hell of an advantage over him, we all knew what, or rather who, his weak spot was, and I feared she’d use that advantage as she would with any other opponent. That would be a disaster of brand new proportions, the end of the trio, Fred moping around, paying no attention to the tasks he was about to face. Fred needed us now more than ever, and I needed to make sure nothing got in the way of that.

I was still sore about the fact that he had left me out of this decision, but I could tell by the look on his face that he felt absolutely awful for the way everything happened, and I could see the pure terror in his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Dallas was right, this wasn’t a game, there was real danger here. “I’m in.” I stated matter-of-factly looking my brother dead in the eye “We’ll find a way to get you through this, won’t we?” I added looking over beside me.

“Of course we will” She sighed suddenly deflated. “You’re not getting out of this that easy Fred Weasley” she added, a smirk spreading across her face, the teasing tone returning to her voice.

“Now kiss and make up you losers” I laughed, glad a complete disaster had been averted.

“Oh now you want us to kiss?” Fred laughed, referencing my gagging earlier in the Great Hall.

“You’re right, I take it back. Too much PDA from you two.” I laughed shaking my head. Fred gave me a look and I knew just what he had in mind, I nodded in agreeance.

“TWIN ATTACK!” We shouted lunging to wrap Dallas in a group hug, laughing as she squealed in protest as Fred started to tickle her while I held her arms back. In that moment, we were all back to normal, and nothing was wrong.

#Fred and George #George and Fred #Gred and Forge #Harry potter #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #weasley fan fiction #fred x oc #fred and george weasley #writing #the weasleys #Weasley #Weasley Twins #the weasley twins #harry potter and the goblet of fire #fred x original character

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sherlock-one-shots · 7 years

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Keeping it a Secret (Lestrade X Reader)

Summary: Requested by Anonymous; the reader is a Holmes and is in a secret relationship with Lestrade. A/N: I hope that this is what you wanted! And I am so sorry that it’s so long. I love, love, love Lestrade, but I’ve never really written anything for him just yet. This is such an awesome request, though, I love it. Sorry it’s late, I’ve been on vacation and when we got back, I began moving into my apartment.

FROM: Greg You free tonight? _ You glanced to your brother, Sherlock, who didn’t seem to be interested in the reason why you and Greg both had your phones out. You quickly typed in a response. - TO: Greg I might be - You glanced at Sherlock again. He was kneeling down next to the body, eyes scanning and looking for clues. You hadn’t originally wanted to come along with him, but you knew Greg would be there and that made it all a little better. You looked over at Greg just as he hit ‘Send’ and put his phone down. He grinned at you. - FROM: Greg Do you think Sherlock would notice if you went out? - You shook your head. - TO: Greg If he did it really wouldn’t be any of his business. Why are you texting on the job, young man. Get to work! - You put your phone in your back pocket and heard a laugh coming from the other side of the crime scene where Greg had put himself. You walked over to Sherlock, kneeling down beside him. “Anything?” You wondered. “A few ideas.” He mumbled, turning the corpse’s hand over a few times, looking for something. Your phone dinged again and Sherlock’s eyes drifted towards you. “Who are you texting?” He wondered. “Why?” You asked. “Is there something wrong with texting?” “No, I text all the time.” His attention went back to the hand, his eyes scanning over the wrist. “You just don’t usually text this much.” He said simply. As if on cue, your phone dinged again. “So, whoever you’re texting must be someone special, then. You’ve been going out more, making more of an effort in your appearance, you’ve been happier, I’ve been reliably informed that being happier is almost inevitable in the earlier stages of a romantic relationship. You have a boyfriend.” He dropped the hand in the middle of his deductions, resting his arms on his knees and looking at you. “What does it matter to you?” You asked trying to keep your face neutral. You didn’t want to give anything away, not yet, at least. “You’re my little sister. It matters a great deal to me.” You grinned and stood to your full height, looking down at him. “There’s nothing to worry about.” You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, checking both texts from Greg. - FROM: Greg How about dinner, then? At my place? - FROM:Greg And your brother seems to be doing all of the work for me. The other guys just think I’m taking notes. - You smiled and shook your head once again. - TO: Greg What time? - Sherlock stood up, finished with his part. “Lestrade?” He called. Greg quickly put his phone in his pocket and rushed to Sherlock’s side, ready to hear what happened. You joined the trio, ready to listen. Sherlock explained what happened step by step, turned and gesturing around the crime scene dramatically, as usual. He was always the dramatic one. You tried to get him to do school plays, thinking that, since he was such a drama queen, he wouldn’t be too bad. Mycroft was a star, you were certain Sherlock would be too, but alas, he never wanted to. He participated in Hamlet, only because you begged him every hour of every day, but that was it. Greg looked over, saw another officer taking notes of everything Sherlock was saying, and leaned to you. “Would seven o’clock be alright?” He whispered. You were worried that Sherlock would catch it, but he was still turned around, pointing to the roof of the house. “Sounds perfect.” You grinned looking up at him. He smiled back at you, both of you in your own little world when Sherlock spun back around. “Are you two listening?” He asked. You broke eye contact with each other, turning your attention to Sherlock. His eyebrows were furrowed, eyes glancing back and forth between you two. “Of course we are.” Greg defended. “What was the last thing I said?” You looked at each other. Neither of you had heard it. You shrugged, taking a shot in the dark. “She was pushed from the roof.” He said nothing. Just stared at you were a long second. “Not even close.” “In their defense,” John butted in. “you don’t listen to them half of the time.” “Yes, but this is interesting.” Sherlock argued. John only sighed. XXXXXXXX Greg followed you back to the flat, going over the last details of the case before going back to work. You planted yourself on the couch, hoping Greg would sit beside you. Instead, he went to John’s chair as John typed the case up on his laptop and Sherlock made himself a cup of tea. Your phone dinged with a message again. - FROM: Greg Should we tell them now? Or later? - TO: Greg I think Sherlock’s ego is still a little shattered from us not listening to him today, lol. Let's give it a little while then tell him. - You continued texting back and forth until Sherlock, who had finished his tea and was now sitting in his chair, got tired of hearing the constant dinging coming from your phones and made his deduction. “Are you two texting each other?” He asked, annoyed. “What makes you think that?” Greg asked, locking his phone and putting it on the table beside him. “Because every time (Y/N) hits ‘send’ she glances at you and your phone rings. And vice versa.” Greg shrugged. “Must just be a coincidence.” He stood, having all of the information he needed to make the arrest and bring the case to a close. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” As he was walking out he looked towards you, grinning. Being brave, he winked and walked out. Luckily, Sherlock didn’t catch it. “Is he your boyfriend?” You pretended not to hear him. XXXXXXXX “How do I look?” You asked John. Sherlock was back in his room and you took the opportunity to sneak out. He wouldn’t have stopped you but he would have asked questions; questions you didn’t want to answer just yet. John hadn’t gone home just yet and, being one of the few who know about your relationship with Greg (you had asked for advice several times), you decided to ask him if you looked okay, not wanting to miss an imperfection. “You look great.” He smiled. “Date tonight?” He asked quietly. You only nodded. “Good luck, then.” You grabbed your purse and coat, ready to walk out when footsteps entered the living room and stopped. “Where are you going?” Sherlock wondered. “I thought you didn’t have plans tonight.” “I made some with Molly. Last minute.” You planned to text her and have her save your life in the cab, if he were to ask her about it. He looked at you up and down. “Molly’s working late tonight. You’re going on a date.” You sighed. You couldn’t keep using Molly as an excuse. “Yes, I am.” You said. You guessed the truth would out itself eventually. “Well, where is he. I might like to meet him.” Sherlock said, trying to be friendly. “I’m meeting him.” “Where?” “His place.” He stayed silent as a smirk crawled onto his face. He looked at you as if he had caught you in a lie; as if he had discovered our darkest secret and was planning to use it against you. “Have fun.” He sat down, pulling out his phone. You made it halfway down the stairs before he called after you. “And be sure to tell Lestrade that I said ‘hello’.” You stopped in your tracks, wide eyed. You turned around, marching back up stairs. “What?” You asked, entering the living room. “Tell Lestrade I said ‘hello’.” “What makes you think I’m going to see Lestrade before you do?” It was weird calling him Lestrade, but you had to keep up an act. “I know you’re going to see him tonight. He mentioned he had plans tonight-a date at his place. He was going to be cooking, of course. Then you two were texting back and forth at the crime scene and here-I just assumed that you two were involved in a romantic relationship.” You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond. You didn’t want to admit that he was right, but you also really didn’t want to lie to your brother’s face. Not just because he could tell if you were lying or not, but because you would feel horrible if you did. You had never lied to Sherlock. Not knowingly, anyway. He took a deep breath. “You could do worse. George is a good man.” “Greg.” You corrected. He stared at you. “So it’s not Lestrade?” You heard John chuckle quietly. You two found it hilarious that he still wasn’t able to remember Greg’s first name. “No, Sherl, Lestrade’s name is Greg. Not George.” “Oh.” He nodded. “Who is George, then?” “No idea.” You spun around, finished with the conversation. “Don’t wait up!” XXXXXXXXXX You knocked on the door as the cab drove off. You heard the clattering of dishes and maybe a swear word or two from behind the door before it opened, revealing Greg, oven mitts covering his hands. “Come on in.” He moved out of the way with a smile as you walked in, taking off your coat. He quickly pulled off the mitts, helping you remove your coat and putting it on the coat rack by the door. You hung your purse there as well, not wanting to forget it. Again. “Sorry I’m little late.” You said, turning to face Greg. You wrapped your arms around his torso and his went around your shoulders as he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “It smells wonderful, though.” You complimented. “I hope you’ll like it. I haven’t cooked anything like it in years, so I don’t know if it’ll taste as wonderful as it smells.” He responded. You only hugged his torso a little tighter. “I’m sure it will be fantastic. Is it ready?” “Just pulled it out of the oven.” You grinned, excited, and let go of him, walking to the dining room where plates were already set out. He pulled out a chair for you, pushing you in as well before disappearing into the kitchen, finishing dinner. XXXXXXXXXX Greg was no chef, you both could agree on this (though you never said it out loud-he did), but dinner wasn’t so bad. A little burnt, but you really weren’t expecting perfection. You were both just happy to spend the evening together without having to worry if Sherlock saw you or suspected anything. He did come up in conversation, however. “He will start to get suspicious eventually. I told him I had a date tonight and I shouldn’t have.” Greg shook his head. Dinner was finished and you both sat on the couch. You were leaning against Greg while his arm rested on the back on the couch, both of you ignoring the pile of dishes in the sink “He was already suspicious, and Sherlock Holmes doesn't like to stay in the dark for long.” You added. “What do you mean?” “He knows.” You sat up and turned around, facing Greg. “I tried to leave while he wasn’t in there. He caught me last second and asked where I was going. I tried make Molly my excuse again, but she’s working late and I didn’t know...you see where this is going.” Greg only nodded. “But, at least we don’t have to worry about telling him. He knows. He told me I could do worse.” Greg chuckled as you laid against him again. “I’m glad we don’t have to worry about that anymore.” “Me too.” You agreed. “Now we just have to tell Mycroft.” Greg swallowed. “Do we?” “At some point.” You sighed. “Oy vey.” XXXXXXXXXXX Sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted. I might do a part two for this one, if anyone is interested. Requests are open so don’t be afraid to send some in!

#sherlock reader insert #reader insert #lestrade x reader #greg lestrade #inspector lestrade #di lestrade #greg lestrade x reader #greg x reader #sherlock

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tigertanyx · 5 years

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It’s Ace Awareness Week, and that means we’re here to talk about the rampant use of ace stereotypes without ever saying “Asexual!”

What is asexuality?

Asexual is a word that applies to a lot of different experiences, but it basically means a lack of sexual attraction. Some aces desire or like sex but don’t associate sex with romance. Some aces are also sex repulsed and are disgusted by anything sexual. Some simply don’t care. Some aces are aromantic, meaning that they don’t feel romantic attraction. There are other romantic attractions like heteroromantic, homoromantic, or biromantic like me. There’s also demisexual and demiromantic, meaning they can feel sexual or romantic attraction only if they have a deep connection with their person or other specific circumstance.

It’s an umbrella term that differs from person to person, so as long as the person is respectful and genuinely connect with the ace umbrella they should feel free to use it. For more information I love The Asexual Journal

How do I talk about asexuality?

There is an unfortunate amount of aphobia in today’s society. Some allosexuals (Sexually attracted people) don’t really understand how someone could function without having or desiring sex. Common offensive comments are “You’ll find the right person,””You can’t connect with people,” “Have you tried?”

If you ask an ace a question about their experience, do it from a place without assumption. Try to be general, instead of “well I read that aces do X, do you?” ask “How do you feel about X?”

Make sure the person is comfortable talking to you about this. This is a private experience and it puts people in a bad spot if people are overly eager about their privacy.

Headcanon Or Canon?

The vast majority of asexual characters are not explicitly stated to be ace. Sheldon Cooper was intentionally written as ambiguous and was treated as a joke to sexually frustrate Amy, who is presumably demisexual. Doctor Who is asexual, and was intentionally played by Matt Smith as ace, but occasionally enjoys kissing. Sherlock is, for all intents, ace, and whether he’s homoromantic for Watson, hetroromantic for Molly, biromantic for both, or is AroAce with intense friendships remain up for personal interpretation. I personally think he definitely had feelings for Watson and lighter feelings for Molly.

Mischief Managed has a great post for these three.

Good Omens’ Aziraphale and Crowley are married, for better and for Armageddon. But a lot of people ship them as sexually active gays. They’re an angel and a demon, guys. There’s no reason to think that they would fall into the human trap of allosexuality. They don’t fall into the human trap of gender either; “angels are sexless unless they specifically make an effort” is in the book. So they are canonically agender. But they are never stated to be ace, allowing multiple interpretations.

Not stating someone’s sexuality doesn’t always mean that it’s not representation; Once And Future doesn’t state Ari’s sexuality but makes it clear that she’s into women and nonbinary people. But Once And Future is queer fiction; there’s one straight person and everyone else can be presumed to be gay or bi.

Most fiction does not have the premise of Everyone Is Queer. They have to state it and show it for it to be canon, it doesn’t matter what JK Rowling says 20 years later. If Dumbledore gay, Dumbledore must say that he loved Grindelwald, say that he’s gay, say something that indicates it in text.

Most people do not know or understand what asexuality is, because the media never says the word. They can say Sheldon doesn’t like sex, they don’t say he’s ace. You have to actively look for ace rep, and no one’s going to do that if they don’t know it exists.

I’m hopefully going to talk some ace book recs soon, but here’s the wonderful Dahlia Adler’s post to tide you over.

What are your favourite ace characters? Canon or headcanon? Do you have questions about asexuality?

Asexual Bookish Ramble It's Ace Awareness Week, and that means we're here to talk about the rampant use of ace stereotypes without ever saying "Asexual!"

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isitandwonder · 7 years

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The Female Gaze

I think, in the end, it was about the women, not the gay. I think the groundbreaking new thing BBC Sherlock wanted to do was to strengthen and re-evaluate the role of women in Sherlock Holmes adaptions. But that went horribly wrong.

Mofftiss always said they wanted to right something with their adaption that everybody else did get wrong. Well, what could that have been, as Holmes has even been portrayed as a mice? We all hoped for Johnlock… as this has been a reading of the canon especially appreciated by female/queer fans, because it takes into account a somewhat different interpretation from the cis white het male reading. Sherlock Holmes is somewhat ideal as a character to captify female readers - as he retorts to thinking and talking and not to violence in the first place to solve a problem, which are classic female strategies. Holmes mostly employs his brain and not his fists - which sets him apart from most male action / crime solving heros in a way women can relate to (but remember Gatiss’s poem, advocating a more physical Holmes? Making him into a cis white male het hero…?)

But as S4 clearly showed us that Johnlock wasn’t the goal - what else could have been the new, groundbreaking thing everybody had gotten wrong before?

Especially around TAB, but also before, Mofftiss talked excessively about the role of women in Sherlock Holmes adaptions; that the Zeitgeist when the stories had been written didn’t allow for many strong female characters. TAB was sold as a story about strong women and their empowerment - which sparked anger, because the women were portrayed as murderous furies. I’ll return to this later. The point here is that there were even panels at Sherlocked in 2016 harping on “Women in Sherlock”, emphasising their importance.

So, I think what Mofftiss felt necessary for a modern adaptation was to strengthen the role of female characters. Only, the brave thing then would have been to make Holmes and Watson both female. Which Mofftiss didn’t.

This got very long and is therefore continued under the cut.

As Mofftiss said themselves, instead they played heavily with the longstanding homoeritoc interpretation of the stories (feminising Sherlock and Watson?) - which appealed to gay and female and gay female fans. And, surpirse, surprise, they dig this; not the allegedly new / stronger female characters. But it was just a joke to the writer - whereas they were serious witht heir female characters like Moll yor Mary or Eurus. I think this misunderstanding of what the fans and the writers wanted respectively led to the train wreck of S4 (think about the Mary feature for the cinema screenings, for example, much hated around here!)

There is a great post going around about the male gaze in Sherlock. I’m sure every female person has been subjected to this sort of male gaze. Subjected, not enjoyed it. And that was one mistake. Mofftiss might not have seen what their characters were actually doing, how they were looking at each other - because they are male writers. To them, such a gaze is the normal look on the world. But not for female persons. For them, such a look is sexually charged. Mostly derogatory, or at least predatory. If a man looks at a women like Sherlock looks at John or vice versa, it’s a look of lusting after. Women / female persons see and know that, because we have to identify and interpret this look over and over in out lives to stay save. Men haven’t. For them, such looks might even be nothing special. But it is. This is one example where men and women read their reality differently. Therefore, female fans interpreted these glances in a sexual way, what Mofftiss couldn’t understand. They thought we were hypersexualising their show, because they are not accustomed to interpret such looks as the female fans are.

Therefore, they had no idea why so many (het) female fans read so much Johnlock into their show, as they just wanted to play with it a bit as a homage to Billy Wilder. This bafflement formed an unholy alliance with Mark Gatiss’s hate for fag hags, an ugly word for (het) females fantasising about gay men. He hates and mocks those women since League of Gentlemen days. He never tried to understand why women might have this kink in the first place. Gatiss seems to see those proclivities as perverted as many women see lesbian scenes in het porn. But there’s a difference.

Het porn is mostly made by and for men. The f/f scenes in it are almost always foreplay. Two women get it on, but a soon as a man enters, they go down on him. It feeds the idea that lesbian sex is just something women resort to when no man is around - otherwise they would, of course, go for the ‘real thing’ - an opinion that fuells the idea that lesbians just haven’t met the right man yet etc. In short, this opinion states that lesbian sex is not real sex. This is, of course, a derogatory view.

And totally not the same as (het) women enjoying gay porn! First, gay male porn is taken seriously as a sex act between two men. I’ve never seen it as interpretated as foreplay for f/m action. Never have I seen two guys making out, then a female enters and they are suddenly all over her. Male gay sex actions stays just this: only guys getting it on. And women watching can do this like “Well, two (3, 4, 5 …) dicks are better than one”, but they can also feel save while doing so: No woman will be subjected to anything in male gay porn. There’s no female character to compare oneself to and be found lacking in looks etc. There’s no violence against women in these movies, no abuse, no reducing them to their sexual organs, no exploitation of female sexuality. Women can just sit back and enjoy male gay porn without feeling involved. And some women like it, because, as with the male gaze, male sexual attention towards females can be predatory, violent, looking for a conquest etc. And some (het) women just don’t like that. So they escape to gay porn, where they might even identify with the taking side.

This is not necessarily deranged fetishising of gay m/m sex. Women have a sex drive as well, get over it, Mr Gatiss. Everyone sins differently, so, please, no kinkshaming. It can be a confident expression of female sexual desires. Only, female sexuality somewhat seems to scare men.

Paired with this misreading of women enjoying gay porn as a fag hag fetish was the idea that the female fans who shipped johnlock are mostly teenage girls/virgins - and this seems apparently not the target group those writers want to be admired by. But honestly - can a 14-year old virgin write something like The Cold Song? A Cure For Boredom? PiaLR? That’s not to say that young girls shouldn’t write fanfic - on the contrary, they should, to explore their sexual identity and proclivities in a save space. But I’m quite sure that most of this fandom’s best writers are the other side of 20, 30 and even 40 or 50. Because it needs experience to write really engaging sex scenes. Experiences I hope 14 year old girls simply don’t have yet. So, here’s another misunderstanding / misconception the writers have about this fandom (and they are not very eager to correct it, despite Moffat’s somewhat encouraging words towards fanfic writers. In the end, they can’ tget over themselves, it seems).

But somehow mature, sexually confident, intelligent women seem to frighten Mofftiss, despite their idea of giving women more room in a Sherlock adaptation. Why? Because mature, confident, feminist women KNOW that two men simply can’t strengthen and enhance female characters like they deserve it. Mofftiss knew that they couldn’t live up to feminist expectations, so they dismissed it outright, while even gaslighting female fans by ‘Look, we gave you great female characters, stop complaining!’ (And don’t get involved with this perverse thing called johnlock either).

Look at how Mofftiss have done this:

Molly is a het woman, constantly humiliated by Sherlock, yet still pining for him. She was the first new character invented by Mofftiss for their show. But not as a strong character, only as a female character. Even when she finally emancipates herself, she chooses a boyfriend ridiculously looking like Sherlock. That at least earns her a condescending kiss from the object of her desire. Bah! And when under stress, because Sherlock is shooting up and her engagement is over, she is only allowed to turn to the male form of stress relieve - violence. She slaps Sherlock! Why does she not talk to him, offer help, involve their friends? Because that would be the female approach, but that is unfathomable to the male writers.

Same with Irene (in canon a confident artist who wants to get married, not in the slightest interested in Holmes). In the BBC version, she becomes a lesbian (see above re: the value of lesbian sexuality) = has not yet met the right man (Sherlock). This is awful, becoming straight for Sherlock! I don’t mind the naked scene in her house so much, though. It’s not overtly sexualised, but can be read as self-confident and sexually assured. But I hate the wardrobe scene. Lara Pulver looks great in that green negligee and suspenders - but why was this scene necessary if not to charge the show hetero sexuall?. In the DVD comments, Mofftiss joke around that loads of people (men) suddenly hung around the set while this scene was filmed - to gaze at Lara Pulver in underwear. That is not funny, that is sexism! That is not a joke. She was displayed as a sexual object - not for herself or character growth, but for the pleasure of others. She was reduced to a sexual object for the male gaze, despite her character being a self-professed lesbian. Arghhh!

Mrs Hudson, on the other hand, is the devoted mother hen - another cliche. Only, in S4, she gets warped - again, like a man would want it, by having her drive an Aston Martin (cars=dicks). But it’s not even hers - she got it from her husband. She didn’t run a cartel, she was just typing… Giving her a fast car is not empowerment! Empowerment would have been to tell her tenants to brew their own tea!

Or look at Sally Donovan - the only WoC on the show apart from Hooper, who’s Asian (why are there no muslim women, disabled women etc on the show btw? Why is the female empowerment almost exclusively done via white women?): She calls Sherlock a freak, has an affair with a married man, who is an idiot, is sexually insulted by Sherlock for that in front of her collegues, and, in the end, is presented as a traitor, engaging in Sherlock’s downfall. Whereas Anderson is kind of redeemed later in MHR and TEH - nothing like this is waiting for Sally.

Or look at all of John’s girlfriends! Presented as jealous of Sherlock, helpless (Sarah), frustrated (Jeanette), some described as ugly (the one with the nose, the one with the spots). All of them are left by John for Sherlock the minute Sherlock asks him - now, imagine being one of those women. Would you like that? John treats those women like shit, not with respect.

I’m not going into the Mary story here, enough has been said about her. But just imagine for a moment being married to a closeted gay/bi man, secretly pining for his best friend… John treated Mary not much differently as Sherlock treated Janine.

Speaking of Janine! She’s befriended by Mary to get to Magnussen, courted by Sherlock for the same purpose, abused by her employer… only to get dropped by her fiance and dragged by the yellow press. The last thing is presented as her revenge - but at what cost? Picturing her as some kind of tabloid whore, as Sherlock says. What kind of treatment for a female character is this? Why again reduce her to a sex object?

Even Lady Smallwood is not allowed to be a strong independent woman - she is shown chatting up Mycroft!

Or Vivian Norbury! The old, lonely cat lady, still clinging to her dead husband.

And Eurus? Both Holmes brothers can channel their intelligence and use it for something good - but not the sister. No, as any female person, she just wants male attention and goes mad because she’s just too smart for her own good… seriously?!

I could go on and on… but I think you get the message. Mofftiss wrote female characters into the show and thought that would be enough to modernise the gender issue in the Holmes’s stories. But Mofftiss are not able to write strong, empowering female characters because they are men. They live in a men’s world (remember Hooper, who had to become a man to be successful?). That means, for example, that they reduce women to their sexuality, and advocate they resolve problems with violence, like the women in TAB. Think about it… why did they not just leave their husbands and settle somewhere in the country, together, supporting themselves with needlework? Well, that doesn’t sound very exciting, does it, but it was the female way back in Victorian times. You could leave your husband and seperate. Or you could poison him - but not shoot or stab him.

There’s a sad truth to poison being a woman’s weapon - because usually, a man is stronger in hands on combat. Therefore, a man who beats his wife to death is usually just sentenced for manslaughter - it happened at the spur of the moment, no killing intended. But a woman who wants to get rid of her abuser has to do this when he sleeps, for example, or via poison or drugs, to be able to overpower him. This is mostly seen as cunning by the courts, which is a feature proving murder. A woman freeing herself from an abuser is seen as guilty of premeditation (= another feature of murder), whereas a man who beats his wife over many years unitl she dies from his abuse is exculpated exactly by this prolonged abuse, because he couldn’t expect the wife to die from his violence - as she lived through it for many years.

Sorry, but this is where the male gaze leads us - to a world made up and after male standards. But applying those standards to women is not empowering - it is still subjecting them to the male prerogative.

And many feminist fans see this (now) and ask why this happened. They criticise the male writers for this. Who kind of pout now, feeling perhaps misunderstood, as they wanted to give us strong female characters in a modern version on Sherlock Holmes and believed they succeeded with Eurus, Molly and Mary, even giving her the last word. And they don’t understand why we we don’t like it. Instead, all we wanted seems to have been gay porn! (Honestly, if we want to see dudes fuck, we know exactly where we can get that, Mofftiss).

They can’t come around to our view of what is and has been going on. They can’t see us the way we are, because they have a totally different perspective and no inclination to change that. They think our criticism is juvenile, that we are ungrateful - as if the very idea of a largely (queer) female fanbase being grateful towards male showrunners isn’t fucked up to the extreme!

As I said at the beginning - if they wanted a Sherlock Holmes adaption that empowers women - make Holmes and Watson female. If you don’t want to go there - leave them as they are, together. No women are needed - especially not like Mofftiss wrote them. Explore Holmes and Watson’s friendship, and see where it takes you… Johnlock didn’t come out of nowhere. Holmes isn’t the typical 19th century male - he’s moody, thin, pale, likes music… all then and now characteristics associated with feminity. Perhaps that’s why he has such a broad, devoted female fanbase? Perhaps it would be empowering to allow us our reading and make it canon?

The first step, if you want to give women an empowering modern Sherlock Holmes adaption, is: Take the female fans seriously!

#sherlock #what went wrong #mofftiss #writing #female characters

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onlyonewoman · 7 years

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Shipping skills, lonely sailors & the love for a fandom

I came to the Black Sails fandom pit quite late. I started watching the show with my common-law spouse when we’d finished binge watching season 1-3 of Game Of Thrones summer 2013 and asked ourselves what to do with our lives now. Well, since we had HBO and wasn’t gonna cancel it for ten months before we’d explored the supply a bit more, why not look up those series we might have a common interest for. Namely political humour and history. So, we decided for Last Week Tonight with John Oliver and our old favourite Bill Maher on the political humour side and then Vikings and Black Sails on the history side. Since both series had the entire first season available, we could binge watch, which is exactly the way we both prefer. We are nerds and nerds will be nerding (yes, we actually use that made-up verb). We don’t have kids and we don’t want any, we’re both past thirty and to dwell in our books, movies, TV shows, video games and creative stuff is the central part of our relationship. We’ve lived together for more than ten years and literally the best thing on Earth for us, is when we both have a bunch of shows we’re following, sometimes together and sometimes each of us for ourselves, because that makes us happy. I mean, my c-l spouse is literally looking forward for the next release in the GoT book series, even if I’m the only one of us reading it… That’s about how important nerding is to us. Anyhow, Black Sails… At first I found it very hard to get into the show. The first five episodes or so, we were sometimes rightdown annoyed with the series. It’s only eight episodes in the first season, which made it even more irritating. Our impression after watching the first season was ”meh, at least it’s an historical show”. At the time, I didn’t know what a fandom was… Or fanfics at all. I had definately NOT heard the word ”shipping”. When the second season came, we both got more hooked and I was absolutely stunned by the James/Thomas kissing scene, just sitting there gaping like a fool and my c-l spouse was like ”here we go again with the guys kissing guys stuff… I’ll just sit here and wait for my nerd to calm down”. I was still not into fandom at all, but later on, when season three came I finally got really, really hooked. I alredy knew very well that Vane would die sooner or later, maybe not in that season but c’mon, it’s pirate history and no matter how mixed up it is with fictional characters from TI and entirely new written for the show, anyone with a little knowledge about pirate history, knows that this wont end well for all the main characters. I was still very emotionally taken from the third season and when it was over I was in a period in life where I was out of a job for the first time in many years. I had a very difficult time to relax (I was quite ill from stress, but didn’t understand that until later) and since I felt empty, you know the way you can feel when your feelings have been built up a long time during a show and then suddenly it’s just over and you just sit there thinking ”what the fuck happened”. At least I can feel like that, so I started to re-watch season three. And then I realised there were loose ends I didn’t remember, so I re-watched the second season and then season three again. Which lead me to the conclusion that I probably had to re-watch season one as well – and of course continue with two and three. In total, I watched five seasons in this order: 3-2-1-2-3, catching up on all the little details I never see when I watch a show for the first time. Then, I started to search for reviews and interviews about the show and one day the almighty Google lead me to musemm and shinmaya-aka-fred on tumblr where I stumbled upon Blint. And I was like: what have I missed? No, this can’t be right… Flint and Billy, how could anyone even…? I have to re-watch this shit again. And while re-watching I sorta slipped into AO3 as well (thank you musemm, you lead me there without knowing it!) and I wrote my first fic The Savior (heavily inspired by ”Home is where he is” by @shinmaya-aka-fred ). At first it felt extremely strange to write a fan fic. I’d never done it before and I suffer from social anxiety with a very high shame level, so to actually allow myself (yes, anxiety issues are weird) to write a fan fic, or even try to, and in English which is not my native tongue, gave me lots of anxiety at first. I’d spent a lot of time on AO3 just reading fics then, but when I finally decided to make my on account and actually publish the first part of The Savior in May 2016, I had such a high rate of anxiety I was jumping from fear when I saw I was getting a comment on it: I like this, please post more!! I just love the part where Flint saves Billy, I always thought it's such an amazing beginning of their story <3 Thank you so much for this, I hope you'll post the other chapters real soon! That was @musemm (you are just the best!) and I was like ”wow, maybe this is not that kind of Internet forum where people are mean”. Then I read this: Please, please post the rest oh this! There's not enough Billy/Flint -stories (there could never be enough!) And you're an inspiration to me, because I've been thinking about writing some fan-fiction, but also don't speak english as my native language. This was lovely!

That was @fabulatio (and you are just the most fabulous!) and I realised that this really is all for fun. It’s not about being skilled in English and people wont care if it’s not perfect. And then I was like ”shit… people might actually want to reas this crap… I shuld finish it”. Then this came: Of course we are interested in more.:) I'm so happy to see more Billy/Flint writers.:) Keep it up! This is where I stumbled on @rufferto9 (you darling!) and I guess that’s where I realised how fun it was to actually write this for someone else, but still not feel any pressure. I write a lot in my native language, both private and public, and sometimes I feel a lot of pressure. With the fan fics and the anonymity, I don’t have to feel the burden of ”thinking fresh” or think about how the things I write can affect my name or work. I can do it all for fun and share it with other anonymous people who also do this for fun. I love it. It’s also a living proof that an anonymous Internet forum don’t have to lead to people being mean or trolling. I’ve only had ONE negative comment on my 49 works and that was from someone outside the forum (I closed my works from comments outside the forum after that, but I didn’t delete it. It’s still there on chapter 13 of ”A Very Angry Boy”):

Interesting story, but way too much time with Billy's whore. I have no interest in reading about Billy with his whore(s), it makes stories less enjoyable to read, so it's curious you frequent that story aspect. Anything gained is negated by experience of reading whore passages, I don't want to read that and question why you include that device, what do you think it adds? I answered it like this: Well, the whore part is not about the sex as an erotic experience for the reader, as I guess you figured, but about Billy learning to get comfortable with intimacy. I mean, he's been raped, he's insecure about his body and don't really know how to handle his own desires. He's scared, and who else is gonna give him the possibility to show that kind of weakness? A crew member? Hardly. The captain? No way! Or a sailor from another crew? Why should Billy show that weakness to anyone that doesn't do it for coin?

So, I guess it makes sense to me to add Billy's way from hating his own body, not knowing how to take pleasure in intimacy, to be able to enjoy sex. It's only been a painful experience to him before he met that whore, I mean, he's literally been sexually tortured, and the molly helps him to reclaim his body. That's what I think it adds: character developement and healing progress. I hope it makes sense to you :) I closed my work from anonymous comments after that, because I realised people who’re writing fics themselves, don’t seem to be critical in the same way. And since I’ve been writing for years in public, I’m no stranger to negative response and I have no problem to deal with it, but for me, this is all about fun. Writing fan fiction is a free time doing, something we don’t make money from, something we do beacuse it, to quote Captain Flint: ”Because it feels good.” This is why I write and read fan fics. It feels good. It makes me feel good to explore and create without the pressure of adding my real name to the stories. It makes me feel good to write without any sense of competition. To know that there’s always room for more people to join in, more stories to be written, more pairings, more ideas and that there’s no need to have perfect language skills or coming up with new ideas. That being inspired of someones work and make a similar story isn’t stealing but inspiration and a way of celebrating another person’s story. To know that I can share my love for Black Sails with other people I don’t know, and not having to open up about anything else than our mutual love for this show. And no one I know IRL, knows my alias on AO3 or Tumblr. People in this awesome fandom are using anonymity not to act like assholes (seriously, what’s wrong with people who can’t be anonymous without using it to be mean to people?!) or to compete and that is the healthiest way of socializing I’ve come across in ages. Nerds sharing their nerdy love for nerdy stuff and simply allowing each other to have a place where it’s all about having a good time and live out funny, weird or scary ideas without the pressure of thinking about ”what people might think” or ”wheather I’m good/creative/skilled enough”. I love you, BS fandom. You’ve changed my life. And I still have no idea how or where anyone can see anything even slightly close to romantic or sexual interest between Silver and Flint – and I’ve really tried! I find it quite funny how quickly my viewers counts and kudos rose on my stories with that couple, compared to stories without them – come on, don’t you silverflint people ever long to read about another pairing EVEN if you’re shipping this one?! – and now I’m in the depths of my longest story ever ”An English Rose In December” and I’m still a bit shocked about how I ended up writing so much about a Silverflint relationship. It’s actually the second longest Silverflint story on AO3 now and it’s not even done yet. I don’t understand how that happened… I love to play with these characters. Love to give them different personas than in the series and not make Silver cocky, confident and manipulative. Love to make the battle for power between him and Flint to an old-fashioned historical, arranged marriage story, where the love must be built up slowly if it comes at all. Where manipulative smiles, sexual urges and schemes are only a small part of the relationship and the battle for power is about something much more difficult: to accept a life with someone you’ve not chosen, who’s not chosen you and how to deal with your feelings, with your partners feelings, with both your pasts and with a society where marriage has nothing to do with love and everything to do with power. I love to write my story and most of all, I love this fandom and all the joy it gives me on daily bases. The praises I’ve gotten from my public writing in my real name – the writing most people sadly believe is the only writing that really matters – hasn’t given me half the joy all the ”oh my god, this is so sweet <3<3<3” comments on my fics on AO3. Maybe because no one has to give me praise because they know me or know how hard I’ve worked on a piece. When I see a comment on one of my stories on AO3, I feel genuinly happy and grateful – and proud for knowing I’ve given someone a good time with my story. Because I love to read others stories. It gives me great pleasure and want the person who’ve written it to know that. Don’t ever be afraid to comment on a story you love! Don’t worry about your spelling, your grammar or ”how it may appear”. I’ve been there, I’ve been afraid to write in another language than my own, afraid to not be good enough, to not make my stories genuine enough and to leave ”too silly” comments. I say: screw that! The kudos and comments are a fan fic writers paycheck. More than once has an ”omg I love this” comment or a ”you’ve got kudos” mail made me crack the first, genuin and wide smile on a crappy day, and I’m quite certain I’m not alone in that regard. What I really wanted to say with this suddenly fucking LONG text wall is: *Black Sails fandom – you’re the proof that Internet can be a place where anonymity can be used to spread kindness, support, fun and love, and I’m so grateful I found you. *Never stop nerding! When season 4 is over and we’re experiencing the ”my series has ended” trauma, let’s keep nerding no matter if our favourite ship reached shore safely in the end or not. *Try to widen your pairings… I know, I have my favourit ships as well, but why restraining ourselves? The show will make some of us disappointed, no matter if we’re Silverflint, Blint, Gunnboner, Madisilver, Bonnyrackham or Bonnymax shippers. Not all ships will reach safe shores (if we’re really unlucky, we’ll end up with NO surviving ships and lots of fucking wrecks) and I know for myself I will feel a lot of difficult emotions when the season is over (probably also during the season, because holy shit, those teaser clips are NOT calming!) because it’s been so intense. I hope that more people will write stories about pairings we know CAN’T happen (like Billy/Vane, Thomas/Flint, Miranda/Abigail or why not Low/Idelle – only our imagination sets the limits here!) and pairings we know is highly unlikely to happen (like Silver/Flint, Billy/Flint, Silver/Billy or a repetition of Max/Eleanor) and pairings that already have happened or still have a chance to happen, have a short time of sweetness or even survive to the end (like Silver/Madi, Max/Anne, Billy/Ben, Idelle/Featherstone, Eleanor/Rogers). Or why not do like our freaking fabulous Fabulatio and do a Flint/Billy/Thomas? (Because if you haven’t read ”The life lost from us” already, you really should!) Point is: when the show is over, it will be painful for us, no matter if we’ve been shipping one or many couples, or no couple at all, because it will be an emotional and violent ending with LOTS of deaths. I’m alredy trying to prepare myself to Rackhams very likely walk to the gallows, to an eventual destruction of the Maroon camp with Madi’s people being taken by the English and sold to slavery. I try to prepare myself to the possible beginning of Billy Bones’ increased drinking and development to a bitter, lonely and cruel alcoholic, no Gunnboning OR Flintboning (or even, horrible thought: a Billy Bones fucking a woman, because that would actually make me pissed.) If they’re not gonna make him attracted to men at all after all these teasers with brothel visits where you can’t tell the whore’s sex, rainbow colored belts and a necklace pendant reminding suspiciously much about the male gender symbol pointing straight down instead of up to the right, no dialogue with women – or about women if you don’t count Billy’s questions about ”Mrs. Barlow” – and the way he swallows and lets his eyes linger on Ben Gunn (or by all means, the way he’s looking at Flint like he can’t decide wheather he wants to kill or fuck him) in a way he’s not done with anyone else in the series (sorry, Asheboners, but the few seconds he looked at Abigail doesn’t necessarily make him straight or even bi). Maybe I’ll be an unlucky Gunnboner in the end, seeing Billy make a brothel visit to a woman while Ben will only remain an ally he’s not even hugging. Maybe Flint will never have another kiss from a man, not from Silver or Billy or anyone, and make me cry because that would just be fucking cruel. Maybe all we end up with is Silvermadi, Ellewoodes (my new name for Eleanor/Woodes) and Bonnymax where Anne is devestated for losing Rackham at the gallows. Maybe non of us get what we really want, or even with our second or third wish if our main ship doesn’t reach shore. What we do know is that no matter how Treasure Island ends, Black Sails wont end in perfect connection with that story. The series creators have said recently that season four wont fit completely into Treasure Island so who knows? Jonathan Steinburg said this in an intwerview: ”What we ended up deciding was to treat Treasure Island as a story that was written based on historical events that take place on the show. That book is clearly written in a different tone than the show; to not be able to acknowledge that puts you in a lot of awkward positions in terms of trying to literally marry the two narratives. By the time you get to the end of the season, it’s clear that [the two narratives] are married in a bunch of ways — but we didn’t feel the need to treat it as though it was the next page for the end of Season 4.” So, who knows? All I know is how much joy the series and the fandom are giving me on daily basis. Both as a reader and as a writer. And as writer, I ask all of you who’re registrated on AO3, either as both writers and readers or as readers only: Don’t forget to comment! Even if it’s just a ”Nice story!”, it’s dearly appriciated by most authors, I’m quite certain of that. Use the AO3 and the anonymity as an opportunity to be more ”shameless” in commenting. In the world outside fandom, where we need to act adult, where it’s not cool at all (especially not for people who’re past 30 – and heaven forbid if they’re childfree WOMEN past 30!) to be attached to a show, a character or a pairing that’s ”not real”, giving praise can be quite restricted where it’s important to not be ”too much” or sound ”unprofessional”. I love you, Black Sails fandom. Stay awesome, shameless and ridiculous! The world needs this shit. And @thewalruscaptain and @yasae... Just all the kisses in the world to you <3

#black sails #fandom #shipping #ao3 #fan fic writing #awesomeness #blint #silverflint #silverbones #gunnbones #who the fuck knows how this will end

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nathalieofearth · 7 years

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Chapter 4: Toxicity of Passion

Days and weeks continue to pass, and moments between us become shared secrets; conversations are full of double meanings, calls are taken out in the yard, sharing secret embraces and seeing him again, anywhere, gave me a guilty pleasure. Where one man was willfully ignoring me, another man embraced me in his arms. In my house, I felt trapped, in an unhappy relationship and alone. In Sir Lancelot’s house, he would indulge me; talk with me, cook for me, and watch things together. To me, he could have been any man, but knowing that he knew how I felt most of the time and could intuitively act made any situation with him worthwhile.

One of the only things that kept my sanity throughout this entire affair was my journal. My thoughts could be written down, extensively or as I wanted, in order to keep my heart from forgetting how things developed. If there is one thing I’ve learned is that love is war, and one must be clear as to how events happen and how one thing leads to another. While hanging out with one man, I would be texting the other. I knew I would have to write everything down in order to keep my mind from losing itself to my heart.

The problem with Sir Lancelot as time progressed was that I felt that we were growing apart somehow. I knew I was open to him, with all of me, but with him, he was enjoying the surrounding group of little girls that were feeding him a lot of attention. As someone who perpetually craves that, he began to lose interest in me, and with time, we began to spend less and less time together. I would hold on to the simplest of things, like a tight hug or passing embrace to keep my hopes up in my despair. It started to poison me on the inside, like a drug I needed, craving more and more and getting only the smallest of satisfactions. The group of friends that Sir Lancelot and I had been a part of, bonded gently with care and time, began to spread apart, through new associations and new interests. In particular, some of the guys began to think more with their dicks than their loyalty to their friends and that became a problem that would escalate to the ultimate demise of the group. One by one, each girl that was newly introduced to us would choose a specific guy from the group like a target and eventually manipulated their way into getting what they wanted from the guys. Throughout this time, it became incredibly difficult to figure out who had slept with whom and who was dating whom. By the end of this, the toxicity had spread to everyone in the group and it tore us apart. In the time everyone noticed what was happening, it was too late to go back to the way things were. In retrospect and in many ways, this also signaled and became the beginning of the end for Sir Lancelot and me.

It seemed like the new girls saw me as a threat. And they had every right to think that. They continually spoke about me behind my back, spread rumors like we were in high school, and ultimately brought about a huge unwanted tension between the group and me. I mean beside the fact I was much older than them, they were barely out of high school and most of time talked about immature things I wanted nothing to do with. It’s not difficult to see why they vilified me; I had previously been associated with a good portion of them, dating some of them at one point or just simply because I had known them for a long time. My friendship with them, though carefully crafted and cared for, became more of a matter of courtesy when I started dating Odin exclusively, but since it really severed my friendship with Link (since he had shared how deeply he had and still cared about me), tensions between me and guys heightened and unfortunately diminished greatly, leaving me only with just enough to extend small courtesies to me for Odin. This also became a problem because they were quite literally some of the only people I saw because of my situation. So, I was left almost all alone, leaving me to solely depend on whoever wanted to spend time with me, and at this point, it was mostly Odin. Regardless of whatever was happening to everyone else at that time, he was always trying to alleviate my loneliness however he could. Therein lay another problem, which was that by alienating me, they also alienated Odin, and he became deeply depressed for months, losing all his close friends as well. His method of dealing with his problems was starker, delving deep into alcoholism and isolating me as well. He would spend a lot of time at home, playing his video games but sometimes, he would take his frustrations out on me, not physically of course, but mentally, and psychologically, and there came a point where I literally thought I was losing my mind. I grew more and more alone than ever, trying to fight my own demons and depression, and growing more desperate for affection and longing to be held by the comfort of a simple loving embrace.

So it seems that everything was happening at once and I was watching things get out of control and go from a bad situation to even worse one. Around this time, I found that Odin had been fighting his brother for control on whether or not I would or should even be allowed to live in their home since I could not contribute and haven’t been for months. The tensions in the household grew even more intense to the point of physical violence at one point and I was completely powerless to stop it. It was like having an out of body experience and not knowing how to gain control over it again. Eventually, I would find any excuse to get out of my reality, and when the distance between Sir Lancelot and myself grew too great, which was often, I would ease that pain with a quick lay from Quetzalcoatl, who would come around every now and then. I also lost myself heavily to drugs; I would smoke weed often and drink and had a couple of occasions where I tried heavier drugs like shrooms, Molly and edibles.

As a way to make up for the times that we were not able to hang out with our original group or everyone else, it was mutually decided that we could meet up again for another convention, Supercon, which is held in July in Miami. This was an interesting time, since I had just recently decided for a change and dyed my hair half blonde, what they call an ombre hairstyle and debuted it to everyone this day. Odin had went ahead and met up with everyone while I was doing this process and I finally joined at around 10pm. In the hotel room, certain things developed which I was not comfortable with, especially because they games everyone was playing was very risqué, and me personally, knowing Odin is literally a few feet away from me, also knowing I was completely sober and us being the only couple, well, led to an incredibly uncomfortable few hours. The whole situation further proved that our group was going to a place that I would not be able to go deeper in.

However, seeing Sir Lancelot for the first time, even in a group of people, in a long while brought hope back to my heart. The madness of the surrounding chaos around me gave me a glimpse of the man who started giving me faith that everything would turn around and get better.

A few days after my birthday, it was Sunday July 14th; I finally got to see Sir Lancelot after what seemed like an eternity had passed. We met up at a Starbucks and then drove to a secluded area. Throughout the entire conversation, my anxiety had eased but I was nervous considering that my feelings for him had grown stronger since they were never settled in the first place; they had festered deep down enough now to evoke a resilient response from my heart when I saw him again. I had kept tabs on him through other mutual friends, especially one girl that was kind enough to befriend me, but her sights were on Sir Lancelot and I knew. I tried to help her in her efforts to win him over and it seemed like things were a bit rocky at the moment with him. I saw this as my own moment to swoop in and maybe take him for myself. After all, he was on my mind all this time, but I was just trying to be patient with him and let him do what he wanted. My hope was that he would realize that I was always there, just waiting for him, just waiting for the opportunity to be with him… it seemed that just being with him would satisfy anything, solve all my problems and rid me of my loneliness…or so I thought.

I began feeling the adrenaline rush through me and it invigorated me; I sat in the passenger chair, literally waiting like a prey, and instantly, things get steamy and he kisses me passionately and fiercely, violently shaking me from the inside, as if being brought back to life. I had been waiting for this moment for a lifetime, yet in the grand scheme of time and space, it’s a millisecond that won’t be remembered in history by anyone except me. With the months that had passed and all the moments I had thought about this in my mind, I couldn’t believe that I was sitting here in this brief moment in time that I wished could be frozen forever. I became very conscious of every little detail so that I would never forget. He unhooks my bra and we jump to the back seat to get more comfortable. Mind you, he’s not of ordinary height, so fitting back there became more of a hazard than anything, but the passion continued. He pushes my back up against him and my body gently eases into his. Our movements become synchronized and he looks at me tenderly and lovingly, as if he can trust me not to break him. He kisses me long and meaningful, on my arms, my chest, my face, anywhere that can be touched, only he did it with the upmost care.

He takes off my underwear with his teeth, and I grab his shirt and cover my chest with it, my self-consciousness kicking in. He notices the gesture and asks me if I am okay, and all of sudden; I’m pulled into my own mind. That’s the whole part of intimacy I hate. Being a victim of rape is something that will always be a part of me and when it comes to being extremely vulnerable like this moment, I get afraid that I will not be able to be able to perform well. I become so self-aware that it triggers me and leaves me bewildered and dazed, almost as if I can’t move or speak. He looks at me as if he has done something wrong and I come back to the moment and realize that all of this has just happened in my mind. I respond that it takes time for me to get comfortable with someone, but he just shakes his head and states that he had somehow managed to go down on me, however, my chest is more personal? He didn’t understand my logic but he does stop. We’re naked, me laying on top of his chest, holding me close and sharing this incredibly intimate moment that seemed to be more than the sex that lay ahead. However, I gently start kissing him again, going from his upper body; the arms, chest, to his face, his ears, and his neck while simultaneously scratching his back with my nails. I go back up to his ear and whisper his trigger word and hear a soft groan escape his lips. He has fought back his will to give in, but in that moment of weakness, he takes control and takes a hold of me. All of this is supposed to be meaningless but I can only feel our bond intensifying, feeling so wrong yet so right. His touch becomes an adventure of exploration around my body and it electrifies me. His passion is unleashed and the teasing goes on back and forth until he finally repositions himself on top and goes deep in me. The initial moment of insertion feels gentle, soft and yet full of intent. I grab onto his back as I feel my breath escape me. He pushes deep in me only to regain my breath as he begins the motions of pulling out. It was an effortless, seamless motion with every second of it, feeling the intensity of every move he makes within me. It doesn’t take very long for him to come, but once he does, I feel the Earth shatter within me. He stops and collects his breath and gathers his clothes. He opens the car door and starts dressing himself. The moment is gone, but I’m still laying in the back seat, naked and lost in the thoughts of knowing that this finally happened to me and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more.

As I finally regain the mobility of my legs, and start regaining my senses of the moment just passed, I start collecting my thoughts, and more importantly, my clothes. I start dressing in the car and walk out just as he’s finishing putting on his jeans. It feels like the first time I’m breathing fresh air through my lungs and it brings me a strange calmness. We start talking about what had just transpired and we both had some difficulty putting words together. In my mind, I could describe it a million ways but telling him, words escaped me. Our bodies intertwined with motions as we touched one another, our bodies responding to each other’s touches with a fierce intensity, as if we had deprived it for so long of living. I probe him a little, just wondering why he ultimately decided to go along with it, but he said nothing. I waited there for a response, but nothing came out. Naturally, I tried guessing it in my mind and ran through a list of reasons why. Maybe it was something he wanted or maybe it was his curiosity. Maybe it was how he complimented me earlier on being a real woman and loving my lipstick and that turned him on. Regardless, whatever the case, he chose to stay silent and I chose to smile, content and unabashedly happy that I was in his arms for a little while and it made the world okay to live in at that moment.

When dropping him off, I noticed that there seemed to be something on his mind. He asked me how someone stops caring and I simply respond that we do what makes one happy, and try not to overthink things and right as I am turning to him, he kisses me passionately, surprising me and leaving me once again, breathless. I briefly melt in his arms again, and already start thinking of how much I’ll miss him and want to be back there again, parked and happily in the arms of a man who makes everything fade away and seem so insignificant compared to the comfort of his embrace. I ask him once again why he did it and simply chose to smile that devilish grin and walks away. I gasp at the audacity of this man with no regard to answering me and try holding him back but it didn’t do me any good. I leave incandescently happy, satisfied, rejuvenated with a newfound serenity and a smile in my heart that I can’t seem to shake off.

A little while later, after getting home, I repeat the question to him a third time through a text. He responds, “I tried doing something I wanted to do for a change…I wanted to sweep you off your feet,” and it’s as if my heart couldn’t grow any bigger at the moment. I knew in this moment it was too late and my heart would never go back to the way it was. I focused my entire being into making sure I could find a way into his heart the same way he had come into mine.

This was the moment I decided he would always be known as Sir Lancelot to me. No matter what came afterward, I promised myself that I would do everything I could to show him how much he meant to me. How he gave me solace in a time of darkness, where the world didn’t treat me as kindly as he did. Granted, my view at the time was biased and jaded, seeing the world through a lens of selected reality, and in time, I came to realize that I was falling in love faster than I could stop myself from thinking it through, knowing one, that Sir Lancelot did not feel the same way I did and also knowing, I had Odin at home, waiting for me. That night, I remember walking in and ironically, Odin telling me how much he loved me and how much he’ll take care of me and protect me. The guilt on my feelings would torment me for months coming to pass; yet my path to self-destruction was forged.

Lord Tennyson was right when he said “a man had given all other bliss and all his worldly worth for this, to waste his whole heart in one kiss upon her perfect lips.” Yet it wasn’t Sir Lancelot that had given in to his passions. It was Guinevere. She gave up everything; her title, her position, her wealth, for Sir Lancelot. Everything seemed so irrelevant to her that it seemed choosing was longer a choice. It seemed that I was getting to this point where nothing else mattered except that happiness I wished for deeply and wanted more than anything in my heart. In my mind, there was no choice. I had chosen Sir Lancelot to be my savior (of sorts) and I had willingly given in to the path of self-destruction, because in love, there is no wrong. Even though I was sure that Sir Lancelot wasn’t completely in love with me or even at all, there is only the matter of my heart and how I chose to go about it. And I have given mine willingly and completely to Sir Lancelot. And I would do anything to get him to feel the same for me, hoping one day he would come back to me.

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