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hello-everyfandom · 2 years
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woman character: you don't get it... I am a monster.
guy character: why do you say that? what... what have you done?
me, desperately: please say you killed or tortured someone. say you did morally questionable things. say you drank all the milk but put the carton back in the fridge so your roomate would buy more. anything. just, please, don't say it's because you can't-
woman character, tearfully: I... I can't have children!
me:
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hello-everyfandom · 2 years
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does anyone have any good fluff/angst fics? asking for myself, no shame.
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hello-everyfandom · 2 years
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George: Fred you have to apologize to y/n
Fred: Fine
Fred: ‘unfuck you’ or whatever
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hello-everyfandom · 2 years
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Ok but imagine
it’s Sunday morning and you’re sitting on the counter top with your man standing in between your legs. He’s letting you shave his face and while you are staring intensely at his face cause you’re concentrated on not cutting him, his hands hold your waist or hips and he stares at you with so much love and a hint of amusement.
and that ladies and gents is my love language
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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Timezone reblog!
“Wouldn’t miss out on our anniversary, would I?”
Warnings: Death, Sadness, Angst.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Words: 1.5k
Summary: Visiting the ghost that holds your heart.
(I’m aching as I type this.)
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The corridors felt longer. It was harder to remember exactly how they were, but if you squinted long enough, you could remember the moments of laughter shared and the sound of students rushing to their next course of the day. But, those memories quickly evaporated into scenes of despair from the war. It had been a few years, five to be exact, since the war. Even with the time passing, you can remember the stench of metallic blood and the dust and debris that choked the air. 
It was the Winter session, all the students had since gone home, and the halls were empty besides the small straggle of children who had decided to stay. Children, kids, something you once were. Even with a small number of wrinkles on your brow and taller stature, you tried to put yourself into your sixteen-year-old self. It was admittedly hard as all your experiences, as a child, centered around him. Him. Fred. Your first love. Maybe your only love. 
The wind was bitter. And despite the cold quickly reaching your fingertips, your heels clicked slowly on the floor. One after another, you told yourself, until you reached the Northern Tower fields. You knew he’d be there. He always was. The familiar scent of frosted grass almost hurt to smell. It all hurt. As you reached the courtyard, the figure of a tall man stood. Even from the back, you knew it was him. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his red hair sticking widely everywhere and his back was slightly hunched. Until he turned. It was as if you were eleven years old again, seeing those bright brown eyes and the peak of his dimples. It rendered you speechless.
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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“Wouldn’t miss out on our anniversary, would I?”
Warnings: Death, Sadness, Angst.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Words: 1.5k
Summary: Visiting the ghost that holds your heart.
(I’m aching as I type this.)
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The corridors felt longer. It was harder to remember exactly how they were, but if you squinted long enough, you could remember the moments of laughter shared and the sound of students rushing to their next course of the day. But, those memories quickly evaporated into scenes of despair from the war. It had been a few years, five to be exact, since the war. Even with the time passing, you can remember the stench of metallic blood and the dust and debris that choked the air. 
It was the Winter session, all the students had since gone home, and the halls were empty besides the small straggle of children who had decided to stay. Children, kids, something you once were. Even with a small number of wrinkles on your brow and taller stature, you tried to put yourself into your sixteen-year-old self. It was admittedly hard as all your experiences, as a child, centered around him. Him. Fred. Your first love. Maybe your only love. 
The wind was bitter. And despite the cold quickly reaching your fingertips, your heels clicked slowly on the floor. One after another, you told yourself, until you reached the Northern Tower fields. You knew he’d be there. He always was. The familiar scent of frosted grass almost hurt to smell. It all hurt. As you reached the courtyard, the figure of a tall man stood. Even from the back, you knew it was him. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his red hair sticking widely everywhere and his back was slightly hunched. Until he turned. It was as if you were eleven years old again, seeing those bright brown eyes and the peak of his dimples. It rendered you speechless.
“You came.” He said a smile on his lips.
“Of course,” you sputtered out, taking in every inch of his face, his movements, his everything. “Wouldn’t miss out on our anniversary, would I?”
Fred let out a laugh. Oh, how you truly missed his laugh. 
“You’re right, you always were one for punctual anniversaries.” He joked. For a moment, he did the same, drinking in you, getting so hopelessly lost that he cursed the day he died.
“Aren’t you cold?” you found yourself dumbly asking. Of course, he didn’t get cold, what a foolish thing to ask.
Fred didn’t mind, he shrugged and replied “Hard to get cold when you’re dead.”
You didn’t say anything back. Instead, you sat on the cobble bench. It suddenly became hard to breathe.
“Don’t make that face,” Fred warned.
“What face?” you asked, surprised.
“The face of grief. I’ve seen it every day I’ve been ‘ere.”
“Oh.”
“I see it all over Ginny’s face, and some over George’s, but he tries to hide it now.”
“Why can’t I make that face?” you laughed helplessly, “I am grieving.”
“I know.” he said simply, “But, it isn’t a face I’ve ever wanted to see on you.”
“I know,” you said back. 
“How is George?” Fred asked, still standing, hands in his pockets. He didn’t want to ask that question, but he could tell when his twin lied.
“He’s good.”
“No, he’s not,” Fred rolled his eyes.
“No. He’s not.” you agreed, “I think... it’s been quite hard on him.”
“He always was the sensitive one,” Fred put a finger to his chin, you nearly laughed seeing that. It was always something he did when he was pretending to be pensive. It never worked.
“It’s been hard on all of us.”
“It’s been a few years.”
“Yes, but still,” you sighed. Hard wasn’t even a word to describe the feeling of losing Fred. It was beyond hard, it was excruciating. 
“I think...” Fred continued to carry a facade of deep thinking, “You should have a party.”
“A party?” your lips began to curl into a smile. 
“Well, you can’t all be sad all the time. What a bunch of sorry sods you must be.”
“Sorry sods?” you chuckled under your breath, “Maybe.”
“I’m just saying, if you had a party, you could mingle, and drink too much and be happy.” Fred said as a matter of factly.
“It’s difficult to be happy when you’re not there.”
Fred grew silent. Everyone always spoke about how difficult it is to move on after his death. But no one ever really asked him how he dealt with it. How he was. How he felt. It was always Fred’s job to make other’s smile, but as he walked the empty corridors he couldn’t have felt more alone. 
“You know,” you began, making Fred raise his eyebrow, “Ron’s started helping out ‘round the Joke Shop.”
“Really?” Fred leaned in.
You hummed, “I think he’s going to leave the Order.”
Fred laughed, full and hearty, “He’ll destroy the shop.”
“No, he won’t!” you argued back, laughing a bit with him. “He’s doing quite well, actually.”
“Tell me more.”
The conversation, once melancholy, was filled with jokes from Fred, poking fun at his younger brother and you defending him. You spoke about your family, Fred asked if your mother still makes the sweet pumpkin pie, the one she used to send every October. Fred told you about some of the first years, and how he truly enjoys giving them a fright by poking out of the portraits when they least expect it. It was as if he were there, and you had to remind yourself... that he wasn’t. 
“Are you seeing anyone?” Fred asked, almost absentmindedly. 
You paused. “Something like that.”
“Oh? Tell me more.” Fred bit back the sadness that knawed at his chest. He wanted you to move on, get married, have children, do all the things that he envisioned you’d do together. 
“He’s... well.”
“Well?” 
You looked up at Fred. It was this moment, this reflection of glee in his eyes and the redness of his cheeks that brought tears to your eyes. It wasn’t like the heart aching sobs that your parents heard through the walls of your home. It wasn’t like the tears you shared with Molly, reminiscing on every story of Fred you had. It was quiet. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, and you were worried they’d never stop as you were sure, for a fact, that you couldn’t contain them even if you tried. 
“He isn’t you.”
Words had never hurt Fred more. The pounding of the syllables and the quivering of your lip created a deep and sudden ache. Even as a ghost, a dead person, a being not of this world, he could feel the grief course through his veins, pumping through his heart, hitting his chest, hurting his toes. It’s true. It wasn’t him. And, for fucks sake, he wanted it to be. He didn’t want to die. He had just grown to accept it when he awoke as a ghost. He wanted to be there, holding you, gripping your hair in his fingers, feeling the warmth of your body. He wanted to get married and see you walk down the aisle in that dress you always fawned over. He wanted to see the silver band around his finger and feel him put your wedding ring on yours. He wanted to have children and argue about the names. He wanted to hold your child, making jokes about how they would one day ruin the world. He wanted to spend every Christmas morning, watching your numerous children ripping open the presents that “Father Christmas” had given them, as you sat in his lap enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. He wanted to warn his daughter, or daughters, about the bad men and how they should stay away from boys until they were thirty-five. He wanted to tell his boys always to make a girl smile because that’s how they will get a girl’s heart and boast about that’s how he got “your mother’s heart and soul.” He wanted to send his children off to Hogwarts, holding you as you cried watching the train leave the platform. He wanted to make fun of your growing wrinkles and he wanted you to fight back about his dad body. He wanted to live with you, grow old with you, die with you. Seeing you cry helpless tears was a bitter reminder that he was stuck. Stuck in a body that will never experience those things. Stuck in a body that is forced to do nothing but remain.
“Is he at least good-looking?” Fred choked back. 
You laughed through your tears and the loneliness that Fred had experienced was nearly worth it.
“Not as handsome as you, or as cocky,” you added.
Fred nodded slowly. He sat next to you, close, but not close enough. 
“I...” you wiped your cheeks with the sleeve of your coat. “I-” you meant to say that you missed him, but the words didn’t seem to follow your tongue.
“I know. Me too.” Fred smiled, his dimples portraying the sadness that he tried to hide. 
You sat there, next to him, painfully, sadly, both heartbroken for the life you could’ve had. Together.
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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🥺
this and the next // benedict bridgerton
Summary: Benedict hasn’t painted a thing in two weeks. He’s beginning to think he won’t paint again, but a Smythe-Smith musicale and the reminder of your love has him once again reaching for his brushes.
A/N: My entry into my love’s (@heloisedaphnebrightmore​) writing challenge! Congratulations on 3.5k, I am so very happy for you! My dialogue prompt is in bold. Thank you for letting me take part! I hope you all like it!
Warnings: married couple, marriage, fluff, Benedict is slightly dramatic, happy couple, happy endings, mentions of food and drink (alcohol), kissing, tickling.
WC: 2.8k
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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Hi I was just wondering if you were the writer who wrote a professor snape x reader where the reader comes out to him during lunch or something?? Ive been looking for that fic for ages now aha
Hello!
No unfortunately that was not me! But best of luck finding it! :)
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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guess whose heart broken again? this girl!!
"I love you more than the sky and the ground but I can’t do this anymore."
Warnings: Fighting, heavy language
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader
Words: 1.5k
Summary: A fight between lovers.
(Loves, my darlings, when I tell you writing this broke my heart, it truly did. It really hurt to write as I was putting my own words, my own experiences into this piece. It is alright to be heartbroken, it is alright to hurt.)
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When you and Sirius broke up, the entirety of Hogwarts knew within minutes, some in the Gryffindor house knew within seconds due to the loudness and ferocity of your fight. It seemed as you both had gotten older, the fighting became more constant. No longer were the two of you young and flowing with the cool autumn breeze of Hogwarts. War was upon you and was nearly palpable to the touch so it was bound to cause tension between every teenager and teacher at Hogwarts. The fight? You couldn’t even remember what spurred it and caused it to ignite. However, you could feel the red, anger searing through your veins as you yelled out at your boyfriend. Maybe the fight was about your constant studying, Sirius’ blatant flirting with other girls, or the fact that you hadn’t actually spent any quality time together within the past month. Any moment you two were alone was spent sleeping, on opposite sides of the bed with the duvet as a divider between you two. It was odd, though you didn’t spend as much time with Sirius anymore, your heart still beat steadily for him. Nevertheless, it was difficult not to fight with Sirius. He had the tendency to be quite dramatic and go overboard with fights with his hot-headed self. Usually, your fights ended with a sigh and a tight hug with whispers of apologies. However, this fight, you knew, would end horribly. 
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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angst reblog
"I promise to fix your ties in the morning and kiss you when you come home."
Warnings: Death, violence and blood.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Words: 2k
Summary: Newlyweds meet tragedy and disaster.
(Wow, okay so this made me so super emotional. Quick note: Italics refers to the past. Sorry in advance :( )
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 You could hear the destruction of your home. The falling stone walls and the dust that sputtered out from under it. For years, you have stared at the paintings and wandered Hogwarts to admire the absolute beauty it omitted. It was your home, the place you grew up, the place you learned how to become something only dreams could portray, the place you fell in love with Fred Weasley. But now, you could smell the metallic scent of blood and could hear the electricity that spits out after venomous spells were casted. You could feel drips of blood run down your chin from the nasty cut you had gotten after you had fallen. You could feel the blisters and the soreness of your muscles from holding up your wand. Your voice was hoarse and, if you could, you’d drop to the floor in exhaustion. But you stood defiantly, wand in front of you. A man in a mask faced you as you breathed heavily, your mind sharp.
“Reducto!” You yelled, blasting the wall behind him into pieces, trying to frighten him. He dodged it, snapping his wand at you.
“Crucio!” He spit back. It narrowly missed as you continued to duel bravely. “Stupefy!” You countered, hitting him square in the chest; knocking him backward into the crumbling wall. He laid on the floor as you caught your breath before turning and flicking your wand to avoid another spell that was thrown at you. 
Destruction. You could see the bodies of men, women, and children strewn on the floor. You bit back a sob as you continued to fight for Good, against evil, against the Death Eaters who saw nothing but blood. Fred. Fred. Fred. All you could focus on was staying alive so you could get back to Fred. Fred. The man you so desperately loved. The man you married last night before the war had approached on your doorstep. 
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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Hahahah yes it is!!
oh my god i am going crazy- i am looking for this one james potter x reader 3 part series, and i can’t find it !! it was on tumblr, and basically james and y/n have feeling for eachother. one night he gets super drunk and confesses to her, but she’s like no you don’t mean it go to bed. the next morning at breakfast he lies and says he doesn’t remember it (because he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way), when he actually does. he gets a talking to from sirius, and then bam they confess. the end.
somebody please help me-
hmm
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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hello:)) can i request a second part to "I love you more than the sky and the ground but I can’t do this anymore."?
maybe when they find each other after the war (we can pretend Sirius didn't go to Azkaban oop) or getting back together @ school and changing, you're an incredible writer so i'm positive anything you choose will turn out great<3
Hi Darling!
I actually already have a second part and a third part I believe to this fic!
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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HI i love ur icon!! may i ask what picrew did u use? 💖
Hi Anon! Thank you! Unfortunately, I’m not entirely sure as my friend made if for me :)
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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I’m definitely not demanding it or saying you have to, but readers quoting back their favorite lines/moments of a fic/chapter is the absolute best, and every single one of you who has ever done this deserves to find $20 on the ground. Not all heroes wear capes, y’know?  
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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Congratulations, my love! I would be honored to be your friend xx
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hello hello! thank you so much for 500 followers <333 I started not too long ago and I’ve already met so many wonderful and talented people! Even if you’re a silent follower, thank you for tagging along :)
I’m not sure how long this will stay open but I’ll keep u posted <3
⚡️– FMK – send me any three characters/people and I’ll decide their fate, y’know how it goes.
🥀 – AESTHETIC – tell me about yourself and I’ll make you a moodboard.
💌 – SHIP – tell me about yourself and i’ll ship you with an hp character. Include any preference (era, pronouns, gender) if you have any. If inspiration strikes I might include a non-hp ship. CLOSED UNTIL I CLEAR OUT MY INBOX! you guys did not come to play omfg
🍒 – SIMP NATION ­– I will share a fictional crush I have/had at some point and a little thirsty explanation.
💿 – SOUNDTRACK ­– I’ll shuffle my playlist and give you the first three songs that play (my music taste is a mess so I apologize in advance)
🦋 – MINI BLURB / HEADCANNON – send a character and an idea ( or just a character ) and I’ll give you something short and sweet.
☁️ – GET TO KNOW ME – ask me anything you want or tell me an assumption you have about me and I’ll confirm/deny. (I’ll pretty much answer anything 👀)
❣️- CYM - give me a topic and I’ll cast my moots :)
💀 – UNPOPULAR OPINION – tell me an unpopular opinion you have and I’ll tell you my stance (fandom related or not)
🔊 – SPREAD THE LUV – wanna shoutout someone/a blog you love? send in what you love about them and I’ll share :)
and since i’m extra and an emotional bitch here’s a little shoutout to some of my besties who have made my short time on here an absolute hoot 
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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timezone reblog!
Fighting With Sirius Black Would Consist of...
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Fighting with Sirius Black Would Consist Of…
Sirius Black is quite dramatic. Most people, even people who do not know him, know if this.
It was not rare to see Sirius Black bickering with his friends, making snarky and snippy comments.
He hated it, but he truly was a hot head.
Sirius Black, in most cases, brought up most of the fights between you two.
There are three different types of ‘fights’ with Sirius Black.
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hello-everyfandom · 3 years
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fighting with sirius hc please?
posted!
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