When You Think Of Perception, There’s A Million Versions Of Yourself Out There That People Think Are

Ok, I'm not okay. I just saw someone on TikTok saying that the worst thing is that we'll keep getting older, but the fictional characters we love won't grow, they will stay their age.

So I just realized that Edmund was 18-19 in the last book of the chronicles of Narnia and I'm 17 rn. I will be 18 next year and then 19 soon. Now I just wanna cry in my bed.

Chaos Theory

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader, Reader x [redacted], Reader x [redacted] ;)

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 3350

A/N: Finally, it’s here. After much planning and many, many drafts, it’s here. I want to state for the record that this is going to be full blown fic, I’ve already got a heap of chapters planned and three have already been written. Also, things are not what they seem. There will be twists and turns and love interests pouring out from the earth because I’m That Bitch. I’m also a sucker for drama. Anyway, enjoy chapter one!!

Chapter One                                                              

Like most complicated things in life, this story starts with a boy, a secret and a smile.

Even in retrospect, they seem like they’ve been scribbled on a scrap piece of paper and blindly plucked from a nice, big bowl of what-else-can-the-universe-thrust-at-me for the sake of twisted arbitrary, but not everything is as it seems, and everything seems ridiculous and inconvenient. But, at the same time, maybe you should have seen this coming. Maybe you should have predicted the shit storm that was going to spin your life into vertigo, like the earth has been tipped off its axis, latitude and longitude slipping and colliding while the corners of the map fade to ash.

It happens, as you would later realize with an impending sense of doom, like this:

In the summer of 1994, you and your friends stumble through the forest, looking for an old boot.

The forest breathes a cool sigh of air against your cheeks as you wander past the trees, eyes glued to the ground for the boot. Every time your mind drifts to the Quidditch World Cup, the excitement begins to bubble up inside your stomach and you can’t fight back the smile that spreads across your face whenever you reflect on the past few days. Staying at the Burrow was always like an improved version of home, but this time, it’s different somehow.

Perhaps it’s the freedom of staying somewhere that isn’t your home. Not that your place isn’t comfortable; you don’t think anyone could deem a Victorian mansion with sprawling, manicured lawns ‘uncomfortable’. But it’s starting to feel more like a sad skeleton with marble walls for skin instead of a home, especially with your father always working and your brother, Luke, staying with his Slytherin friends for the summer.

There’s something about the company, too, that makes this moment so special. Being reunited with the Weasley family and being welcomed into their home is always like visiting relatives. And there’s always something to catch up on with Hermione. Then there’s Harry…

You glance at Harry, who is sifting through the leaves beside you. He’s talking about…something…one hand jammed into the pocket of his jeans, the other swinging by his side, and it’s somewhat refreshing to see Harry so relaxed, so undeniably Harry. Warmth thrums through your veins like honey and you can’t help but smile as you regard him fondly in the late morning sun.

It’s been a while since you’ve shared a moment alone with your best friend. Usually, you’re joined by Ron and Hermione, but they’re currently preoccupied with a debate over…whatever they debate over. You can actually hear them bickering; Hermione’s voice tight and shrill and Ron’s sarcastic remarks muffled by the distance between you and them.

With the sound of their bickering in the background, and the warmth of Harry’s presence forming a bubble around you, the urge to chisel ‘I love my friends’ onto every single rib in your ribcage floods you like a wave of sunlight. It’s essentially how you feel when you’re not saving Hogwarts from corrupt teachers and giant basilisk or helping innocent fugitives escape the kiss of a Dementor. And moments like these remind you just how fortunate you are to have found your friends.

Keep reading

cinemagraph artist: kitchenghosts

A Snowy Day With Edmund Would Include...

A/N: SHIT I FORGOT IT WAS DECEMBER ENJOY THE START OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

Edmund gets cold easily but also loves the snow because he thinks it’s pretty

almost as pretty as you

You both would wake up early in the morning from the light streaming in through the windows

“Mmgh.. Bunny, close the blinds.”

“I didn’t open them, Ed.”

Once you and Edmund opened your eyes and peeked out the window, you two would see snow falling with no ground to be seen

Your eyes would light up at the sight while squeezing Edmund’s arm

“We have to go outside and make a snowman!”

“What are we? Five?”

“Yes!”

After you and Edmund get dressed and you dragged him outside, you would instantly sink into the soft yet freezing snow because of how deep it was

edmund wearing 6 layers of clothes

“Cold!”

“Darling, it’s snow!”

Edmund would laugh at you and help you out of the snow

edmund would be mesmerized about how you looked in the snow

Edmund throwing a snowball at you while started the snow man

You would look over and see Edmund acting totally oblivious

“Edmund!”

“What?”

“You know what.”

Kisses

Once you two finished the snowman, you would snatch Edmund’s hat and put it on

“Edmund Jr.”

“You couldve named him that without taking my hat, love.”

“Oh, stop whining.”

Once you two went inside, you would go to the library and sit by the fire to warm up

Edmund would bring you into his chest and pull a blanket over you two

“Your hands are like ice!”

“Well we were just outside.”

Kissing Edmund’s hands so they can ‘warm up’

The rest of the day would be spent cuddling, reading books, and drinking tea

Bonus!

Lucy walking into the library to see you and Edmund asleep on the small couch with the blankets and books scattered across the floor

“Aw... I have to get Susan. She’ll love this!”

ATTENTION WATTPAD USERS AND NON-WATTPAD USERS!!

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This is really serious case! Website called teenfic.net is actively pirating every book from wattpad probably including yours.

The worst thing about this is that everyone can just copy your hard work and claimed it us theirs. Go and try yourself. Just ctrl C, ctrl V random fic, book there (which you can't do on wattpad). You can also find yourself, by tipping your nickname (i did that and all my published books are there).

Those books are mine and all of them have copyright policy on!

What they're doing is ILLEGAL!! And you can help to stop it!

Change.org

Sign the Petition

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This is a petition to shut down this website. It's completely free and will help a lot of creators, our whole country here! So don't wait and sing this petition to stop piracy!

Pls inform others and share awarness among other users and outside wattpad if you can!

Honestly Woman

Me, Fred, and George: *Waiting to board the Express*

Molly: Alright Fred your turn.

Me af: He's not Fred, I am!

Fred: Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother.

George: *Laughing his arse off*

Molly: I- Emily you aren't even one of my children, luckily.

Me, Fred, and George: *Dramatic gasp*

Fred: DISOWNING ONE OF YOUR CHILDREN?!

George: HOW DARE YOU

Me: *Fake crying* I JUST WANTED A HOME

George and Fred: *Holding me in a huddle* HOW COULD YOU, YOU BROKE HER

Molly: These kids-

Skandar retweeting this made me snort.

okay hear me out the cardigan, betty, august love triagle to reader x fred x angelina i've been thinking about it since folklore came

PROMPT: based on cardigan, betty, and august by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Y/N and Fred see each other after 7 years and she finally lets him know that she knew that he cheated on her with Angelina all those years ago. (fred lives au lol)

also my submission for @wand3ringr0s3‘s 1.9k follower writing challenge! 

“i knew it was too good to be true.” 

“was in love with you. was.”

WC: 1.5K+

WARNINGS: infidelity, angst

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

cardigan x betty x august (f.w one shot)

“Why did you leave?” 

You froze in your spot when you heard those words come out of Fred’s lips. The party behind the two of you was still in full swing— a party where his sister and her groom were celebrating their undying love for one another; Unbeknownst to them, just a few feet away, was the dying breath of another love. 

You turned to face the man you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. You thought about the years you’ve wasted pining after Fred Weasley, dreaming of him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. He was your safety blanket, one to cover you with a sense of comfort and belonging in a way that nobody was ever able to. He clouded your judgement until you didn’t know right from wrong anymore, and yet, not once did he take advantage of his hold on you— because he’s a good man. 

And you hated it. 

You hated how even though he was the same man who made you doubt in the power of love; even though he was the man who haunted you in your darkest hours; even though he was the man who laid beside a woman who wasn’t you, tangled in the white sheets while he was supposed to be devoted to you; you still knew he was a good man. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions,” you breathed out, shutting your eyes tightly. You couldn’t look him in the eye, not while his eyes are flaming with anger and suffering. 

“The hell I don’t!” he exclaimed, stomping over to you. His tone was harsh, but even that couldn’t mask the quivering of his words. “Why did you leave me?” 

You finally opened your eyes, after feeling his breath tickling your skin, “You left me first, Fred.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion evident in his features. Fred gulped, blinking a few times, not expecting that answer, “What are you on about?” 

“Angelina Johnson.” 

And just like that, Fred felt his knees grow weak. 

His face paled, all color draining from his once red cheeks. He knows exactly what you were talking about. But he wished he didn’t. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice turning into a broken whisper, “I-I can explain.” 

“No need,” you dismissed, staring at your feet. You kicked around the grass, sending small pebbles to ripple across the garden. “It’s been years, Fred. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“Obviously, it does,” he insisted, stepping closer to you. He couldn’t help but shed a tear when you took a step back. 

You shyly looked at your fingers, unable to look at him in the eyes once more. It has been seven years since you found him sleeping soundly beside Angelina Johnson, right before the war. You confessed your feelings for him a few hours before that night, even going so far as kissing him under the moonlight before you went off to fight in the battle of Hogwarts the next day. You didn’t speak to him the entire time and you left without another word once the war was over. 

“Can we talk about this?” 

“No, Fred,” you hissed, not even bothering to wipe the tears that were falling from your eyes, “Do you know how many times I’ve cried while we were still at Hogwarts because people would whisper about how bloody pathetic I am for being madly in love with you? You daft git! I would’ve done anything for you, Fred. Everyone but you could see that.” 

You grimaced as you continued, “Do you know how it feels to confess your love for someone and then finding them in bed with another woman not even a day later? Do you know how it feels to lose your best friend and the one you love all in a blink of an eye?” 

“Y/N, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you exhaled. In that small moment of silence, you faintly heard the crowd chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and you felt so guilty having this conversation during two of your closest friends’ magical night. You looked at Fred, “I was so happy that night, you know? We’ve been best friends for ages before that and you always told me that I was deserving of love. I never believed you until that night because Merlin, if I’m deserving of Fred Weasley then maybe I am deserving of love.” 

“You are,” he squeaked, trembling like your words were daggers stabbing him. 

You ignored him, “I felt so stupid after seeing you with Angelina because then I knew it was too good to be true. I couldn’t even bring myself to confront you about it.” 

“I-” you chuckled humorlessly, throat beginning to close up, “I wanted you, Fred. A-and obviously, you belonged to someone else and I just… I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t be here anymore! How I managed to still be friends with Ginny or visit Charlie in Romania when I was there for work— knowing full well that I saw you every time I looked at them— without bursting into tears, I don’t know! But I left for me, Fred. I needed to put myself back together again.” 

“Y/N, if I had known you’re in love with me-”

“Was in love with you,” you corrected, although you didn’t know if what you were saying was the truth, “Was.” 

He flinched but continued, “-was in love with me, then I wouldn’t hav-”

“Wouldn’t have fucked her?” 

Fred faltered, your words twisting the knife that was already buried in his chest. He nodded sadly, “Yeah.” 

“Fred, you would’ve done it anyway.” 

“No, I wouldn’t!” he pleaded, rushing over to you. “I wouldn’t because I was in love with you! I’m still in love with you! Had I known you weren’t just saying that because we were going into war, I swear Y/N things would’ve been so different.” 

“Please save it,” you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him at arms distance. 

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips as he peppered kisses to your knuckles. His tears touched your skin, the warmth of it making you shudder. You pulled your hand that he held closer to you, wanting to feel him near you, even just for a moment. You watched in despair as he murmured apologies into your skin. 

His eyes were closed, eyelashes touching the scar on the crease of your index finger. Fred looked at you through blurred vision, eyes red from crying and pleading. You couldn’t hear anything else but his sobs, the sounds from the wedding long forgotten. Fred whispered, not knowing if you were even listening to him anymore.

Please. Please. Please.

You stared at the boy in front of you in all his glory, vulnerable for you. Subconsciously you stroked his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, humming as he nudged his face into your touch. Fred’s bottom lip quivered, twisting his head to kiss your palm. He whispered again.

Please. Please. Please.

“Freddie,” you finally spoke. You felt his lips twitch to a smile at the way his nickname still sounded so smooth rolling off your tongue, so sweet like honey. 

“Hm?” 

“I want to forgive you.”

“So please forgive me,” he said so softly you almost didn’t catch it.

You pulled your hand away, holding it close to your chest. You stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence for the first time in seven years. He looked more mature. The years you’ve spent apart were kind to him. He looked more handsome than ever. 

You stared at the scar on his eyebrow— the one that he got when he tried to teach you how to fly in your third year. You stared at his eyes— the same ones you used to dream about waking up next to in the morning. You stared at his lips— the ones that you had the pleasure to feel on yours on that forsaken night. 

“I want to forgive you,” you echoed, allowing yourself to bask in his presence one last time, “But I can’t, Fred.” 

Silence. 

“You-” you paused, collecting yourself before continuing. You looked up at the sky briefly, letting out a shaky breath, “You broke me. I have spent years trying to fix myself. All those years apart, all I’ve done is try to forget you but you’re everywhere, Fred. You’re the person in my dreams and in my nightmares all together. Everything reminds me of you.” 

“And I’d be lying to myself if I said I don’t love you because I do,” you confessed, now looking at him intently, “I fear that I’ll always love you. I fear that I’ll always be tied to you. I fear that you’re probably the love of my life and I hate the part of me that still hopes that you are.” 

“Because if love is supposed to feel like this— if love is supposed to hurt like this— then I’d rather not love anyone for the rest of my life,” you began to quiet down, wiping the tears on your cheeks. You started to walk back to the party, deciding that you’ve missed too much of the night already, “It was good to see you, Freddie.”

Fred watched as you retreated back to the party, a fake smile plastered on your face. He stood there in the dark, crying silently and blaming himself for the mistake he made seven years ago, as he watched the love of his life give up on him.

-

tags: @rexorangecouny

So someone already asked me about this, but i’m gonna ask the rest of you guys

do some of you want to be put on a permanent tag list? i’ve been meaning to ask this for awhile but i never got around to it

anyway y’all can either comment, reblog, or simply DM me if you want to be

shout out to the literal fan fiction happening a few blocks from my apartment. there has been this halal meat market on the corner for like 19 years that the owner’s son just inherited and directly across the street this woman opened a kosher grocery store and since day one they’ve had this very friendly fake rivalry, playing it up for the customers, it’s always been super goofy and light hearted. so turns out last night she proposed in the middle of the afternoon rush in the meat market and he said YES and she’s moving her store to the adjacent empty storefront on the left so they can have a JOINT GROCERY STORE it is so fucking cute I wish them the happiest marriage ever