Lia

21-year-old make-believe enthusiast Masterlist

[la-laborista-republiko]

[citizenofmars]

Friends with benefits

Zoey and George thought it would be a good idea to become friends with benefits. Until they caught feelings for each other. When George doesn’t ask her to the Yule Ball, Zoey decides to break things off to spare herself some heartache. But there’s something she doesn’t know.

 Pairing: George Weasley x OC (F/M)

Warnings: lil bit of sex, drunk George

 The portrait hole closed, leaving the common room finally empty. Zoey dropped the book she’d been pretending to read on the couch and made her way up the stairs of the boys’ dormitory, where she knew George was waiting for her.

She opened the door to the sixth years’ dormitory and grinned at the boy, who was laying on his bed with his arms behind his head.

“Has everyone left?” he asked, sitting up. Zoey nodded and leapt onto his bed, hastening to pull the boy’s shirt off.

 Zoey rolled over, breathing heavily.

“Thanks, Georgie,” she panted, patting his chest. She went to get up, but George wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back down next to him.

“Where are you going?”

Zoey turned to look at him, and chuckled when she saw his hair sticking out in all directions. She ran her hand through it, trying to fix the mess she’d made. “We’re going to be late for class if we don’t hurry.”

George’s expression at her words told her he, too, had forgotten for a moment there was a whole world waiting for them beyond their bed. “Oh, right.”

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Zoey smiled and kissed George’s cheek, before getting up and beginning to dress. “This was great, let’s do it again sometime,” she called as she walked out the door, causing George to laugh.

 George walked into his Charms class mere seconds before Professor Flitwick, and went to sit next to Fred.

“Where were you at breakfast?” he asked. “You missed Ron spilling milk all over himself. Childish humour, really, but I thought it was quite hilarious nonetheless.”

“I fell asleep,” George lied.

Fred furrowed his brow: it was unlike George to lie to him.

“Are you sure?” he said, eyeing the odd purple stain on his neck.

George fixed the collar of his shirt. “Yes, yes, now shut up,” he stressed, gesturing at Professor Flitwick who was glaring at them.

George knew Fred wasn’t convinced and felt horrible for lying to him – his twin brother, his best friend – but that was how it had to be.

He had always known who Zoey was, as she was a fellow Gryffindor, but he hadn’t properly met her until the first week of his sixth year, when they ended up cleaning Snape’s office for detention together. It didn’t take long for her to land in his bed, but she had made it very clear they weren’t to catch feelings for each other, because she didn’t have time for complicated, and, most importantly, that she didn’t want anyone to know they were having sex.

“And I mean anyone,” she had stressed, clearly referring to Fred. Fred knew George and Zoey were friends, but he had no idea just how close they were.

And so, for the first time in his life, George had kept a secret from Fred, for three long months.

 Zoey’s first class of the day was Transfiguration. Like George, she barely made it in time, and hadn’t sat down yet when McGonagall began to speak.

“I have something to say to you all,” she said. “The Yule Ball is approaching – a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above although you may invite a younger student if you wish.”

A ball. That would be interesting.

Zoey surprised herself when her first thought was that she hoped George would ask her.

 Over the course of the following days Zoey pushed that thought out of her head. She knew it was silly of her to hope George would ask her, as she had been the one to set the rule that they should be nothing more than fuck-buddies. She would turn the other way whenever she saw people being asked around her, and avoided the topic when it came up with her friends.

Neither Zoey nor George mentioned the Yule Ball whenever they met up, but still Zoey hoped and grew inexplicably excited at the thought of the Ball every time she was on her way to see the boy.

She hadn’t told anyone, but she had already turned down three separate invitations – all because she was waiting on the one. She felt silly, waiting and waiting on an invitation that wouldn’t come, but she couldn’t bring herself to say yes while she was still hoping for George to ask her.

 On the last week of term, Zoey had grown impatient.

She was sitting with Angelina and Alicia in the common room one night chatting, when Fred, who was sitting at the table next to George, called across the common room, “Oi! Angelina!” All three of the girls turned to look at him.

“What?” Angelina called back.

“Want to come to the ball with me?”

Zoey didn’t see the look Angelina gave Fred because she was too busy looking at George, expecting him to say something to her, to take his brother’s example and ask her to the stupid ball. However, George was avoiding her eye. He clearly had no interest in asking her. In fact, he probably had no interest in her at all, beyond sex.

A minute later the twins left. Zoey wasn’t listening to what Angelina and Alicia were saying anymore, and she made up some excuse to go up to her dorm.

Lee Jordan stopped her at the bottom of the staircase. “Hey, Zoey?”

Zoey faked a smile. “Yes?”

“Do you want to go to the ball with me?” he asked. Zoey reckoned he must have been inspired by Fred’s proposal.

As she was about to say no, she told herself that George wasn’t going to ask her and she ought to accept another boy’s invitation, after all, if nothing to make George jealous. She was fond of Lee, too, so it wouldn’t be completely horrible to go to the ball with him. “Yes, sure. I would love to,” she smiled.

Then she walked up the stairs, pulled back the curtains around her four-poster bed and cried.

 When she woke up the next morning she knew it was time to end her friends-with-benefits relationship with George, because it was now hurting her, and that was never the point of it.

She would miss it, for sure, but eventually she would get over it – she would get over him.

Zoey gave a start when George grabbed her wrist as she made her way to breakfast. He pulled her away from the stream of groggy students pouring in the Great Hall and said, “Meet me at the prefects’ bathroom on the fourth floor tonight, after everyone’s gone to bed. I have the password.”

 At midnight, Zoey climbed through the portrait hole, feeling in a way like she was walking to the gallows: it was time to end things with George, and though she knew it was for the best, the thought made her miserable.

She found George leaning on the wall next to the door, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He grinned when he saw her and whispered the password.

Without a word they made their way in. Only then, with the door closed, did they dare speak without fear of being caught.

“Wow,” Zoey breathed as the took in the enormous bathroom.

“I know,” George beamed. “Do you want to take a bath with me?”

Zoey told herself she should say no and get on with what she went there to do, but she couldn’t bring herself to waste the opportunity to take a bath like that.

As George turned on all the taps, she took her clothes off and climbed into the tub. It was so deep that she could stand in it and still be in the water. Zoey was looking at the portrait of a mermaid, resting her arms on the side of the bathtub, when George made his way toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaving a trail of peppered kisses from the back of her ear all the way down to her shoulder. The girl let herself melt into his touch. She turned around and kissed him, allowing him to lift her up in his embrace.

She cried the whole time. George didn’t notice, as she was careful to hide her face by resting her chin on his shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around his neck. Silent tears made their way down Zoey’s face, mixing with the pink bubbles in the bathtub. Merlin, she loved him. When she had the bright idea to have sex with him the first time she had no clue this would be waiting for her; she had no clue that the fact that he didn’t love her back would destroy her.

She sobbed, but muffled the sound by biting softly on George’s skin.

“Don’t worry, love,” he breathed. “No one’s going to hear us.”

 When they were done, George pushed Zoey away from him so he could look at her. He gasped softly when he saw her eyes were red and shiny.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Zoey forced a chuckle and wiped her eyes with her hands. “Yeah, I just got soap in my eyes.”

George pressed a kiss to her lips and climbed out of the bathtub. Zoey lingered in the water for a moment, taking one last look at his body. Then she followed him out and got dressed without saying a word.

This was odd. When they were together they were either moaning or laughing. An awkward silence was unlike them.

Zoey’s heart dropped as she realised that he probably figured out she had feelings for him, and he was probably also about to end things before everything turned into a huge mess.

They were both drying their hair with towels when George finally broke the silence.

“I hear you’re going to the ball with Lee,” he said.

She nodded. “Yes, he asked me the other night.”

“Oh, well… that’s great,” George said and gave a small smile.

Zoey decided she had to break things off with him right now, or she would never be able to. “Listen, about that…” she started with a sigh. “I think we shouldn’t do… this… anymore.”

George’s lips parted in surprise and he dropped his towel to the floor. “What?”

“I think we should call this off,” Zoey said, more confident this time.

“But why?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer!” George protested.

“Well, I don’t have to justify myself to you. I just don’t want to have sex with you anymore.”

“Did I do something?” George sounded hurt.

His tone told Zoey she had been wrong in assuming he, too, wanted to end things. But then, why had he been so quiet?

“No, no,” Zoey hastened to say. “I just don’t think it’s fair to Lee,” she lied.

“So that’s it? You’re moving on to Lee Jordan? My best friend?” George was mad now.

“Moving on?”

“Yeah, you’re bored with me and now you want to fuck Lee. Is that it?”

Zoey wanted to tell the truth, to tell him he couldn’t see him anymore because it hurt too much to know she was nothing more than a booty call to him, but she couldn’t bear to hear him tell her he didn’t love her back. And so, yet again, she lied. “I wouldn’t have said it like that, but yes.”

George sighed. It seemed like his anger had vanished suddenly. “I assume there’s nothing I can say to make you change your mind.”

Zoey shook her head and gave him a small smile. “No, there isn’t.” She walked over to him and stood on the tip of her toes to give him one last kiss on the cheek, and then she left, her hair dripping water on the floor behind her.

 George stood there in the prefects’ bathroom for a while before he shook the torpor off and walked back to the Gryffindor common room.

He couldn’t fully understand what had happened. He thought she was happy. He knew he was.

Well, actually, he wasn’t, not really. He wanted her to be more than a fuck-mate.

About a month into their so-called relationship, George had realised he was a commitment type of man, and very much so. This limbo between friendship and romance was confusing for him, because he knew he had feelings for the girl he was spending time with, yet he wasn’t allowed to act upon them because he had agreed to the rules, and the rules said they weren’t a couple and never could be.

However, unlike Zoey, he had decided that half-having her was better than not having her at all, and he had suppressed his feelings because he was sure that was what she wanted.

And yet, despite his effort, he was still getting his heart broken in half. His best friend.

George couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of Zoey and Lee together.  Lee would get to take her to the ball and dance with her, which was all that George wanted, but he couldn’t have it. It was unfair, and he was angry.

 Zoey didn’t see much of George or Lee in the following days. She spent most of her time in the library with Katie Bell with the excuse of being drowning in her schoolwork.

“O.W.L.s are coming up for me, you know,” she said to Angelina when she had mentioned how odd it seemed.

On Christmas morning, Lee approached her at breakfast with a smile and they agreed to meet in the common room that night.

Zoey asked her friends to do her hair, because she was rubbish at doing it and she wanted to look absolutely perfect. For herself, sure, but also to make sure George took notice. She put on her most sparkly green dress and twirled around the room as her friends showered her in compliments.

“You’re too kind,” she laughed, but deep down she was very satisfied.

Zoey made her way down the staircase of the girls’ dormitory and found Lee waiting for her at the last step, his lips parted in awe.

“You look gorgeous,” he breathed and Zoey giggled.

She grabbed onto the arm he was extending to her. “You clean up nice, too, Jordan,” she said. Her smile faded a little when in the corner of her eye she noticed George staring at the pair, dateless and looking quite grumpy next to a beaming Fred.

“Are you alright?” Lee asked as he helped her through the portrait hole. Zoey nodded.

“I was just wondering what we’re going to eat,” she lied, and then proceeded to ask him about Quidditch.

 Lee was a great person. He was funny and a real gentleman, but Zoey couldn’t help but wish George would be the one to ask her to dance.

As she and Lee made their way toward the dance floor, arms interlaced, she found herself looking for George’s eyes. When she met them, she gave him a small smile. She allowed Lee to grab her waist and lead a waltz, and when she turned around she noticed George wasn’t in his seat anymore.

 After endless dancing, Zoey excused herself to go to the restroom. Although she had danced in a very silly way with Fred and Angelina, as well as many other Gryffindor sixth years, she had completely lost George in the crowd.

She could see him now, though. He was slouched on the floor in front of the bathroom door. His bowtie was undone and his hair looked dishevelled, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His head was resting on his hand and he looked like he was asleep.

“George?” she called. He gave a start and turned to look at her.

“I was waiting for you,” he slurred.

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Zoey chuckled and sat on the floor next to him and took off her shoes. He looked horrible and reeked of alcohol. “Merlin, George, have you been drinking?”

George chuckled dryly and took a swing from a flask that Zoey hadn’t noticed until then. She ripped it from his hands, screwed the cap back on and set it next to her on the floor. “What do you care?” George spat. “You’re with Lee now. You should worry about him.”

Zoey sighed. “I understand you feel betrayed, but I’m still your friend. I will always worry about you.”

George scoffed. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Zoey didn’t know what to say. “George…” she started, but said nothing.

“Has Lee told you we got into a fight? No? Well, we did.” He laughed dryly and took his face in his hands. “About you. My best friend and I got into a fight about you. Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

About her? How could they have gotten in a fight about her?

“Of course Lee doesn’t know the fight was about you,” George continued. “He thinks I’m jealous because both he and Fred have dates and I don’t. Like I couldn’t get a date if I wanted to. It’s just… I only wanted you.”

Zoey’s heart skipped a beat. Had she been wrong this whole time?

George finally turned to look at her and the way his eyes were glistening reminded her just how drunk he was. He wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

“You’re wasted,” she said, but her voice trembled a little.

“Don’t say it like it’s not your fault!” he shouted.

Zoey wanted to cry. “George, stop,” she whimpered. “You don’t mean any of this.”

“Yes, I do!”

“Then why didn’t you ask me to the ball?” It was Zoey’s turn to shout. “Why did you look away when Fred was asking Angelina, like you thought looking at me would give me strange ideas about us?”

George stumbled to his feet, and Zoey followed, standing with her bare feet on the cold stone floor.

“You made it clear that what we had wasn’t a relationship!” George shouted. Zoey urged him to lower his voice and he complied. “It was you who made the rule we shouldn’t catch feelings for each other!”

“Well, I fucked up!” Zoey admitted.

“I wanted to ask you, so bad. I’m pretty sure I even had a dream about it,” George said, sounding more desperate than angry. “But I thought you would ditch me forever if I did, and I reckoned it was better to hide my feelings than not have you around at all.” He gave a small laugh. “Well, joke’s on me, cause you ditched me anyway.”

That sent Zoey beyond the verge of tears. “I didn’t ditch you!” she cried. “I got scared and I ran for the hills.”

“You shouldn’t be scared of me. I promise I’m not going to hurt you,” George breathed. He closed the distance between them with one step and put one hand behind Zoey’s head. He leaned in and pressed his lips onto hers.

It was the first time they didn’t kiss hungrily. They took their time, it wasn’t just one step on a ladder to something else. Zoey put her hands on either side of George’s face, and George rested his free hand on the small of her waist. They kissed softly. Although they knew their way around each other’s bodies better than anyone else, this still felt new. The best kind of new.

George broke the kiss, bringing a hand to his head. “Merlin, my head is spinning,” he giggled. Zoey laughed at him.

“You’re so drunk,” she chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” George said. He put his hands on the girl’s waist and pulled her in for another kiss, but Zoey stood on the tip of her toes to kiss his cheek.

“Just promise you’ll remember this in the morning.”

“I’ll try my best,” George joked.

 Zoey made George sit down on a stone bench nearby and, bare-footed, ran back into the Great Hall to find Lee and briefly explain why she had to leave.

When she came back, George was laying down on the bench, his legs dangling off of it. She was panting.

“I feel sick,” George complained.

“I hate to tell you this, but maybe don’t drink so much next time. Where did you even get this?” she asked, holding up the flask she had left on the floor and shoving it in her purse along with her shoes.

“Some seventh year,” George shrugged. Zoey pulled him up to sit, and then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and helped him stand. Slowly, they made their way back to the Gryffindor common room.

The stairs were the most difficult part, but eventually they made it into the portrait hole and up to the boys’ dormitory.

By the time Zoey sat George on his bed, he was barely conscious.

“I’m sleepy,” he groaned when Zoey told him to get into his pyjamas.

She undressed him and left him in his underwear. “Uh, am I getting laid?”

Zoey sniggered. “No, George, it’s time to sleep.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“No, no,” George protested. “Stay.”

And so she stayed. She took off her dress, closed the curtains around George’s bed and let him wrap his arms around her. They had never cuddled before. It was nice.

Until George broke the silence. He groaned, “I’m going to vomit.”

 I just want to put it out there that I think of the characters as much older than they actually are because it makes me uncomfortable to be writing about two minors (she’s fifteen ffs) having sex but I like to write about things that happen at Hogwarts and that’s how old the characters have to be. In my head they’re, like, eighteen, even though canonically it makes no sense.

 MASTERLIST || requests (also please send in some character names (male, female, unisex) because I suck at coming up with them)

[citizenofmars]

Hi!

If you see this, please message me some character names (male/female/unisex) because the hardest part of writing fanfiction is coming up with names I don’t hate.

Thank you!

[citizenofmars]

The fire it ignites, part 3

PART 1 || PART 2

Ginny and Hermione woke up to an empty bed the next morning, but didn’t think much of it. They made their way downstairs groggily, still in their pyjamas, but found the last steps of the staircase occluded.

George, Ron and Harry, also in their nightclothes and slippers, were leaning forward as far as their necks would allow them to peer into the sitting room without being seen by whoever was in it.

“What are you up to?” Ginny yawned. “I’m hungry – “

A chorus of sshh interrupted her. “Be quiet or they’ll wake up!” George said in a whisper.

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other, puzzled, and made their way past the three boys. Once at the bottom of the stairs, they turned and spotted Avery sitting on the couch with her head leaning on Fred’s shoulder; the boy was also asleep, his head lain on top of the girl’s, their arms wrapped around each other under a plaid blanket.

The presence of the two girls woke Avery up. She stirred, waking up Fred. They looked at each other and said: “Good morning.”

The boys, afraid of being caught staring, darted up the stairs back to their rooms, while Ginny and Hermione sat at the kitchen table pretending not to have noticed the two on the couch.

Avery wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat down at the kitchen table. Fred sat opposite her and gave her a small smile, which the girl awkwardly returned.

It was odd for her to know that someone had peaked into a part of her life she usually kept hidden; she was embarrassed, sitting there, knowing the man in front of her had seen her cry.

Thankfully, she didn’t have the chance to dwell on the thought, as everyone else in the house poured into the kitchen, pretending to have just woken up.

“Good morning!” Mrs. Weasley called. “Have you slept well?”

Everyone but Fred and Avery nodded as Mrs. Weasley started pouring coffee in the mugs, smiling widely at Mr. Weasley as he sat down at the table and opened that day’s Daily Prophet.

“I was thinking we should leave for Diagon Alley just after lunch. Does that sound alright with everyone?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

The lot agreed. They finished breakfast and got up.

“We should go hike this morning instead of this afternoon,” George whispered when everyone but Fred and Avery were out of earshot. “So we don’t get behind on packing. We don’t have much time left.”

Fred nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Ave?”

Avery seemed to only then be pulled out of a dream. “Uh, you know, I think you two should go ahead without me. I didn’t sleep too well last night, I need a nap,” she lied.

George nodded and walked up the stairs to go get dressed. Fred looked at Avery, trying to read her expression and understand if it had anything to do with him.

“Fred, are you coming?” George called from the second floor.

“Yeah.”

What Avery felt she needed was time to think: about Fred, about their friendship, about all the confusing things she was feeling, and a little about George.

Over the course of the past few weeks it had become clear to her that she did feel something for her best friends, but she wasn’t sure if that something was worth risking their friendship. Fred and George were all she had, she couldn’t risk losing them unless she was completely sure of what she was feeling. And, right now, she wasn’t.

And last night that feeling was amplified a hundred-fold. She felt it in the tip of her fingers and toes; she recognised it in the way the weight on her chest lifted just enough to let her breathe when Fred was near. She couldn’t deny it anymore: Hermione and Ginny had a point. However, she couldn’t be sure that her feelings were reciprocated. Did she want to find out? Or was it best to just leave it alone and live with them, but keep Fred and George close?

Avery didn’t know the answer to any of the questions swirling in her head, and she had no clue how she would figure them out. All that was clear to her was that she needed to stay away from Fred just for a little while.

 Fred and George, with the sole company of their rucksacks, walked out the door.

“Did you believe her?” George asked.

Fred shook his head. “Not one bit.”

They made their way into the shed. Once inside, they put Extension Charms on their bags and begun cleaning out the shelves, which over the summer had grown quite crowded with products.

As they did so, they chatted about Quidditch teams and what shops they wanted to visit on Diagon Alley.

George waited and waited, but Fred didn’t seem to want to mention the elephant in the room. He finally broke, just as Fred was listing all the ice-cream flavours he would have loved someone to make.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked. Fred didn’t reply. “With you and Avery?”

“No, man, what are you on about?”

“Do you like her?”

“Well, yes, of course I like her. You like her, too. She’s our best friend.”

“No, Freddie, that’s not what I mean.”

Fred scoffed. “It’s nothing, really.” Under George’s pushing stare, he continued. “She had a bad dream, something about her parents abandoning her. Wouldn’t talk about it. Then we just fell asleep.”

“Holy hell, you’re daft!”

“D’you want me to hit you? You know I’m not scared to do that.”

“You had the perfect chance! Why didn’t you take it?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Georgie.” Fred sat down on the floor and George did the same.

“Is it really, though? Or did you just convince yourself that it is?” Fred shrugged, not knowing how to answer that question. “She’s probably just as scared. Must be hard for her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mum once said that she thinks Avery acts tough because her parents don’t love her enough. Like it’s a defence mechanism. She never really talks about her feelings, does she? Maybe it’s because it’s a little hard for her.”

“George, I never talk about my feelings either. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s because you’re an emotionless git.”

“I can still hit you, you know.”

“My point is, you should make a move now, before we go back to school. It’ll be harder then.”

“I’m not sure,” Fred shook his head. When he stood up, George knew that was his way of saying the conversation was over.

When they got back, they found everyone in the sitting room playing Exploding Snap, waiting for them to have lunch. Avery looked much more relaxed than she had earlier that morning, and waved excitedly at Fred and George.

She sat in between them at lunch and had them tell her, in whispers, what they had got done that morning. It was as if the awkwardness from that morning had never happened.

 The first stop at Diagon Alley was Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

Avery was the first in. She bought the largest cone that was available, complete of whipped cream on top, and winked at Harry and Fred who were left to put their coins together after her.

She sat on a bench outside as she waited for everyone else to get their ice-cream, while Mrs. Weasley was busy purchasing everyone’s schoolbooks.

Fred was the first one out. He went to stand in front of the girl with his tiny ice-cream cone, causing Avery’s laughter.

“Is that pistachio?” he asked, and before she could answer he bent to get a massive bite out of her cone. “Oh, yes it is!”

“Fred!” Avery tried to complain, but no one would have taken her seriously as she was having trouble masking her laughter.

“I love pistachio,” Fred said. There was green ice-cream on his upper lip, and Avery laughed but didn’t point it out.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Well, I have no more money and no dignity to lose, so I have to say that threat doesn’t scare me much.”

At that moment George walked out of the Parlour. “Hey,” he called. “If Fred got some of your ice-cream, I want some too!” And Avery happily extended her ice-cream to her friend.

They spent the rest of the afternoon walking around, helping Mrs. Weasley with the errands, but mostly admiring the window shops filled with dreamy things they could never afford.

“Alright, children” Mrs. Weasley started, trying her best to get everyone’s attention and smacking the back of Fred’s and George’s heads when they ignored her and kept laughing amongst themselves. “Now, Ginny and I are going to buy her some robes. We will meet back here in thirty minutes. Whoever is late gets left behind!”

The remainder of the group split: the boys walked into Quality Quidditch Supplies to have a look around, while Hermione and Avery chose to go check out Arithmancy books at Flourish and Blotts.

“Freaks,” Ron muttered as the girls walked away.

As the two of them walked to the bookstore, Avery could tell Hermione was looking at her with an amused smirk, but she ignored her. Hermione eventually couldn’t take it anymore, and asked: “So?”

“So what?”

“Tell me about Fred!”

“There’s not much to tell,” Avery tried to cut the conversation short, because talking about this made her a bit uncomfortable and she walked into the shop, beginning to browse. However, she had to continue because Hermione wasn’t happy with her answer. “I went to sit on the couch, he came down too and then we fell asleep. Nothing happened.”

“But did you want it to?”

“Not in that moment, no.”

Hermione smiled excitedly. “’Not in that moment’ means there is a moment when you would have wanted it to happen!”

Avery sighed, running her finger along the spines of the books in the Arythmancy section in search of a title that would spark her interest. “I guess so,” she said in the most casual way she could muster.

“Does that mean you think Ginny and I were right?”

Avery shrugged. “A little.”

“Avery, that is amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

“Nothing’s happened, Hermione,” Avery laughed.

“But you can make it happen, now that you know how you feel about it.”

“I’m not sure that’s what I’m going to do.”

Hermione’s face fell. “Why not?”

“I just don’t want to fuck it up. I’m happy with the way things are right now, I don’t want to be greedy and end up with nothing.”

“I’m sure that’s not what would happen,” Hermione tried to reason, but Avery shook her head.

“Think about you and Ron, and then Harry. What would you do?” At that, Hermione stayed quiet. “It’s alright, though. I don’t mind. I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.”

  The next morning marked August 31st, the last day of the summer holidays.

“We need to finish packing everything today,” Avery reminded the twins after breakfast. They lingered around the breakfast table to be able to talk in private while everyone went in the garden.

“And figure out what to do about Mum,” Fred added.

“Oh, about that. I reckon we should just put the rucksacks in my trunk – she won’t be checking that – and all the things of mine that don’t fit I’ll just put in your trunks. And if she asks, we’ll say I’m very materialistic and own too many clothes.”

“Brilliant!” Fred said.

“Yeah, brilliant,” echoed George. He looked distracted, and a little faint as he sat back down at the kitchen table.

“Are you alright, George?” Avery asked.

“I feel ill,” he said. He rested his elbows on the table and hid his face in his hands.

“Are you serious? George, we’re going back to Hogwarts tomorrow morning. We must finish packing and demolish the shed today!” Fred stressed.

“Then the two of you are going to have to go without me.”

The little fucker, thought Fred. There was absolutely no way for either of them to get out of it, because the rucksacks were two and Mrs. Weasley would have found it suspicious to see one person go hike alone with two rucksacks.

“Are you sure?” Avery asked.

George heaved a little, and Fred took a mental note to compliment his twin later for the effort. “Yeah, I’m sure. And you better hurry, if you don’t want to witness something very nasty.”

Fred and Avery, though hesitatingly, set off toward their secret shed.

“Are you feeling better?” Fred asked after a minute of silence.

“I’ve always felt good,” Avery lied.

Fred ignored her. “Does that happen often?”

“I don’t know why you would want to talk about this,” Avery said grumpily.

“Because I care.”

“It happens more often than it probably should. There, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not. I think maybe talking about it would help. I’m here, you know.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Fred stopped in his tracks. “Why are you being like this?”

Avery stopped too and turned to look at him. “Like what?”

“Bitchy and uncooperative. I’m only trying to help!”

“Because this is making me uncomfortable! Have you stopped to think maybe I don’t want your help? Or anyone’s!”

“Fine, have it your way, then.”

They walked the remaining distance in silence.

Avery felt guilty. She hadn’t meant to treat Fred that way. She appreciated his willingness to help and she was grateful he cared, but the mention of things she saw as weaknesses made her react that way.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a while, her voice low.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry,” she repeated, louder this time.

“I heard you the first time,” Fred confessed with a grin. “I just wanted to hear you say that again.”

Avery shook her head, but chuckled. They walked into the shed and begun putting away the remaining things on the once-crowded shelves.

They chatted about the things they were most excited about as they were packing, reminiscing on their favourite memories – most of which ended in detention.

Fred loved to watch her laugh. He loved the way she threw her head back and laughed with her whole body; he loved how she often had to wipe tears from her eyes afterward. And Fred the jokester could find nothing more important than that.

If somebody asked him, Fred couldn’t say what drove him to do what he did next.

Avery was standing on the other side of the small room, clutching her stomach to try and stop her abs from cramping because she’d laughed too hard, and Fred felt the sudden urge to kiss her. It was the strongest feeling he’d ever had, starting from his stomach and engulfing him head to toe like a warm shower. And he chose to follow his instinct, forgetting why he’d ever cared about any possible consequence.

He took the two steps that separated them and before Avery had any chance to protest he put his hands on either side of her face and pressed his lips on hers. The kiss was needy, yet slow. Avery put her hands on his torso and pulled him closer. It was like the rest of the world had vanished, and all that remained was the two of them in that small, empty shed.

They pulled apart, but neither took a step back. Avery was looking up at Fred and bit her lip to try and hide her embarrassment.

“You know George was faking, right?” Fred said, and Avery chuckled.

“I’m not mad he did.”

They stood there taking in the image of each other for a few minutes, then they grabbed the rucksacks and stepped outside. They glanced at the shed one last time.

“This was the best summer I could have asked for,” Avery said.

“Same here,” Fred winked. He reached into his pocket to grab his wand and flicked it. In no more than a few seconds, every piece of wood was back where they had found it.

Fred and Avery started walking back to the Burrow, more slowly than ever before.

“I still mean what I said about being there forever,” Fred said. “It doesn’t matter how this – us – goes, you’ll always be my best friend.”

Avery had to fight back tears. She wasn’t one to cry easily, but the past few hours had been quite the emotional rollercoaster, and this was the last she could take. “Thank you.”

 -

MASTERLIST

Aaaaand, that’s it!

At one point I thought I should maybe write one last part, sort of an “epilogue” (if you can call it that…) but I’m not too sure. Let me know what you think I should do, if you’d like.

 Now, I know it’s kind of annoying that the second fred kisses her avery seems to forget all of her reasons for not wanting to be with him, but bear with me please: I omitted the explanation because I felt like it would be too long and, frankly, too boring.

tag list: @elf-punk​ 

[citizenofmars]

The fire it ignites, part 2

PART 1 

That afternoon went on as every other that summer: Ron and Ginny, now joined by Harry and Hermione, played games and read in the garden, while Fred, George and Avery disappeared for a few hours up the hills.

“You really don’t know where they’re going?” Harry asked as he watched the three friends walk away from the house through the window in the sitting room.

“No clue,” Ron nodded.

“I reckon it has something to do with that joke shop they always talk about” Ginny said. “It only makes sense.”

Ron scoffed. “Nah, Fred and George wouldn’t spend the summer before their last year at school working. I think they’re just planning some elaborate prank.”

 Little did Ron know, Ginny had guessed correctly.

On the very day of Avery’s arrival at the Burrow, the twins had told their friend about the pile of gold Harry Potter had left them, and how they’d been planning some gadgets for the joke shop they aimed to open one day. The only problem was that they had no way to work without the risk of having Mrs. Weasley or one of their siblings catch them.

The solution came instantly to Avery: pretend to go hike in the hills surrounding the area, and instead build a shed just far enough from the house so that no one could see them. Because Fred and George were now of age, and were therefore allowed to perform magic, it only took them an afternoon to find the perfect spot and build a shed, and ever since then they’d spent several hours a day locked in the small structure.

They already had a great deal of orders, not to mention all the new ideas they had to transform into reality. It was hard work, but, to them, it was the best kind.

Working in the shed, that afternoon, Avery had to push out of her mind the memory of Fred squeezing her hand and suppress the butterflies that came to life in her stomach every time it resurfaced despite her best efforts.

“Avery! You can’t mix Boomslang skin and Bouncing Spider Juice! Are you trying to blow us up?”

“Sorry, George. I grabbed the wrong bottle.”

Fred was her best friend. There was no way she felt anything for him other than friendship and gratitude for having saved her life in more ways than one along with his brother. She decided to blame that day’s distraction on possibly hitting her head in her fall, and managed to forget about it.

 Unbeknownst to her, Fred was having her same problem. That afternoon he produced next to nothing, because his brain was too preoccupied with trying to push thoughts of Avery out of his head to come up with new gadget ideas.

He couldn’t explain the feeling that had washed over him when he saw her fall. It felt like the life on the line was his. And when he saw that she was okay… how his hand seemed to find its way around hers of its own accord… and the way his heart had skipped a beat when she squeezed back…

Fred shook his head. No. He couldn’t. It was simply not possible.

He assumed he just felt overwhelmed because his best friend had almost died at the hands of his brother and he was just feeling a rush of gratitude that she was alive and he could spend many more years being friends with her.

 The days went on, spent playing Quidditch, reading books in the sun, running after gnomes in the garden on Mrs. Weasley’s orders, playing games and pranks on each other. It was, however, becoming apparent to everyone but Fred and Avery that the two of them shared a special connection. They’d both been caught stealing looks multiple times and, though maybe they’d failed to notice, they were always putting more effort into messing with one another than with everyone else whenever they played games or had water fights. No one, including George, dared to say anything, in fear of ruining everything.

One night they were all having dinner in the garden outside, trying to ward off the heat of a particularly warm day.

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley” Avery smiled as the woman set a bowl of salad in front of the girl.

Everyone was deep in conversation, and after receiving her salad Avery, too, dived back into the discussion she was having with Hermione about a movie they’d both seen while at home with their parents.

“The way they portray his addiction is so accurate that it actually made me uncomfortable at one point. And the photography! God, the photography,” Avery was saying.

Fred was only half-listening to whatever Hermione replied. Leaning back in his chair, he heard the numerous dialogs surrounding him distantly, yet the one thing he was able to focus on was the passion the girl in front of him could convey while talking about something as ordinary as a film. Her excitement was contagious; Fred felt himself smile whenever Avery smiled and had the urge to laugh whenever she laughed. He wasn’t participating in the conversation and he wasn’t even fully listening, yet he was amazed at the complexity of Avery’s thought on topics and feelings she hadn’t experienced directly.

She was unlike anyone he’d ever met before, and he’d always known that; since the day they’d crossed paths all those years ago he had been aware just how special this girl was, and yet it wasn’t until now that he felt it inside of him.

“Are you enjoying the view?” George asked. Fred gave a start and turned his head to look at his brother.

“What do you mean?” he played dumb.

George pursed his lips, studying Fred, who was now suddenly very interested in the salad in front of him. “You’ve been distracted all day,” George stated.

Fred didn’t reply, and George didn’t push it. Within seconds Fred was back to his usual bubbly self and they dived into a discussion on how to best mess with Harry and Ron before the holidays were over.

 Later that night, Avery left the other two girls alone in their room to go brush her teeth; when she came back from the washroom she found Ginny and Hermione sitting on Ginny’s bed, heads close together as they whispered animatedly. They stopped talking the moment they noticed Avery was back.

The brunette snorted and crossed her arms. “What was that about?”

Hermione cleared her throat, then shot a look at Ginny, who nodded, and spoke: “Is there anything going on with you and Fred?”

Avery stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, then burst into laughter. “What the hell are you on about? Me and Fred? No way.” All lies.

“Oh, come on, how stupid do you think we are?” Ginny blurted. “And don’t look at me like that!”

“We see the way you two look at each other!” Hermione hastened to give reason to their argument. “And while you may say you have no feelings for him whatsoever…”

“…which we don’t believe,” Ginny added.

“Yes – you can’t say he doesn’t have feelings for you. That’s just being naïve, Avery.”

Avery sat down at the end of Ginny’s bed. “You two are mental; I’m just as close with George.”

“When you fell off your broom,” Hermione started, but Avery interrupted.

“More like, when Percy threw me off my broom,” she said with a scoff.

Hermione ignored her. “When you fell off your broom,” she repeated, looking for Ginny’s nod of approval once more. “George, of course, was very worried, as was everyone else – but no one in the same way as Fred. He crashed himself just to try and break your fall!”

“Not to mention,” Ginny hesitated a bit. “did you not see the way he was looking at you at dinner? I swear he was only a step away from getting on one knee and proposing marriage to you! And,” she hastened to add before Avery could respond. “we saw him hold your hand.”

It had now become harder for Avery to lie. How could she argue with that?

Avery slipped in her bed, ready for the conversation to be over. “I really appreciate you bothering to talk to me about it, but honestly, there’s nothing going on. Why would I say that if it wasn’t true?”

“Because you’re scared. Because Fred and George have been your best friends for five years and you can’t understand why you’re developing feelings for one of them just now, and you’re afraid you’re going to mess up your whole friendship. And maybe even because you don’t want George to feel left out.” Hermione had hit the jackpot, no doubt because she had some experience in the department herself.

“Just think about it, please. That’s all we ask,” Ginny added. “We only want you to be happy.”

Avery nodded, if nothing to get them off her back, and smiling at her two friends she laid down and pretended to sleep.

Out of the corner of an eye she saw Hermione give Ginny a knowing look, but neither said anything as they got under their covers and turned the light off.

 “Good morning!” Mrs. Weasley greeted when Avery walked into the kitchen, the last of them all. “I take it you slept well?”

Avery smiled and nodded, then proceeded to sit next to George, who handed her the plate with the toast without her having to ask.

Mr. Weasley was sitting at one end of the table, The Daily Prophet opened in front of his face.

“Anything good going on, Dad?” Ron asked.

“Not really, no. The Prophet tends to report only minor news these days.” He shot a look at Harry, then smiled at Ron. “Are you guys excited to be going back soon?”

Avery’s eyes shot open and she nearly spilled the contents of her mug on her lap. “What day is it today?” she asked.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley chuckled. “It’s August 29th, dear. Only a couple days left,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Ah, to be young and having fun and forget to keep track of time!” said Mr. Weasley, a longing look in his eye. He closed the Prophet and got up. He kissed his wife’s cheek, waved good-bye at the table and left for work.

“On that note, I’m going to be visiting Diagon Alley tomorrow to pick up school supplies. Does anyone want to come?”

Everyone cheered excitedly – who doesn’t love Diagon Alley?

“Oh, yes, ice-cream!” George beamed.

 The last match of their tournament took place that morning. The ranking read as following: Harry, Fred, Avery, George, Ginny and Ron.

Harry and Fred were only twenty points apart, and Avery was only five points short of Fred.

“If I beat both of you,” Avery announced as the players rose above the field. “I want ice-cream. Loads of it.”

Harry laughed, thinking she was joking. Fred, however, knew how serious she got about her ice-cream. “And if you don’t?” he asked.

Avery scoffed. “You can have whatever you want. It’s not like it’s going to happen, anyway.”

“Ave, are you sure your neck is going to be able to handle such a big head?” George called, making everyone laugh, Avery included.

“Well, if your neck has handled yours, I don’t see why I should worry.”

They settled in their places: on one end of the field were Ginny, Chaser; Ron, Seeker; and Avery, Keeper. One the other, Harry, Chaser; George, Seeker; and Fred, Keeper.

It was a long, hard-fought match. Ginny was on fire, scoring goal after goal to the sound of Avery cheering and chanting her name from the other side of the field. However, Harry was just as fiery.

George’s team was at one-hundred-and-twenty points, while Avery’s was at one-hundred-and-ten when Ron spotted something hovering several metres off the ground. He shot in the direction of the Snitch, Fred following suit.

Avery didn’t notice until Ginny yelled: “Yes, Ron!”

But Fred was closing in on his brother.

“Ron, I’ll kill you!” Avery shrieked.

Ron, who had heard Avery bet with Fred and Harry, was aware she would most likely follow up on her promise. The knowledge seemed to give him the boost he needed, and he sprinted the last few metres until his fingers closed in on the Golden Snitch.

“YES! YES! I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley!” Avery cheered. The only reason she wasn’t doing somersaults on her broom was the memory of what had happened the last time she’d flown too high.

They all landed back to the ground, Avery and Ginny attempting, unsuccessfully, to lift Ron on their shoulders. The three of them fell over and rolled on the grass in a fit of laughter.

“She’s never going to let us forget this, is she?” Harry asked Fred as they watched.

Fred shook his head. “She’s most definitely not.”

“I win! You lose! Ha!” Avery jumped to her feet. “Free ice-cream!”

 As predicted, Avery didn’t let Harry and Fred forget. She and Ginny would break into a little dance every time either of them walked into a room.

After lunch the group split up as always: Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat around the garden with books and games, while Fred, George and Avery, rucksacks on their backs, walked up the hill and disappeared.

“So, George, how does it feel to be in the company of the greatest Quidditch player the Burrow has ever seen?” Avery asked, one arm slung over his shoulder.

“You better hope Charlie doesn’t hear you say that,” George chuckled. “He’d have your head.”

Avery silently agreed. “What do we have left to work on?”

Fred pulled a list from his pocket and scrolled it quickly. “Uh, I have the last few Extendable Ears orders, George has to make Canary Creams and you have Love Potions.”

Being the only one who wasn’t allowed to do magic, Avery was always trusted with potions – which would have happened anyway, seeing as she was the best of the three.

“Then tomorrow we start packing up to take it all to Hogwarts!”

“Mum is probably going to check our trunks before we leave,” Fred pointed out.

“We still have time to figure that bit out,” George said as he opened the door to the shed and the three walked in.

 The following night Avery was submersed in a nightmare that reflected the very roots of her anxieties.

She was happy, just graduated from Hogwarts. As she stepped on the train that would take her home for the last time, she realised there was no home for her to go back to: now she was officially an adult, her parents had left her to fend for herself, and the Weasleys felt no obligation to take an adult into their home. She was alone, with nowhere to go, with no money and no job to earn it. Fred and George were nowhere to be seen, and neither were any of her other friends. All of them had vanished.

A whole compartment to herself, she watched the countryside go by, trying to figure out what her next step should be, but her mind was blank. Suddenly she was sobbing.

The train jolted and Avery woke up. Her face was wet, wrenched in tears that had fallen all the way down to her pillow. There was a heavy weight on her chest, making it hard for her to draw a steady breath, and a pit in her stomach that seemed to get bigger and bigger, as if trying to swallow her whole.

She propped herself up on her elbows and wiped her face attempting to calm down, but her breath was only growing more laboured and the tears were pouring down copiously.

Avery dreaded the thought of Ginny and Hermione waking up to find her in such a state, and to avoid having to deal with that scenario she ripped her blanket away from her bed, draped it around her shoulders and made her way down the stairs on her tiptoes, as quietly as she could on the creaking floorboards.

Once she’d made it downstairs without waking anyone, she sat on the couch in the sitting room and hugged her legs, hiding her body beneath the blanket. She rested her chin on top of her knees and stared straight ahead of her in a feeble attempt to stop the tears free falling from her eyes.

The pit in her stomach was now as deep as ever; it had grown so painful it was making it hard for her to draw breath at all. She wiped her eyes on the blanket and repeated over and over in her head that Fred and George loved her, Ron and Ginny loved her, Harry and Hermione loved her, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley loved her. While she rationally knew it to be true, in that moment, alone in the dark, it was almost impossible to believe.

She tried to console herself by counting, one by one, the months she still had left before she was homeless, all while repeating that her friends would never abandon her.

Avery was too focused on calming down to hear the stairs creaking beneath somebody’s weight: Fred had recognized the footsteps on the stairs as hers and knew something was wrong when he didn’t hear her walk back to her room.

He spotted her trembling frame on the couch.

“Hey,” Fred said to announce his presence.

Avery gave a start and was quick to wipe the tears from her eyes, as if that would prevent Fred from knowing she’d been crying. “Hey,” she whispered, afraid that if she talked any louder her voice would break.

“What are you doing?”

The girl shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Fred went to sit on the opposite end of the couch. “Me neither,” he said, and though it wasn’t entirely true, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now. His heart shattered in his chest when he noticed how swollen her eyes were. He wondered how long she’d been crying.

He moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Avery went stiff at first: she wasn’t used to being emotional in front of other people, and she didn’t like the feeling of vulnerability it gave her. However, once she felt the warmth and sweet scent Fred’s body offered, her muscles relaxed and she leaned into his embrace, tugging on the blanket wrapped around her so it was covering the boy’s legs. As Avery lowered her face so it was hidden in Fred’s chest, her breath evened out and the stream of tears became scarcer.

They sat for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s silent company, before Avery talked. “You should go back to sleep.” Fred shook his head. “Honestly, you don’t have to worry about me. It was only a bad dream.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Avery sniffed. “Not really,” she said.

“Does it have something to do with your mum and dad?”

“Sort of, yeah,” said Avery, her voice so low that it was barely audible, even as the two sat in a completely quiet house.

“You don’t talk about them, Ave. Why?”

“Because there’s nothing to say.”

Fred chuckled. “I never thought I’d hear you say that, Miss Opinionated.”

Avery gave a small smile, though Fred couldn’t see it, remembering how Fred and George used to tease her when they were younger because she was very polemical and would strike up long arguments about the silliest of topics.

“Seriously, though – why do you care so much about them?”

“They’re my parents” she replied matter-of-factly. “If they don’t stick around, then who will?”

Avery was sure that the only reason she was opening up to Fred was that they were in the dark. The fact he couldn’t see her face properly gave her a sense of security, increased by the warmth of the body next to her. She, too, was surprised the words had come out of her mouth.

Fred was left shocked. He always knew his friend had problems with her parents, or else it wouldn’t have been so difficult for her to talk about them, yet he’d never expected her to be afraid of abandonment. He leaned forward so he could look at her face and noticed a fresh set of tears was making its way down her cheeks.

“Ave, I will stick around. Forever,” Fred said, fighting the prickling feeling he now had behind his eyes at the sight of the girl broken in a way he hoped never again to see. “Me, and George, and my parents, and my siblings, and –”

“You say that now,” Avery cut him off.

“No, Avery. I mean it.” The girl didn’t believe him entirely, but felt there was one bit, deep inside of her, that knew he was telling the truth.

“Okay.” Avery nodded. With that, the conversation was over. Though she didn’t feel at peace, the conversation had calmed her down, so much so that within minutes she was asleep.

- 

PART 3

aaaaah i know it’s not the best, it’s my first hp fic so don’t expect too much from me 

tag list: @elf-punk​

[citizenofmars]

The fire it ignites, part 1

repost because i had some issues with the original post

Pairing: Fred Weasley x OC

Harry and Ron were discussing Quidditch schemes at the kitchen table, their mouths full of toast. They looked quite ridiculous as a waterfall of breadcrumbs came pouring from their lips with every word, but Hermione didn’t have the heart to tell them to swallow before they talked, as it was Harry’s first day at the Burrow and the boys were reasonably excited. She instead exchanged a look with Ginny, who was sitting on her right, and they both stifled a laugh.

The smile faded from Ron’s face as he stretched his ears to listen to the laughter coming from outside. When Harry failed to notice and kept talking, Ron shushed him.

“Ronald!” Ginny reprimanded her brother.

“Oh, quit it. You’re not going to overhear anything. If they don’t want you to know, then you’re not going to know!” said Hermione, before she turned to Harry to explain. “Avery’s been here for most of the summer, and apparently she and the twins are up to something, but they won’t tell him what it is and it’s driving Ron insane,” she explained.

“There’s nothing wrong with being curious!” Ron defended himself. “They disappear for hours on end somewhere behind the hills, and sometimes when they come back they smell weird or have odd stains on their clothes! They told Mum they have discovered their love for hiking, but I don’t think she believes it either.”

Harry had no time to ask questions or voice his support of Ron’s curiosity – in fact, he was now interested himself – as the door to the garden slammed open, seemingly of its own free will, to let in a pair of identical flaming-red heads and a third brunette girl, considerably shorter than the other two, all three struggling not to double over in laughter.

“Fred! I told you to stop doing that! You’re gonna tear it off its hinges!” Mrs. Weasley yelled from the other room, but none of the three heard her, busy as they were wiping tears from their eyes.

“God, I can’t wait to try that on a little Slytherin!” Avery was saying.

“Try what?” Ron asked. Only then did the three notice there were other people in the room.

All four people sitting at the kitchen table were looking at the twins and Avery in utter shock: they were covered head to toe in what looked like rainbow-coloured dirt.

“Welcome home, Harry!” Fred and George said in unison. They ignored Ron’s question and without bothering to clean up they went to sit at the kitchen table to join the others in their afternoon snack. Avery walked around the table and, as she sat in the chair between Harry and Ron, a piece of toast between her teeth, she slapped the back of both their heads.

“Don’t ask” she said, pointing her finger warningly at Ron, who, she could tell, was about to repeat his question. Then she turned to her right and put on the widest smile she could: “Hey, Harry, fancy seeing you here!”

“Hi, Avery” Harry greeted, stifling a laugh. “So, what did I miss while I was at the Dursley’s?”

“Not much,” Fred replied. “We’ve been hiking a lot”. Ron rolled his eyes. “Destroying Ron at Quidditch in our free time.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” Ron objected. “Anyway, now that Harry’s here we can have a proper match.”

“Maybe we can ever get Hermione to play!” Avery winked at the girl sitting across from her, who scoffed in reply. Avery had been trying to get her to play every summer since they’d met, but there was no budging her.

“Thank you, but no thank you. I feel most at home with my feet firmly on the ground.”

“One day I’ll have you on my team. Mark my words.”

The Weasleys and Avery proceeded to tell Harry about the most notable moments of their very own Quidditch tournament, until they were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley, who walked into the kitchen and was shocked to see two of her sons and their friend covered in dirt sitting at the table.

“Fred! George! Oh, Avery, not you too!” Mrs. Weasley yelled as she pointed upstairs, silently telling them to take a bath.

Ginny scoffed: “Don’t be so surprised, Mum. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was a third twin.” Harry smiled, remembering the time in his first year the three of them had made him believe for the entirety of his first Quidditch practice that they were, in fact, triplets.

The three got up from the table, not bothering to conceal their sniggers as George said: “Blimey, that has got to be some sort of record! It took her over fifteen minutes to notice we were filthy!”

 Avery was the last to bathe, which was fine by her because it allowed her to take her sweet time.

As she relaxed, leaning back so that her hair was completely covered by the water, she realised how relieved Harry’s arrival made her feel.

Fred and George had been her best friends since she was a first year and they were in their second year, which was now almost five years ago, and ever since then she’d spend the last week of summer at the Burrow.

This summer, however, she’d only stayed a week with her own family before they’d shipped her off to the Burrow because they had to go on a work trip. The unspoken truth was that they had never truly accepted that their only daughter was a witch, and proud to be one; the more she grew into a young woman, the less she felt welcome in their home. And this summer they hadn’t even bothered trying to hide it. Instead, they packed up and left, shipping her off to the Weasleys’.

The subject of Avery’s family was very taboo, as she didn’t like to talk about it. Not even with Fred and George. Only the twins and their parents knew the real reason why Avery was spending most of the summer with them.

Now that Harry and Hermione were at the Burrow, it was less likely for people to wonder why Avery had been spending her summer with a family other than her own. Furthermore, as horrible as it sounded, Harry’s presence reminded her that she wasn’t the only unwanted child, and that her true family was the one she made for herself. It was easier to keep that in mind when a perfect example of that was in front of her eyes.

Avery thought about her parents a lot, though she wouldn’t have told anyone that. All her life she’d been ‘the tough girl’ – even when she was attending Muggle school – and talking about her feelings or how much it hurt to feel unwanted by the two people who were supposed to love her most clashed with the reputation she’d been upholding successfully for sixteen years.

 Eventually, she rinsed the conditioner out of her long hair and got out of the bathtub. She made her way down the stairs, still drying her hair with a towel, and found the others huddled around the table in the sitting room, Hermione and Percy in two armchairs by the window with books in their laps.

“We’re planning the new Quidditch tournament!” Fred told her excitedly. “You’re with Harry and Ron for the first match, tomorrow morning.”

“We’ll crush you lot” Avery said and raised both palms for her teammates to high-five.

Fred and George raised their eyebrows. “Oh, we’ll see,” they said in unison.

“Anyway,” Ron said loudly, trying to get his brothers to focus on the task at hand again. “The teams and the roles are going to be rotating in a circle. There’s going to be six matches total – that means we each play the same position twice – and the player with the most points at the end of the sixth match wins.”

“Alright, sounds good,” Avery nodded. “What’s the prize?”

“Prize?” George feigned disdain. “No, woman, we play for glory.”

“Whatever floats your boat. You’ll be losing, anyway.” Avery shrugged. “How does the scoring system work?”

“We think we should factor in by how much one team wins over the other,” Harry said. “So we were thinking we take the winning team’s score, subtract the losing team’s, and divide by three.”

“Now, that’s a lot of math” chuckled Fred.

“Don’t worry, honey. Some people here were gifted with a real brain, instead of the walnut you two share,” Avery laughed and gestured toward the twins, who, though they tried, looked everything but offended.

“You know, Avery,” Percy said, lifting his stare from his book for the first time in what to the girl felt like the whole summer. “I wish they weren’t going to make you pay for speaking the truth.”

“She wasn’t talking about you, Perce” Ron muttered.

“He was right about one thing, though…” George said, and he and Fred high-fived.

Avery ignored them and turned back to face Harry. “That sounds perfect. What time do we start?”

 As promised, the next morning they got up and shoved their breakfast down quickly, all too excited for a proper Quidditch match to bother with chewing their toast fully.

They made their way out into the backyard – Hermione following without lifting her eyes from her book – and split into teams: Harry was playing Seeker for their team, while Ron was Keeper and Avery played Chaser; on the other team, Ginny was Seeker, Fred was Chaser and George was Keeper.

The six of them soared into the air on their brooms and Hermione freed the Snitch, then unceremoniously threw the Quaffle in the air and went back to sit in the grass where she’d left her book.

The all played like their honour depended on it, which, in a way, it did; half an hour into the game Harry’s team was winning by only ten points.

Avery had the Quaffle and she was zooming through the field, heading straight toward Fred, who was confused as he couldn’t understand the girl’s tactic. It all made sense when at the very last moment, a quarter of a second before the two Chasers collided, she made a hairpin swerve and dived under her ginger friend, scoring an incredible goal George had not seen coming. Harry and Ron cheered, but all Avery did was turn around and show Fred her tongue.

The boy didn’t take it too well, as he took to chasing her through the sky shouting all the things he would do to make her pay for her cheek. The pair kept flying higher and higher, Avery’s hearty laughter travelling through the air. The others were following them from the ground, palms raised to shield their eyes from the bright August sun and placing quick bets on who would make whom fall off their broom first. Even Hermione had set down her book and was watching the race with an amused smile.

Attracted by the noise, Percy made his way outside of the house and slammed his foot to the ground to show annoyance: they’d disturbed his reading time. However, once he saw what was happening, he forgot all about his book.

“Have you lot gone mad?” he shouted. “The whole village will see you! How many times have Mum and I told you to fly low?” His ears had gone red from the effort of yelling, but he took no notice as he quickly drew his wand from his pocket and flicked it in the direction of the pair, making both brooms freeze into the air. While Fred just barely managed to hold on to his broom, Avery, who, Percy had clearly not considered, was moving much faster, went flying forward, the handle of her broom slipping through her fingers.

All that was seen from the ground was a mass of curly brown hair fall through the air at top speed.

Fred, safe on his broom, saw the scene roll before his eyes in slow-motion. Before he knew it, he was sprinting as he’d never done before, as flat on his broom as his body would let him.

Fred was so low to the ground that he felt his left foot graze the grass and he caught Avery in his arms barely a moment before she crashed. They toppled off the broom, rolling into the grass under everyone’s shocked stare. Colour drained from Percy’s cheeks and ears as he watched the scene in front of him, completely frozen in his spot.

The next second, Fred found himself laying on his back. He scrambled to stand, tripping countless times on his feet, as he looked frantically around him to find the girl. When he did, he sprinted in her direction: she was laying on her side facing away from him, completely motionless. Grass stained her fresh white tank top and blue jean shorts and even from a far Fred could see several scrapes and burns on her naked legs and shoulders caused by the friction against the uneven ground.

“Fuck!” Avery cussed at the top of her voice.

Fred found himself breathing again. He almost wanted to laugh, he was so relieved! He knelt next to her and turned her so she was laying on her back and he could see her face.

“Ave, are you alright?” he asked frantically. The brunette stirred and brought her hands to her face to cover her eyes. At first, Fred thought she would cry, but when she took a single deep lungful of air he knew she was only trying to figure out what had happened.

“What the fuck” she whispered under her breath. As she removed her hands from her face, Fred spotted a cut on her eyebrow.

Avery heard the commotion around her only marginally, not fully registering that the countless curse words being shouted had something to do with her. She lifted herself up on her elbows ignoring the pain in her left shoulder.

“Ave, are you okay?” Fred asked again. His eyes were darting all over the girl’s body, looking of obvious signs that something was wrong.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.” Avery’s mind felt a little fuzzy, and maybe that was the reason her heart skipped a beat when she felt Fred’s hand squeeze hers. “Are you okay?”

“Should we call Mum?” Ron asked hesitatingly, watching a drop of blood drip from Avery’s face down to her shoulder. As much as he felt like ratting out Percy, as he’d spoiled their fun, he had a feeling the consequences would befall on everyone. The rest of the summer would be a bust if they weren’t allowed to play Quidditch anymore.

“No, no. I’m perfectly okay,” Avery brushed him off. “Fred?”

“It wasn’t him who almost fell to his death” George pointed out.

“Oh, shut up” Avery laughed softly and laid back down. Fred let go of her hand, and for a second, though it was the middle of the summer, she missed the feeling of his warm skin against hers.

“I’m fine, George, thank you very much.”

Something finally snapped in Percy, who broke down in an endless sea of apologies. Avery smiled up at him and told him, ignoring George and Ron’s outcry, that it was alright, he hadn’t meant to, it was only an accident. “Just promise you won’t tell your mother.”

Percy nodded, then flicked his wand again to set down the two brooms, and made his way back into the house, his face still the same shade as Nearly Headless Nick.

Avery accepted George’s outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her back to her feet. She brushed some dirt off her clothes and mounted back on her broom, urging everyone to hurry up and finish the game instead of looking at her like that.

Fred shook his head as he joined her in the air, but Avery could see an amused smile etched on his face.

By the time Harry caught the Snitch it was almost lunchtime. The six players, joined by Hermione, laid on their backs in the grass to catch their breath. Avery was laying between the twins, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her skin. Everyone was engulfed in a conversation about what a cloud above them looked like (“No, no, it’s definitely a hippogriff!” Ginny was saying), and they didn’t notice Fred draw closer to Avery. He propped himself on his elbow to able to look at the girl’s face.

“Does that hurt?” he asked.

Avery opened her right eye only slightly. “Does what hurt?”

“The cut on your eyebrow.”

The brunette smiled and reached up to touch the scratch she’d forgotten she had. “No, don’t worry.” She watched Fred watch her for a moment. “Thanks.” Was she blushing?

“Of course.”

Fred felt the urge to reach out his hand to grab the girl’s, the same way he’d done when she had just fallen, but was interrupted by his mother calling for lunch. Everyone, still deep in conversation, got up and walked inside, and Fred quietly followed, wondering what had washed over him.

When Avery sat down at the table, Mrs. Weasley looked at her in disbelief, then Fred, who was just as soiled as her. At first they thought she would end them, but then she chuckled. “The three of you really hate being clean, don’t you?”

Avery smiled as George, who was in fact respectably clean this time around, replied: “Well, where’s the fun in that?”

-

PART 2

the fic has three chapters, which are all already written and will be posted very soon if tumblr behaves. I might add an epilogue, but I’m not sure yet. I hope you like it!

[citizenofmars]

guess who’s back

[fuckliam]

Visit Original Link

PLUG IN YOUR HEADPHONES.

Give Me Love layered FOUR times over itself, alternating in each ear. Enjoy the eargasm. (Download/SoundCloud)

[dwightschrute]

this is what falling in love feels like

[unpleasnt]

i don’t think i’m alive anymore 

GOD BLESS WHOEVER MADE THIS

[winds-of--fortune]

I’m puking this shit’s perfect

[mchashimi]

My soul has left my body, gone to run errands, fallen in love and started a family, and my body is wandering around the desert somewhere. I am not the same woman I was before listening to this.

[golddaggers]

this is perfect

this song

oh my fucking god

my ears are on heaven

[ultrafacts]

Source

For more posts like this, follow the Ultrafacts Blog!

[businessof-misery-]

otters are literally the cutest things in the world

[ultrafacts]

[katou-pitou]

They don’t want to go to the otter side alone

[ultrafacts]

[sparkles-and-trash]

Stalker, Prologue

A Sweet Pea x Reader fanfiction

“tag, you’re it…” 

Warnings: Abusive behavior (stalking), swearing, alcohol, roofies, sexual content in later chapters

Notes: Tag list is still open, let me know if you want to be on it!

Ships: Sweet Pea x Reader, Kevin x Fangs (later chapters), Choni, Bughead, Varchie

Summary: Y/N have been living in the Southside of Riverdale for about six months, but as her recently divorced mother meets a new, wealthy man on the Northside of town that Y/N can’t stand, she finds herself basically living alone in their old house near the trailerpark. Luckily she have her two best friends, Cheryl Blossom and Kevin Keller to keep her company, and a blossoming crush on a certain tall, dark, brooding Serpent boy to keep her busy. But just as her life seems to be getting back on track, she starts getting weird notes, letters and pictures delivered to her, and as the feeling of being followed seems to be very real, she gets help from unexpected places and people to keep her safe, and to find out who is stalking her.

Keep reading

[emma-ofnormandy]

I’ve Got You (SP x Reader)

Prompt: “You’re alright, I’ve got you”

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Word Count: 1214

Warnings: Death of a family member/ funeral

A/N: Because we all need someone to catch us when we fall. I will have my next one posted this coming weekend- it’ll be a part two of sorts to my “Be Careful Out There” prompt. Enjoy!

_______________________________________________

The sun was shining, a warm fall breeze blowing the leaves across the manicured ground. Bells of a nearby church signaled 2:00 as a small collection of patrons gathered around the mahogany colored casket. Some had adorned their best bereavement wear while others settled for more casual. You stood back straight and head held high beside your grieving father and brother, your brother’s quivering shoulders betraying his will to be strong in this moment. Before you could reach to comfort him a large hand squeezed his small shoulder in comfort, the young boy’s back straightening slightly at the contact.

Pulling your eyes from the casket, your eyes met the somber gaze of Sweet Pea. A weak smile and a slight tilt of your head was all you could manage before turning back as the minister’s melancholy words began, Sweet Pea’s hand skimming up and down your back in an attempt to comfort. Your fingers toyed with the stem of the Calla Lily in your hand, your thoughts beginning to wander as the service continued in the background.

It happened on a Tuesday, you’d been with Sweet Pea at the Wyrm. Toni and you had been talking about a concert that was coming to town and the boys were playing pool when the hospital called your cell phone, you were needed at Riverdale General and that there had been an accident but they couldn’t tell you more. You had grabbed your bag in a panic, Toni hollering to Sweet Pea and Fangs that they needed to go. You’d been struggling with the lock to the car when the rest of them had caught up to you, Sweet Pea taking the keys from your shaking hands. “You’re not driving like this, get in the passenger seat” his tone was soft but left no room for argument, Fangs and Toni piling into the back seats.

The ride had been silent, Sweet Pea pushing the old vehicle to it’s limits to get you there as fast as possible. Your hands continued to shake, fear and adrenaline coursing through you. As soon as he had pulled up to the front door, you were out like a flash headed through them to figure out what was going on. By the time you had reached the ER your father was there, your brother holding onto him for dear life. “Didn’t make it…. Did all we could… I’m so sorry” was all you caught of the doctor’s words, heavy footsteps and rustling leather told you the three Serpents had made it into the waiting room with you. “Dad?” you asked, voice trembling slightly. Your father’s watery gaze met yours, his control wavering “Your mother….. Drunk driver…” inhaling sharply trying to control his words “We’ve lost her”.

You could feel your heart skip a beat in your chest, a hollow feeling fill in your stomach, the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. Toni’s soft gasp and a mutter of curses from Sweet Pea brought you back; walking towards your father he pulled you into a hug, his tears falling freely while your eyes couldn’t seem to muster any.

A light touch to your waste brought your attention back to the service and the minister’s closing remarks signaled the end. Your father stepped forward to place a rose on your mother’s casket, kissing the cold vessel before he turned towards the waiting vehicles. You and your brother followed, the Calla Lily’s white petals a stark contrast to the darker wood. Tenderly, to ensure your heels didn’t sink into the soft earth, you followed behind your brother as Sweet Pea’s hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you towards your father.

As the rest of the mourners paid their respect, you ushered your father and brother into the car. “Thank you” you murmured as you turned to face your boyfriend, “There is a reception at the house that I need to take care of but I’ll call you later”. “I’ll see you at the house”, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You don’t need to. You’ve done more than…” “This isn’t a negotiation. I will see you at the house”, Sweet Pea placed a chaste kiss to your forehead before turning to head towards where Toni and Fangs were waiting.

The reception was a blur, people came and went most of the afternoon. Toasts were made in your mother’s honor and stories of better times floated through the house. You kept yourself busy making sure buffet trays were kept full, the beer cooler cold and trash picked up. People from school had stopped by share their condolences, Betty and Jughead staying to talk with Fangs and Toni while Archie and the Lodges just made it known they showed before taking their leave. Sweet Pea was ever vigilant, his towering frame not far from you but allowing you to go about what you needed to in order to get through the day.

The lasts of the guests began to filter out just after dark, your patience for the sorry looks and sympathy words reaching its end. Your brother’s slumped frame grabbed your attention, your father haggard appearance no better. “Why don’t you take him on up and get some rest yourself”, motioning towards your brother. “You’ve done too much as it is. I can’t let you…” your dad’s strained voice pulling at the hollow feeling that had sat in your stomach for a week now, “Sweet Pea is still here, he’ll help me get the last of it cleaned up. Don’t worry”. Kissing your dad on the cheek you headed towards the kitchen, grabbing the two trash bags that sat by the stairs on your way. Shuffling from the chair told you that your dad had heeded your advice, “Good night hun, don’t stay up too late. Thank you Sweet Pea” he called as he carried your brother to his room. “You’re welcome sir”, Sweet Pea coming to stand in the kitchen doorway.

Sweet Pea took the trash bags from your grip as you passed, your brows quirking. “Don’t worry, there is a box of bottles for you to take to the recycling” motioning with his head towards the collection on the kitchen table. Grabbing the box, you started through the back door towards the side of the garage with Sweet Pea hot on your heels.

Heels long forgotten, the grass was cold against your feet. The chill of the evening breeze a welcoming feeling against your skin, the house had stifling to you, all the people mingling and food cooking most of the day. Stopping for a moment you inhaled deeply, the smell of rain not to far in the distance. “You ok?” Sweet Peas voice breaking the still evening. “Yeah, I’m good” making your feet move again towards the small building in the back.

Trash dumped, you turned to head back out of the garage when a shimmer of blue caught your attention. It was your mother’s bike. Your breathing hitched first, your hands starting to shake as you reached to run your fingers along the cool metal. She had loved this bike, rode it everywhere when the weather allowed it. It was a stupid reaction you told yourself, it was just a stupid bike, but the tears started to leak and your shoulders started to shake. Heavy foot falls reminded your clouded brain that you weren’t alone in the garage, Sweet Pea’s large hands pulling you towards him.

Cradling your head in the crook of your shoulder, he molded you against him as one his his hands ran the length of your back while the other held you tight. His baritone voice murmured against your hair “You’re alright. I’ve got you”, the hollow feeling in your stomach starting to fade as his words echoed in your heart.

[citizenofmars]

I’m not usually into the super sad stuff but man, the way this is written is everything I could ever ask from an imagine

[slavicafire]

“hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

given how Americanized this site is, it’s important to celebrate all our countries and nationalities - with all their quirks and vices and ridiculousness, and all that might seem strange to outsiders.

1. favourite place in your country?

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

3. does your country have access to sea?

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

5. favourite song in your native language?

6. most hated song in your native language?

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

11. favourite native writer/poet?

12. what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

17. are you interested in your country’s history?

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?

20. which sport is The Sport in your country?

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

27. favourite national celebrity?

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

[citizenofmars]

Feelings from a year ago have come back. I feel empty, uneasy, like something I need is out of my reach but I can almost touch it with the tip of my finger.

It hurts, but what makes me twice as upset is the fact that I seriously, genuinely thought I was over this.

They came out of nowhere and I can’t shake them off even though I know they’re completely irrational and there is *nothing* that I can do to make the situation better.

[citizenofmars]

Someone please get me free plane tickets to New York City, I’d appreciate it

[citizenofmars]

Masterlist

RIVERDALE

“You said I’d always be your only man” (Archie)

She’s on my mind (Archie)

Panic (Archie)

“You’re drunk, Archie” (Archie)

“I wanna be able to call you mine” (Jughead)

Reggie’s sister has a secret relationtship with Sweet Pea and they get caught (Sweet Pea)

Will you give me one more chance? (Sweet Pea)

Foreign (Sweet Pea)

A train crash (Sweet Pea)

Sweet Pea and children

ACROSS THE DEEP (Sweet Pea x OC)

Chapter one

Chapter two

5SOS

THE 100 

You get hurt (Jasper, Bellamy, Murphy, Octavia)

I just need a cuddle (Bellamy)

They help you through a nightmare (Octavia, Jasper, Bellamy, Monty)

 You pass out (Murphy / Bellamy / Jasper)

Shirtsleeves (Bellamy)

 “Because I like you, goddammit!” (Murphy)

 “Just breathe” (Murphy)

 “If I was to get another moment with her, I would tell her I love her” (Murphy)

Ten years (Bellamy)

PTSD (Bellamy)

Deal (Murphy)

The guy who used to beat you up on the Ark gets to Arkadia with Farm Station (Bellamy)

Modern AU - you meet at a party and get drunk (Murphy)

Am I in love with you or am I in love with the feeling? (Bellamy)

Drunken one night stand (Bellamy)

Imagine Murphamy having to push aside their hatred for each other to help you

Dating John Murphy

-gifsets

“It’s our paradise and it’s our war zone” (PILLOWTALK - zayn)

“Thanks for the memories” (linctavia; Thnks fr th Mmrs - Fall Out Boy)

request || submit

[citizenofmars]

I feel like at this point I’m the only one who doesn’t have tumblr friends and I’m 99.9% sure I’m missing out on something pretty flippin’ great but what can I say, I’m so awkward that I can’t even make friends online

[milkandhoneyoongi]

Mobile Masterlist

Imagines:

Archie:

The Culprit : The reader has been stealing some things recently, and after a playful investigation, she’s convicted of her crime. (Fluff)

May I have this drink? : A post-win party is the perfect opportunity to let loose, however Archie is unable to do so as you go a little overboard and he spends the night taking care of you.  (Fluff)

Muse : You have a big art assignment to work on, but your assistant wants to take you away from your work for a little while.

To know you : You have to make a delivery for your father, running into someone who had been wanting to see you anyway.

Lost and found : A late night run-in with a dog leaves you in a frightening car accident.  You’re not hurt, but that could never stop Archie from worrying.  

Game day : Who ever said you needed to be a River Vixen to be a quarterback’s biggest supporter?

Terrors : The fear of your small town being entirely changed eats you alive, but having Archie makes the weight easier to bear.

Take care of you : While you may be insecure in needing his help for even the most mundane tasks, Archie insists he’ll always be there for you.

Always : He’d always do what’s best for you, even if you were sure you could do it yourself.

Jughead

Surprise : The reader is on edge after the murder of Jason Blossom, but so is Jughead, both of you afraid of one thing: losing you. (Fluff)

The weight of it all : You start finally realizing how quickly you sweet hometown was falling to shambles, losing control in the process.  Jughead has always been there to help you keep it together, and today is no different.

Because he loves me : You were raised on the idea that they yelled because they loved you, and he was determined to change that.

Family drama : Family drama makes your transition into your place at Riverdale High especially difficult, but someone is determined to make it a little easier.  

Riverdale dream : You’d wanted things to be discreet, but nobody could stop you from sticking up for your boy.

Unlikely duo : Seeing Jughead at a pep rally was a rarity.  And willingly?  Only for you.

Late nights : After a few weeks of seeing Jughead working from a far, he seeks you out himself.

Veronica

Winding down : After a long game, there’s nothing you want more than to spend the night with your girlfriend winding down.

Sweet Pea

Get to you : What you and Sweet Pea had was something only the two of you would understand, but it was everything you needed.

Hellish : A brief encounter with some ass at a bar just affirms all of Sweet Pea’s fears of losing you to someone else, but you’re determined to convince him otherwise.

Good one : You could always identify more with the Southside but it wasn’t until Jughead found his place there that you got your invite, and how well you got along with a certain someone surprises everyone.

Right here : The Southside high raid is chaotic in concept as it is, but when you get mixed up in other business, you’ll need more than force of will to save yourself. 2

My type : Sweet Pea never saw himself as the type of guy to listen to classical music, but when it’s you behind the song, he’d listen forever.

Target : With the Black Hood putting a target on your back, Sweet Pea can’t help but be nervous, and he has every right to be.

There’s a first time for everything : Your clumsiness isn’t always a bad thing.

Because of you : You have always had a complicated relationship with your mother, and Sweet Pea has always been there by your side.

Sweater weather : Even though you and Sweet Pea have a very intimate relationship, you didn’t quite understand the weight of what he was hiding from you.

Play with fire : You were crazy, but he’s always kiss your lips even if they were caked with blood.

Toni Topaz

Candid : Your girlfriend Toni wants you, her muse, as a subject of her photography since the beginning of your relationship, but it may take a bit of tough love to get you to believe you’re worthy.

Headcanons:

dating veronica lodge would include

dating jughead jones would include

sharing a bed with archie andrews would include