I Wanna Drown In Literature And Forget I Actually Exist

I wanna drown in literature and forget I actually exist

Heya! I just wanna say I'm in love with your blog, you're an amazing writer and you're in all the fandoms I'm in, which basically makes your blog my paradise. You're immensely talented, keep writing like a pro! :)

Wow, thank you so, so much for your wonderfully kind words, I'm unable to find words to express my gratitude because there's just too much of it. Thank you again!

The Yule Ball

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word Count: 1,266

Summary: Can I have a Fred Weasley one where we always fight (not dating) but we only fight because we secretly like each other and when it's the Yule Ball there is this guy who is new and he is a player and he asks me and at the Ball he is really touchy and I don't want it and Fred sees it and fights him and in the end with a lot of fluff and confessing our love.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Request for @anyfandomimaginex I hope it’s what you wanted! ^_^

“You two! Could you please stop? You’re making too much noise and I’m trying to study over here. Some of us actually want to pass our exams with good grades,” you said in a whisper-shout, folding your arms on your chest and glaring at the offending red-headed boys who were standing in the library, looking up explosive spells and trying them out on small objects. Colourful smoke was drifting up from what had once been flowerpots and old quills and the table was dotted with ash of all colours. No other student was glaring at them because they were all very fond of the twin brothers but you, as a Prefect, felt the need to tell them off as the library was for studying and not experimenting around with strange spells.

One of the two brothers -Fred, you knew, because he was the only one of the two who ever fought with you- stepped forward and fixed you with a harsh glare. “Oh, it’s little miss Prefect again,” he said, rolling his eyes. He was about to say something else when George grabbed his forearm and gathered all their stuff. “Don’t bother, Fred. Let’s go continue at the Common Room,” he told his brother and hurried off. Fred cast one last look at you before following his brother outside. A part of you was disappointed at that, but you had never actually allowed yourself to admit that perhaps you didn’t really dislike him.

You sighed and decided to get back to studying but instead, you found yourself thinking about the Yule Ball the next week. You didn’t have a date for it, and you weren’t planning on getting one, though you and a couple of your girl friends from your house, who also didn’t have anyone to go with had decided to go for fun, not really expecting to be asked to dance with anybody. Still, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you weren’t going to miss it. That evening, after having mostly finished your homework for almost the whole week, you got up and headed to the Great Hall for dinner. On your way there though, a rather cute brown-haired boy wearing the blue Beauxbatons uniform stopped you. He looked rather confident in himself but his words, in perfectly good, if slightly accented English, were shy.

“Bonsoir, mademoiselle. You’re Y/n, right?” he asked you with a blinding grin on his face, though he was blushing a bit nervously. You nodded in response. “I’m Marc. I’m from Beauxbatons, as you can see. And I wanted to ask you... will you be my date for the Ball? I have seen you around, and I think you are very pretty and smart, and it would be my honour if you said yes,” he said. You found his slight French accent cute, and he was rather handsome as well.

Thinking yourself lucky, you smiled right back at him. “Of course, Marc! I’d love to,” you said and he beamed at you before bidding you a good night and hurrying off to dinner.

You spent the rest of the week talking with your friends about the Ball, laughing with them and smiling at Marc whenever you saw him walking around the corridors. All that kept you busy and, thankfully -or not, you weren’t sure- away from the Weasley brothers, and especially Fred.

The night of the Yule Ball you were excited. You felt particularly beautiful in your long blue dress and you were smiling as you descended the countless staircases and traversed the many corridors to reach the Great Hall, outside of which Marc was waiting, dressed in dark blue wizarding robes.

He offered his elbow at you and you hooked your arm through it, beaming up at him as you entered the Great Hall, which looked absolutely beautiful as it was adorned in winter decorations.

You didn’t have a lot of time to appreciate everything though, as you eventually felt a hand trailing up your arm, touching your shoulders. You turned around to see Marc there and you glared at him, shrugging his hand off. You thought that was a one-time-only thing but, eventually, you felt his hands on you again, this time touching your waist and stomach and arms, and you really didn’t like it. You made it obvious and you tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Hey, mate, don’t,” you heard a familiar voice say and both you and Marc turned to meet the glare of Fred Weasley. A glare, which, for once, wasn’t directed to you but instead to the French boy touching you. He looked quite intimidating but Marc didn’t move an inch.

“She’s my date,” he said with a shrug and you were about to retort that you were your own person and, given the opportunity to reach for your wand, you could hex him into the next century, but Fred spoke first.

“The fact that she’s your date doesn’t mean that you can do whatever you want to her! She’s a wonderful girl, intelligent and talented and amazing, and she’s not an object for you to touch against her will. So back off, before I make you,” he said, retrieving his wand from a pocket of his robes and pointing it squarely at the French boy’s chest. Marc seemed scared off and, when you elbowed him in the ribs, he hurried off, not looking back.

Fred immediately walked up to you and grabbed hold of your hands tenderly. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you or do anything bad to you?” he asked worriedly, his brown eyes locking with yours.

You found yourself unable to move away. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. And no. No, he didn’t hurt me,” you mumbled, though you were still feeling a bit uneasy. He noticed that and worriedly chewed on his lower lip.

“Would you mind if I hugged you?” he asked tentatively and you nodded your assent at that. Gently, he put his arms around you and hugged you close to him. “That idiot will never touch you again. If you see him again you should curse him, hex him, do something!” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded. “Yes, I will. He just caught me off guard this time and I didn’t know how to react,” you explained. “But... why do you care so much? I thought you disliked me,” you added.

He pulled away from the hug and stopped chewing nervously on his lip. “I, uh... Well, no, I don’t dislike you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I like you -too much- and when I saw that bloody bastard -pardon my language- touching you like that, I saw red. I couldn’t not do that, I hope you understand,” Fred said. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I’m not expecting that, because I’m definitely not your type and-” You cut him off by grabbing hold of his shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss. It was short and chaste, but it was enough to shut him up.

“What?” he asked rather stupidly, and you giggled.

“I like you too,” you said with a silly grin on your face before leaning closer to him again and capturing his lips with yours in a kiss that was, this time, long and made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

When you pulled away to breathe, he grinned a beautiful smile at you and grabbed your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“What do you say we end the night on a high note? Let’s have some fun!”

Harry Potter is like the gateway fandom. You start reading the books, then all of the sudden you have a sonic screwdriver, you want to go to Rivendell, and you have this awkward fascination with Sherlock Holmes. And you don’t really know how any of it happened, but you’re pretty sure it started with Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley of Four Privet Drive who were proud to say that they were perfectly normal thank you very much.

Day Off

Pairing: James McAvoy x reader

Word Count: 565

The Request: Can I have another James McAvoy where we are both busy with work and stuff and one day we have a day off and we have a day together and it's all fluff.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: For @anyfandomimaginex, hope you like it!

“So, I have a day off today,” James told you over breakfast with a grin, and you smiled back at him.

 “Finally, after so many months, so do I,” you said with an equally bright smile. You were happy because you hadn’t spent any quality time with the actor for over three months now. Your interactions were limited to goodnight kisses before, exhausted, you went to sleep and hurried texts during the day. It was logical to be excited that day and to want to spend it all together.

“Well,” he said, “I was thinking maybe we could cook together then have lunch, watch a movie now go for a walk later, when it’s dark outside?” he suggested, and you shrugged.

“Sure, but don’t we usually do the opposite? What’s the point of going out at night?” you asked.

“I want us to see the stars,” he replied with a smile, and you chuckled. Sometimes, he was so sweet and romantic, and you felt like you were falling for him all over again.

You cooked together, laughing at almost every step of the way as you both tried to follow the recipe. Soon, the house smelled deliciously like food and it was lunch time. The kitchen was quiet, void from words, as you ate, but you were looking at each other with your gaze so intense that it was almost as if you were speaking.  

After that, you watched the movie curled up next to James on the couch, his arm around your shoulders holding you close as you watched the screen and sneaked kisses in between bites of pop corn. When the movie was over, you just sat on the sofa and kissed him like there was no tomorrow for an hour or so.

“I think we’d better go soon if we want to be back before midnight,” he said eventually, reluctantly pulling away from your kisses.

You both grabbed your coats and put on your shoes before leaving the house. Immediately, he grabbed your hand with his and traced patterns on the back of your palm with his thumb. You walked and walked and walked, sometimes using the public transport to move quicker, talking about everything and anything, laughing and kissing, until you were far enough away from the lights of the city so you could see the night sky, endless and blue, stretching above you.

“That over there is Ursa Major,” James said, pointing up at a constellation that kind of looked like a kite. “It’s the only one I know how to recognise,” he added with a chuckle.

He continued looking up at the sky while you just stared at him, and when he commented on the beauty of the sky, you couldn’t help but kiss him softly, because he himself was so beautiful and his eyes were bluer than the sky itself, with just as many colours included. And he, unlike the sky, was there on the ground with you, and you were happy.

“I wish we had days like this more often,” you murmured, and he nodded.

“Yes, me too,” James said before leaning forward to capture your lips with his in a kiss that would make you miss him so much more the following days. It was a kiss that made you hungrier for more instead of satisfied. You loved him, and you loved spending time with him.

Happy 35th Birthday Tom Hiddleston! (February 9, 1981)

Our job is to represent the truth of human nature, whether you’re playing a tender love story that’s set in a coffee shop or whether you’re in ‘The Avengers,’ which is set in a Manhattan which is exploding.