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btsydtrash · 3 years

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Euphoric Endeavours [5]

vampire bts, poly ot7 x uni reader yn

(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But! I want to try and grow a little community on Tumblr, too. So, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too. I hope that you like it!)

also, i don’t have a tag list, but if you follow/put notifications, you’ll get alerted. tysm loves!

find me on twitter word count: 1.5l

(angst / smut / fluff / gore)

Chapter 5 - Solace

Rushing through the front doors of the hospital, sweat dripping down your temple, you nearly collide with a passing nurse, who you grab by the elbow and ask, “M-My f-friend. I got a c-call… S-Surgery?”

The nurse stares down at you, confusion overtaking her features, before understanding blossoms mere moments later. She echoes, “Your friend is in surgery?”

You nod, wildly, and with shaky hands, you take out your phone. “M-My friend.”

Gesturing to the picture on the front screen shows you, Young-mi and Mei Li, at your last girl’s trip to Mei Li’s hometown, dressed in traditional, vibrant yukata during a summer festival in Japan.

She asks, kind eyes taking in your trembling form, “Her name?”

“Mei Li,” you tell her, legs feeling like jelly. “She’s nineteen, a freshman.”

“Come with me,” she says, gently leading you towards the nurse’s station. She spends a couple of seconds tapping away at the screen, before she tells you, “Your friend just came out of surgery and is in her recovery room.”

You plead, “What happened to her?”

“I can’t give that information,” she says, apologetically. “Her doctor would be able to inform you about the specifics of her injuries.”

“Which room?”

“405, bed 6,” she informs you and after a lax bow, you rush off, taking the elevator to the fourth floor.

You had already sent Young-mi a text about the call you got – apparently you were Mei Li’s emergency contact, considering her parents were both back in Japan and she had nobody but her housemates to rely on – but she was still at work, and would be until after midnight. You didn’t know how you were going to cope by yourself.

Biting your nails as you shuffle down the hallway, eyes scanning the door numbers until you find the appropriate one and you almost burst into the room. The only thing that keeps you restrained is the fact that there are other people around her, in their own beds, recovering from a medley of injuries and illnesses.

Spotting her bed right at the end of the room closest to the window, you notice the gurney is hidden from sight by a blandly decorated curtain. After exhaling, sharply, you draw it back with trembling hands, to see Mei Li, slumbering. Her skin is clearly pale and tinged with grey, bruised already blossoming across her exposed skin, hidden beneath the scrubs on her shoulders. You spot all sorts of insertions leading to an IV drip and the heart monitor to the left of her, and the sight nearly brings you to your knees.

The doctor doing rounds steps into the room and takes stock of you – your quivering hands, your tear-streaked face, your ruddy cheeks – and asks, quietly, “Are you related to this patient?”

“She’s m-my housemate, I’m her e-emergency contact,” you explain. He notices how unsteady you are and offers you a seat. Dropping into the chair, you lean your forehead against the edge of the bed, careful to avoid Mei’s legs, and turn to look at her, unable to tear your eyes from the bandaged injuries to her neck and chest. “What happened to her?”

“She seems to have been a victim of a canine attack,” he says, carefully checking over her chart. “There were heavy lesions to her throat and chest area, deep bite marks that almost severed the arteries in her throat, but thankfully, it wasn’t deep enough to cause long-lasting damage to her vocal cords. The breathing machine is there just to help her through the night while she’s unconscious.”

You swallow, feeling the final vestiges of adrenaline leave your system, and you slump in your seat, like a puppet after it’s strings get cut. You ask, rubbing at your eyes behind your glasses, “When is she going to wake up?”

“Once the anaesthesia works itself out of her system, she’ll wake up on her own. It could be a few hours, though,” he tells you. “She was signed in by someone with the name Kim Namjoon. Do you recognise the name?”

Kim Namjoon? One of the Bangtan Boys? Vaguely, you remember the junior having the same name, but you can’t imagine why he’d have helped your friend, or why he would’ve been out so late at night. Shaking your head free of those errant thoughts, you turn to the doctor and reply, “I-I think so. He- He was the one who brought her in?”

The doctor nods. “According to these notes, yes. He brought her in, waited until her surgery was done, paid the fee and left.”

You feel small and pathetic but knowing that her fees had been covered fills you with a brief sense of relief, as you don’t know how you would’ve helped cover it after the fact. Pushing some hair behind your ear, you enquire, “Did he leave a contact number?”

“No, once we contacted you, we didn’t need his information besides his name,” he tells you, tucking the chart back in place at the end of the bed. “Shall we contact her parents?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll let them know,” you reply. “I’ll stay with her until she wakes up. Thank you, doctor.”

He nods, the two of you exchange bows and he moves on to the next patient, leaving you to your whirring thoughts.

Shakily, you reach out to grab her hand, knitting your fingers together, but her face doesn’t so much as twitch in response, and while you’re disappointed, you can’t help but be a little comforted by the fact that she’s asleep and away from the pain of the injuries scattered across her body.

The shock has finally started to wear off, and you feel yourself becoming drained, the adrenaline leaving your body, but your nerves are still primed and alert, leaving you exhausted and wobbly.

Mei Li has always been a scaredy-cat, so you can’t imagine her approaching a dog big enough to caught so much damage to her body willingly. It just doesn’t fit her character. There are too many parts of the story that are missing, too many gaps that only Mei, and you suppose Kim Namjoon, can fill, and it’s giving you a tension headache.

A couple of hours pass before Young-mi’s terrified call comes through, and as concisely as you can, you explain the situation and she promises to be there as quick as possible. It doesn’t take long, and you worry that she had ignored some traffic laws to get to the hospital as far as she could.

As soon as your eyes land on her shaken form, you let out a low cry and break down in her arms. Instead of disturbing the other patients, who have long since fallen asleep, the two of you step out into the hallway and cry in each other’s arms.

“It’s already so late,” she mumbles, a few minutes later, once you’ve both been reduced to sniffles and red cheeks. She squeezes your hand once and asks, quietly, “Don’t you want to go home? I’ll wait until she wakes up.”

“You’ve been at the diner all evening,” you tell her, shaking your head. “I’ll stay, you go home.”

“Not to be annoying, but you look terrible, YN,” she tells you, pushing your hair back. “Go home, shower and change.”

“I showered before I came,” you reply, defensively. “I don’t smell bad, do I?”

“No, but you just look…” she breaks off, grimacing. “You look like you need a breather.”

“What I need is a cigarette,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes in frustration. She gives you a venomous glare, to which you hold up your hands and say, “I told you I quit.”

She holds your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. “Go home, YN, and get some sleep. I’ll call you as soon as she wakes up.”

“I don’t want to leave her,” you state, staring at the door in front of you.

She shakes her head. “I don’t have classes on Fridays, so I can stay. Please, you look like you’re about to keel over. You’re worrying me more than Mei is right now. She’s safe, she’s recovering, she’s okay.”

Letting out a long-winded sigh, you eventually concede to her demands. She gives you a gentle smile before shoving some bills into your palm and telling you to take a cab. She tucks some of your stray hair behind your ear and says, seriously, “It’s too late at night for you to be taking the late buses.”

After kissing Mei on her forehead and making Young-mi promise once more to give you a call, you find yourself in a cab, driving down the roads towards your shared apartment in Hongdae. Staring out into the blanket of darkness that has cocooned your city, you feel something twist and turn inside of your chest - intrigue, curiosity, fascination.

The tail-end of an errant thought catches your attention, turning quickly into a badly-formed plan. Determination blooms in your chest, and in resolution, you set your shoulders and lean forward, to tell the cab driver to change directions.

“I have to see somebody about something serious, so if you could drive to this address quickly, I’d appreciate it.”

- end -

Masterlist / Chapter (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15)

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sapiowoman28 · 3 years

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I can, I can't : Part 1 of 3

Pairing: Jaemin x female reader

Gener: best friends to lovers au, smut, fluff

Warning: mentions of sex, masturbation (Female)

Summary: Jaemin and Y/N are part of a group of best friends. One day, things change.....

They called themselves the dropouts. Brought up in good Catholic families, active within the Church community as kids, Catholic school education... the works. They then grew up and stopped going.

It wasn't some group thing were everyone agreed to stop going altogether at the same time. It was more like, one by one, they stopped going.

Jeno was the first to stop, at 15, after his parents got divorced. He became angry and withdrawn. By 16 he was mixing with the wrong crowd - think underaged drinking, partying, It was only after a close brush with the law that he - literally and figuratively - sobered up and decided to focus on healthier pursuits like education and sports. Thankfully too, the old Jeno that everyone knew and love came back.

Then were was Renjun. Renjun was always the one who wasn't really into religion anyway. He was more apt to believing in aliens and ghosts. His mother kept him going for as long as she could. By 18 he was out.

Haechan, as he got older, became a sporadic goer. After moving out on his own to live with the guys and Y/N in an apartment closer to campus, he stopped too.

Y/N? The older she grew, the more she learnt about the importance of gender equality. The more she embraced feminism, the more she found some church teachings hard to swallow.

All was left, of course, was Jaemin. Now Jaemin, he was still a "good boy", faithfully going to Church every Sunday. It wasn't that he was extremely religious. It was more that he had gone to Church every single week all his life. To not go one week felt odd and different.

The good thing was, nobody made fun of him or tried to stop him from going. Jeno even woke him up on Sunday mornings before he went for his 10km runs just so Jaemin would get to mass on time. (Mass is what Catholics call a church service.)

Y/N enjoyed hanging out with her friends. She was like one of the boys. It had always been like that since they were young. Everyone who knew Y/N knew she was not to be messed with. Not only was she capable of kicking anyone's balls, she also had four bros who would come after their ass too. In fact, guys who were interested in dating her would often try to get in good standing with the four guys so life would be easier for them. So it was hardly surprising that Y/N had never had her heart broken.

The problem was, Y/N was the one breaking hearts. Commitment wasn't her strongest suit, and more often than not she'd break off with whoever she was seeing with very trivial reasons, First she was dating Xiaojun. Then 7 months later she broke it off with him because apparently he "sucked at making out". The truth was, Xiaojun was good enough in bed but Y/N wanted to date the more exciting Yang Yang after meeting him at a frat party her gal friends dragged her to and making out with him. So Yang Yang it was. For a while she was happy. But then 10 months passed and Yang Yang was history. Now it seemed, was some guy called Lucas.

"Now, before you guys misunderstand, Lucas is not my boyfriend." Y/N declared over a pizza with Jaemin one Saturday night. "He's just... a friend..."

Jaemin raised his eyebrow. "You mean a friend with benefits? Cos based on what we have to hear every single Friday night, none of us think you guys are friends. Speaking of which.... Jeno wants me to talk to you."

"Let me guess, you lost rock paper scissors. Again. And that's why you're the one speaking to me."

"Well, we have house rules to follow..." Jaemin started, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

"Jeno and his stupid house rules." Y/N sighed. "What now? I can't bring Lucas home?"

"It's getting kind of weird for all of us...."

"You guys bring girls home all the time!" Y/N protested.

"I don't." Jaemin said. It was true.

"Jeno does. Haechan does. Even Renjun! Remember that weird Yoga chick he was seeing?"

"But they're not loud. Lucas sounds like he has a loudhailer in his throat and it's weird hearing him......we end up having to use headphones."

"I've tried asking him to tone it down. But he gets too excited when I blow him..." Y/N grinned as Jaemin covered his ears with his hands, not wanting to hear the details.

"Look, Jeno says he appreciates that YOU have gotten less loud since that time you were dating Yang Yang. But Lucas he's just.... too expressive. Can't you do it at his house or something? It's not the moaning as much as the dirty talk, you know?" Jaemin's voice was getting tinier and tinier.

"If Jeno has a problem, why can't he tell me himself?" I know it's not Haechan or Renjun who are complaining. Haechan's always gaming with his stupid headphones on and Renjun's always listening to music on his noise cancelling ones."

Jaemin sighed. "Don't put me in a tough spot, Y/N..."

He looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Fine. I'll speak to Lucas. But I'm only doing it cos of you, cos you good Catholic boy and virgin and all."

Jaemin rolled his eyes. "For the last time, Y/N, I'm not a virgin!"

Lucas took the news surprisingly well and he was happy to have her hang at his apartment instead. Which turned out to be a better thing, since his apartment was bigger and his housemates were never around. Y/N wondered why she insisted on making out at her apartment to begin with.

"I'm surprised Jeno was the one with the problem.." Lucas said after they had made out and she was snuggling in his arms.

"He has all these rules. The worst part is he makes Jaemin speak to me instead of telling me directly."

"It makes sense. You and Jaemin are close."

"I'm close to all four of them."

"No no no." Lucas said, "Each of them has a different thing with you."

"Explain, Mr Wong." she said, looking up at him.

"I think Jeno knows both of you have strong characters so he has Jaemin speak to you instead when there's an issue so you guys won't argue. He prefers to keep things light, so the most you're gonna get is Jeno making fun of you for having a thing for foriegn men."

"What about Haechan?"

"Haechan's your gaming bestie. You talk about gaming, and game together. But he'd kick the ass of anyone who gives you trouble."

"I think I'm least close to Renjun."

"I don't think it's that. It's more Renjun is kind of in his own world. He's like that with everyone. But he feels close to you guys."

Y/N was impressed.

"What about Jaemin?"

"Jaemin's like your total opposite. But you guys get each other. I like him. He's a good guy."

"Yeah he's a virgin." Y/N joked.

"He's a good looking guy! Heck, if I was a chick I'd go after him man!" Lucas said, his eyes expressive as always.

"Well, he's a good guy. I've never seen him bring a girl home."

"Come on man, when it comes to hormones, even good guys turn bad."

Lucas was driving her home when she got a call from Jaemin.

"Wassup?"

"Are you alone?" Jaemin asked. He sounded strange. "I need help."

"Are you ok?" Y/N asked. "I'm with Lucas. Where are you?"

"Oh. I'll call someone else..."

"Don't be an idiot, Jaemin. Where are you?"

"Hospital." he said. "Can you come? Just don't tell anyone anything. Not even Lucas."

She found him in a bad state at the hospital. Sitting in a daze, blood stains on his crumpled shirt. Y/N had never seen Jaemin look so small.

"Hey" she half whispered. He looked up.

"I can go now. I got an x-ray done. My nose is not broken. And it's finally stopped bleeding." he said. "I already collected my medicines. Mostly painkillers."

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." he said.

"Let's get home and get you out of these bloody clothes. And then you can tell me after you've had a good night's sleep."

"Can i sleep in your room tonight?" he asked. It was an unsual request. "I'm feeling quite shaken."

"Yeah. Sure. Let's do that."

It was 2am and he still couldn't sleep. She could feel him toss and turn next to her.

"Jae."

"Sorry."

"No, I can't sleep either."

He sat up.

"I need to get my ID card back. Can you follow me tomorrow?"

"Your ID card?"

"I was fooling around with a first year chick in her house. Her parents came back and caught us. Her dad took my ID away, said he was going to lodge a police report against me for tresspassing his house and taking advantage of his daughter. Well, that's after he beat me up."

Y/N sat up. This was interesting, she thought.

"She's 18?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"18 is legal you dumbass." she slapped her forehead.

"I thought it was 21.."

Y/N groaned. "I can't believe you're so stupid."

"But the trespassing thing?"

"They don't have a case Jae. I'm sure you can prove you were invited there. Even if she lies and said she didn't invite you. They can't prove it beyond a reasonable doubt."

"I'm so glad you're studying law."

"And Jaemin?"

"What?"

"It's illegal for him to detain your ID. YOU can report him."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Can you go sleep now that you know you're not actually in trouble?"

"Yes. Thanks Y/N." he said, turning to face the opposite side.

But Y/N couldn't sleep. Her mind was running a million miles a minute. Jaemin made out with someone. What was he like when making out? Was he gentle? Was he sweet like he always was to everyone? Was he a dom or sub? What did he do with the girl? Did he have fun?

Her own thoughts made her sick. Feeling a stir in her stomach made her sick. This was her best friend she was thinking of. She had to stop. Maybe she needed a shower.

Taking a towel with her to the bathroom, she shut the door, stripping quickly and getting under the hot jets of water. Damn it, Y/N, she scolded herself. Not Na Jaemin. What happened to your thing for Chinese guys?

She soaped herself trying to escape the mental picture of Jaemin, between the girl's thighs, lapping on her clit mercilessly, his eyes twinkling like they would whenever Jeno or Haechan said something witty. Suddenly, she was thinking of him between her legs, lapping at her core.

She brought her fingers to her clit, rubbing them from side to side. She leaned against the bathroom wall, moving more aggressively. She was wet. Biting her lip she pushed two fingers into her pussy, thrusting them in and out, the sound of the shower masking the wet noises as her fingers moved.

The muscles in her stomach were tightening. She could no longer hold back, thinking of Jaemin thrusting into her, looking at her with an intense gaze. She wanted him bad.

Slowly she came undone, as she moaned into her hands while cumming.

Suddenly, someone was knocking aggressively on the bathroom door. Y/N froze.

"I need to pee!" Haechan shrieked. "Hurry! I need to go back to my game!"

"Give me 2 minutes I'll be done." Y/N said, drying herself with her towel and getting dressed, mind still dazed from thinking about Jaemin. She knew their friendship was never going to be the same ever again.

She was just wondering how easy or hard it was going to be, to get Jaemin to join her on the other side.

#nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #nct dream jaemin #nct dream jeno #nct dream haechan #nct dream renjun #wayv lucas #wayv yangyang #wayv xiaojun #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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LIFE CYCLE OF MASSIVE STARS | A CAMP NANO 2021 (RE)-INTRO

CONTENT WARNINGS: death of a parent, classism, anti-autistic ableism, mental illness, trauma, light adult content (nothing explicit)

Genre: literary fiction, contemporary, new adult, ?????, who knows :)

POV: third person present, split POV

Setting: Sheffield, UK. 2020 but i am simply pretending there is no pandemic

Camp Nano Goal: 15,000

Deals With: parental trauma, death, sexuality + gender identity, anti-autistic ableism, classism, complicated family dynamics, the “help i’m in my last year of university and i don’t know what i’m fucking doing or who i am” mood, chloe talks shit about the uk + uk gov for ~80k words straight

The Vibes: rainy days, empty streets at night, libraries at 3am, house parties you shouldn’t be at, misty mornings, highlighter stains, cheap alcohol, city skylines, countryside views, going to big tesco/aldi just to feel something :(

Summary: Thomas’ father died over summer and he doesn’t know how to tell his housemates. Instead, he hides in the IC library or the Botanical Gardens or West Street clubs and decides that he is a blank canvas, and that his trauma can stay with his family in Rotterdam. (it’s not that easy)

Kristen likes to pretend that Uni will last forever. He likes to pretend a lot of things: that nobody will look at him differently when they learn he’s autistic, that people will understand his relationship with gender, that his family isn’t hiding secrets from him about his mother. (it’s not that easy)

Junie thought coming out would come with all the answers. But she only has new questions: what does “lesbian” mean for her? Who is she beyond that? How does she find her place in amongst people who experience the world so differently to her? (it’s not that easy)

Literal Logline: girl help i am still attached to OCs i made in 2013-2016

So if you’ve been following me a while (I say as my blog is only seven months old), you may remember a little wip I introduced here named Patchwork, a new adult novel that dealt with the messy experience that is trying to figure out what it means to be an adult when you’re plunged into the fast-paced adult world of university. That story has always been very close to my heart but it was difficult to progress on because:

I was working on it whilst going through ~the worst time of my life at university~. My second year was already awful before the pandemic started, and the pandemic just made it worse, and since this story is so inherently connected to my own experiences at university I couldn’t work on it whilst dealing with all of that. I’m currently taking the year off until things calm down and I think it’s the perfect chance to sit back and reflect on those experiences, and I think writing this novel would help

I simply was not ready for it! Drafting Revelations, Revelations has really refreshed my perception on novels because it’s taught me that I suit slow-paced, plot-light, discovery written novels the best and the original plan for this novel was way too plot heavy because I thought that’s what I had to do. But it’s not!

But! Whilst this novel and myself needed a lot of growth before I could think about drafting it, I’m at a point where I do feel ready to return to it. I think drafting Revelations, Revelations especially has given me the confidence I needed because I! Really tried to hard to give a heavy plot to this novel initially and I’ve since realised that I work best with slower novels that are really just a snapshot of people’s lives and their emotional growth. I also am at a point where, whilst I know not being there is the best thing right now, I miss University so so so much and I miss pre-pandemic University like I miss lecture halls and cafes and house parties and library all nighters so much it’s unreal!! This novel is practically a love letter to the year I lost as well as calling out the absolutely awful way the UK government has treated University students both before and during this pandemic. I was actually originally going to set this in the pandemic, because I think there are so many conversations that need to be had about the handling of it in this country but I also don’t think I am Ready for that (and I really just want my characters to be able to go outside lol). I think Camp Nano is the perfect kickstart to actually work on this novel because I now know just need to start writing rather than worry about ~plot~ - my plan is to just pants the fuck out of 15000 words and see where the story goes! I probably won’t return to it until I finish drafting Revelations, Revelations, but I appreciate the chance to get a head start + a little break from RR that I think will be needed by April

The biggest and most important change going into this however is: all three protagonists are autistic! I see a lot of posts about how to write autistic characters on here, but I think I’ve only seen one or two stories that actually had an autistic protagonist (if you have a contemporary and/or literary wip with one please please tag me in it! I really want more autistic rep and I want autistic rep from non autistic people too) and, as an autistic, I decided that I Will Simply Create It. All three characters have their own unique relationship with their autism and I am super excited to have a story that can explicitly navigate that whilst it’s not all the story is about, it is an important element as it shapes how our narrators see the world. And whilst there is anti-autistic sentiment they have to deal with, it’s not at the centre of their narratives or autistic stories. They are just autistic and existing and that’s not always easy but it’s ultimately what makes them who they are and they wouldn’t change it for the world. Being autistic is a wonderful thing! I love being autistic! I also would love to talk more about autistic rep on here (unfortunately relevant thanks to a certain movie): my biggest frustration is that it is SO clear that mainstream autistic rep is not actually for us. It perpetuates harmful ideas and only serves as inspiration porn for neurotypicals. They frame our condition on how it impacts others and don’t consult us or let us tell our own stories and pretend we’re all cis white verbal boys with bad social skills. I am only one autistic person, and I cannot write for everyone in the community (please make sure you are listening to and supporting all sorts of autistic people!), but I hope that telling a story influenced by my own will not only help myself but others - and maybe help out any of you that aren’t autistic and are looking to write autistic rep.

The main characters haven’t changed much, but a little re-intro :)

Thomas

studies psychology

bisexual disaster

panic attack! in the library cafe

wannabe plant dad (one of them is named monty :) will monty survive?)

looks like he’d invite you to watch pulp fiction in his dorm but he’s probably never seen it and his favourite movie is probably like. ratatouille

taking italian classes to cope

Junie

studies psychology

16 year old chloe made a pretty girl oc and was like hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me and here we are

bakes to cope

the BEST fashion

lets go on an adventure :) -screams in the forest-

she’s done your birth chart and she is NOT happy

Kristen

studies english and music

the way i literally can’t let go of this bastard and it’s been 8 years

former emo kid who never really got over it

BEST party playlists

often found in the kitchen at 4am making cinnamon rolls

unsupervised access to the internet as a child

i have no taglist for this, but like with NaNoWriMo, i’ll likely do a dedicated taglist for Camp Nano updates and we’ll see where it goes from there! As I said I likely will take a long break from this story after April until I finish drafting Revelations, Revelations, so the taglist will just be for Camp Nano, but I’m excited to spend a month getting to know it and sharing that with y’all so if you’d like to me on a taglist for this, let me know! <3

#i promise my next novel wont be third person present split pov but it is <3 so good <3 #wip intro #amwriting #writeblr #atlastracking #LCOMS #once again i am making a post at 5am and i am also autistic so ignore typos pls <3

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theshabozengine · 3 years

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I don't watch Vtubers but I want to fuck that orange haired girl you keep posting. Also why is it sad she is graduating? Shouldn't you be happy she is getting her diploma? Education is important

Her name is Kiryu Coco.

"Graduation" in idol-speak means "leaving the company", be that because of being thrown out ("forcibly graduated" like Aloe or Hitomi) or just deciding that enough is enough.

Kiryu Coco was the VTuber that really pushed for Western involvement, since she came from America originally before moving to Japan to get more in touch with her roots. Without Kiryu Coco, the entire Hololive English branch wouldn't exist since it was her suggestion for it to be made. She also adores the community, often highlighting shitty memes they make and used to have a little news show where she would summarize everything that happened that week in idoling. Coco was also a ride-or-die bitch and stood up for her friend Haachama when the Chinese were bullying the fuck out of her because she happened to mention that a good portion of her viewership came from Taiwan. On her little news show, she brought up Taiwan and mentioned that she too had a large amount of viewers that watched from Taiwan (fun fact, Chinese fucks use Taiwan in VPNs and stuff to get around things. The 'Taiwanese viewer-base' was most likely just Chinese people using VPNs and such being retards.).

Because she stood up for her friend, both her and Haachama were suspended from Hololive for a while, while Cover the company behind Hololive tried to damage control. When they saw that there was nothing they could do to change the minds of fucking idiots who shit themselves over the mere mention of the word 'Taiwan', Cover cut their entire Chinese branch of idols and supposedly did their best to protect Coco and Haachama.

Eventually upon her return, Haachama still got a bit of hate, but the slimefucks realized it was a genuine 'mistake' and cut her a bit of slack. COCO, however, did so intentionally and with intent and they couldn't let that slide because they're retarded subhuman filth. Coco was bombarded with hatred and just so much evil that she had to basically sequester herself off away from the rest of Hololive as a whole.

She wasn't welcome to do crossovers, her news show was canceled, she wasn't allowed to appear in any of their 3-D skits, it was horrible the way she was treated. She did her absolute best to hang in there and even fought back against the Chinese as best she could, but then suspiciously things started to tilt towards the Chinese's favor. A red was made a Mod and started banning Coco's regulars, resulting in her crying on stream and her housemate Kanata having to console her, Cover made public comments towards them to try and get them to stop, it was a whole shitshow. After all this, Coco still tried to hang on, but...

Now she has chosen to leave Hololive. On the surface it appears to be mutual, but a lot of people theorize (please note this is people guessing and nothing has been said about whether its true or not from either Cover or Coco) that Cover made her life at Hololive so insufferable that she essentially had no choice but to quit. The truth of this matter will most likely come down to if they attempt to re-open the Chinese branch, where it will be incredibly obvious that they allowed Coco to be harassed until she just broke. No one knows for certain why Coco is leaving other than Coco, but it is a said affair none-the-less.

On a more personal note, Coco was my absolute favorite VTuber, and though she wasnt the one that introduced me to the concept (that would be Kizuna Ai who has her own entire list of drama associated with her), she has always been my favorite. The fact that she could stay so strong in spite of all the evil thrown her way made me love her even more, and it just hurts to know that we won't be able to see her anymore as our beloved dragon. Obviously she has her own personal channel, which according to some might be a reason she has to leave (again, nobody knows and this is a guess from certain parties that she didn't want to delete her personal streaming channel where she has another VTuber avatar and Cover basically gave her an ultimatum), and I'm obviously going to support her over there, but it'll sting a bit not seeing her interact with her friends over at Hololive. I don't think she's even allowed to show up in Kanata's streams once she's gone, and they're fucking housemates.

Overall, and I'm fairly sure that you were joking with the question but I thought I'd answer anyway, it's just an extremely sad situation especially since her fuckin birthday just happened. It hurts, it sucks, and I'm crushed we weren't able to protect her smile. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

#kiryu coco #coco kiryu #hololive #if I'm wrong about anything just give me a head-up or something

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missmentelle · 4 years

Note

Hello So i'm about to move from my parents house into an aprtment with my best friend and her friend as roomates. Do you've got any tips on how to make sure we won't get into huge fights, learning how to be responisble with the bugdet and getting to know her friend more? I am really stressed out about it but there's no going back now

It can definitely be nerve-wracking to live with people you aren’t related to for the first time, whether you are moving in with friends, your partner, or random roommates off the internet. I’ve lived with many, many people over the years - most of them strangers I found online - and the best advice I can give you to make the experience more pleasant is to set ground rules and boundaries early, and to make sure that everyone is on the same page. Even close friends can have very different expectations when it comes to sharing a living space, and the big things that you’ll probably want to figure out are:

Shared expenses. Are common staples like margarine, ketchup, salt, dish soap, toilet paper and cooking oil going to be shared by the entire household, or does everyone have to buy their own? If you are sharing stuff, can one person decide to just go buy stuff that’s running low and ask for reimbursement, or do you all need to agree in advance? My roommates and I used to keep a communal list on the fridge that one person would use to make our monthly Costco run, and we’d all just pay one-third of whatever the total ended up being. You might prefer a similar approach, or you might just take turns paying - ie “I bought the last pack of toilet paper, now you buy the next one”. It depends on your budget, and how good your housemates are about holding up their end of the bargain. If you are on a smaller budget than others, or if one roommate tends to use more than their fair share, it might be less of a headache if everyone just buys their own stuff. It’s also important to figure out how rent and bills will be paid - whose name are they in? Are you paying rent with three separate cheques, or is one person writing a cheque for the whole rent? If one person is writing a cheque, when do you need to give them your portion of the rent each month?

Shared household items and appliances. If everyone has brought some kitchen items - cups, mugs, plates, etc - into the household, is every item totally up for grabs, or are there any special items (like a favourite mug or expensive blender) that not everyone is allowed to use? How is fridge and pantry space going to be divided? Are everyone’s items just put into the cupboards together, or do you each get a cupboard for the things you individually own? Does anyone have any allergies or dietary restrictions - like Kosher or Halal requirements - that make it important for other people to not use their dishes? My roommates and I always put our kitchen stuff together in a jumble and just went with it, but I have friends with strict Kosher roommates who cannot share any kitchenware at all. Will you all chip in to buy shared items like a couch and coffee table, or will one person buy the item and own it by themselves?

Chore schedule. Different people have different standards of cleanliness, and it’s important to figure out how often cleaning should be done so that no one feels like they’re living in a hovel. How quickly should people be doing their dishes - as soon as they’ve finished cooking? Within 24 hours? Or will you eat together and take turns washing dishes? How often will non-daily chores - like mopping the floors, cleaning the shower stall, and cleaning the oven - be done, and who will do them? My roommates and I used to block out 2-3 hours every Sunday as “cleaning time” when we would all deep-clean the apartment together, but you might prefer to have assigned individual chores that you can do on your own time.

Guest policy. Overnight guests and partners are probably one of the biggest sources of tension in a roommate relationship. Namely, how long can you have a guest stay in the apartment with you before they need to start chipping in with the bills? Do you need to give the other roommates advance notice before a guest comes to stay for a while? How many days out of the month can someone’s partner stay over before they effectively become part of the household and need to pitch in with bills and chores? Is it even okay if someone’s partner is staying over constantly, or are you not cool with that at all? Are roommates allowed to give their partners a key to the apartment, or does everyone in the apartment need to be on board before that can happen? My roommates and I had a lot of long-term guests in our tiny Manhattan apartment, but that only went smoothly because everyone was 100% okay with having long-term guests, and we had a hard limit on how many days someone could stay out of the month before they needed to start putting money in our “toilet paper and dish soap” fund.

Shower schedule. If everyone in the apartment is working on a similar Monday-Friday, 9-5 schedule (which is less likely to be the case these days, but still), it’s important to work out a basic schedule for who gets to shower when in the mornings. There is nothing that will make you want to flip out on your roommate quite like being late for work because they took a 45-minute shower when you needed to get ready. If you don’t each have your own ensuite bathroom, figure out who gets the bathroom when in the mornings, or decide who is going to shower at night to avoid conflict.

Quiet hours. At what hours of the day is it inconsiderate for a roommate to be making noise or watching TV in common areas while people are trying to sleep? The answer may depend on the layout of the apartment, your individual work schedules, and how sensitive everyone is to noise. If you have roommates that work nights or are working from home during the day and need quiet for their conference calls, that’s something else to keep in mind.

Breaking the lease. What happens if something comes up, and one person needs to leave before the lease is over? How much notice do they need to give the other roommates? Is it the departing roommate’s responsibility to find someone to take over their bedroom, or would the remaining roommates rather choose who they are living with? If you all pitched in to make a big purchase together - like a couch or a kitchen table - how will that work if one person leaves the lease? And how will the damage deposit be handled? The majority of leases I’ve been on have not had all the original roommates stay until the end, and it was important to plan for that in advance so that no one felt like they’d been tricked into living with someone new that they never agreed to live with.

Above all, the secret to living with roommates is to communicate, and to try to be as considerate of others as you can. The way that you live and manage your finances directly affects your roommates’ quality of life, and everyone needs to put in some serious effort to make sure that everyone gets to enjoy the living space that they are paying for. The money stuff is especially important - talk to your roommates ahead of time about what costs you will be sharing and what costs you won’t, and make sure that you are setting aside the money you need for shared expenses each month so that no one is left holding the bag. And be sure to speak up if other roommates aren’t respecting your needs either - the occasional dirty coffee cup left in the sink or wine spilled on the rug is just a part of life and probably not worth fighting over, but if someone is consistently neglecting their chores, making huge messes, making lots of noise at night or failing to pay their fair share of household expenses, that’s a situation that you need to speak up about, so that you can all try to find a way to resolve the issue. Living with a friend, roommate or partner is all about finding a balance between accommodating other people and sticking up for yourself, and it’s a balance that will be become easier with time.

It’s also important to find time to just enjoy hanging out with your roommates. Yes, living with other people can be scary and stressful, and there may be times when you’re ready to scream because someone ate your ice cream without permission and no one remembered to buy more toilet paper, but there will also be good times, especially if you are living with someone you are already friends with. Some of the best memories of my early 20s were just from hanging out with my roommates - like the time that we got drunk on cheap wine and painted some silly paintings because we couldn’t afford to decorate the apartment properly, or the time we got a huge box of breakfast food from the local diner and stayed up all night watching Game of Thrones, or the time we had to spend all day taking all our IKEA furniture apart in the lobby and carrying it up to our walk-up piece by piece because none of us could lift the boxes, and we barely made it up the stairs because we were laughing so hard. Being young and kind of broke and living with your friends can be a very fun time in your life, and it’s important to enjoy it - hang out together, do silly things, enjoy making mistakes because none of you have any real idea what you’re doing. Just because you have financial responsibilities and a chore chart doesn’t mean that you can’t have fun. Best of luck to you! Miss Mentelle

#Anonymous

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years

Text

Knowledge and Ambition

tw: Cursing, anxiety, insecurities, bullying/gossiping

Word count: 6.75k

Genre: Fluff, mild angst

Pairing: Ravenclaw Kuroo x Slytherin Female Reader

AN: It’s September 1st, aka the first day of school at Hogwarts! I’ve been procrastinating on this fic for like a month or so, so I forced myself to finish this at 3 AM LMAO.

The sound of turned pages stuttered by scratching quills clung to the darkness as flames flickered around the room. You kept blinking, eyes drying from how long you’ve been focused. A sigh, and you slumped against the back of the chair. You had been sitting in this dark corner for the past three hours, pouring over text after text as you tried to wrap your head around the contents. Another sigh left you as you re-read what you wrote, dipping your black quill into the blue ink to make corrections. “It’s almost curfew, wrap it up.” Madam Pince poked her head around the bookshelf, peering over her spectacles at the tower of books you had surrounding you.

You pulled a note from your bag, standing up to give it to her. “I’m sorry Madam Pince, Professor Snape gave me permission to stay here past curfew.” She gingerly took the note from you, a scowl shadowing her face as she scrutinized it for legitimacy before turning on her heel with a huff to head back to her desk. Since you were already standing, you decided to stretch your legs and go look for that last text that should help push your claims about alternative ingredient usage and the degree of change to the potion.

Snape had always liked you as a student, especially after third year. He had caught you switching out certain roots for other herbs which still ended up with perfect potions every time. Since then, you had to be honest with your professor. You wanted to impact the Potions community, whether as someone who created a new Potion or as someone who wrote the new standard textbook. You were fortunate enough that Snape preferred Slytherins, otherwise you might not have been afforded the same opportunity that he had granted.

You sighed, (e/c) eyes scanning the shelves. Snape had recommended a very specific one. Its maroon binding caught your attention. With fingers reaching for it, they brushed against another hand. “Sorry!” You yanked your hand back, eyes following the hand up to the person. Looming over you was a familiar sight. Quidditch Captain, Prefect, and heart-throb of the school Kuroo Tetsurou stood over you.

“Sorry, I should have paid more attention.” Kuroo pulled the book out, offering it to you.

You shook your head, glancing back at your table. “It’s ok, you can use it.”

His hazel eyes followed yours, “are you sure? It must be important if you need this specifically amongst all the other ones.”

You flushed, avoiding his eyes. “It’s not that important.”

Kuroo’s finger dragged down the maroon binding. “I was just planning on doing some light reading.” He hands it to you, clearing his throat. “What are you working on?”

You offer him a small smile. “I’m working on a research paper.”

“On what?” He looked down at the book. “I’m assuming it’s something Potions-related.”

A soft giggle left you. “Yeah, I’m conducting research on alternative ingredients use in potions and the effects of using such alternatives.” Kuroo’s eyes widened. As he opened his mouth, Madam Pince hissed another demand for silence. A loud yawn overtook your features, eyes squeezing shut. Glancing at your watch, you clicked your tongue. “It’s getting late. I’ll probably finish whatever else I can in the common room.” Kuroo frowned, he had just been about to ask if he could study with you. “Nice to meet you, Kuroo.” You scooped your books into your arms, cramming whatever would fit into your bag before sending him a wave. The maroon book felt heavy in his hands.

****

“Are you looking at (Name)?”

Kuroo flushed, whipping his head to face his best friend. Kenma just continued eating, not looking at Kuroo. “No.”

“Yes he is.” Yaku slid into the seat across from Kuroo.

“No I’m not!”

“You’re blushing.” Kai sat across from the trio, smiling pleasantly at them. Akaashi sat beside him, flipping through one of his books as he ignored them.

“Ok, maybe just a little bit.” Kuroo angrily stabbed a potato, chewing on it as he avoided his friends’ eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from peeking over at you every few seconds though. You were seated at the Slytherin table, throwing your head back in laughter as you teased your housemates.

“Isn’t she known as the Cold Princess?” Akaashi inquired, still not looking up.

Kuroo glanced over at Akaashi then to the rest of the group when he heard them all agreeing. “‘Cold Princess’?”

“Yeah, heard she’s like super mean to everyone outside of her house.” Yaku commented, sipping his pumpkin juice. “Even some of her house-mates are scared of her.”

Kuroo frowned, not seeing why they thought that. “She seemed pretty nice to me.”

“Is that why you can’t keep your eyes off of her?”

“That’s besides the point.” Kuroo scowled, elbowing Akaashi.

“Who knew we’d find a day where Kuroo Tetsurou would be smitten with a girl.” Yaku’s eyes sparkled with humour. “Let alone the Cold Princess herself.” Yaku and Kai laughed.

“I’m not smitten!” Kuroo insisted. “She’s just...different.”

“Didn’t think you’d go for a Slytherin though, Kuroo,” Kai remarked, eating some eggs.

Kuroo shrugged. “Y’know I don’t care about all those house rivalries outside of the Quidditch field.”

Kenma snorted, “yeah cause all you care about is Quidditch.”

“And my education!” Kuroo argued.

“How’d you meet her anyways?”

He looked up to Kai. “I met her a few weeks ago in the library.” Kuroo pushed his food around on the plate, glancing between it and you. This time, you were patting a blonde male on the head. He didn’t recognize him, figuring that it was probably someone from your year. Was that your boyfriend? Kuroo wondered to himself.

Kai hummed. “I see her in the library often. She always sits by herself.”

“Seriously?” Yaku glanced over at you. “I never see her.”

“She sits in the corner,” Kai replied.

As the conversation changed to their homework, Kuroo blanked out. It had been a few weeks since that chance meeting between the two of you. He’d gone into the library most days since in an effort to talk to you, but he always found you buried in your books. Kuroo hated when people interrupted him in his readings, so he would just find a table where he could observe you - in the most nonchalant and least creepy way possible - to see if he could catch you before you left. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much luck with that. He’d accidentally immerse himself in his own work, and by the time he took a break, you were either already gone or headed out the door. Hey, he was a Ravenclaw for a reason. Once he got into his reading, he was gone to the world. With a deep sigh, he resigned himself. If you guys were meant to be friends, it’ll happen. He should worry about his own work instead of a pretty Slytherin kouhai that he had only talked to for a few minutes.

****

“Miss (L.Name).” You look up at your professor’s voice.

“Yes, Professor Snape?”

“Come to my desk at the end of class.”

“Yes, sir.” Snape’s robes billowed as he turned, slinking back towards his desk. You turned back to your cauldron, waiting for your potion to change to orange. Carefully, you added powdered porcupine quills until your potion turned white. Today, Snape had your class brewing the Draught of Peace since it was one of the potions that would commonly come up during O.W.Ls. You sat back, stirring slightly before letting the potion simmer. It was a difficult potion only because getting it wrong would be dangerous. The wrong mix of ingredients, being heavy-handed with the porcupine quills or powdered moonstone could lead to irreversible sleep. The bell rang just as you added the 7 drops of hellebore. You observed your potion, satisfied. It had come out perfectly. Bottling two samples in a glass flask for Snape, you quickly cleaned up your cauldron and the area around it.

“Ugh, you’re so lucky (Name)!”

You turned to your classmate, eyebrows furrowed. “And why’s that?”

“You’re so gifted in potions.” Nishinoya, a Gryffindor in your class, glared at his potion. You stifled a laugh. His potion had somehow turned out an ugly chartreuse color. Even the fumes looked toxic as orange smoke billowed from it.

“What the hell did you do wrong this time, Nishi?”

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Fuck if I knew, to be honest.” He bottled it, wincing at the repulsive smell of his potion.

You patted his back. “Well good luck with remedial potions.”

“Can’t you help me before it gets to that?” He whined. You and Nishinoya had been partnered in the third year of potions. Though you were typically more frosty, he had weaseled his way into your heart and became a close friend. Mostly by sheer persistence on his part. After all, who would willingly want to be friends with the Cold Princess of Slytherin?

“You know I’m busy.” You dead-panned, waving your wand over the cauldrons so that the contents disappeared. Together, you and Nishinoya walked up to Snape’s desk. By now, the majority of your classmates had left. Snape glanced at your potions, his gaze sliding over to Nishinoya’s and his face contorted in disgust.

“Another T, Mr. Nishinoya.” Nishinoya’s cheeks flushed pink, grimacing.

“I know, Professor.” His head hung low as he shuffled towards the door. “See you later, (Name).”

You offered the Gryffindor a wave that he didn’t see before turning back to your professor. “You asked to see me, Professor?”

Snape cleared his throat. “Yes. As you know, I rarely offer remedial classes to students.” A sneer made its way on his face. “However, Professor Dumbledore has...implored me..to be kinder this term. So, I have offered remedial classes and tutoring for struggling students this semester. As one of the more competent potioneers in my classes, I would like to request your assistance as a tutor.”

“Me?” The door opened, his next class filing in.

“That’s what I said, Miss (L.Name). Don’t make me take that back.” Snape’s eyes flashed dangerously as he began to put the flasks from your class away. “By taking on this task, I will be able to review the work you’ve assembled so far.” He cleared his throat, “and this would be a perfect opportunity for you to practice your teaching skills.”

Your eyes sparkled. Being able to dabble in academia seemed like a perfect opportunity for you to figure out where you wanted your future to go. “Of course Professor. Thank you for the opportunity!” Snape gave you a stiff nod.

“Now hurry up and get to class.” With a short bow, you spun on your heel to sprint out of the room. Your next class was Charms and you were most definitely going to be late if you didn’t hurry. Just as you reached the doorway, you collided into something tall and firm.

You yelped, stumbling back only for arms to dart around and steady you. “Oh, it’s you!” You glanced up, recognising him. “Sorry, I’m in a rush!” With a blinding smile, you patted his arms before dashing out under his arms and down the corridor.

“Get to your seat, Mr. Kuroo.” Kuroo’s head shot up, “and get that ridiculous look off of your face.” Pink crept up Kuroo’s face as he snapped his jaw shut, slinking towards his seat.

Snape began class, writing the instructions for the Potion for Dreamless Sleep onto the chalkboard. Yaku leaned over towards his housemate nudging him playfully, “you were staring again.” Pink turned to scarlet as Kuroo whipped around, shushing him. Yaku grinned, sitting back as he rewrote the instructions onto a piece of parchment. “She’s pretty.” Kuroo grunted in response, pulling out his ingredients. “Think she’s single?”

“Why are you so interested?” Kuroo snapped, glaring at the Keeper. “I thought you were scared of the Cold Princess.” Yaku just laughed, patting his back.

“No reason, Kuroo. No reason at all.”

****

“You’re late, Mr. Kuroo.”

“Sorry Professor,” Kuroo dipped his head. “Quidditch practice ran late today.”

Snape turned his nose, sneering. “Excuses do not belong in this classroom.” Snape turned on his heels, robes sweeping with the motion. “Hurry up then, or I will not grant you the extra credit.” Kuroo hurries into the classroom, glancing around at the dingy dungeon. He was glad that there were only eleven students. He froze, recognizing a familiar sight. Kuroo slips into the seat beside you, muttering a greeting to which you nodded in response. “With the exception of two students, you are all here because you have failed miserably to prove your worth in my class. However, this is your opportunity to redeem yourself.” Snape glowered at each and every one of the remedial students, sending chills down their spines. “Don’t squander it.”

With that, he turned and walked to the blackboard, writing down the recipe for the Shrinking Potion. Placing the chalk down, he sends one final glare to the students before going to his desk. You step in front of the blackboard, smirking at the students. “This is a simple potion that any third-year should be able to do. Follow these instructions, and Kuroo and I will be walking around to provide you help should you need it.” More chills ran up the students’ back at your last words. It was obvious that you weren’t keen on helping them should they need it.

Kuroo pinched his nose, looking around the room. As he walked around, a tall grey-haired fourth-year Slytherin caught his attention. “Can you please help me, Kuroo?” He begged.

“What seems to be the problem?”

The male winced as the potion billowed up green gas. “That,” he replied lamely.

“You added the Shrivelfig too early,” Kuroo’s eyes widened, casting a charm to dispel the gas. “You’re going to have to start all over.”

“What?! I don’t want to,” he whined. The slamming of a book caused them both to flinch, both sets of eyes darting to Snape who glared at them. “Aren’t you a Ravenclaw? Help me fix this!”

“You literally created poison gas,” Kuroo responded, pinching his nose.

Raising his wand to vanish the potion, a hand grabbed his wrist. “Lev, what did you do this time?” You pinched your nose with one hand as you stared at the potion.

“Something about Shrivelfig,” Lev muttered, crossing his arms. “I don’t see why I need to start over though!”

Your face softened. “Look, Lev, this potion has become dangerous. Do you want to fail this class and potentially hurt your fellow classmates?” You glanced at Kuroo who pulled his arm away and tucked his wand back into his robe pocket. “If it wasn’t for Kuroo’s quick-thinking, the fumes would have overtaken the class and we would be in some serious danger.” You patted the male’s head. “Here, I’ll stay with you and make sure you do it right, ok? That way you don’t have to stay extra long.”

Lev perked up. “Okay! Thanks, (Name).”

You grinned, before glancing back at Kuroo. “You can help the others now, Kuroo. Thank you for your quick-thinking.”

Heat crept up his neck as he shook his head. “It was nothing,” he replied dismissively.

You raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Whatever you say.” You turned back to Lev, vanishing the potion. “Let’s get started then, shall we Lev?” Kuroo stood there for a few moments, watching with slight amazement as you carefully guided Lev through the procedures. You looked in your element as you sliced the caterpillars and showed the younger student the best way to peel Shrivelfig. Another student called for Kuroo’s attention, snapping him out of his stupor. As Kuroo proceeded to help the others, he couldn’t help but survey you in the corner of his eyes. Perhaps there was a softer side to the Cold Princess after all.

****

Kuroo breathed a sigh of relief, stretching his shoulders. Due to the raging thunderstorm outside, he’d made the executive decision to cancel Quidditch classes. Exam season was coming up, and there was no reason to put his players’ health at risk if they could avoid it. Besides, they were doing pretty well this season. He walked up the stone stairs, following them to the library. As he entered, he couldn’t help the grimace that slid onto his face. It appeared that everyone thought to study today as the library was completely packed. He poked around, searching for an empty table only to find none. Kuroo sighed, contemplating whether or not he should go back to the dorms in order to study when he spotted you at your usual table. Luckily enough, nobody else had joined you at the table.

Steeling his nerves, Kuroo began walking towards you. As he made his journey, he picked up some whispers as people threw dark looks in your direction.

“Of course the Cold Princess would monetize an entire table.” A younger Ravenclaw scoffed.

“She threatened to hex me when I came too close,” a Hufflepuff whimpered.

“Me too!” Another Hufflepuff whispered in response.

“She said that people ruin her concentration,” a Gryffindor sneered to his housemates.

Kuroo stopped by your table, waiting anxiously for you to acknowledge him. Your nose was firmly buried into your parchment, and after a few awkward minutes of waiting, it was obvious that you weren’t going to say anything. Clearing his throat, Kuroo said, “hi.” Internally, Kuroo was screaming. ‘Hi’? Is that really all he was going to say?

You jolted, looking up at him and blinking rapidly with weary eyes. “K-Kuroo?” You stammer, rubbing one of your eyes.

Kuroo adjusted his bag awkwardly. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, gesturing to the other tables. “Everywhere else is full. Do you mind if I join you?”

You stare at him with sharp (e/c) eyes. Seconds dragged on, a cold sweat swept through his body and he was regretting every decision he had made since entering the library until you gave him a stiff nod. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Relief washed over him as he grinned. “Thank you so much, I promise I won’t be a bother.” You only gave him another stiff nod before you moved your books around to give him more space. Sliding into the chair beside you, Kuroo pulled out his Transfiguration homework.

The pair of you work in silence for an hour before you get up, stretching. Students flinched as you make your way down the shelves, burying themselves into their books or ducking behind empty aisles in order to avoid you. Just as quickly as you had gotten up, you had already plopped back into your seat. “Y’know, you’re a lot quieter than I expected,” you comment, flicking through the latest volumes you had pulled.

Kuroo glanced up, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

Clearing your throat, your eyes met his. “I mean that for someone as popular as you are, you sure are quiet.”

A red glow warmed his features. “I wouldn’t say that I’m popular.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Ya sure about that? Because I’m pretty sure being a Quidditch Captain, Prefect, and a top-ranking student are all qualities of popular students.”

At your comment, he raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t know you paid so much attention to me, kitten,” he teased.

You glowered at the nickname. “Don’t call me kitten.”

“Ok….kitten.”

****

It became routine for you and Kuroo to meet at the library now. It was very rare that either of you missed a session. Your dark corner was brightened by his presence. Once the clock rang a certain hour, you were already moving the stacks of books to the side to make room for the rooster-head captain as he slunk in after Quidditch practice. He’d used to come directly after, only for you to yell at him to go to his dorm and shower, which would end up delaying him by twenty minutes. With that extra time, you’d sneak into the kitchen and snag some food for you both.

Your quill scratched the parchment as you took down more notes from the text. The wooden chair besides you creaked, but your eyes remained on the book. “Hello, Kuroo.” You flipped a page, scanning the text for more information.

“Hey kitten.” The soft thump of his bag falling onto the ground had you looking up.

“You look tired,” you noted, surveying his face. Eye-bags darkened his face, not helped by the shadows of the flickering flames. “Maybe you should sleep early today.”

Kuroo shook his head. “No, I really have to finish this paper.” He pulled out his Transfiguration book.

“Do you have patrol later?” You chewed on your bottom lip, brows furrowed. Kuroo nodded glumly. “Alright, skip it.”

“I can’t just skip patrol,” Kuroo laughed, sipping at the pumpkin juice that you’d smuggle in.

“You can if someone takes it for you.” You looked back down at your books. “I’ll do your patrol for you.”

Kuroo choked, coughing. “W-what?” Madam Pince threw him a disgusted look as she hmph’d at her desk. “You can’t do that.” You shrugged, leaning forward to ruffle his hair. Kuroo let out a soft yelp. “What was that for?”

You pulled back your hand, carefully examining the hair. “For the polyjuice potion.” A few months ago, you’d decided to try your hand at brewing polyjuice potion on a whim. You hadn’t had a chance to use it yet, so this was the perfect opportunity.

“What?!”

“Shh!” Madam Pince hissed, looking up over her books at you both. You folded the hair into a napkin, carefully tucking it into your robes.

Kuroo lowered his voice. “What do you mean polyjuice potion? Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Well it’s not exactly like I have a time-turner,” you rolled your eyes. “Nor am I a Metamorphmagus.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.” Kuroo surveyed you. For someone who was advertised as just another ‘big bad Slytherin’, you had such an incredibly soft side.

You shrugged, pushing a sandwich in his direction. “Eat up.” You took a bite out of your own sandwich.

As you pulled your hand back, a warm weight dropped onto it. You swallowed, looking up. “Thank you.” His eyes sparkled. “I really appreciate you.”

Averting your eyes, your cheeks glowed. You hoped that the candle-light would hide it. “Just take care of yourself, rooster-head.”

****

“I heard what happened.”

You glanced up, grimacing. During potions, you had been helping Nishinoya only for his potion to explode everywhere. Snape ended up assigning him detention for the next month as well as remedial classes three times a week. You really weren’t sure how Nishinoya had fucked up his Wit-raising potion. But you’d walked away laughing, with admittedly terrible burns. You’d ended up teasing the boy saying that he needed to drink your wit-raising potion before he was allowed to speak to you again.

“How are you doing?” Kuroo pressed.

You let the utensils slip out of your fingers as you displayed your heavily bandaged hands up. “Miserable.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. “Madam Pomfrey couldn’t help?” You shook your head, frowning. There was still a residual stinging in your fingers. “Scoot over.”

“What?”

“Only your hands are messed up, I’m sure you heard me just fine.” Kuroo waved his hands, forcing you aside. He took your seat, pulling your plate towards him.

“Kuroo, this is the Slytherin table, what the hell are you doing?” He shushed you, cutting up the meat on your plate. “Kuroo, I can take care of myself.”

He fixed you with a hard stare, pushing the plate towards you. “Prove it then.” You glared at him, as you picked up the fork and knife. Pain coursed through your fingers but you simply bit your tongue, not wanting him to win. You focused on keeping your face blank, breathing deeper than you wanted. With sluggish movements, you sawed through the meat. Hazel eyes surveyed you, flicking between your hands and your face.

“See?” You proclaimed, stabbing the meat and waving it in his face. He shrugged, holding his hands up.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” You glared at him, ice creeping through your heart. Eating it, you attempted to cut more meat only to drop the fork with a violent curse. It felt like someone had poured molten lava over your hands. Glaring at your fingers, you aggressively shoved the plate towards Kuroo who raised an eyebrow at you. “I thought you could do it yourself?”

“Help.”

“I didn’t quite hear that, kitten.”

You rolled your eyes at the pet-name. “Just help me, Kuroo.”

“I didn’t hear the magic word,” he teased, pulling the plate towards himself.

“Please,” you muttered, tears pricking at your eyes. Kuroo paused, taking a moment to pat you on the head.

“Of course, silly. I’m always here to help you.” You offered him a small smile, before whispers from the Ravenclaw table caught your attention.

“What’s Kuroo doing with her?”

“Doesn’t he know that she’s a cold-hearted bitch?”

“He’s gonna get his heart broken.”

“Bet you she’s going to curse him behind his back.”

“Or poison him.” They snickered.

More tears welled up in your eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, turning your face away from him.

The clinks of cutlery stopped. “Do what?”

“Help me.”

A hand grasped your chin, tilting your face up. He leaned forward, warm breath humming against your ear. “Keep your chin up, Princess, your crown is falling,” he whispered before he pulled back, brushing your hair aside. Scarlet roses bloomed in your cheeks. Cold Princess echoed in your mind. Kuroo cleared his throat, turning back to the plate, hiding his own pink flush. “Besides, you saved my ass the other week. This is the least that I can do for you.”

You chewed on your lip. Of course. He was returning a favor. Just a favor. Nothing more, nothing less.

****

“I won’t be here tomorrow.” You looked up from the Honeydukes chocolate that he had brought you, tilting your head. “I have to patrol early, so I won’t be able to make this.” He gestured to the table. Your tower of books had slowly diminished in size, only a small stack remained. In between your rolls of parchment and his own books was an abundance of candies. You’d miss the Hogsmeade trip earlier that day due to another remedial lesson with Lev. Kuroo leaned forward, wiping away a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

“Don’t do that.” You whipped your face away, hoping that the darkness would hide the crimson glow. You cleared your throat. “That’s fine. It’s not like you’re of any help, you always distract me.”

“So I guess I should take back all this candy then,” Kuroo teased, reaching for it. You snatched it up, pulling it close to your chest. Kuroo let out a disgustingly loud bark of laughter causing you to cringe. Madam Pince snarled in annoyance at you both.

“Keep laughing like that and I’ll use a Silencing charm on you,” you threatened, tucking the chocolates away into your bag.

Kuroo reclined in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. “You say that, but you know you like it.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, Kuroo.”

The next day, you couldn’t stop fidgeting. It was...too quiet. Of course, being in a library meant that it should be quiet. But you couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. The bell chimed, and like clock-work, you began shifting your books to the side. Mid-motion, you froze, eyebrows creasing as you frowned. Why were you moving your stuff? It’s not like anyone was joining you tonight. You cursed silently. Of course you’d gotten used to him. You vaguely remembered a Muggle psychology term: mere exposure effect. The more you became familiar with something or were exposed to it, the more you’d have a preference for it. You violently slammed the books back to where they were, earning another reprimand from Madam Pince. Studying by yourself just became excruciatingly difficult.

Meanwhile, Kuroo was absent-mindedly flying down the corridors. His long legs allowed him to stride down the halls in a dozen steps or so, forcing his partner to sprint in order to keep up. “Jesus, Kuroo, what’s got you in a hurry?” Bokuto, the Hufflepuff Prefect, puffed.

“Huh?” Kuroo paused, only to have Bokuto slam into his back. “Oh lord, I am so sorry Bokuto.”

The Hufflepuff winced, prying himself off of Kuroo’s back, rubbing his nose. “It’s fine.” Kuroo continued down the hall, slower this time. “What’s got you all distracted?” Kuroo shrugged, opening one of the classrooms and looking around. He shut the door with a sigh, before rushing down the hall once more, the slower pace already forgotten. Bokuto scurried after him. “Or should I say, who is on your mind?”

At this, Kuroo whirled around. “What do you mean?”

Bokuto bellowed with laughter. “I heard that you were talking to someone, but I didn’t know it was this serious.”

“Shut up.” The dark halls did nothing to save Kuroo as he stepped into a pool of moonlight.

“Aw, you’re blushing!” Bokuto cackled, bending over as his rambunctious laughter echoed in the halls.

“Shut up!”

Bokuto wiped a tear away from his eyes. “You really like this girl, don’t you?”

Kuroo huffed, blowing his hair up. “Maybe.”

The Hufflepuff clapped a hand over his back. “I’m rooting for ya.”

“I’ll need it,” Kuroo muttered. He pulled himself out of Bokuto’s grip. “C’mon, let’s just finish this patrol.”

****

“Alright, I’m off.” You waved to your housemates, picking up your books as you left the Great Hall.

“Make sure you come watch me play, sweetheart!” Atsumu shouted after you, waving eagerly. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. You rarely ever went to Quidditch matches, let alone to support someone. That’s something you’d reserve for romantic partners, not house-mates. The few times you’d gone were because Snape offered extra points to everyone who attended. You shook your head, taking a deep breath.

It was just any other Saturday morning and you would be headed back to your sanctuary: the library. A voice called out behind you, thundering footsteps following. You turned, stopping in the middle of the doorway. “Good morning, Kuroo.” You offered him a small smile that he returned.

“Hey (Name)!” He hugged you, pulling you into his chest; your heart pounded against your own. He’s never hugged you before. “Will you be going to the match later?” Kuroo released you and you took a few steps back.

Holding up the book, you shook your head hoping that he didn’t see your flushed face. “No, Professor Snape gave me this book so I was going to work on it.”

“Aw that’s too bad, I was really hoping you’d come cheer for me.” Kuroo grinned before he draped a blue and bronze scarf around your neck.

Your cheeks glowed like ripe apples, eyes wide. “Kuroo!” Your jaw dropped.

“See you there!” With a cheeky smile, he waved running back towards his friends.

An hour later, you found yourself walking down towards the Quidditch pitch. “Thought you didn’t go to Quidditch matches?” You crossed your arms, unamused. “And you’re wearing a Ravenclaw scarf? Talk about a traitor!” Osamu pinched your cheeks, tugging on it.

“Shut up, ‘Samu,” you scowled, shoving him away. “Are you finished yet?”

He shrugged. “Dunno why you even bothered to come.” He led you up the stands towards the Slytherin section. “Or why you’re sitting with us.”

“I’m a Slytherin!” You pouted, glaring at his back. Osamu just laughed.

“Yer still wearin’ a Ravenclaw scarf though. Don’t think I missed that display in the Great Hall.” He cackled as you slapped his back. “Didn’t know ya had a thing for the Captain.”

You cleared your throat as you guys arrived at your destination. You greeted your house-mates, settling besides Osamu. “Why aren’t you playing, ‘Samu?”

Osamu scowled, glaring at you. “Shaddup.” You chuckled, leaning back in your seat. Osamu was also on the team, but this year, the captain had decided to let more of the sixth and seventh years play. Atsumu was the only fifth-year on the team at the moment. You were grateful for the twins who had rapidly become your best friends since you’d started at Hogwarts. Both of them were ‘no-nonsense’ and didn’t care that you were plagued with nasty nicknames due to your ‘cold-hearted’ demeanor.

“Ooh, look they’re starting.” As the match goes on, you can’t help but let your eyes trail the Ravenclaw captain. To say the least, you were impressed. He radiated a different energy from what he normally did during your late-night study sessions in the library. During those, he just seemed goofy and studious. But here, you could see the whole other side to him. The way he communicated with his team-mates, how happy he looked everytime one of their plays worked out, the satisfaction that seemed to completely fill him after he scored. He simply exuded a different type of confidence that you’ve never seen from him before. Your eyes widened with awe as he shuffled between the other Chasers, throwing the Quaffle to each other and thoroughly confusing the Slytherin chasers. As Kuroo scored, you couldn’t help the, “Whoooo, go Kuroo!” that escaped your lips.

Osamu jabbed you in the side, muttering, “traitor” but even that couldn’t wipe away the smile from your face. You were never interested in Quidditch, but maybe now you had a reason to be.

The game quickly ended with Kenma snagging the Snitch out from Oikawa’s nose, leading to Atsumu flying towards the stands where you and Osamu were sitting. “Hey, ya made it sweetcheeks!” Atsumu cheered, hovering above your head in front of you.

You cleared your throat. “Nice job out there, ‘Tsumu.”

“I know right? I was definitely the star, wasn’t I?” He grinned.

You pulled your cloak closer; it was getting late and cold. You desperately wanted to be back in the castle already. “If you were the real star, you would’ve won,” you shrugged. Osamu chuckled besides you as Atsumu squawked indignantly.

“Oi, Atsumu!” Oikawa called, flying over. “C’mon, hit the showers. You can try to impress your girl later.” Oikawa patted your head, “hey there, (Name).”

“Hey Oikawa.” You offered him a small smile. “Sorry about the game. You did great out there though.”

“Thank you~!” He sang, flying lower so that he could pull you into a hug. You yelped at the sudden intrusion. “Lemme just have this moment of comfort,” he whined as you clawed at his arms in an attempt to struggle out of his grip. Defeated, you let the captain hang onto you, awkwardly patting his back.

“You guys reek,” you muttered, looking away from the pair. “Go shower.”

Finally escaping from the clingy twins and Oikawa, you let out a sigh of relief. You tugged your bag higher onto your shoulder as you made your way down the familiar path. Just as you were about to enter the library, a familiar voice called after you. Turning, your eyes widened. “Kuroo?”

He slowed to a stop in front of you, winded slightly before he offered you a wide cheeky grin. “Hey there Princess!”

“What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be celebrating with your team?”

He shrugged, “I had to see my girl first.”

Heat crawled up through your body. You cleared your throat. “Your girl?”

“Well yeah! Especially after how loudly you were cheering for me,” he teased.

“And it’s Kuroo Tetsurou with the quaffle after a successful Sabryn steal from Miya Atsumu. He passes it to Sugawara Koushi, who passes it right back over Iwaizumi Hajime’s head. And Kuroo scores! Right through Matsukawa Issei’s finger-tips!”

Kuroo did a loop, whooping before he soared beside Suga, giving the male a high-five. Mattsun grabbed the quaffle, putting it back into play. Kuroo smirked, darting off towards Atsumu who had the quaffle. They end up on the Ravenclaw side, with Iwaizumi attempting to score. Yaku successfully receives the ball, throwing it at Kuroo. “You’re playing better than ever today, Kuroo,” Yaku grins. “Better keep on impressing your girlfriend.” Kuroo scowled at the keeper. He hadn’t even seen you in the audience, who was to say that you were there at all?

Kuroo rolled his eyes, glancing over at Suga and Akaashi. Giving the males a curt nod, they enter the Hawkshead Attacking Formation. “Another Thimblerig Shuffle by the Ravenclaws! The Quaffle is bouncing around. Akaashi. Kuroo. Suga. Akaashi. Kuroo. And Kuroo takes the quaffle and scores once again! Slytherin does not look happy folks.” Loud cheers fill the stadium from the Ravenclaw, but as Kuroo flies back around the field, a lone cheer from the Slytherin section catches his attention. His head whips around, eyes widening at the sight. There you were, bundled up in his Ravenclaw scarf and actually cheering for him. Emotions flood his body, he hadn’t expected you to actually come or to actually wear his scarf. He couldn’t help the grin that slipped onto his face. Kuroo let out another loud whoop, before doing a heart-shaped loop in the air. A Bludger zoomed past him, drawing his attention back to the game. He’d have to deal with his emotions later. He had a game to win, and a girl to impress after all.

You choked on air, averting your eyes. “Yeah well, you looked cool.”

Kuroo grinned, “thanks kitten.”

You stared down at your book, fingers tracing the binding. “Anyways, your girl? I didn’t know you were serious.”

It was his turn to avoid your eyes. “I mean! You were wearing my scarf,” he stammered.

“You gave it to me,” you fired back, amusement flickering in your eyes as you observed him. Kuroo turns completely red at this, kicking at the stone floors awkwardly. You clear your throat, eyes softening. “Take me to Hogsmeade next weekend and we’ll talk about our relationship status then.”

Relief floods his system as he eagerly nods. “I can make that happen.”

“Well good.” You smile, heading into the library only for Kuroo to follow you. “Again, don’t you have a party to get to?”

He shrugged, “rather spend time with you to be honest.”

“Don’t let your team-mates hear you,” you grin as you guys make your way to your usual table. Kuroo just ruffled your hair, smiling as you both took a seat. After an hour or so of studying, you snapped your book shut. “Actually, let’s do something.”

He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow. “Like what?”

You shrugged. “Find Hogwarts’ mysteries?”

Kuroo leaned back in his chair, a sly smile making its way onto his face. “Y’know, I hear there are some cursed chambers hidden in Hogwarts.”

“Breaking curses, treasure hunting? Sounds like my kind of date,” you smirk, packing your stuff away. Kuroo throws his head back in a boisterous laugh, only to be scolded by Madam Pince. You stood up, standing beside him before making your way out. “Y’know, you could have easily been a Slytherin,” you teased, bumping your hip into his as you held the textbooks to your chest.

He smirked, slinging his arm over your shoulder as you both walked out of the library. “Why’s that?”

“You have more ambition than I do.” You shrugged his arm off of your shoulder. “You leave the library just as late as I do after coming here after your Quidditch practices and then heading straight to your Prefect duties. Hard-work goes hand-in-hand with ambition, Kuroo.” He plucked one of the books out of your hand. “Hey!”

“Well, Little Miss Slytherin, you could definitely have been a Ravenclaw.” Kuroo held the book over your head, flicking through the pages. “Your thirst for knowledge is never quite quenched.”

You flush. “Well, a quest for knowledge is an ambitious one, isn’t it?”

He hummed, pulling the rest of your books out of your hands while ignoring your cries of protest. He tucks them into his right side, slipping his left hand into yours. “I guess us together makes the perfect Slytherin and Ravenclaw, doesn’t it?” Kuroo squeezed your hand, looking down at you. You grinned, giving him a light squeeze. Being together just felt right. He brought out your inner Ravenclaw, and you brought out his inner Slytherin. Knowledge and ambition went hand-in-hand, just like you and Kuroo.

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hhoriginalworks · 3 years

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invisible string | g.w

The concept of soulmates and true love had always perplexed you, especially as someone whose parents talked about love like it was the loch ness monster. Your parents were two lit matches when you were growing up and the leaking gas surrounding them was their marriage. Even at seven, you weren't surprised when your mother disappeared in the night, leaving you brokenhearted and determined to not return to your daydreams about a prince sweeping you off your feet. You were truly the world's youngest pessimist, turning your nose up at the girls chasing boys for a kiss and keeping away from the rowdy boys kicking a football around the park.

Many would think such a bitter young child, kicking rocks into lakes and getting nauseous from fairytales, would want someone realistic to hang around. You agreed, thinking that you'd want someone just as angry at the world to stand in the kilometer-wide fields of wildflowers and scream with you. Then faith played a cruel, unusual card that tossed you into the path of George Weasley.

George Weasley had just turned ten when the two of you crossed paths, his legs were carrying as far away from his mum, who was yelling at him and Fred from turning Ron's teddy into a spider... again. He supposed it was his fault when he absolutely plowed into you, a nine-year-old reading on the dry ground, but, you weren't exactly nice enough for him to admit that.

"You absolute idiot, dear God, you nearly knock my damn teeth out," you shouted, brushing off the kicked-up dirt from your clothes.

George stared at you, his eyes wide as the words left your mouth- he rarely heard his parents curse, much less a little girl. In his defense, the only little girl he was around much was Ginny, and while she had a foul temper it rarely involved cursing.

"Well? Aren't you going to apologize?" You looked at him impatiently, maintaining contact with his brown eyes. He was an odd-looking boy, tall and lanky, while also drowned in ragged clothes that looked more like a cloak. "Well? Dear Lord, I don't have time for this."

It didn't take long for George to find his words, somewhat less stunned and, perhaps at that moment, purely intrigued. "Oi, wait up," George shouted, taking the few strides it took to end up beside you.

"Oh, how marvelous- you talk," you deadpanned, mimicking a tone that your father frequently used with you when you said something unintelligible. "Quit following me, Red."

"Red?"

"Well, I have to call you something, don't I?" You were halfway home at this point, and you weren't particularly fond of being home so soon or letting the boy know where you lived. You dug your heels in the dry ground, stopping so abruptly George was nearly two steps past you when he noticed.

"It's George- George Weasley," the redhead greeted, sticking out this pale freckled hand as he'd seen many adults do. You reminded him of an adult, and he frankly, couldn't help but want to make a good impression (well, good second impression). "I live at The Burrow- the slightly leaning building with the large garden."

You stared at the boy, dirt smudged on his nose and an odd shine in his eye. You knew the exact building he was talking about- your father frequently talked about how much of a monstrosity it was and how it brought down market value. Secretly, you thought it looked like something out of Alice in Wonderland, but you never mentioned it.

"Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N, but you hardly need to know my name," you replied cooly, an involuntary shiver running down as you realized you sounded just like your dad. "I should get home, and so should you to the, er, Burrow."

"Why? It is a Thursday, and it is hardly nine."

"School- my dad doesn't let me stay out this late on a school day," you shrugged, pushing through the knee-high foliage and towards your modest home. "Goodbye, Goerge."

"Goodbye, y/n/n," George shouted back, turning back to his own house deciding that he couldn't keep following you all night. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

His question was left unanswered, but the next evening, he found you sitting in the same spot as the night before with a different book and what looked to be a small smile.

Life seemed to get easier from that moment on- a sort of routine springing from the odd encounter. At a certain point, you almost forgot that he didn't seem to be quite normal, and at a certain point, he almost forgot that you were quite normal.

"You have to let me meet your mum and dad," George pleaded, following faithfully behind you as you collected flowers you planned on pressing and drying out. "I'll let you meet my mum and dad, but I'd have to warn you that dad gets a bit mad when muggles visit."

You stopped in your tracks, turning towards the redhead, who frequently let odd vocabulary slip around you. "Is that some sort of code? What in the world is a muggle?"

"Nothing, but now that I think about it, we should just go to your house," George quickly corrected, handing you the bunches of flowers he was holding for you. "Now would be nice- I have to use the loo."

You picked the petals off one of the wildflowers, silently deciding he could come into your house just to use the loo. "My mum isn't home," you began slowly, watching the redhead light up. "Hey! Don't get all grinning- you are only going in to use the loo. Come on, Red, we haven't got all day."

The two of you hiked in silence, the heat of summer beating down on the two of you. It didn't take long to arrive at your house, a small building that was considerably less eccentric than The Burrow. "Take off your shoes before you enter the house," you whispered to the redhead, slowly opening the creaky front door and guiding George inside.

George didn't have any expectations, except maybe someone homely and vibrant like his own home. Your home, however, was alien compared to The Burrow. The walls were painted white as if they were to remain completely sterile, and the furniture looks as though it were incased in some invisible plastic. "Where's your room?" George asked, unable to help himself from wondering if the entire house was this way.

"Nice try, Red," you hummed, tossing the flowers in a small box near what you considered to be your side of the couch. "Loo is to the right with the white door."

George walked down the halls, his eyes focusing on all the small details of the house. Frankly, there weren't many- a few family pictures of a man and your familiar face, but never a mum. George kept quiet, questions piling up before reaching for the doorknob of one of the many white doors. By the time he had slipped in, he realized it most certainly wasn't the loo.

"Did you find- oh, you went to the left," you spoke softly, your words fading as you joined the redhead in your room.

"It's nice," George commented earnestly, running his pale fingers along the edge of your posters. George meant it, enjoyed the seemingly human-ness of your room compared to the rest of your house.

Your bed was pushed to the end of the room just under the window, and your walls were painted in a bright yellow. It looked completely normal and youthful, but George still felt something was off. "I thought you said your mum just wasn't mum- she doesn't even look like she exists."

You messed with the end of your shirt before silently walking over to your mirror, pulling out a few small polaroids from the small space where the wall and mirror didn't touch. "She isn't home- she's in London with her boss and his kids. She's a researcher for a pharmaceutical company," you handed the prized possession to George, who was as quiet as when you first met him.

"She looks like you," George said simply, setting them back behind the mirror.

"Yeah, she does," you replied, a sense of solidarity forming between the two of you. "Here, we can play some board games."

There was something untouchable about your friendship with George, even as the boy seemed to mysteriously leave you without much warning and no communication. You didn't blame him though, knowing that older boys rarely wanted to hang out with childish girls- something your father reminded you when you told him about your friendship with George. George certainly didn't blame you because frankly there was bound to be the distance between you when a whole world you didn't know about sat between the two of you.

By the time, George left for Hogwarts the second time, you no longer felt like something was keeping you in England. Your protests about your father taking a promotion in France slowly stopped until you were clearing out boxes and moving on with your life. The two of you rarely talked at this point, yet, when you got a letter inviting you to some school for witches and wizards in France, he was the first person you thought of.

You didn't write to him though- not because you weren't sure how a letter addressed to The Burrow would arrive at its intended destination, but because you've seen what secrets can do to a relationship. You kept to yourself about it, letting go of George and attempting to embrace the world that now kept the two of you apart.

"Delphine, you honestly believed that Bulgaria would win? Ha- I laugh at you," you giggled, wrapping an arm loosely around your Ombrelune housemate at Beauxbaton. "Very poor judgment, my love."

The blonde shook her head at you, nudging your shoulder gently and pointing towards a group of celebrating Irish. "Why don't you go over there, you Brit," Delphine teased. "Honestly, y/n, in France your accent is hardly noticeable, but the minute we take a portkey over here you're incomprehensible."

"It's the Devon accent, m'love," you grinned, jumping as the sound of an explosion boomed behind you. "Delphine, something is happening- look over there."

Something was happening- the cheerful noise of celebration quickly turned to screams of terror. Delphine held you closely, mumbling senseless French into your ear as the two of you attempted to navigate the crowd.

"Targeting muggleborns and muggles," a nearby voice shouted, eliciting more panic from the crowd and you.

"Delphine, you need to head somewhere else- to the forest," you shouted, pushing away the blonde. "You can't be near me if they somehow find out that I'm-I'm-"

"No- I don't leave your side," you blonde interrupted, holding tighter onto your arm as her petite frame pushed against the crowd.

You nodded your head, the two of your holding onto each other as the sea of fear and chaos stirred around you. Your feet were nearly brushing the edge of the forest when you saw it, a familiar grouping mop of red hair and brown eyes. You felt yourself slip away from the fear and reality of the nightmare you were living as you ran towards the slowly disappearing boy.

"Y/N? Where are you?" Delphine screeched, quickly finding your arms again and pulling you back toward the wooded coverage. "You can't just run off- come on, let's find my Papa."

You nodded your head, your eyes still pinned on where you swore you saw the boy that spent hours with you in the Devon fields of wildflowers. Delphine repeated your name tugging on your arm relentlessly until you were finally compliant and focused back on the present.

The horrors of that night quickly reminded you of your place in the wizarding world, sparking anger that reminded you of how you felt as a child. Anger for finding a place that finally made you let go of your bitterness towards the world, only to find a new bitterness. A bitterness that revolved around the two worlds that you were equally torn between, both filled with people that mattered to you. It drove you partially to madness, but mostly to the notion that you wanted peace in at least one of your worlds.

That night sparked more than anger, and it showed in the work you began to put out at Beauxbaton. You refused the trip to Hogwarts for a Triwizard Tournament, instead choosing to spend hours studying for your exams. You spent nights hunched over a desk, learning how to get where you wanted to make the changes that you wanted to see in the Wizarding World. You sacrificed going back to your childhood home with your dad, and in the end, your chooses landed you a spot in the French Ministry.

"Fleur, I'm doing what I can to get you some people from the French Ministry to help, but frankly, most don't see this as their fight," you argued back, resting your head against your arms. "I know that you're keeping safe in that cottage until you're needed, but it would help if you could reach out to some alumni. The minister doesn't want government workers getting involved and they're hesitant to go against his indirect orders."

"We need you to win, love. Delphine died for this cause, and I know that many know many others. I have to go, but please, help us," Fleur whispered back, using the muggle cellphone you gave her. Perhaps it put you at risk, but with your very public stances for better muggle-magical relations, you were hardly concerned about that. "Goodbye, and I'll let you know when things worsen."

You hung up the phone, the familiar aching of your head returning and you drafted your speech to help get the British ministry back where they needed. "How did it get this far?" You asked yourself, holding the quill to the tan parchment. Your eyes were weighted down with dark bags, and your hand was heavy from hundreds of writings that were turned down the moment you mentioned war.

You set down the parchment, your eyes scanning your messy desk until they landed on two small polaroids- one with your mum and one with George. The two of you were so young, and now at nineteen with blood on your choices and ministry desk, you craved innocence. You craved the way that George made you forget the worst parts of life- you craved your youth.

You remember Fleur's call like a nightmare, her voice high and desperate for you. You always wanted to go back to England, to your home, but not like this. Not with your hands shaking as you attempted to tell your dad goodbye, and not you sending a letter saying 'I love you' to your mum. You arrived at Hogwarts with tears in your eyes as you walked into the battlefield that had children already lying dead before you. You arrived at Hogwarts with a wild, unkept fury that you'd been holding deep within as a kid.

"Stupefy." The words left your mouth just as easy as any bout of laughter. The world came crashing down with each cut, curse, and scream from yourself and the children that fought around you.

Then, it ended. The fight was over, and the blanket of grief replaced the anger. The loss of innocence settled in between you, a nineteen-year-old cradling the fourth-year who fell at the last minute, and the others around you. There, at that moment, everything you felt dissipated leaving you with nothing but loneliness.

"You were so good," Fleur mumbled, holding your face as someone lifted the child out of your lap. "So good. You did so great, m'love."

Fleur continued to whisper French nothings into your ear as you sob over some child you didn't know. As you sob over the lives lost, and the feeling that you could've done so much more. "I can't go back to the ministry," you sniffled, rubbing the tears off your cheeks. "I begged for their best duelers, and they said they couldn't provide it because they could die. How- how can I go back to a government like that."

"Shush, come back here with Bill and me. Bill's father works in the ministry, and we can find you someplace," Fleur cooed, lifting you off the ground. "Let's go find Bill."

The two of you trudged through the ruins, past the families that were mourning, and into the great hall where everyone was together. Delphine talked about how everyone at Hogwarts was separated from each other, but you would've never known. People were all together crying, hugging, and what you assumed to be contemplating.

You sat down at the nearest table, your knees crying for rest and your body begging to sleep. "Thank you," you mumbled to no one in particular- perhaps, even the fate that once brought you and George together. You never really believe in luck or fate, but here, in the moment, it felt fitting.

"Y/N?" You turned around slowly, your mind working faster than your body. "It's you- you're here."

George Weasley. In all of his glory and grief, the redhead stood before you, radiating the feeling of home. He looked nearly the same, minus his one ear slightly uneven with the other, and a weak look of disbelief on his face.

"Quit following me, Red," you breathed, jumping from the bench and wrapping your arms around him.

"What-what are you doing here," George mumbled into your head, his arms squeezing you as if he didn't believe you were entirely real.

"You didn't think you could be all magical without your best friend- I got my letter to Beauxbaton a day after I moved to France," you explained, pulling away from the lanky redhead. "I wanted to tell you, but I-I thought you were a pas de magie. A-a, what's the word you used to call me?"

"A muggle? You thought that I was a muggle? I used to make you show me how to use a can opener for entertainment," George chuckled in disbelief.

You looked down at your shoes, slightly embarrassed you never connected the dots. "I just thought you were the homeschooled type," you replied half-heartedly. You looked around quicking sobering up from the high of seeing George. "Did-did you lose anyone?"

George looked at you, a tight smile on his lips. "No- Fred, you remember my twin, right? He, um, is getting taken to St. Mungo's, and they are talking amputation of his right leg. He'll-he'll be okay."

You nodded your head, wiping away a tear that fell down George's cheek. "We'll be okay, George."

The aftermath of the war resonated with the wizarding world- you saw it first-hand in England after you moved back home. You supposed that it was a process of healing, knowing that you had to go through it yourself. Your heart aches for the families, for the Weasleys, who watched Fred have to go through relearning how to live his life.

The war brought so much darkness that stained the lives of many, creating nightmares that still crept into everyday life. The war also brought you back home- back to George, who suddenly found himself ten years old again and madly in love.

"You can stay here longer," George protested, grabbing the Daily Prophet from you. You had been searching for a place that wasn't George and Fred's flat for much longer than you cared to admit. It should've been an easy task, but there always seemed to be something missing.

"I can't mooch off of you two forever," you hummed in response, grabbing a piece of toast from the table. "It's bad enough that I haven't decided whether or not to take that position in the ministry."

"Boring," Fred sang from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. "Just work for us- you're doing a brilliant job helping us with keeping the books. We'll hire you on full time."

You shook your head at the redheads, who looked at you with identical begging looks. "I want to do something I love, and while I love you guys, I don't love your business half as much as you do. I was thinking I would get a better offer from the ministry than basically a glorified paper-pusher. No matter- I guess I could open up a magical firm, and practice some magical law."

"Boring," George teased, knocking knees with you under the table.

"What what do you find fun?" You questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

"Having you live with me," George answered immediately, his face turning red as Fred not-so-subtly coughed out, 'whipped.'

"I like living with you, too, George," you whispered, placing a hand on top of his. "I mean it- coming back here to be with you makes me feel like I'm nine years old again."

Fred shook his head at the two of you, an obvious smile painted on his lips and he left to open the shop. Fred had put up with a lot since the Battle of Hogwarts, but the worst thing was seeing his brother so helplessly in love with someone who felt the same way.

"I meant what I said about you staying longer, or even forever. Think about it, y/n," George said, turning towards you. "You think everything is wrong with those flats you've looked at. Don't you think that deep down you just want to stay here- stay with me, and, er, Fred."

You shook her head, the familiar warm feeling you got from George settling in your chest. "I-I don't know," you admitted, wringing your hands. "I just don't want to-to get attached."

"What's so wrong with getting attached," George mumbled, grabbing your hands and gently holding them. "Y/N, I am so attached to you, and I have been since the moment I ran into you. Just stay, and- and, we'll figure out a way to make this work."

"You can't make two people work out," you chuckled, sliding your hands out of George's and getting up. George mirrored your actions and stepped closer to you, reminding you of the way he used to follow you around as a kid. "My mum and dad tried-"

"No, they didn't and you know that."

"George, they-"

"We're not them," George stated adamantly. "We're not them because somehow through all of this confusion, all of this fighting, all of this hate and anger- we found each other again. There's an invisible string tying us together, and that's how I know we're not them."

"I don't believe in soulmates," you mumbled, suddenly aware of how close George was.

"You used to not believe in magic," George replied nonchalantly, using his index finger to raise your chin. "You used to not believe in dragons, in flying, in teleportation. Most of all, you used to not believe in having a best friend, but I changed your mind about that. Y/N, let me change your mind about soulmates."

You closed your eyes as George pressed his lips against yours, evoking a feeling that couldn't be put into worlds. It felt like collecting flowers with him, dancing with Delphine, and winning the war. It felt like coming home after years of running, but it mostly, felt like George Weasley loving you infinitely.

"Not soulmates," you corrected, pulling away slowly and out of breath. "An invisible string."

#holyhead-hufflepuff archive

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sambinnie · 3 years

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1. Happy Mabon! Every autumn, I forget that the darkness comes clanging down in a great rush in the mornings. One day, I am greeted by a pinking sunrise. 48 hours later, it’s so dark on my run to the river that I have to stop a passing runner and check the time, in case my disturbed sleep sent me dressing and leaving the house at 2am. This summer may not have given us those mornings where it’s so hot I can barely get out of the water, where those early hours feel like full silent days carved out just for me to sit in the light and wait for everyone else to wake up, where the only extra thing I put on to run home is my trainers — I look at my waiting winter gear, neoprene socks and gloves, head torch, two more thickening jumpers, hat, thermal mittens — but every season, every day, is beautiful.

Today we go early for celebrations, and the water is silky, and Orion hangs over us with his phallic sword dangling and Betelgeuse winking on one shoulder. The near-full moon spotlights us and I feel almost ready for the shortening days.

2. Hilary Mantel continues to be a literary god. How does she write with that clarity? How can I ever speak with her calm good sense and wit?

3. We have two main problems at the moment, as far as I can see. a) What we’re doing (“curating” our lives; twitter spats; purity spirals; division and isolation; wanting ‘debates’ that can only be won or lost; encouraging people to buy more things; trying to buy our happiness; letting marketers tell us how we feel about the world rather than encouraging major moral lessons from throughout the ages to challenge us on our weaknesses; refusing to accept that life is suffering; asking self-care to be a plaster for everything we don’t have) and b) what we’re not doing (joining together to stand against those with more money and power; protecting the people who have even less power and voice than we do as a matter of course; learning from history; protecting nature above all else; prioritising going for walks; learning to repair things and campaigning to make things repairable; having a basic belief in human dignity for all, not just those with whom we agree; accepting that truly, we are all different and no amount of shaming or disgust will change that; working to shape our societies, culture, economies, production, food supplies and communications around improving — not just sustaining — the air, water and land, and fighting to ensure all of those new shapes protect women and children).

Individualism has morphed into something so completely self-destructive that we’ve forgotten we need nature more than anything — literally, more than anything — and we need to unionise and unite and put aside differences and work together even with people we don’t like.

Because when there are wicked people in power, when it’s genuinely exhausting to think about all the corrupt, venal, toxic, divisive, false, and cruel things they have done since coming to power, those people love to watch everyone below pointing their fingers at one another, saying, You, You’re The Enemy, You’re The Problem, while corrupt populist leaders rub their bellies and chuckle at another promise broken, another mass death on their hands, another building site on a protected forest. Do you understand the stakes here? Do you understand that it’s actual survival? It’s not about being right any more, it’s not about besting someone in the argument. It’s about having decision makers who can not only ensure there is still food to eat and air to breathe, but that relations both within a country and between countries are built on care, and support, and compassion, and believing in human dignity. And while it sounds wishy-washy and hands-clappy it’s the schmaltzy, sentimental truth. It’s the only one, really.

If we instead continue to believe every single day that my feelings are the most important, that my beliefs are the right ones, that I’ve got to prove those baddies there are evil and awful and wrong, then honestly, what the fuck? If we’re happy to live in a country where hostile architecture is the starting point for all public builds, where we send refugee boats away from our shores, where affiliate links are a career goal, where we haven’t stormed the Daily Mail offices with accounts of all our lovely immigrant friends and family and had a huge feast together and compared our long and tangled family trees, then come on. It’s only a race to the bottom if we all keep running.

Because, pressingly, whatever the spark of a major global conflict — assassination, fuel shortages, hyperinflation, invasion — the kindling is almost always a populace fed pure hatred for months, for years, until they can’t even taste it anymore but are ready to spew it out again, and are ready to use another populace as the receptacle. And hatred is brewed up in silence and isolation, and in the ashes of bridges burned between disparate groups.

And on that note, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, mainly because I don’t believe governments are generally competent enough to manage Grand Plans, but it’s annoying that technology and social trends and culture have developed in such a way that no one knocks on anyone’s door for a chat as a matter of course now, that it’s a given that a ringing phone triggers anxiety, that it’s not the norm for cups of tea with your neighbours, that we don’t know each other’s neighbourhoods, that we don’t even talk on the phone, with live words and intonation and synchronised laughter, but in text, in WhatsApp chats, in tapped out words and symbols that we know can be screen-grabbed and misinterpreted, that we know are kept, filtered and sold by the tech companies. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s just a reality that every single one of us can choose to do differently.

Sometimes exactly the right thing comes along at the right time. All of us here watched About a Boy at the weekend, a film which is so wonkily weighted and oddly rhythmed, but a perfect depiction of everything I’m banging on about here. Hugh Grant’s character likes being alone. He’s happy that way. It suits him. It’s his choice. Then, between one thing and another, he finds himself drawn into a world of a suicidal single mother, a duck-murdering young boy, more single mothers, more tricky teens, plus exes and mothers-in-law and awkward support groups. And it turns out that actually, being with people is better. Being uncomfortable often develops you as a person. Constantly prioritising only yourself produces a waxen, pointless baby. Making shared sacrifices might just be the point of being alive. Remember that to be human is to be flawed. That no one is ever completely right, and no one is ever completely wrong. That the boring stuff makes us feel good, and the glossy stuff, if all we strive for is gloss, doesn’t.

If you want anything practical, here are the things that have really helped me over the last few years:

Writing a letter or email regularly to my MP, to CEOs of organisations, to anyone I want to communicate my strong feelings and how I’d like things to be done better. Tweeting eats your soul. It’s a horrible myth the media pretends is important. It really, really isn’t.

Inviting people to go in front of me in queues, in traffic, getting on to buses and trains. It lowers my stress levels right down.

Learning the names of my neighbours and people I meet regularly on walks and letting them learn mine. (I definitely haven’t just decided I loathe a neighbour because they cut a bird-hatching tree down in their garden on the last day of the year it was legal to do so. It’s fine.)

Joining a few political parties, and the closest thing I have to a union

Making something, anything — everything can be done with love, and learning to not get sucked into the capitalist conceit of having to make it perfect, sellable, exhibitable is a genuine gift to yourself; making a cake or a film or a coaster and not putting it on social media, letting it be ugly or serviceless and loving it anyway. I felt extremely overwhelmed the other evening, but instead of doom-scrolling I knitted a… I don’t know, something flat and woollen, and it helped to have my hands and eyes working on directionless introspective creation.

Trying to stop hating. Every time I want to tell a negative story in my head about someone, I attempt to turn it into something positive: how unhappy that person must be, what they must be missing out on. It’s so nauseatingly Pollyanna-ish, and of course it isn’t always successful, and of course every single day brings a hundred thousand examples of cruelty and injustice and wickedness, but the alternative only makes my life feel worse, so why would I indulge that?

Teaching myself the names of birds, trees, flowers, clouds and constellations. I’m still at the most basic levels on all of these, but the difference one feels in the world when you can name things — let alone use them and know their stories — is a very real sort of magic. (For that reason I hope to read this book very soon.) This episode of The Cut is also good on the wonder and power of learning the names of the weeds that grow in your nearest pavement crack.

4. Creating anything is always a gamble, isn’t it, but writing a book you actually like for once and seeing it slowly and beautifully sink to the bottom of a river never to be seen again is ever so slightly crushing. However, it turns out even Thom Yorke feels that way, so I am comforted.

5. I’m sure I’ve mentioned plenty of these before, but if you want some suggestions of where to find joy, here are my favourites from the last year or so:

I was given Lucy Easthope’s book, When the Dust Settles, for work recently, and I was surprised and delighted to discover the most uplifting, hopeful, human and rightfully angry book I’ve read in a long time. Do yourself a favour and preorder it. I bought this other book for my own birthday, gave it to a housemate to give to me, forgot about it, and was delighted to later unwrap He Used Thought As A Wife. Laughed a lot, cried twice. Marvellous.

Now even the youngest housemate here can recite John Finnemore sketches and sing the songs. Has also taught them various composers, gods, logical fallacies and gothic story tropes. Also v funny. Oh, Kate Beaton! Her two books (Hark! A Vagrant and Step Aside Pops) are a bit like a comic-book version of Finnemore, but swearier and sexier and utterly unsuitable for all the housemates who have read it and been educated about the Brontes, Katherine Sui Fun Cheung, Tom Longboat, Nancy Drew, Ida B. Wells, Sacagawea, and the Borgias.

Had to give Inside a restraining order against me for the sake of us all, but Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade is a masterpiece of writing, acting, sound design and optimism. Spy is dumb action comedy polished to perfection, and Yasujirō Ozu’s Good Morning seems like the inspiration for almost all US arthouse films since 1990, and is also beautiful, funny, thoughtful, and good.

Taylor Swift’s Evermore, like all brilliant albums, isn’t completely perfect. But most of the songs are. And Hole’s classic Live Through This is still just ideal for turning up very, very loud after a tricky day, for the enjoyment of any neighbours who may have hacked down a bird-friendly tree on the last day of February.

Watched both series of Liam Williams’ Ladhood when I had a week off this summer, and really relished the location, the intention, and the writing. More please.

Miles Jupp and Justin Edwards continue to be my comforting bedtime listening in In and Out of the Kitchen. Has it ruined Nigel Slater for me? Well, a bit, but no more than any of us deserved.

I thought this would be a book I’d mumble through the first chapter of, then let get buried in my To Read pile, never to re-open. Instead, I found Whatever Happened to Margo? laugh-out-loud funny, drily written, and full of humanity. Excellent Women has made me want to read everything written by Barbara Pym, a goal I am slowly but surely working towards.

6. I’ve spent the last few years trying to find hazelnut trees, and finally found a copse between a car park and a play area, full of nuts the squirrels hadn’t noticed. Now I’ve found them, the spell has been cast and I see hazel trees everywhere, on walks and on pavements and running along motorway slip roads. A tray of green and brown frilled hazelnuts now dries with the laundry. They are so beautiful.

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rocket-remmy · 3 years

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Giving Thanks || Nora and Remmy

TIMING: Thanksgiving Day PARTIES: @fearfordinner and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: Remmy cooks a full meal on Thanksgiving and Nora finally wanders down from the attic to partake. They decide the mansion should be a place of belonging.

The attic was dusty. Dusty from months of neglect. Nora had been content to allow her body to be covered by that dust by not getting out of bed. However Morgan had asked if she was doing anything with Remmy. Guilt had washed over Nora. She couldn’t ignore her friend family because she thought she had found a bio family. It was dumb to be upset about something that was never real anyway. So Nora slunk down the stairs into the kitchen. The kitchen smelled delightful. Food was splayed everywhere in a mouth watering set. “Wow.” Nora said slowly. “Someone’s been busy.”

Cooking was calming, and today was a day made for cooking. Stuffing and mashed potatoes and yams. And green beans and bread and a whole fucking turkey. Remmy had it all. They even cut up cheese and pulled out some crackers and set them on the counter as if preparing for a whole foray of guests. But there was no one. It was just them, and Nora laying sadly in the attic and the ghosts wandering around aimlessly for another lost holiday. The oven was just beeping when they heard someone behind them. “Oh, hey…” they said, rubbing the back of their head, “yeah, I...I just wanted to do something, I guess. Um...are you hungry?”

“Are we having guests?” Nora had never asked her housemates to tell her when someone was coming over. It was a big house, and everyone was welcome. She scooted into one of the stools in front of the kitchen. “It smells great, Remmy.” Nora, never the person for manners, ripped a leg off the turkey and took a bite. A person with more manners and self awareness might have stopped to ask if that was an appropriate way to behave in front of someone's food. Nora was not that person. “Did… you make yourself something?”

Remmy watched Nora sit and start eating and gave a small sigh of relief. They set down the last of the yams and pulled off the oven mits, taking a seat across from her. “No,” they answered quietly, poking at the yams. “I just...didn’t feel right not making something.” Not being with family. They wondered what Morgan was doing, who Blanche might be hanging out with, if Luce, Nell and Bea were having a big dinner. They loved Nora, but looking around at the big, empty, kitchen, they felt a longing that couldn’t be filled. “No, but it’s-- fine. I ate yesterday.” Or maybe the day before. Either way, their stomach did not grumble. Moose sat at their feet and whined and they carved a chunk of turkey off and fed it to him. “Did your family have big dinners for Thanksgiving?” they asked after a moment.

“My dads were the feasting kind.” Nora answered, her mouth full of turkey as she answered. “Their families, they didn’t like it when they came out. You know. Hetero shit.” Nora swallowed taking another bite before continuing. “So they held a feast for all their rich and successful friends. I never went. I kept getting in trouble for scaring them.” Nora was invited to go. She was a big hit at the halloween feast, but her dads were very proud of their feast and everything they did there. Nora hadn’t wanted to ruin that for them when she was old enough to understand it. “No this year. They’re in europe. No thanksgiving there. Did your family have thanksgiving?” Nora came to the realization that she knew absolutely nothing about their family.

“Oh,” Remmy said, listening to Nora explain her family’s celebrations. “Hetero shit, yeah…” they could relate to that. They hadn’t known it really, back then, but they could relate. They peeled off another strip of turkey for Moose and fed it to him. He ate happily and licked his lips, ready for more. “Sounds lonely. I think having a fun scare should be a part of every holiday celebration, “ they teased lightly, giving her a little smile. They looked back away when she asked about them. “Well, it was just me and my dad, and he...didn’t care enough to do anything. Sometimes I went over to friends’ houses, but not until I was older. And then Thanksgiving in the military was either freeze-dried individual meals or mess hall slop.” They poked a potato and took a bite anyway. “So much foAWr taking care of the people who signed up to die for their country, huh?”

“I was never alone.” Nora’s answer came a little too quick. It was important though. She was always surrounded by friends. Right now a friend was crawling its way up her back, eight legs leaving a tickling trail behind on her as her friend relocated. “So much.” Nora agreed. Nora often forgot Remmy had been part of the military. They seemed too nice for the life. Then again, couldn’t say she actually knew other people from the military or its lifestyle. She’d never bothered to learn about it. “Do you think Blanche is eating and taking care of herself?”

“You know...you can be not alone and still be lonely,” Remmy pointed out quietly. Because hadn’t that been how they’d felt their entire life? Surrounded by people, by friends, but always lonely. Always distant. They’d rarely been able to connect with people, only ever able to keep their friendship with loyalty and self-sacrifice. And now...everything was the opposite. They grabbed the bowl of stuffing and scooped a heap onto Nora’s plate and then their own. “There’s bacon bits in the stuffing, you’ll like it,” they said, stirring their own around. “I think so,” they answered, then, quieter, “I hope so.”

Nora ignored what Remmy said. Who was she to speak on loneliness. Nora felt absolutely spoiled as Remmy put stuffing on her plate. All this food for just her. She really wished that Remmy could enjoy it with her. “Thanks.” She answered, instantly inhaling the offering. “I hope so.” And she did. “I look forward to this place becoming a sanctuary. The ghosts are nice, but.. More people will be nice.” Nora crossed her legs in the seat. “Is there anything you want me to get for it? I think I’ll start buying up clothes for a communal closet. In case they need things. You know.”

“I think we should make one of the extra rooms into like...a game room. Maybe get a nice TV, some video game systems, board games...like a recreation room,” Remmy answered. They liked talking about this stuff more, anyway. It felt nicer. It felt easier. They took a bite of the flavorless stuffing and almost asked Nora if it tasted alright, but stopped short. She wouldn’t say anything bad about it if it did. She probably didn’t even care. “Clothes are a good idea, too. Stuff everyone can use. Maybe some extra linens and blankets.”

“I like that.” It wasn’t a lie. The idea of a room dedicated to laughter and community time filled Nora with joy. She took another bite of food. “A closet for things. Like toothbrushes.” It’d be safe. People wouldn’t need to leave if they didn’t want to. People didn’t need to stay if they didn’t want to. Complete freedom should be found here. “Maybe an office room? For quiet time? Where the ghosts aren’t allowed to malfunction the electronics.” Ghosts would always be welcome in her home, but she knew that sometimes they could be a hindrance for everyday machinery.

“Yeah,” Remmy agreed, nodding, “and soap.” Everyone needed soap, right? They looked across the table at Nora, smiling a little more now. A genuine warmth was filling their chest-- it’d been a while since they’d been happy to talk about something, since they’d looked forward to something good and nice. They stabbed the stuffing some more. “Oh, a quiet room would be great for sure! Maybe we even have enough rooms for a quiet room and an office room?” There were almost twenty rooms in the entire house, including the living room and dining room. They could make it work, right? They looked back over at Nora. “Hey, Nora?” they asked quietly, setting their fork down. It clinked quietly. “Thank you for being here with me. I-- know this kinda stuff is weird for you, but I just-- want you to know. I’m grateful to have you in my life.”

“Everyone needs soap.” Nora agreed. In another room Nora could hear Munch laughing over that comment. It was probably how often he told her that she looked a mess and needed soap that set him off. It wasn’t her fault that she spent most of her time walking around the forest. It got dirty out there. Babadook had slunk in at some point, and was waiting at Nora’s feet. She started sneaking him some turkey. Her hands stopped in the motion as Remmy spoke. Oh to have someone grateful that she existed and was in their life, in her life. That was… nice. “I’m grateful too.” Nora avoided eye contact, not one for heart to hearts. “I’m glad I had someone here to come home to.” She ripped a leg off the turkey in as violent of a motion as she could, and dropped it down to Babadook. Just so the moment wouldn’t be awkward.

Remmy was sure their comment had probably made Nora a little uncomfortable, but they felt it was something they needed to say, especially lately. The ripping noise of the turkey made them wince a little, but it was food and it was made to be eaten, and it really didn’t matter in what manner that happened. They smiled over at Nora and reached to rip the other turkey leg off, just as violently as Nora had, before handing it down to Moose. “We’ll make this a good home for whoever wants to have it,” they said idly, glancing back across the table at Nora, “including you and me.”

#chatzy #chatzy: nora #giving thanks #nora #wickedswriting #//rly short but actually soft???#and sweet???

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sureuncertainty · 3 years

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6, 8, & 20 for the ask game? :^)

aw hell yeah thanks!

(this got super long so i’m going back and making it more ADHD accessible sorry y’all)

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

Hhhh this one is so hard because I love writing everyone??? So it’s close, and changes depending on the day and my mood, but I’m gonna go with Kat, I’ve been really enjoying writing her lately, and I’m SO excited to write her more in my sequel.

Also as of now, Nyx is the least fun lol, their chapters keep giving me aggravation since they just. don’t think/talk like me at all, and it’s really hard compared to Avery’s chapters which just flow so easily (and end up ten times too long whoops)

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

Yeah pretty much although I haven’t found anything really much like The Silence Agenda, but I do like to read a lot of thrillers/mysteries and queer romance! I also read a lot of YA which makes sense since Sure Uncertainty is also a thing so overall yeah! I try to specifically seek out books that are similar to my writing so that I can be inspired! (and like. i write what I wanna read so)

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

OH MAN SO MUCH.

let’s see... I’m including Sure Uncertainty Easter eggs in this draft of Silence Agenda which is really fun, but they’re like. deep lore lol. like for example, Avery’s supervisor at the library they work at on campus is named Mrs. Durham, and Durham was one of Emma’s old surnames i tried out before settling on Alldridge. I changed it though so most people wouldn’t get it. but i lOVE the idea of finding subtle stuff like that to tie my stories together, even ones that take place in totally different universes.

also like. idk i feel like themes of identity have been emerging a lot more in this draft of Silence Agenda, specifically with Nyx and figuring out who they are, how they feel like they’re barely a person bc they’ve spent so much of their life just trying to survive, and especially at the ending, they don’t know how to move on because they don’t even know like... what they like???

like there’s this scene where Avery asks them about their favorite music/books/movies and they just draw a total blank because they don’t know?? they’ve never even had the luxury to figure that stuff out, so they’re trying to figure out what kind of a person they are, and it’s cool bc i feel like I’VE been figuring them out alongside them. ngl they were a really simplistic character when I created them, and they’re STILL one of the hardest characters to write/flesh out because I’m still getting to know them, even now. which is weird since they’ve always been a protagonist but it’s true

also like. can we just talk for two seconds about the way that Nyx and Kat are two sides of the same coin and how that’s going to be explored in the sequel because oh my god i could write for hours about that and i’m so excited to look at it. they basically just both deal with the same trauma in very very different ways, and I’m so excited to explore that and how they clash but then ultimately help each other heal in the second book (and third) and figure out how to communicate with each other.

idk communication is also just such a theme. it’s ALSO really interesting how my own experiences have so clearly shaped this draft, specifically in relation to drafts before it. like. idk after i was in a really unhealthy abusive housemate situation with people who did NOT fucking know how to communicate like regular people, it became even more of a big thing for Nyx and Avery. Because before they can move into anywhere even close to being together (romantically or not, the story is about their emotional growth and closeness) they have to figure out how to communicate with each other. and they have these barriers (a lot of them informed by their neurodivergencies since they’re both autistic and Avery has ADHD) to communication bc of competing access needs and stuff (i.e. Nyx needs their space to be clean or they can’t think well, and they get anxious and stressed, but Avery can’t always clean bc of their executive dysfunction and the other stress in THEIR life). and that’s all such a reflection with my own communication barriers to people in my life and yes, a reflection of my relationship with my amazing partner @drama-dick who i’ve been able to like. figure that out with.

there’s just something so intimate about someone taking intentional steps and work towards figuring out how to communicate with someone, and how to understand them and where they’re coming from. ESPECIALLY from two people who have spent a long time on their own, who have both felt abandoned and rejected and alone (also hi again projection), and have decided just not to trust other people or even TRY to invest in relationships. for Avery it’s because they’re afraid of getting hurt again and for Nyx it’s because they’re afraid of hurting someone again (even unintentionally) but for both of them it’s bc they see themselves as intrinsically unworthy of love and that’s something that even just them being in a relationship by the end of the book can’t be a magic fix to. which is why i’m SOOO excited to explore them being together in the second two books, and how they continue to help each other grow (and how other people in their lives help them as well!!!)

okay that got super long i am so sorry. tl;dr - communication as a theme with Nyx and Avery relevant to my own experiences is really fucking cool. also identity as a theme with Nyx specifically and how Nyx and Kat are two sides of the same coin. all cool stuff

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8zs · 4 years

Text

Communication

(gif is not mine)

Pairing: Slytherin! San x (your/house)! Reader

Genre: Fake dating au, Hogwarts au, FLuff

Words: 1.935

Song: Tungs - The Frights

A/n: Thanks for requesting this bae.....san is kinda the love of my life and the amount of times i’ve dreamed about slytherin san is crazy..... ily

Choi San. Your typical Slytherin prince.

Your parents often called him the ‘Draco Malfoy of your time’. He was a known heartbreaker, not because he played people, but because he wouldn’t open to anyone. Well, besides his slytherin friends: Seonghwa and Jongho.

They were the most feared slytherins in school, it’s not like they were up to no good, they were up to too much good. Always telling people off and making other houses lose points.

You weren’t scared of them, after all they were just some teenage boys trying to do as they were told. You even had some classes with them. Once, you were partnered with the famous Seonghwa and he even smiled at you! Making the slytherins (and hell, even girls and boys from other houses) swoon.

You didn’t mind Jongho and Seonghwa that much, they were nice to you. That is if you consider smiling at you once in a blue moon and not hexing you when you were being rude to a house mate nice.

The one and only slytherin prince San, though. You had never interacted with him, again, not because you were scared or intimidated by him, but simply because he flat out ignored your existence. But you knew he couldn’t be that bad, you’d seen him smiling and laughing in the halls when he was sure no one was looking.

You were a rather observant person, maybe even nosy sometimes, but you couldn’t help it. Your parents had raised you to be curious of the world and it could be wonderful! But maybe not today.

You were late to class and heard someone yelling in the hallway, so you decided to check it out. When you turned the corner, you witnessed a girl, who you recognized to be that Gryffindor girl Chaewon, throwing a box of chocolates at San. “How dare you reject me when I’ve gone out of my way to do all this for you? You’re so selfish, just like the rest of your family!” She shouted.

San looked rather awkward and defenseless, like he didn’t know what to do or say. “Shouldn’t you get to class, Chaewon?” You hissed. She jumped and turned around. “Get the hell out, (y/n). This isn’t any of your business.” You walked over to San and grabbed his hand. “It kind of is when you’re being rude to my boyfriend for rejecting your affections.”

None of you saw that coming, hell, you couldn’t even believe your own words. San quickly cleared his throat and spoke up. “Yeah, I wanted to tell you but you didn’t let me finish. So if we’re done here, I’m gonna walk my s/o to class.”

Chaewon looked at your hands, and then at the two of you. “Whatever.” And with that, she stormed away.

Once she was out of sight, you quickly let go of San’s hand. “I’m really sorry for saying and doing all that, oh my god…She’s gonna tell everyone and it’s my fault. What the hell I-“ You got cut off by a warm chuckle. “It’s fine, (y/n). She isn’t gonna tell anyone.” You just nodded, seemingly knowing Chaewon better than San did, but deciding not to say anything.

So when you and San, coincidentally, walked into the dining hall for breakfast the next day together, you didn’t expect the whole hall to go silent and stare at you two. You looked at San and quickly walked to your table.

When san arrived at his table and sat in between Seonghwa and Jongho, everyone in the hall started talking again except his table. He coughed and grabbed a croissant.

“Dude when were you gonna tell us you and (y/n) were dating? They’re so cute, maybe even too cute for you.” Some kid named Lucas joked. San shrugged and look Lucas in the eye. “Atleast I haven’t managed to stay single my whole stay at Hogwarts.” Lucas looked down and started eating again.

“Dude, chill.” Seonghwa giggled, quite amused by the situation. “You’ve got some explaining to do, though.” Jongho said with his mouth full of food and San nodded.

When classes were over, San, Seonghwa and Jongho walked to their shared dorm room. The three guys sat down and while San grabbed his books to start looking at how much homework he had, the others kept staring at him.

“So?” Jongho spoke up. San groaned. “It’s so dumb. That gryffindor, Chaewon I think her name was, she confessed to me. And when I rejected her she started shouting and threw something at me. So (y/n) came over and basically told Chaewon to back off and that they were my s/o already. I didn’t think it would spread around, let alone that fast.” He grabbed a pillow and laid it over his head and groaned loudly.

“This is your chance, though.” Seonghwa said. San quickly sat up, pillow falling in his lap. “What the hell does that mean?” Jongho laughed. “Dude, we’ve seen you staring at (y/n) sometimes. Even if you don’t like them, you at least find them attractive. Be honest.”

San’s lips formed a thin line. “…Yeah…” “So! This is your chance, mate! You can pretend to date her, and maybe if stuff ends up like in the books, you can get a real s/o out of it!” Seonghwa winked at San. He just rolled his eyes. “God, you sound like a ravenclaw.”

Your friends and housemates kept bugging you. Asking you how you got San, what was he like? Was he a good boyfriend? Are Seonghwa and Jongho still available?

You just nodded and smiled at their questions, and then immediately locked yourself in your room. You were lucky enough to have a room of your own, for some reason. You didn’t know what to do, and it was giving you a headache.

You quickly wrote something down, put it in an envelope and gave that to your owl. ”Please bring it to the slytherin boy Choi San.” You swear you even saw your owl wink at you.

As soon as San got your letter, he got dressed again and set off to the astronomy tower, where you had asked to meet him.

When he got there, you were already sitting at one of the couches there. You heard him come in and turned around. “Hey…” You whispered. He gave a small smile and sat down next to you.

“I kinda fucked up, didn’t I?” You chuckled. He sighed and shook his head. “It’s okay, (y/n). But what do we do now? I mean, we can’t come out and say it was fake…” You nodded . “Do you maybe wanna… I don’t know it may be a dumb idea… Pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for a month or two! And then we can break up, maybe even publicly, so people will know it’s over and we can continue our lives as if nothing happened?” San simply nodded.

“There have to be some rules, though. For example, no kissing. Only hand holding and hugs are allowed. “ “Yeah, sounds good.” “Anything else you wanna add?” “For now, no. And thank you for coming here, and sorry for dragging you into this.”

He gave you another smile, except one this one was warmer. You couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m going back to my dorms now. I have homework. See you tomorrow, San.” You took his hand and gave it a small squeeze. You quickly let go and walked out. San looked at the stars for a while, and then decided to walk to his dorms too.

A month and a half had passed, and the only thing you could think of is that San was gonna ‘break up’ with you soon. You didn’t want that to happen, was that wrong?

You had grown feelings for the slytherin prince. You loved and hated it at the same time. You loved that you could just act as a couple and act all sweet and lovely like there was nothing wrong, but you hated that it was time to end it soon.

Little did you know, San felt the exact same. You two hadn’t even talked about breaking up since the day at the astronomy tower. He should talk about this with someone, he thought. The first person that came to mind was Seonghwa, he was pretty smart and good with girls, right?

So when it was time to go to the dorms, he and Seonghwa went somewhere private. “Hwa, I don’t wanna end my fake relationship with (y/n). I think I even have feelings for them.” Seonghwa snorted, he should’ve seen this coming. “And did you tell them that?” San deadpanned. “Of course not! What if they don’t feel the same and I make a fool out of myself?” “Dude, believe me, she’s into you. No girl can fake being in a relationship and act like that.”

Seonghwa couldn’t tell San you had wen to him with the same problem, and he told you the exact same thing. “Just confess to her, I’m sure it’ll go well.” And with that he pushed San out of their shared room into the hallway that led to the common room. “God damnit.” San muttered.

How the hell were you gonna confess to San? Yes, you were in a fake relationship with him. Yes, you liked him. Yes, you were too scared to say anything about it.

You were wearing one of his sweaters and it smelled like him, you hated this. You groaned and turned to face your window.

A few minutes passed and an owl pecked his beak on the window, startling you. You recognized that Australian black barn owl, it was San’s. You got up and let him in. It handed you a letter and then flew back away.

“Meet me at the astronomy tower, right now. –San ♡”

San was sitting on the same couch as the first time and when you came in and he didn’t notice you, you couldn’t help but admire him. The moonlight hit his face in a way that made it look like he was glowing. His eyes sparkled, the stars reflecting in them.

His deep brown eyes glowed like a dream by firelight. You felt yourself getting more infatuated by him and his mere existence.

You saw his head turn and his eyes locked with yours. Startling you a bit.

“ (y/n), hey…”

“Hey…”

You sat next to him on the couch and silence fell again. It was comfortable, though. You were both just enjoying the view of the stars.

After some time, San grabbed your hand and you turned to him. He spoke in the softest voice. “I don’t wanna fake break up with you.”

Your eyes turned wide, and then you let out a small giggle. “I don’t wanna fake break up with you, either. I’ve grown quite fond of you, actually.”

He blushed, oh my god you made Choi San blush. He looked so sweet and innocent, you couldn’t help but reach for his cheek. He leaned into your touch and hummed. “Do you maybe wanna be my s/o? Like, for real this time?”

You gave a small nod. “I’d love that.”

You stared at each others eyes, and he leaned in. “Can I kiss you?” It was nothing more than a sweet whisper, but he dreamed to hear those words from you. He smirked. “I’m leaning in, aren’t I?”

#ateez #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez hogwarts au #ateez au #ateez hp au #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #san x reader #san imagine #san x you #san au

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