#[ // exploring kid feeling bad about himself is fun to write lmao ]

[ferromagnetiic]

a negativity ghost spawns from her hand, and it comes floating towards kid, until it finally passes through him. “ think you’re so cocky, huh? let’s see how you take this. ”

@thrillrs 【 Perona. 】

He's bracing himself for physical anguish when the spectral entity slips directly through the center of his torso; he's anticipating immense pain, perhaps the sensation of a frigid ice spear piercing through him, or a debilitating burn that rips him apart from the inside. Yet, as the translucent phantom glides into his body, its thick tongue dangling from grinning lips, Kid feels nothing. Absolutely nothing. No excruciating stabbing sensation; no awareness of all his organs being ripped directly from his body.

Nothing. Only, nothing.

Somehow, in spite of the lack of physical trauma, he still finds himself falling to his knees, the entire weight of his huge body suddenly dawning on him, as if he had never noticed it until now. It's as if he's never known fatigue, and years of accumulated exhaustion have finally reached him all at once. He lacks the strength to carry himself upright. He can only stare at the ground before him, his bare palms barely supporting himself as he kneels. The pressure continues to build, sapping him of all remaining strength.

It's pathetic. To lose his momentum with so little resistance must make him seem truly pathetic. What an embarrassment. What a loser.

He's muttering to himself, then; a shameful confession that he does acknowledge what a disgraceful state he's in.

❝ ....Maybe they were right. Maybe I am too loud and annoying... ❞

This feels way shittier than any hangover he's ever had before. He'll inevitably snap out of it in a few moments once he successfully grounds himself and shakes off the effects of the curse, but in the meantime, he truly does feel like utter crap.

[purpurussy]

id love to know more about your dinok au <333

thank you for asking <3 + sorry for responding to this a little late! i'm having trouble formulating my thoughts on it atm

my concept is that dan never found phil's channel, never met him, went to uni and married a girl he met there, and became a somewhat unsuccessful legal professional because he fucking hates his job. the vibe for him is that he kinda just let life drag him along, without really allowing himself to actually Live, and now he's in too deep to just come out as gay... like he's experiencing some insane cognitive dissonance dshshglk. coping through denial+alcohol has been working okay for him so far but now his career is flopping heavily and his marriage is falling apart bc he doesn't want kids (obviously) and his wife starting to suspect something is up. he meets phil through a mutual friend who he plays final fantasy with, they start talking via discord and then it's like "but wait what's this? my god it's manic pixie dream girl phil lester with a steel chair"

it's very angsty, slow burn, will they/won't they. but trust that phil is gonna see this sopping wet mess of a man and say "i can fix him" (and then dan will fix himself because i don't like that trope <3 but he needs phil to help him see that he can live his truth and be happy yk)

it's kinda hard to write because it's a bit depressing... i'm finally getting to the part where they meet irl and things start to turn around, but so far it's just been dan drinking to cope and feeling lonely :( i'm trying to go back and edit some humor into it to make it less upsetting to read lmfao. although it's fun to create a contrast between how bad dan's life fucking sucks and how much joy and whimsy he finds in talking to phil <3 it's also just really hard to write denial/cognitive dissonance if that makes sense? there's a lot to explore psychologically. and also I don't want to frame dan's beard wife as an antagonist, I feel like it would be very easy to demonize her but she's not to blame for this mess ykwim. like i don't want dan to be a "my bitch wife" kinda guy DSGSHGKG he's just scared. and the story is supposed to be about him being brave and healing, and realizing that a better life is possible. like he is his own antagonist dslskfghgjkl

I'm also enjoying the concept of the timeline roughly following their irl 2009 timeline. like they start talking around dan's 33rd birthday, meet on october 19th etc. i like the idea of some things being kinda constants even in a different timeline

anyway they just voice chat for a while and get to know each other without actually even knowing what the other looks like. and they lowkey fall in love even before they've even seen each other. so here is them seeing pics of each other for the first time and dying in a tragic double penis explosion incident

(earlier on phil tried to be like "why are you gay? you are gay." but dan just got scared and dodged the question so now he's not even out to phil . can you believe. that's gonna be real awkward when they start making out sloppy style 3 chapters later)

(also i just realized i've written [dan] like a million times while writing this LMAO that did not actually click for me until now)

sorry for rambling for ages! i'm so tired atm so i can't really be coherent lmao.

i really wanna post this once it's done, but i'm worried it'll be too sad and angsty at the beginning and people won't be into it 😭 i'm probably not doing a good job selling this but it'll be okay i promise

also shoutout to the people who helped me brainstorm dan's username! i havent decided yet but i like the idea of him picking something generic at first, and then changing it to something more meaningful as he goes on his little journey of self-discovery

[maccreadysbaby]

what are your favorite chapters or scenes you’ve written for a hundred days/ways?

oh geez!!!!! This is a really tough question 😬

honestly, i love the chapters where I explored the more vulnerable sides of the canon Wayne family characters.

I just seem to really enjoy fleshing out my own thoughts and takes on canon characters and events, especially when they’re through the eyes of such a young and unique character as Bentley. My entire life has consisted of basically 16-25 year old female main characters, so Bentley was completely out of the norm for me and I absolutely love it.

As morbid as it sounds, Bentley’s nightmares and the hurt / comfort that comes after them are also super fun to write. There’s something so special about writing soft moments between found family that just make my heart so full.

all that said, here are a few of my favorite chapters and why lmao:

reality — bentley’s first nightmare in the manor, on the list mainly because it was the first time apart from nightwing that he actually felt like he could trust and seek comfort in an adult; and that moment was basically the catalyst for bentley turning out how he did

robin down — when damian gets sick and bentley makes a valiant attempt at being a good support friend; i feel like this chapter in general really solidified the bond between damian and bentley, and was also one of the first instances where bentley was learning (through himself) how sacrificial and compassionate real relationships should be

emotional support tim — bentley’s first anxiety attack followed by some comfort from timmy who knows how it feels :( this chapter was basically when he felt the full weight of his decision and was the framework for how he handled attempting to beat his father. i love catalyst and turning-point chapters, if you can’t tell ;)

bristol vs crime alley — so many things are at play in this chapter; while it’s bentley’s first day at real school, trying to socialize with real kids his age, it’s also the introduction chapter to nico and asten and their entire dynamic that bentley gets dragged into like a stray kitten. it was big for me mainly because I was exploring all of bentley’s innerworkings at the same time that i was building the friendship dynamic, and here i went rocking two more not female not nineteen year old characters. i was proud of me :)

pity — damian gets emotional and all hell breaks loose; basically the catalyst for the entire story. plus I really like destroying characters and then rebuilding them

hurricane — maccreadysbaby breaks another child in a very tragic way… and honestly it’s just so interesting for me to feel out my own character’s minds and tip them until they break. nico is so so special to me. in my go-to “golden retriever / black cat” stereotype he was my golden retriever, and we’ve all watched him get hurt more and more until he was less golden retriever and more generic sad house cat. and i love him for it.

over the edge (almost) — asten and jason simply pain me. this is the chapter where we all realize how serious asten’s pain was and is. again, as we’ve got to know him more, we’ve broken through the bad boy smoking cigarettes facade and ended up here, at the pinnacle of his agony, where we have well and truly seen all the layers of asten evans

Those are my favorites for now!!!!! :)))) if you don’t mind, let me ask you a question back!

Who is your favorite of the trio, and why?

(I know you have one, don’t be shy. Anyone who gets this far in the post can answer 😅 id absolutely love to know which one of the boys you gravitate to)

[daenystheedreamer]

omaegorverse cringe below

ok so im on the SECOND generation of targs now. jaehaerys married a hightower (ceryse's niece) as a Sorry We Did Polygamy and to curry favour with the faith. they had six kids: Aegon, Aerion, Helaena, Viserys, Daenerys, Maegelle.

helaena is helen of troy and aegon+aerion fight over her (they do a little trojan war<3 peasants die cos this family is psychosexually insane!!). aegon is the heir and a tradcath and aerion(named for aerea) is an insane second son also they are twins. aerion murdered the high septon at 14/15ish because the bastard was abusing helaena, but because of sexism etc there cant be any implication of helaena being 'impure'(scream!!!) so he couldnt really explain himself and got exiled to essos as a 14yo and it made him extra crazy!!! aegon is insane cos he's his mother's favourite and his daddy doesnt care about him enough and his brother is the cool bad boy. helaena is insane because she was essentially forced into an identity from birth and she has never been allowed to explore herself! she's simply The Maiden The Beauty The Princess!!

maegelle's birth was magicaly heralded by the deaths of like a bunch of her realtives (maegor, viserys, daenys LMAO rip) and shes haunted cursed psychologically tortured by them. her Daenys the YinOC slay....

the two im still not sure on are viserys and daenerys. viserys becomes king after his brothers die but idk his personality yet? hmmm hes the spare! hes ignored by his family until they all fucking die and hes left as The Most Important Man In The Kingdom. ooo i think im gonna make him the first one to Really feel the monstrous effects of their monstrous births... hes gonna be a lil vampire!!!

ooo and im gonna make daenerys desperate for old valyria!! for their real home... westeros destroyed them but valyria is totally good and perfect they would have been FINE if theyd just stayed in valyria!!! who knows maybe the doom was BECAUSE they left...

plus their cousins:

viserra married lord lannister and had a fucked up like femdom petplay thing with him and all the westerlands hate her and shes like um but he likes the fucking strap? sorry youre all sex negative :/ argue with the dragonfire LMAO and she had twins (Jocasta and Jason) who are fucked up in the brain cos of their fucked up mum and cos their dad killed himself on the day of their birth :/ also jocasta marries aegon

after the death of lord lannister, maegor held a tourney for the right to marry the widowed viserra and lord lucamore strong(lucamore the lusty of the kingsguard in canon) won!! so viserra went to harrenhal with him and they had five fucked up weirdo kids (Saera, Shiera, Shaena, Lucas and Victarion). i wanted to name lucas lucifer but i thought that was taking it too far. i still might actually

daenys married lord stark (an oc younger brother of walton and alaric. in this au the starks did a rebellion and walton and alaric got killed that way rip alaric sorry u couldnt fuck alysanne) and had NINE kids with him (Serena, Alarra, Alaric, Brandon, Berena, Edderion, Cregan, Sara and Torrhen) PLUS a miscarriage after serena (Arra). she also has a classic targ monstrous stillbirth!! after the murder-murder-murder of Daenys/Maegor/Viserys, three monstrous babies tear themselves from her womb (i named the little weirdos Danelle, Theon and Jo). jaehaerys hacks them to death</3

a part of this au is as the family tree grows through the years, the targ line starts infecting basically every house. since omaegorverse targs inbreed SLIGHTLY less and marry out more, the insanity spreads and the inherent sins of westerosi society is made apparent. i♡physical manifestations of moral rot.

idk how this all ends, right now im just having fun writing fucked up and psychologically tortured targ waifs. probably the long night will happen and everyone will die :) ooo and maybe its an infinite cycle maybe its just another reset and it all starts over again hee hee!!!

[wikiangela]

alive shannon 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 (but much more enthusiastically)

yaaay I love talking about this fic haha

so, the alive shannon fic is my most precious baby, and I love her sooo much (both the fic and shannon haha)

the idea started bc I was tired of the discourse and hate on Shannon bc she doesn't deserve it, and since I first watched the show I always just felt so bad for her - but that's a whole rant sitting in my drafts so that's all I'm gonna say on that atm hahaha

the fic is going to be basically a rewrite of canon where Shannon survives the accident and she and Eddie get divorced, and she stays in Christopher's life - so she sticks around and she and Eddie become friends/co-parents, and she's gonna get to know Buck too (I think they're on their way to become besties tbh lol) - and most of all she and Chris will get to have a relationship

so that, and all the events from canon that are still gonna happen and how it might differ with her around - and in the middle of it all Buck and Eddie will slowly fall in love, and she's gonna be so 👀 about Eddie and Buck's relationship and eventually she's gonna be like: these oblivious idiots are never gonna get it istg haha (she might meddle a bit too, and I kinda want to get it up to the end of s4 with Ana just to see Shannon be like: it should be Buck, wtf is eddie even doing lol)

and I'm just excited to explore these dynamics, and Eddie moving on and letting himself fall for someone else (Buck), and him and Shannon getting the closure they were robbed of in the show haha

it's gonna be switching pov with each chapter so we'll get all three perspectives and it's sooo much fun to write and I have sooo many ideas (as of now there's almost 20k words, and I'm still only on chapter 3, didn't even get to the truck bombing yet, so it's gonna be fucking long lmao)

there are already way too many snippets posted here, you can find them under the alive shannon fic tag (this post is tagged as this too lol) but here's one more that I'm not sure I shared haha - it's from chapter 1, from Eddie's pov, and it's him and Buck waiting for news about Shannon's condition at the hospital, and not knowing if she survives or not

He thinks back to his and Shannon's latest interactions, to her coming back, to the chaos of their relationship, that Eddie knows isn’t good, he knows that, he just can’t help wanting to fix it – she’s his wife, how can he just give up? Maybe it was good, once upon a time, before they were thrust into parenthood and marriage way too young, before they were pressured and divided by Eddie’s family, their suggestions sounding more like orders, now that Eddie thinks back on it, orders that he followed, being just a dumb kid. Maybe if he hadn’t left, if he stayed and supported her, if they did it all together, like the partners they were supposed to be… But there’s no point thinking about what ifs. It’s all over, whether she survives or not, and he just has to make his peace with it. He thinks back to their last conversation, and he hates to admit that she was right. “She wants a divorce.” he hears himself blur out, voice hoarse and breaking, unused in hours. He’s not sure why this is what he’s focusing on right now, why this is what he wants to tell Buck, but at least he’s not breaking down. He’ll allow himself a moment for that after he talks to his son, after he knows- “Shannon.” he croaks out, as if there was a need to specify. He feels Buck’s gaze on his face, but he can’t look up, can’t look into those worried blue eyes, or he’ll drown in them, willingly and completely, not ever wanting to swim back to the surface and face this cruel world. “She asked me for a divorce.” “Eddie, I’m so sorry-” Buck starts, but Eddie interrupts him with a bitter chuckle that sounds almost like he’s choking. He might as well be, he thinks the only reason he’s still breathing is holding his hand right now. Only other reason is back home, not realizing what’s happening, just doing his homework or watching cartoons. Eddie really doesn’t want to bring him bad news, he’s too young for this. “She’s right. I couldn’t- I didn’t want to see it. But she’s right.” he sighs, readjusting his grip on Buck’s hand, but not letting go. He doesn’t want to ever let go. If he did, he thinks he’d just crumble into a million little pieces right now, left for Buck to pick up. And he has no doubt Buck would, every smallest piece, and put him back together again. Really, what would he do without him? How did he do it without him until now?

ask me about my wips

[sundrop-writes]

I feel like Fred was EVERYONE'S childhood crush lmao. I mean I did want his brother REAL BAD, but Freddie, I'm here, I'm home, I love youuuu

i love skimming through the content warnings and catching the little surprise tools for later -> I love how the content warnings aren't even warnings for you, they're little surprise treats

"Fred calls himself Daddy and the reader is way into it" so am I actually (congrats Fred Weasley for making it to the very select list of men I'd call daddy) -> I was slightly hesitant to put Daddy kink in this fic, but I just couldn't get it out of my head and it felt so fitting for his character (and it's been so long since I have written a fic with Daddy kink and I wanted to so badly) so I am SO GLAD that he is one of the select men that you would call Daddy!!! (perhaps in a later fic, Ron will also make that list...?)

(i actually forgot this had smut in it KSKSKSK i was so focused on the ANGST and self made suffering) -> that is hilarious but also so understandable omg. I do this sometimes when I am writing an angst/smut fic lmao

"It seemed that just yesterday, you were a bright-eyed young girl" this entire first big paragraph goes so hard -> omg thank you!!! it's about the unbearable passage of time and also how quickly trauma and a dark world mentally ages a person

"and it left you the laughing stalk of the courtyard" the prank rivals to lovers story we've been hoping for <3 | "So - on with your revenge, it was" I love these two so much -> her immediately being like "it's time for a taste of his own medicine" is THE REASON HE FELL IN LOVE. Fred Weasley wants someone who will match his Prank Freak. she pranked him back and he immediately was picking out their future kids' names in his head

"the quiet robotic hum of ‘Jingle Bells’, occasionally overlapped by ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" this is such a funny prank idea -> FUN FACT - I got this idea from a Canadian kids TV show that used to come on YTV when I was younger called Prank Patrol. it was one of those shows where they set up elaborate pranks to goof people and filmed in in the reality tv style, but they also had a segment in the middle of the show where they showed you fun easy DIY pranks that you could do at home, and this was one of them (though I think that they recommended putting the singing greeter in someone's bedroom door hinge so that it sang whenever their bedroom door was open, and not in a book, but it functions the same way)

"You had a crippling fear of heights" which is a surprise tool :3 that'll help us out in a minute ("help" us out i guess) -> I will never understand people who only write Reader characters that they personally can relate to, because I absolutely do not have a fear of heights, and I find it so interesting to explore things like this through my writing. and it makes for good plot

"because watching Fred doing something he loved was a good distraction from just how high up you were" he'd also look Delicious playing -> edits of Quidditch Fred from POA - he was SO DELICIOUS !!!!

"planting his hand firmly on the railing at the other side of your waist" this gives me the same giddy feeling of someone holding me by the waist to get by behind me -> Fred Weasley is a PDA man and nobody can convince me otherwise, and he would find any excuse to slip PDA into his everyday life (he is the man who puts his hands on your waist to gently move you out of the way to walk by you and his hands are so big and warm that it's BUTTERFLIES every single time)

"Finally. I thought the two of you were never gonna get on with it" nothing could make me believe all the Weasleys weren't making bets on how long it'd take them -> I did not even think of this, but they FUCKING WERE. especially Charlie and Bill, who only met Y/N like twice, they immediately saw the chemistry between her and Fred and they were like "yeah, this is gonna be a thing" (George wasn't allowed in the betting pool because Fred tells him too much)

"I guess I was stupid enough to believe that I was part of that dream!” // "Would’ve been a waste of parchment writing to you, anyway" -> I always have so much fun writing angsty arguments omg

"Fred smirked, proud that after all this time, he could still draw a laugh out of you" the unbreakable curse of liking the "Funny Guy", he's Still funny even after a fight/breakup (it's almost humbling in a way) -> THIS IS SO TRUE. like imagine all the times that Fred came into the Apothecary and he was purposefully flirting with her and making dumb jokes, and she couldn't help but to laugh, and every single time she laughed, he held onto hope that they would get back together because he was like "that laugh is mine. she still loves me"

"In the back of his mind, he thought that Wood would be proud" oh 🥺 -> all those hours of being screamed at during Quidditch practice are gonna have his life !!!!!

"He likely would have died with that tight grip still around your wrist in those moments if someone had hit him with the killing curse" hey Sunny it's me knocking, let me in I just wanna talk 🔪 oh this ? don't worry about that | "Freddie, please, I don’t wanna die!” 🔪 Sunny I'm coming in -> reading this literally made me BURST OUT LAUGHING omg. cause I know if you showed up at my doorstep with a knife it would actually be to cut me a slice of cake <3 you'd never actually hurt me baby I know it !!! (also you think I PLAY AROUND when I write angst??? HUH)

"You wanted to sob, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream" YEAH !!! -> this is what happens when the Weasley twins get hurt !!!!

"He couldn’t possibly be talking about…? No. No, he wasn’t" im hitting both of you on the head with one of those rubber squicky hammers -> again HILARIOUS. and they both need it

"You had never seen Fred Weasley so sad before" im screaming and crying and ripping the wallpaper off the walls -> I feel like I have never seen a fic explore Fred's sadness? like yes, he's a joker, but he's capable of sadness. like the man have complex emotions. let him have some negative emotions!!! I really enjoyed exploring a more serious side of him with this

"I can’t lose you. You almost slipped out of my hands.” 🎵 waaaaaar is oooveeeeer 🎵 (kinda, maybe, yes ?) -> this was one of my favourite parts to write !!!! the rare emotionally distraught Fred Weasley, you tear me apart in the best ways!!!

"If one of us were to die tomorrow, I couldn’t live my last day knowing that I wasted it not being yours" I AM RIPPING MY OWN HEART OUT OUAT STYLE, MORE BLOODY MAYBE -> AGAIN I HAD WAY TOOOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS HAHAHAHAHA

"You grabbed both sides of the sport jacket and used it to haul him down toward you" YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH !!!!!! I looove a good intense kiss scene 🙂‍↕️ -> me too? kiss scenes are sooooo underrated!!!! I am thinking "Your First Kiss With X" with the Harry Potter characters like I did for Titans??? I feel like they need it??? the world needs it!!!

"his bedroom had some silencing wards around" 😈 we'll put it to good use 😈 - PERCY HAD NO CLUE WHAT HE WAS GOING HAHAHAHA

"Did you miss it, darling?” He asked... with a cocky smile stretched across his soft lips" 😳😳😳😳😳 -> this such a last minute addition to the fic and I am so glad I did because Fred FUCKING WOULD

"Fred Weasley’s cock was a marvel that you couldn’t have forgotten if you had tried" are they identical in every way i wonde- *a gunshot sounds off* -> listen... this will be addressed in a different fic, but... they are. they are

"When I cum tonight, it’s gonna be deep inside your sweet cunt, yeah?” 🚨🚑🚨🚑🚨🚑🚨🚑 -> again this was so much fun to write mwahahaha

“Go on, good girl.” *holding the tmi jar very close to my chest* stop spilling all my secrets -> okay but.... this was also intensely self indulgent

"perfect heat of your cunt began sucking him in for the first time in over a year" and you KNOW they have not gotten with ANYONE in that time (only the company of their own hand for a whole year) -> YES EXACTLY!!!

"Unfortunately I don’t have any panties for you, so…” oh noooo what a nightmare (he's a fucking liar btw, the panties are under his matress) -> how did I not even CONSIDER THIS??? OMG!!! HE ABSOLUTELY HAS KEPT SOME OF HER PANTIES OMG

"Fred quietly let out a ‘yes’ in celebration" *punching the wall* he's such a dork -> in the BEST FUCKING WAAAAY

"soft planes of his muscles that had come from hard work rather than a distinct workout routine and the beautiful bit of fat on his lower belly" i am foaming at the mouth -> a muscled man who has super tight abs = sad, dehydrated. a muscled man who has a fat tummy = WHAT A MAN WHAT A MAN WHAT A MIGHTY GOOD MAAAAN YES HE IIIIISSSS

"his core was a Dragon Heart’s String, and that heart beat for you just as fondly as his own did" INSAAAAAAAANEEEEE -> this was inspired by the fact that I literally JUST read the chapter in Philosopher's Stone where Harry gets his wand and I was like THE LORE. THE LORE lmao

"but just as Fred’s lips brushed yours, George let out a loud, fake gagging sound" siblinghood is so real -> George is so fucking obnoxious and we love it so much

I am so glad that you liked the fic!!!!

The Way You Miss Me

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

I’m not trying to say I don’t wanna stay, I just know how this story ends.

Use my body against me - and all of our history.

I hate the way you miss me. 

Summary:

Fred broke up with you. He made it clear that he was going to have a new life when he opened his shop, and he didn't need you to be a part of it. You being stuck on him was just another joke in a long line of pranks that he pulled.

And life kept on laughing at you when your fear of crippling heights was triggered by a potentially life ending mission the Order put together that had you dangling hundreds of feet over London, held up only by Fred's strength and determination.

So what does it mean when the two of you land, and he's the only thing that can stop your shaking panic? What does it mean when he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes, holding you tight like a lover would?

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Deathly Hallows.

Word Count: 18,500

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full warnings list and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is equal parts angst fic and smut fic; the reader is a cis woman - uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; there is no mention of the reader's looks, race, hair colour, etc. in any way; this fic does use Y/N (and L/N as in Last Name); this takes place mostly during the beginning of Deathly Hallows, so there are mentions of dark topics, like death, and the cult-like following that Voldemort has developed; this is Exes to Lovers - Fred and the reader dated for a while during their time at Hogwarts and then broke up; (there is flashbacks in this fic to times during Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix); the reader is half-blood - she has one parent who is a muggle and lives in a muggle city and the other parent who is loyal to death eaters (and there is a later mention of the reader's mother being killed due to anti-muggle sentiment as Voldemort becomes more powerful); there is no mention of what Hogwarts house the reader is in; the reader has a crippling fear of heights (which is a large part of the plot for this fic); mentions of nausea and vomiting (as a fear response) (no one actually throws up during the course of the fic); the reader experiences actual life-threatening danger while on a broom - she nearly falls to her death, but Fred catches her; Fred does struggle to hold the reader's body weight, so it doesn't imply that he has super-human strength or that the reader is particularly petite (I wanted his reaction to be realistic for someone of any body weight); for part of the fic, Fred is disguised as Harry using Polyjuice Potion (but there's no confusion about his identity because the reader knows he took the potion); the reader experiences a panic attack due to the life threatening fall, and Fred helps her calm down; mentions of blood and semi-graphic descriptions of George's canon injury (his ear being blasted off); there is general emotional angst from the characters being in close proximity to danger, death, and life threatening situations; Fred calls the reader 'darling' and 'love' and 'sweets' and 'pretty girl' (in sexual and non-sexual contexts).

For the actual smut section: this is not their first time together as a couple and neither of the characters are meant to be virgins; there is undertones of sub/dom dynamics - Fred is a teasing soft dom and the reader is submissive to him (and there is mentions of the reader experiencing what could be considered subspace) (but there isn't any specifically laid out roles - it's more so one person enjoying taking care of the other, especially after experiencing the emotional turmoil of a near death experience together); there is Daddy kink in this (not until a bit later into the smut section, but it just came to me and I realized it suited Fred so well) Fred calls himself Daddy and the reader is way into it; praise kink - Fred calls the reader 'good girl' specifically because he knows she likes it; lots of dirty talk (Fred has a filthy mouth); oral sex - Fred receiving (she blows him as a thank you for saving her life) (also slight ball worship); mentions of the reader 'choking' on his cock (but there is no major breathplay or breath restriction); slight spit kink (it's a messy blowjob and he loves it); teasing and brief orgasm denial (toward both parties); hair pulling (toward both parties) - not with the intention of causing pain, but to direction someone's attention and to show appreciation and affection to the person; thigh riding - she humps herself on Fred's thigh while she is still wearing clothes; penis in vagina sex; creampie kink (I'm not gonna say breeding kink, because there's no mention of procreation or getting someone pregnant, even in theory, but they are both very turned on by the idea of him cumming inside of her); this could be protected sex OR unprotected sex - he cums inside of her raw but we can all pretend that they used a magical pregnancy prevention method if you want even though it's not mentioned in the fic; cockwarming (reader doesn't let Fred pull out for a while after he cums); I think that is finally it for this fic.

A/N: This fic is titled after a song by All Time Low, which I highly recommend listening to paired with this fic. This is actually part of an idea I had for a much longer multi-chaptered Fred x Reader fic, but I kept thinking about this one moment in the fic and how much I wanted to write it - so I did. And I decided that it would make a good oneshot. And I am actually insanely proud of myself for managing to capture the same emotions in under 20k that I originally thought would take me like 50k or 100k to properly communicate. I think this is fantastic, and it's one of the best things I have written in a while - and I really hope you guys enjoy it! Especially if you like angsty, emotional, exes to lovers fics.

...

Very often, you wondered when life had become so complicated. 

It seemed that just yesterday, you were a bright-eyed young girl, dancing around a beautifully magical winter ball with the love of your life on your arm - and now, you were a confused woman who was terrified of how your life would end up because of a dark wizard and his cultist followers trying to overtake your world. 

These days you didn’t even have that lover to comfort you through all of the confusion and dread that clouded the world around you. 

You and Fred used to be perfect. That’s what a lot of people would have called the two of you - the ‘perfect’ couple. 

Your story was something straight from a romance novel - the two of you were best friends when you were young, and that friendship quickly blossomed into affection. That affection naturally led into a sweet romance. When you were with him, your life was full of moments where you felt like a beautiful, flowery, desirable protagonist because of how he treated you. Your life used to be full of laughter, full of smiles, full of romantic gestures. 

You and Fred were in the same year at Hogwarts, so naturally you knew each other. You weren’t really friends - at least not at first. You knew of each other, especially because you had some classes together. 

But you didn’t truly meet Fred Weasley until more than halfway into your first year of classes together. You had the misfortune of accidentally running into a prank that was meant for a Slytherin Prefect - someone who had taken one too many house points off Gryffindor for the twins’ liking. And after being doused with red and gold paint and tripping over a toy rubber snake that had been charmed to hiss realistically when you got near it - you were reasonably frightened and crying, and it left you the laughing stalk of the courtyard - someone to be pointed at and mocked by everyone. 

Fred hadn’t meant for it to be you. With the way he looked at you after the incident - full of guilt while everyone else pointed at you and laughed, imitating your frightening screams and attempts to jump away from the fake snake - it didn’t take you long to figure out the culprits behind it. And it didn’t take you much longer after that to plan your revenge. (Especially because, as much as Fred looked guilty, he didn’t simply come forward and apologise. Too afraid to look like a weak moron in the eyes of his brother and his other Gryffindor friends. So - on with your revenge, it was.) 

You figured that all good pranksters should be due to be a victim sometimes, too. If the twins couldn’t laugh when they were on the receiving end, then they should stop playing pranks. 

So you came up with something that you considered masterful. During your trip home for Christmas, back to Muggle London where your mother lived, you asked her to take you to a shop to buy a couple of greeting cards for your classmates. The ones that sing Christmas carols loudly when the hinge of the card is opened. Something clever, and not needing any magic at all. 

And when you returned to Hogwarts after the break, you found a moment where the twins were distracted, and you stole their book bags in order to pull off your epic, amazing prank. You taped those singing greeters into the back of their Potions textbooks - a class that you shared with them, of course, so that you could enjoy the show. And then you waited. 

You had trouble containing your laughter when Professor Snape escalated from annoyed to downright scalding angry as his class was filled with the quiet robotic hum of ‘Jingle Bells’, occasionally overlapped by ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’. It was made even better by the fact that both of the twins clearly knew that the music was coming from somewhere in their surrounding area, but they had no clue what the exact source was or how to stop it. And with every snivelled demand of ‘just open your books and get to work’ - the music only started up again. 

By the time they had been sentenced to detention for disturbing the class, you were nearly breathless and your ribs were aching from trying to hold back your laughter. Which, of course, meant that Fred easily spotted you out of everyone else - who looked equally confused or annoyed with the low hum of the music. And as soon as the class ended, he brought his textbook to you, thanked you for the worthy prank, and asked you how to stop it. He looked entirely amused and impressed when you pulled the tiny device out of the back, and proceeded to ask you a million questions about it. 

You weren’t surprised when the next week, the annoying singing greeter ended up inside the teacher’s copy of the textbook on McGonagall’s desk. 

From that moment on, his crush on you steeped inside of him like a fine tea, developing from an innocent adolescent attraction to full-blown, ‘drive you crazy’, ‘I would do anything for you’, love. It was lucky for him that you easily felt the same way. 

Through the years of being by his side, becoming his best friend, pulling pranks together and trying desperately to get him to study - it was difficult not to fall for Fred Weasley. 

You had been overjoyed when Fred invited you to the Quidditch World Cup. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of Quidditch (and Fred knew that). The only reason you had started attending the games at Hogwarts was because he joined the team. And you only bothered to attend the games he played in, so your bias could be spotted from a mile away. But in his letter, with the ticket to the World Cup slotted into the envelope, he told you that it was ‘the game of the century’ and you ‘simply couldn’t miss it’. 

You wouldn’t miss out on spending time with him, so you eagerly agreed to go. 

This left you with only one glaring problem. 

You had a crippling fear of heights. 

It was one of the reasons that you never really gotten into Quidditch in the first place. You had absolutely no interest in playing, and even less interest in watching if Fred wasn’t involved. The idea of even flying on a broom being something that made you nauseated and shaky just from thinking about it. 

The mandatory first year flying lesson was the only class at Hogwarts that you ever failed, but Madame Hooch took pity on you when she saw you crying and fisting the grass after only getting your broom about five inches off the ground. So she passed you anyway - just barely. 

When you set out to watch Fred’s games at Hogwarts, you usually had to take some kind of anti-nausea tonic beforehand to make sure that you didn’t puke all over everyone else in the stands. And you usually couldn’t even make it up to your seat to watch unless one of your good friends held your hand. But you were alright once the actual game started, because watching Fred doing something he loved was a good distraction from just how high up you were. 

Telling Fred about your intense fear had been one of the most honest, vulnerable moments that you ever had with him. Your friendship was usually all pranks and laughter, which you loved. 

But one summer day, when you were hanging out with the Weasleys, they wouldn’t stop nagging you to join one of their family Quidditch matches because they needed an extra player to make the teams even. And after the twins’ endless teasing, saying that you were ‘afraid to lose’ or that you would be ‘too distracted by their daring good looks’ in order to play properly, you broke down crying and stormed off into the woods, because you were too anxious to admit the real reason that you couldn’t play.  

Fred was the one who found you off in the trees behind the Burrow, tears still streaming down your face, and asked you what he had done to so greatly upset you. He had been terrified at the idea of making you upset, so hurt that he had been the one to make you cry. And after he found out about your fear, he didn’t laugh or mock you for it or play it off as something stupid like you thought would be so typical of him. No - instead, he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and he told you that he was genuinely sorry. And he promised that he would never invite you to play Quidditch again. 

When you had accepted the invitation to The World Cup, you had forgotten how much your fear of heights played into watching Quidditch as well. The giant, impossibly tall temporary Quidditch stadium that had been set up for the event had been looming over you all day, but you didn’t want to quit and go home because of some silly little fear. 

You wanted to spend the time with your friends. You wanted to enjoy the event because the people you loved most were having fun there. So you pressed on, ignoring the inevitable, letting yourself get caught up in the pregame revelry. You walked around the seemingly endless campgrounds with Fred and George, in awe of all the decorations and the different wizards from all over the world, showing off things from their homes. You chatted and charmed along with them as they collected bets before the game. You let Fred paint your face with large, ugly shamrocks because even though you didn’t entirely care about the teams or fully know them, you were rooting for Ireland to win simply because he was. 

But the unavoidable nature of your problem became very apparent as Arthur guided everyone to your seats, and you climbed up more stairs, and more stairs, and more stairs - and the higher up you got, the more you found yourself shaking, especially when you looked down to the ground and saw that the people down there looked like little more than bugs. You hated it when your mind, naturally, went to what would happen to you if you stumbled over the railing and fell down all that way. You would splat on the ground, squashed like a bug. You would die within seconds. 

You held on tighter to Fred’s hand - he would have said that he had grabbed your hand in the first place so that he wouldn’t lose you among the bustling crowd, and not simply as an excuse to be closer to you. You didn’t even realise how badly you were trembling in his touch as you looked over the railing (still a few flights down from your final seats) with intense apprehension. 

“You alright?” Fred asked you simply. 

“‘m fine.” You mumbled out the lie, giving him a large, forced smile - hoping that he would believe it. 

You knew that if you told him how you were feeling, he would insist on escorting you back to the tent. Perhaps he would even insist on staying with you so that you wouldn’t have to be alone. So he might miss out on a once in a lifetime Quidditch game all because you had a bit of petty anxiety from being so high up. 

So you tried your best to push down all your feelings and ignore them, even if it was making you shake and making your stomach churn. When you got to the top, peering over the edge of the railing of the very, very high up seats that Arthur had gotten as a thanks for his work on helping to organise the whole thing (apparently, the higher up the better to actually see the game), you felt an incredible sense of dizziness, and began swaying on your feet. 

This was so much higher up than the Quidditch stands at Hogwarts. 

Naturally, Fred noticed. It wasn’t something he would easily admit, or even something he did consciously, but he always kept an eye on you. Partially due to a knack for admiring your beauty, that adolescent love-struck feeling always making him more prone to staring at you. But it was also partially due to the fact that he felt a need to watch over you. Whether it be as a friend or as something else, he always wanted you to be safe, and happy. 

And right now, your sickly, terrified face stood out like a sore thumb among the crowd of excited, cheering fans.  

“Y/N,” 

He called out your name in a serious tone that was so uncharacteristic of Fred, something that snapped your attention from staring anxiously at the ground toward him immediately. He cemented your attention on him when he put a hand on top of your tight, tense knuckles on the railing. His touch was warm, as always, and oddly grounding, removing even just a slight bit of that dizzying anxiety that you were feeling. 

“Do you wanna go back down? I can bring you back to the tent,” 

Of course. Just as you had predicted. 

“No.” You easily answered, shaking your head furiously, biting your lip. “I-” 

You didn’t want him missing out on such an important event because of you, but more importantly: 

“I - I don’t want to be afraid.” You heaved out, your chest tight with anxiety. “It’s stupid - people do stuff like this all the time, right? I shouldn’t be afraid-” 

“It’s not stupid.” He said firmly, quickly squashing down any self-belittling that you might be tempted to do. “You can’t control how you feel.” 

Coming from him, it sounded like the most firm truth ever. 

“If you want to stay, I’ll be right here with you.” Fred added on, giving you a warm, reassuring grin. “But just let me know if you want to go back down, and I’ll walk with you, alright?” 

You nodded, hating that even though his words gave you that nip of courage you needed, you were still pulsing with a dull panic. The undeniable reaction that fear caused in your body. 

Fred hated seeing you shaking, hated the deep frown that cut through your beautiful features - so what he did next was instinctive. He took his hand off yours and reached that arm, the one closest to you, around your back, planting his hand firmly on the railing at the other side of your waist. This trapped you in a close-knit hold beside him, something that made you feel instantly more secure - even if it was just from the warmth of him at your side. 

“I’m not gonna let you fall, yeah?” He said quietly, leaning closer into your ear to be heard - the warmth of the reassurance causing gentle tingles down your spine. “I would never let anything happen to you, darling.” 

Between the intense loving safety that he words wrapped you in with the sweet nickname he added on, and the firm cradle of his arm around your back, you knew that you would have no problem sticking it out for the game. But your brain was still trying to cope, your anxiety so incredibly nagging, and you couldn’t help it when your eyes drifted back to focus on the ant-like people on the ground, becoming shaking and nauseous all too soon from staring downward. 

“Down look down.” Fred scolded you gently, using his other hand to grab your chin, forcing your gaze back up - it ended with your eyes locked with his, admiring the way the breeze blew his too-long ginger hair into his eyes. “Just look at me, alright? It’s gonna be far worse if you keep starin’ down there. Just look at me, love.” 

“Just look at you.” You repeated in a quiet mumble, already so utterly locked in the powerful orbit of his gaze, feeling like it was near impossible to look away from him. 

You felt his forehead brush against yours before you realised just how close he had gotten. But you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. 

And ultimately, feeling the stands shaking beneath your feet as a particularly hard gust of wind came through and having another swell of anxiety rush through you was what drove you to closing the gap, sealing your lips on his in your first kiss. Fred made you brave, almost stupidly so, and you hoped that you had finally used that bravery for something good in capturing his lips. (Rather than the stupid mischief that the two of you usually got up to.) 

Fred smiled into the kiss and George cheered loudly behind him - you thought it was due to the game starting, and when you pulled back sharply to look around for the players, you were met with nearly all eyes in the group on you, clearly gawking at the fact that you and Fred had kissed. 

This included Ginny smirking almost evilly before she said: 

“Finally. I thought the two of you were never gonna get on with it.” 

This left you squirming with a mild embarrassment, and definitely not thinking about how high up you were anymore. 

Looking back, the memory was painful - not sweet or fond as it had once been to you. 

But it wasn’t nearly as painful as the memory of the day you and Fred had broken up. 

He had asked you to be his girlfriend officially only a few days after the World Cup. He wanted you to know what that kiss meant to him, and he wanted the privilege of more kisses from you, on top of the ‘honour’ (his exact wording) of going back to Hogwarts with you on his arm as his girlfriend, making all the other boys in your year ‘pathetically jealous’. Of course, it was everything you wanted, he was everything you wanted, so you said yes. 

The two of you dated for nearly two full happy years - right through your sixth year and into your seventh, until in April of your seventh year, shortly after Fred’s birthday, when everything came crashing down around you. 

It wasn’t unusual of Fred to pull you away after a class - his hand in yours, igniting fluttery giggles from your lungs as he pulled you down the corridors to whatever secret little spot he had picked out. Even with Umbridge at Hogwarts, implementing more rules and cracking down on ‘fraternisation’ between students, you and Fred still found ways to sneak off to have your private little moments together. 

So when Fred took you off to one of those private corners on chilly spring afternoon, you assumed that this was no different. You fell into the natural rhythm of pinning him against a wall, sealing your lips firmly to his in a kiss and waiting for his hand to sneak up your skirt while his tongue ventured into your mouth. You were shocked when this time, he didn’t kiss you back. He was limp and unreceptive against you, and that was when you realised that you had read the tone of the interaction very wrong - even if him dragging you away by the hand always led to making out in a quiet corner, and more than a bit of groping. 

You pulled back, looking at him with confusion and disappointment plainly across your face. 

“What’s wrong, Freddie?” You asked, well in the habit of using the nickname for him. 

Fred’s expression was filled with sullen dread, and it made your stomach twist. It truly made you fearful of whatever he was going to say next, and you took a step back from him, widening the gap between the two of you in the dusty, draughty old stairwell. You suddenly felt too cold, even with your uniform sweater and thick robes on, and wrapped your arms around yourself to compensate. 

“There’s something I have to tell you.” He announced quietly, continuing to lean on the wall that you had pressed him up against, staring at the floor, his eyes unwilling to meet you. 

What? Had he cheated on you? Did he want to break up? 

What terrible thing could possibly make this bright, funny joker so damn sad and serious? 

“What is it?” You asked, filling with dread, your throat tightening up more by the second. 

“George and I have decided that it’s about time we take our leave.” Fred announced, his eyes only flickering to you for a moment, looking for some kind of reaction. You were only further confused, and waited for him to explain. “The lease for the shop in Diagon Alley finally came through, and-” 

“Well that’s great news, Fred.” You said, trying to sound happy and upbeat beyond the tension that was still tight in your chest. You had no clue why he was so downtrodden - the joke shop was his dream, and now that they had secured a location for it, that dream was coming true. 

He heaved a sigh, his eyes turning to gaze out a nearby window for a moment before he turned back to you. 

“It means we have to leave, darling.” He said sharply. 

Your insides became heavy. 

You knew it was a very Fred and George thing - so intent on not doing their exams, desperate to escape any further academics. You wanted to ask why they wouldn’t stay until the end of the school year, but you knew that you would get answers about how they didn’t need marks from exams that they were likely going to fail anyway to run a shop that they now owned. 

It was something founded on their own talents and ideas, and they didn’t need the approval of professors marking them wrong or right in order to do it. 

It was the life they had always dreamed of. And you were intensely proud of them for it. 

So why did you still have that overwhelming feeling of dread? 

“So - when are we leaving?” You asked, trying to sound confident and firm in your words even though you knew what was likely coming next. 

You felt intensely disappointed when the all too predictable outcome smashed you in the face. 

“You’re not coming with us.” Fred said quietly. 

“Why not?” You argued gently. 

You would drop everything and go with them - you felt far more emotional attachment to being with Fred than you did to finishing your year at Hogwarts. You knew that you could be a useful hand around the shop. Any venture helping Fred would be a worthy one to you. But staring you down were the calculating eyes of someone who had been telling you over the past years how much he didn’t want to disrupt your studies with his antics, because he thought you had a ‘brilliant mind’, and you were ‘so much smarter’ than him and George. 

He thought that you could actually pull some decent - no, brilliant grades on your NEWTs and truly make something of yourself. The shop was a big dream of his and George��s, but Fred knew that you were destined for something so much greater that truly challenged and fully utilised your brilliance. So he wasn’t going to let you be dragged down to mediocrity by him. 

Realising this, part of you still ached. Why was he so intent on leaving if it meant leaving you behind? 

“Please don’t be stupid-” Fred sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, so I’m stupid now?” You scoffed. 

He hadn’t meant to let the harsh word leave his lips - at least, he hadn’t meant it in such a harsh way. 

“Y/N-” Fred used your actual name, something he rarely did, but you barreled right over whatever he was going to say with your next words. 

You were hurting now, and you didn’t entirely care what he had to say. 

“If I’m so stupid, then why should I even bother to stay here and take my NEWTs?” You hissed, twisting around his accidental slip into something he had never meant. “Or am I too stupid to even work at a silly little joke shop with you?” 

Fred scowled deeply. It didn’t suit him. 

“Y/N, this ‘silly little joke shop’ has been my dream since I was five years old!” He barked, now taking your heat of the moment words and running away with them. “You don’t-” 

“I guess I was stupid enough to believe that I was part of that dream!” You cried out in return, cutting off his words once again. 

‘You are.’ He choked down the words. ‘But I can’t bear to bring you down just because I want to be with you. I could never be so selfish.’ 

“I-” He choked on whatever he was going to say, swallowing it down. “I can’t do this right now.” 

He moved to storm off completely, hoping to speak with you later when you both had calmed down, hoping to have a proper, happy goodbye with you before he and George actually left. 

But your next words made him freeze on the spot, and wiped away all of those hopes within him. 

“Fred Weasley, if you walk away, we’re done.” You said, now choking on tears. 

You were utterly insulted that he wouldn’t even fight for you - that he wouldn’t even promise that his heart would be waiting for you after you graduated. To you, it was a sure sign that he was saying that his shop was more important to him than you were. That you were just some stupid schoolgirl fling to him; that along with the shop, he wanted to move on to other women, to find someone that he actually wanted to marry. 

You had never been a part of the dream he had for his life - you had just been a passing fancy in his eye. 

For Fred, it was all too painful. This was the conversation he had been utterly dreading since he and George had decided to take their leave, and it was going far worse than he had planned in his head. He couldn’t face the pain - he couldn’t face hurting you. He couldn’t face missing you, even during a few short months apart before you did graduate. 

So he then did something so terribly stupid, looking to bomb the relationship wide open - hoping to end all of the pain before it even started. 

“Good.” He said, barely turning his head to even look over his shoulder at you. “Would’ve been a waste of parchment writing to you, anyway.” 

With those final, painful words, he stomped off down the stairs, leaving you to collapse against one of the nearby walls in a puddle of tears - for the first time in a long time, without Fred to muffle your sobs in a comforting hug. 

You hadn’t been there to watch him and George ride off on their brooms when they finally gave Umbridge everything she deserved - you had been locked in your dorm, sobbing into your pillow because of that horrible, relationship ending fight. You had only heard from other people later that they had left Hogwarts in a blaze of glory, and you were the only person who knew for certain where they had gone and what their plans were now. 

You hated to admit it - but you missed Fred Weasley. 

You tried your hardest to get over him. You threw yourself into your studies, and you did pass your NEWTs with some of the highest marks in your class. But then, any thought of what potential career you might take on was tossed aside when the world went into upheaval at the hands of Death Eaters. And unintentionally, you were right back at Fred’s side again. 

It was a dreadful thing - being forced to see your ex on such a frequent basis. 

The last time being just a few short days ago when he had come into the Apothecary that you worked at in Diagon Alley, looking for some ingredients for a new WWW product that he wanted to make a test batch of. You had still spent last Christmas with his family, at the nagging insistence of Molly. After your mother had turned up dead and your father was missing, and you had to face the fact that he had likely defected to the Death Eaters out of fear (and the stupidity of his ingrained ‘old ways’), you didn’t really have any other family to turn to, aside from the Weasleys. 

You saw Fred a lot more often than you should - more often than you wanted to, in fact. Because the more often you had to see him walk into your shop with a grin on his face and bear the small talk he would force you into before he finally put in his order, the more you ached. You wanted nothing more than to be able to get away - to go someplace far away that Fred would never find you, so that you could finally heal, could finally get over the way he had broken your heart. 

But the country, and likely the state of all Wizardkind, was in upheaval. So many lives were at risk, and you had your part to play. You had signed on to become a member of the Order the minute you turned seventeen, and you weren’t prepared to shirk that commitment now, just because of a bit of girlish heartbreak. 

It was the reason that you were standing in the now empty residence of Number Four, Privet Drive. You had been called upon last minute to replace Tonks on this particular mission, for reasons that everyone seemed tight lipped about. But you weren’t going to question it - you were just going to step up and do your duty so that Harry could be transported safely, and hopefully go on to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. 

According to Mad-Eye Moody, it was all very straight forward. Six of the fourteen members of the group would take Polyjuice Potion to turn themselves into decoy versions of Harry, making for seven Harrys in total, and the other half of the group would pair off with a Harry each to be their escort. 

You weren’t a huge fan of the idea of Fred disguising himself as Harry, essentially putting a huge target on his back - but the plan had already been set in place. He had already agreed to it. There was no room for you to protest now. 

“We’re not a big fan of the idea either, mate.” George spoke up when Harry protested against the idea of people risking their lives by being disguised as him. 

“Yeah, imagine something went wrong, then we’d be stuck as a scrawny, specky git forever.” Fred added on with his usual humorous tone. 

You held back a laugh at this comment, and everyone in the room eyed you harshly as you choked on your own breath. Fred smirked, proud that after all this time, he could still draw a laugh out of you. 

Your sense of humour about the whole situation was soon stamped out when Mad-Eye mentioned brooms. The group would have to be flying because Harry couldn’t apparate or use any other common form of transport without the Ministry knowing. 

“Brooms?” You questioned, knowing that your tone sounded far too panicked. “We - we’re flying?” 

“Yes.” Mad-Eye snipped curtly in return. “What exactly about my explanation was unclear, Ms. L/N?” 

His sharp tone and his glare in your direction, along with his use of your surname, instantly transported you back you Defense Against the Darks Arts classes in your sixth year, when you had been intimidated by the man - even if, strangely enough, you hadn’t been taught by the same man who now stood before you. 

You swallowed tightly, a large lump forming in your throat already - an involuntary, wicked reaction overtaking your body because of your fear of heights. Fred looked at you with sad knowing in his eyes, and you didn’t notice when he clenched his fists tightly at his sides, resisting the urge to swaddle you in a comforting hold. 

“Nothing was unclear, just-” You stuttered, breathing in deeply, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t have much experience with flying, and-” 

“Weasley - er - Fred, has already informed me of that.” Mad-Eye said, correcting himself when he realised just how many ‘Weasleys’ were on this mission and how utterly confusing that would get. “He’s insisted on taking you due to your lack of experience. Is that all?” 

Obviously, you didn’t want to publicly admit to your fear. You couldn’t reveal it as the terrible weakness that it was, especially not when there were so many other worries at play. 

“Yes, it’s fine.” You said, nodding, trying to keep the conversation short and keep the attention off you. 

“Good. Now if we’re all done dawdling, we need to get to work.” 

It was downright strange seeing Fred transformed into Harry. 

Even complete with the dorky clothes and the glasses, you still easily spotted him out of the crowd of ‘specky gits’. Maybe it was the years of practice that you had telling him apart from George that made it so easy for you, but he was still so irritably Fred. The fact that he slid his wand into his back pocket - something you had warned him dozens of times would likely result in the wand crunching in half and breaking when he sat down (and annoyed you to the point of you snatching it out of his back pocket to save it, especially before he sat down). The way he reached up to scratch his nose, the smirk on his face when he kept glancing over at the other Harry you were sure had to be George. Especially with the way they were steadily side-eyeing each other, speaking volumes with their looks and having a silent conversation that nobody else knew of. 

The fact that his eyes kept flickering to you every few moments definitely helped you to pick him out of the crowd. Even though you were used to a gentle hazel gazing at you rather than that piercing blue, there was still a unique concern behind his eyes when he looked at you from beyond those spectacles - the same kind of gentle seriousness that you hadn’t really seen from him since he had held your shaking hand on the stairs of the stands on the day of The World Cup. 

Stupidly, it only really occurred to you how close you would have to be with Fred, tightly riding behind him on the back of his broom, when you went outside and he ushered you to climb onto the back of his broom behind him. It had been a little over a year since you had broken up with Fred, and since then, you had not touched him. 

Every greeting had been friendly, but from a distance. Even when he came into the Apothecary and laid his hand on the counter, you snaked out of the way in time to avoid his fingers so much as brushing by yours. You always laid his order on the counter for him to pick it up himself, so that his fingers wouldn’t accidentally brush against yours. You made sure never to have contact with him. And now, you were being forced to climb onto the back of his broom, to hold him tight. 

But you couldn’t protest. You couldn’t demand to switch partners now because of some petty angst you were harbouring about a break-up that had happened so long ago. (Would you call it angst, or stupid, longing, painful heartbreak?) You couldn’t complain - not when this was about transporting Harry safely. This was about something so much bigger. 

Sure, it wouldn’t be exactly the same as holding onto your Fred (not that he was yours anymore - you had to remember that). He was Harry-Fred right now, so he was much shorter and thinner, and you could easily pretend that he wasn’t Fred at all. Which is what you forced yourself to think about as you swung a shaking leg over the broom and climbed on, wrapping your arms around his waist, preparing for take-off. 

It was a bit harder to pretend that this wasn’t Fred when you caught the faintest whiff of his expensive cologne (something he had only started wearing once the shop took off, something you noticed on him for the first time when he came to visit you at the Apothecary). It was definitely still lingering on his skin, something that was so painfully Fred even while you stared at the back of Harry’s wild black hair. 

It pierced your heart a little bit more when he peered over his shoulder at you, striking you as so Fred with those somehow warm, caring blue eyes and gently asking: 

“Good?” 

To which you replied: 

“m fine.” 

The most terrible lie you had ever conjured - something that was soon covered up by Mad-Eye shouting some last minute instructions and waving everyone off. 

When Fred kicked off the ground, you were immediately met with the most sickening wave of nausea that you had ever experienced in your life. You got way too high up for your liking within seconds, the houses on the ground growing far too small in your view, and you couldn’t fight the urge to shut your eyes. 

Unfortunately, it only made you dizzier, but it calmed your nerves a slight bit. You didn’t even realise how tightly you were clutching onto Fred, an utter death grip around his waist, until you heard him let out a grunt of pain from his stomach muscles being strangled by your arms with your fingers digging into him like claws, holding on for dear life. 

“S-sorry.” You stuttered out, shivering from the pure fear of it all, rather than the cool breeze that was whipping at your face. “Sorry, sorry!” 

“I’m sorry!” Fred replied - it was still strange hearing him speak in Harry’s voice, and you were glad that it was temporary. “I should have told them you weren’t up to this mission, I-” 

“I’m fine!” You barked back, hating the idea that your fear would make you unfit for a mission. But in a sense, you knew it was true. You would have spit in the face of any Death Eater, but your fear of heights was so utterly crippling. “Fred, don’t you dare for a moment suggest-” 

“We’ve been breached!” You heard someone - Arthur’s voice, shouting from up ahead. 

Your eyes whipped open and suddenly, you were filled with an entirely different kind of fear. Smoky black clouds of Death Eaters whipped through the sky around you - somehow, they had discovered the plan. And now, they were targeting all of the fake Harrys, firing off curses in every direction, looking for the real one. 

They were targeting Fred. 

That was the only thing at the forefront of your mind - they were going to hurt Fred. 

“Y/N-?” 

“Just get us out of here!” You told him. “I’ll cover you!” 

You knew that you couldn’t close your eyes now. Of course you would step up to protect him. No matter if the two of you were lovers, friends, or something estranged - you still loved him in your heart, and you would protect him no matter what. 

You grabbed your wand out of your jacket and gripped it stiffly, firing a stunning curse at the first silver mask you saw, still tightly gripping onto Fred’s jacket with your other hand. He used both his hands on the broom, gripping tighter with his legs to steer better, years of Quidditch honed skill coming in handy. His ability to be calm and fly mindfully while Bludgers were flying at his head made him a lot calmer with multiple Death Eaters firing potentially deadly curses all around him. In the back of his mind, he thought that Wood would be proud. 

You were still shaking horribly, and a few of your spells didn’t land on the first try, but you kept trying. You centred yourself, remembering what you were doing, who you were here for. In your mind, it wasn’t about Harry, it was never about Harry - it was about Fred. It was because Fred had approached you about the last minute replacement, it was because Fred was the one on the broom in front of you, the one you would have died to protect. 

You didn’t see when someone Apparated in a thick cloud of black smoke behind you, and raised their wand in your direction, hitting you squarely in the back with a heavy jinx. It was the force of a brick wall smacking you, something that sent you and Fred tumbling end over end through the sky and sent you flying cleanly off the broom because you didn’t have the instinct to grip the wood with your thighs like he did. 

You let out a shrill scream as you felt yourself falling, your worst fear coming to life. 

Thankfully, Fred was quicker than gravity - quicker than death. 

He laser focused on you, and suddenly, everyone else was gone. All the supposed danger, all the Death Eaters - even other members of the Order who might have needed his help - they all vanished in his eyes. 

It was only you. 

He turned the broom into a deadly nose dive, racing down toward you, reaching with his hand out, and in seconds, while you were still hundreds of feet off the ground - he snatched you. He had your wrist gripped so tightly in his hand - slightly sweaty, already slipping. But he wouldn’t have let go of you if Lord Voldemort himself commanded it.  

He likely would have died with that tight grip still around your wrist in those moments if someone had hit him with the killing curse. 

He slowed the broom down, turning up out of the dive, intent to get you away from the fight, driving forward. Scarily, his arm muscles were already shaking from holding up all of your body weight. 

You stared up at him with tears of pure terror dancing in your eyes, and though he was wearing the mask of The Chosen One - in those moments, the terrified, caring, loving eyes of your Fred were staring right back at you. 

As much as you trusted him, you felt yourself slipping out of his grip, and more fear swelled inside of you. 

“Freddie, help me!” You screamed, shaking, flailing under his grip, trying to reach your other arm up to help as he struggled to hold onto you. “Freddie, please, I don’t wanna die!” 

“I’m not gonna let you die!” He replied, desperation gripping his throat. “Just - look at me. Don’t look down.” 

Of course, you were distinctly reminded of that day at The World Cup. And somehow, you felt the same sense of safety with him now that you did then - even if you didn’t have the railing or even the gravity of something under your feet. 

His muscles shook harder, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold onto you for much longer. 

He had to pull you up. 

“I’ve got you.” Fred huffed, straining with the effort. “I’ve got you-” 

He tried pulling you up, but his muscles shook harder in protest, and he let out a harsh, murderous scream of frustration. And then he did the only thing that he could think to do. He gripped onto you tighter, and he used his legs and his other hand to do a sickeningly sharp barrel roll, twisting the broom completely around by leaning with his right shoulder. He flipped the entire broom with the hopes that you would get the chance to be flipped back onto it safely. 

Luckily, even though you let out another terrified scream, you got the hint and hooked your leg around the wood mid-air, holstering your shaking body back behind him. You gripped onto Fred even tighter then, and one glance around told you that luckily, or unluckily, the fight had cleared off from around the two of you. 

Perhaps they had heard you call this imposter Harry by the name ‘Fred’, perhaps you had given the real Harry away and ruined the whole plan. As you squeezed your eyes shut again and shoved your now tearful face into Fred’s back, selfishly, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care. 

The rest of the trip went on too long for your liking - you were still crawling with anxiety and eager to have your feet back on the ground. 

Toward the end of it, you felt Harry-Fred’s body shift back into the tall, more muscular form that you were familiar with (somehow a bit more muscular than you remembered, but you tried not to get caught up on that detail). You were more than relieved when you felt your feet brushing against the ground with the landing. Distantly, you heard the familiar, comfortingly worried baulking of Molly’s voice, and you opened your eyes to see that Fred’s head was much higher up than it had been before, and his hair was thankfully returned back to its bright red state. 

Molly rushed over to Fred, and there was some conversation, but you couldn’t make it out - blood was thumping in your ears, your body still overtaken by all the horrible symptoms of your fear. The moment that Fred dropped the broom in order to step away from it, you stumbled off into the grass on weak legs. 

You hardly realised that you were hyperventilating - you simply felt dizzy, felt your chest aching from the lack of breath; you noticed that your vision was blurred with tears, and you knew that you weren’t getting enough oxygen. You pressed now muddy hands to your face in desperation, trying to usher more air past your lips, and it was then that a streak of orange fell into your view as Fred dropped to his knees in front of you. He had heard you gasping, and of course, rushed to you with nothing more than concern flooding his system once again. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He murmured, trying his best not to panic himself at seeing you like this - he gently took a hold of your face, guiding your vision toward him. “Look at me. You’re alright now. You’re safe.” 

Of course you knew that. You knew that you would always be safe with Fred. 

But your body hadn’t even registered the fact that you had landed yet - the panic only now fully setting in, bringing with it the most cruel, shocking symptoms you had ever experienced. You did the only thing you could think of - the only thing that would truly make you feel safe. Something you knew would truly ground you after experiencing such chaos so high up in the air. 

You launched yourself toward Fred, pressing your face into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist in a firm hug as you tried to stifle down sobs. He easily accepted this, his thick arms coming to cradle your back, selfishly thankful to have you back in his arms. He gently rocked you back and forth as he peppered more soothing words beside your ear. 

“You’re alright now, darling.” He said, letting the pet name slip so easily that it frightened him. He rubbed a hand up and down your back, feeling your gasping panic all too quickly soothe away under the firm warmth of his touch. “You’re alright.” 

Almost instinctively, he laid a kiss on your temple, not entirely realising that this wasn’t necessarily something an ex-boyfriend would do - he was so ripe with the urge to comfort you, the need to make your pain go away. He couldn’t help but take a little something selfish as the empathetic waves of your panic echoed over to him. 

“I was never gonna let you fall.” He whispered, almost speaking these words to himself - a sacred promise. 

He had regretted every day since the break-up, and even if he couldn’t be your lover, he was never going to let you get hurt. 

You gripped him tighter, your breathing almost back to normal now, and you pushed your face tighter into his chest, relishing in the firm warmth of his body against you. This was something you hadn’t felt in far too long. Fred placed another kiss on the top of your head. He was about to say something entirely dangerous when another bit of chaos came tumbling through the garden, distracting him away from you and causing the words to die off in his throat. 

Remus, hauling George across the grass - and George, slumped over, a massive amount of blood dripping down the side of his head. 

“Georgie.” Fred gasped quietly. 

Your head whipped around at this, and in sync, you and Fred scrambled to your feet, rushing to see what had happened to him. Fred lifted George’s other arm to help get him inside and safely rested him on the couch. 

It was a horror show. 

The flesh of George’s ear had been blown to bits, blood smearing down across his face and spilling down the side of his neck; he was sickly pale and barely conscious. His eyes only flickered, giving you some sense of life in him when Fred called out his name after making sure he was resting comfortably on the couch. 

“Georgie?” 

There was a rare quiver in Fred’s voice that made your stomach quake. Fear. You were not accustomed to hearing Fred fearful, not of anything. Even when he had abandoned Hogwarts and dove into a career as a shop owner without a single clue if he would find success, he did so without a single bit of fear in his heart. 

But of course - seeing his dear brother like this, knowing that someone he loved had been so close to danger - it made him terrified. 

“Hey, Fred.” George croaked back weakly. 

At least he was conscious enough to speak. That gave you quite a bit of relief. 

“How’re ya feeling?” Fred asked. 

“Saint-like.” George replied, a tired smirk gracing his lips that told you he was forming a joke - something that was utterly hilarious in his mind that would only make sense to others when he delivered the punch line. 

You wanted to sob, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream. Of course he would be making jokes only moments after nearly being killed. 

“Come again?” Fred said quietly, tentatively. 

Perhaps it sounded partially dangerous to him like it did to you. Perhaps George felt Saint-like because he was too close to death. 

Both of you and Fred held your breath as you waited for the reply. 

“Saint-like.” George grinned. And then he lifted a tired hand and gestured toward the bloody hole on the side of his head before he delivered his glowing punchline. “I’m holy. I’m holy, Fred. Get it?” 

Fred grinned, and you let out a gasping chuckle that you knew was mostly tears. Behind you, Molly inhaled sharply through her teeth, running a hand over her forehead with the stress, and Ginny shook her head as she exhaled an exhausted sigh. 

“The whole wide world of ear related humour, and you go for ‘I’m holy’?” Fred replied, unable to resist humouring George. “That’s pathetic.” 

You knew that if either of them knew anything about the story of the Muggle painter Van Gogh, then they would have been making jokes in that lane. 

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” George added on tiredly. 

“You were always better looking than him.” You said, your voice throttled by tears, unable to resist. 

When you turned around to retreat, you saw Ginny clutching onto Molly, clearly hiding tears in her mother’s shoulder, Molly’s face dancing with a kind of sadness you had never seen before. You knew you couldn’t run from your pain. You had known the Weasleys for so long, loved them too much. You had a distinct kind of duty here. 

“Molly, do you have a cauldron around?” You asked, hating how choked with tears your voice was. “I can whip-up something for his pain. I do it at the shop all the time. And a Sleeping Draught, so he can get some rest.” 

It was true - one of your many duties working at the Apothecary was making and bottling simple, common potions to sell (pregnancy test potions, simple multi-use pain potions, Dreamless Sleep Draughts, cures for warts and other common rashes) - many people liked the convenience of coming in and buying a potion for everyday uses rather than having to make it themselves. 

“There’s no need-” George began to protest, but Fred easily cut him off. 

“Come off it.” Fred hissed toward his brother, not taking kindly to ‘selfless’ idea of George not accepting something for the pain he was clearly in. Then, Fred rose up from his place beside George and turned to you with a look of intense concern on his features. “Whatever you need.” 

… 

You had barely begun to set up everything you needed for the brewing when the others finally came in, bringing more chaos with them. Remus accused Harry of being an imposter, which was quickly proven false. Apparently the Order had been betrayed, which explained the presence of Death Eaters on the mission so easily. They had used inside information to know when Harry was being transported - it was only luck that they had been thrown off by the Polyjuice Potion, having to chase down multiple Harrys and not knowing which one was real (even if George got gravely injured in the process). 

Mad-Eye had been killed. 

You weren’t sure if what you felt was mourning for the man. You hadn’t known him all that well. Not the true version of him, anyway. You continued to weep quietly as you worked on the potions, but you knew it wasn’t specifically for him. His death only served to remind you how truly dangerous the mission had been - how close you, Fred, and George, and the others had all come to death. How lucky it was that nobody else had been killed. 

You tried not to let the suffocating gloom that had overtaken the Burrow due to the near failure of the entire mission disrupt the process of making the potions needed for George. When Molly didn’t have some of the ingredients that you needed, you gave Fred your spare key to the Apothecary and he popped over to get them for you. Mr. Michaelchuk, who ran the place, had always told you to ‘take what you needed’, and this was the one time you had actually taken him up on the offer. 

When Fred returned, he fussed at George’s side, helping him change into pyjamas (when everyone else had cleared out) and tucking him in comfortably to a makeshift bed on the couch, with lots of pillows and extra cosy blankets, to the point where he got annoyed with Fred coddling him. You always knew that the two were good friends in addition to being brothers, as close as two people can be, but you had never seen so much abundant affection between them. It was sweet. 

Molly came back downstairs wearing a plaid dressing gown, with a pair of tiny reading glasses balanced on her nose, her slippers scuffing along the floor. She mentioned that Arthur was already ‘snoring away’ - but of course, she had no intentions of going to bed herself. Because of course, if George was down here on the couch, it was so that she could watch over him while she busied herself with knitting - much like she had when Arthur had been on the ward at St. Mungo’s after he had been attacked by the snake. You had gotten a particularly nice jumper for Christmas that year, one that you still wore often when it got particularly cold outside. 

Fred had settled to sit on the couch by George’s feet, and the two had fallen into a hushed conversation, though you didn’t hear most of it. And of course, it wasn’t long before Molly rushed Fred off to bed, just like she had done with everyone else, wanting to give George the space to rest without distractions from visitors. 

“-just get her back, you idiot.” You hear George hiss in a whisper before Molly pushed Fred toward the stairs. 

He couldn’t possibly be talking about…? 

No. 

No, he wasn’t. 

You didn’t think about it. Instead, you let yourself get lost in the meditative process of brewing, making sure that the potions were perfect. You made sure that George was pain-free and lost to a deep, restful, healing sleep (with a few pre-brewed bottles of the potions to spare that would keep his pain at bay for the next few days) before you finally went upstairs, ready to collapse with exhaustion. 

You passed by Fred and George’s room on your way to your final destination, Ginny’s room, where you would be staying with her and Hermione, from now up until Bill and Fleur’s wedding. After which, you would return to your apartment above the Apothecary and try to resume your best sense of ‘normal’ life. All of your things were already unpacked in Ginny’s room, and you had a sleeping bag set up on the floor there. 

But of course, you naturally came to a stop at the mouth of Fred’s open bedroom doorway, letting an instinctive caring overtake you and participating in the need to check on him. 

The sight you saw made your heart ache. 

Fred was sitting on the edge of his twin bed, his posture slumped with pure exhaustion. He hadn’t even changed out of the now ill-fitting Harry clothes that he had to wear for the mission: jeans, a tee shirt, and a grey sport jacket that were now coated in dirt and traces of George’s blood, all oddly short in the limbs and emphasising his tallness, his hands still stained bright red in a way that couldn’t be washed off. 

His face was marked with tear tracks, and his tired, dead gaze was fixated on George’s still neatly made matching twin bed. A space that was hauntingly empty across from his - a sign that his brother was missing. A sign of just how easily someone precious could have been taken from him that night. 

“Freddie?” 

You croaked out, the nickname slipping out in a way you couldn’t control once again, causing him to snap out of whatever distant, depressing thoughts he was caught in. His head jolted toward you, only now realising that you had been standing in the doorway for so long. 

“Y/N,” He responded, his voice choked by tiredness, sadness. 

It was so alarmingly strange to see someone who was usually the pinnacle of laughter reduced down to this. You had never seen Fred Weasley so sad before. 

You had seen him angry, on occasion - like when someone insulted you, or when he had been banned from Quidditch for getting into a fistfight with Malfoy. You had seen him annoyed - like when he found out that the age to enter the TriWizard Tournament was seventeen, and he was only a few months away from being eligible. (You were thankful for that one, and secretly thankful when his Ageing Potion had failed). 

You had seen Fred go through a lot - but you genuinely believed that was the first time you had seen him so deflated in the face of the world. 

He rose to his feet, turned his back to you, almost as if trying to hide. He raised a hand to his face, and your heart ached more when you realised that he was trying to wipe away tears. 

“Come on, let’s get you ready for bed.” You said, moving forward, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, moving up to peel the sport jacket off him. 

You knew that the sadness, something he so rarely felt, had paralyzed him. You knew that sleep was what all of you needed right now - some rest to get your heads on straight. And you wanted to help him in any way that you could. 

“I can’t-” Fred huffed, stepping away from you, putting some distance between the two of you in the small room. “I can’t do this right now.” 

Your stomach curled into a horrible knot as he echoed the words he had spoken to you on that horrible day, when he had broken up with you and relinquished himself from your presence without a second thought. 

It truly hit you then - he didn’t want your help. He didn’t want to be near you now. He had only held you close a few hours ago because it had been a matter of life and death. He had helped to calm you down because it was the friendly thing to do. He didn’t want you here now. 

“Okay.” You choked out, nodding, taking a step toward the door. “O-okay.” 

A hot tear rolled down your face, and you moved to make your way toward Ginny’s room. You were harshly whipped across the emotional spectrum again when Fred stopped you. 

“Y/N, no.” He said, reaching out and grabbing onto your elbow. “Wait.” 

“What, Fred?” You wheezed, your body breathless and exhausted from the horrible roller coaster that you had been on that night. You knew that you glared at him horribly, but you couldn’t help it. “What is it that you want from me?” 

Fred took a step back, as though you had burned him, running stiff hands through his hair. You could have easily run off, turned your back on him and never spoken to him again. Just like he had done to you on that day so long ago. But you waited with your chest tight, waiting for him to finally give you an answer. Did he want to be friends? Did he want you to disappear from his life completely? Did he want-? 

“I can’t-” He choked out, clearly struggling for breath. “I can’t…” 

He swallowed around a fat tongue, and after a heavy moment, he finally got the words out. 

“I can’t lose you.” 

The words spooked you more than the sight of George’s bloodied, blown-apart ear. 

You stared Fred down with a ghost in your eyes, somehow more terrified than you had been when you had been dangling hundreds of feet above London. He was frantic, rapidly searching for more words to explain himself. 

“I - I almost…” He gasped, his throat tightly constricting again. “You almost slipped out of my hands.” 

He spoke the words as though they were a horrible curse, raising his hands in front of him as if to demonstrate the point, as if to demonise his own limbs for not having enough strength to hold you up. His hands shook with undistilled anxiety, with anger towards himself. 

His declaration gave you that sickly sense of nausea, as though you were back up in the air again. You realised that maybe he hadn’t been sitting on the edge of the bed, mourning about potentially losing George - but instead, he had been thinking about you. 

“I didn’t. I didn’t slip.” You replied, the words choked off in your throat, rushing to assure him of the good he had done. 

You were unable to resist the urge to reach out and take his hands in yours, steadying his grip with a firm anger of your own. You were unsure how he could be so cruel toward himself when he had saved your life only hours before. 

“You held me up, Fred. You didn’t let me fall.” 

He let out a huff, shaking his head negatively. 

You knew there was something more troubling him - something deeper that he had yet to speak of, or perhaps wouldn’t tell you at all. He grinded his jaw tightly and slipped his hands away from yours. You stood there, looking at him tensely, wondering if he was going to clue you in, or if he would simply say goodnight and let himself stew with whatever horrible emotions he was feeling. 

“I can’t live like this.” He declared harshly, his throat raw. “I can’t live with you at arm’s length.” 

So what? Was he saying that… he was upset about the break-up? 

Was he saying that he hadn’t actually wanted to be apart from you? 

A look of pure confusion knit across your features, and in the murky silence, Fred moved on to explaining. 

“I let you go once before.” 

He whispered, the words so quiet on his lips, a crazed type of regret dancing in his eyes - in an instant, you knew he wasn’t talking about the mission or flying. He was talking about how easily he let you go from his life - the break-up. 

“I let you slip away from me far too easily. And it was the stupidest thing I have ever done.” 

“Freddie-?” You choked out, more chaotic emotions rocketing through your body now. Anticipation, anxiety - that love for him that you had bottled away slowly creeping back in. But you couldn’t bear to let it flow through you, not yet, not until you knew. 

“If one of us were to die tomorrow, I couldn’t live my last day knowing that I wasted it not being yours.” He declared, the pure passion in his words causing every small hair on your body to stand up on end, making you dizzy. “I know that I’m the biggest git on earth for what I did to you, and for not apologising sooner, but please, please, please, darling-” 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You grabbed both sides of the sport jacket and used it to haul him down toward you, planting your mouth firmly onto his, moaning into a kiss that you had longed for, having so sorely missed the touch of his lips on yours. 

You had missed him so damn much. 

Fred was quick to keep up, letting out a delighted sigh of his own, his stomach doing flips in delight, almost in disbelief of just how lucky he was that you hadn’t slapped him across the face and stormed out. 

When your hands ventured down, smoothing across his body - he became even more delighted that you seemed to want more than a kiss out of him. And he was quick to prepare. 

He reached to his back pocket for his wand and pointed it at the still open bedroom door, performing a quick spell that slammed it shut and locked it. In the back of his mind, he was thankful that his bedroom had some silencing wards around it from the days when Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had been in its infancy, operating their prototype experiments out of this room in the darkest hours of the morning. (Percy got sick of being woken up by the twins’ excited voices and the sound of sputtering cauldrons, and put the silencing wards around their room for his own sake, not knowing how much more it let the twins get away with.) 

Fred was surprised when you took another fitful grip on the front of his shirt, using it to direct him back toward his bed and shoving him down onto it with a strength that he barely knew you had. He fell sideways across the small twin bed, his knees crumbling along the side of the mattress, leaving him sitting with his feet on the floor and his body half collapsed against the tightly tucked-in covers that his mother had prepared before everyone’s arrival. 

He was utterly weak to your whims, anyway, and would have gone wherever you put him. 

He was expecting you to climb on top of him, something needy inside of him yearning for the feeling of your body on top of his after missing it for so long. And he found himself further surprised when you dropped to your knees in front of him, settling your shoulders between his spread thighs, forcing him to spread his legs wider apart to accommodate you. The action spiking a sharp breath out of his lips when you shoved up the hem of the shirt that technically wasn’t his and reached for the button on the jeans that fit him even worse as his cock grew to life underneath them. 

“Y/N, darling-” He choked out, breathy and sharp through his teeth, an intense wave of lust hitting him all at once. 

All night, both of you had been through the emotional ringer - calm determination, fear, possessiveness, mild relief, grief. All while trying to hold back your emotions for each other, balancing right on the edge. Trying desperately to hold each other at arm’s length. 

And now he had you right where he wanted you, where he had been dreaming of you being for months since the break-up; and for some stupid reason, some part of him still felt that it was wrong. That part of him screaming that he should be the one on his knees serving you, that he needed to better apologise-

He reached for your shoulder, clearly trying to coax you back up onto the bed with him, and you swatted the touch away. 

“Don’t-” You choked in return, continuing on your determined path, ripping his zipper down and tugging at the waistband of his jeans. “Freddie, please. Let me do this.” 

You looked up at him with a glassy heat in your eyes that he had never seen before. All the times he had pinned you against walls in quiet corners at Hogwarts, with his hand up your skirt - he had never seen you so wild, so desperate. 

Something utterly possessive rippled through you - something that screamed that you needed to have him weak and moaning for you, that you needed to worship him, to thank him for doing the impossible and saving your life. He was a strong, wonderful man and you needed to taste that strength. You needed to know that you were the only thing that could have him weak, quivering, begging. 

“Fuck-” Fred hissed out when you reached past the band of his underwear and grabbed his cock - your warm touch wrapped around his shaft felt like a deadly awakening, especially when it had been so long since anything but his own had had touched his cock. 

All too soon, he surrendered to you entirely and lifted his hips, slipping the fabric of his jeans and his underwear down completely past his thighs, letting you have whatever you wanted from him. He supposed that’s how it always went with the two of you - he would let you have whatever you wanted, even before you asked. (That’s why the break-up had gone down the way it had - it had been the one time he had been stubborn on something, not simply letting you have your own way.) 

You took him in your hand, slowly pumping his length as you admired him, gently re-familiarising yourself with his body, feeling like it had been far too long. 

“Did you miss it, darling?” He asked, looking down the length of his body at you with a cocky smile stretched across his soft lips. 

You rolled your eyes, hating the possibility of making his ego any larger. 

“Oh yes, your wonderful big cock was the thing I missed most about you,” You griped in return, hoping that your sarcastic tone was more than apparent. 

“I knew you only wanted me for my body.” Fred chuckled. 

As much as you wanted to deny it - Fred Weasley’s cock was a marvel that you couldn’t have forgotten if you had tried. 

During your time apart, it haunted your heated dreams, turning them into nightmares of pure want, your mind dangling something in front of you that you couldn’t have. It made things even worse when he would come into the Apothecary, flirting with you and flashing you a smile, showing off his broad shoulders in those fine tailored suit jackets and making your eyes flicker to his zipper in an utterly whorish way. 

Now, you felt spoiled to have it in front of you again - the perfect beastly eight inches, lean and tall just like he was, curved off slightly to the side, sticking off from a sparse patch of ginger hair. 

Your pussy clenched as you thought about having him inside of you again for the first time in so long, giving you that perfectly full feeling that your fingers never could - but you craved his taste first. You wanted him under your control - you knew part of it was driven by all the fear you had experienced that night, all the chaos that had made you feel so powerless. You needed to feel alive, needed to wield power over someone, something. 

You got your mouth on his cock with a downright feral hunger. 

Fred let out a deep moan and threw his head back, collapsing onto his elbows as the heat and wetness of your mouth enveloped the heat of his cock - it sent another wave of lust zipping through him, reminding him just how throbbing hard he was, just how much he needed you. This was made even worse when you moaned around him - you couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of his cock in your mouth, perfectly full, making you choke in such a beautiful way when you dropped down to take more of him. 

“Fuck, darling, shite-” 

You quickly became drunk on the feeling. 

Your eyes fell closed and you simply let yourself enjoy it, loving the fullness of his big, beautiful cock filling up your mouth. With a hand loosely wrapped around the base of his cock, your jaw wide as you began bobbing your head. Your tongue flat against the base, tasting as much of him as you could while you enjoyed the feeling of him so fat and thick in your mouth, gagging you slightly whenever the round tip hit against the back of your throat. It was a perfect, slow rhythm that agonised him and delighted you, and soon had spit pooling around your knuckles. 

The wetness drove him even more insane, especially when it allowed for your soft lips to move slicker against his shaft. 

“Goddammit, please, please, oh-” 

You could feel his thighs begin to quake and quiver beside you, and you wondered if he was close already. 

You couldn’t resist the urge to pull off - wanting to tease him a little. Part of you wanted that bit of revenge, wanting to get him back for the pain he had caused you when he had turned his back on you that day. Though you weren’t entirely cruel, and you didn’t leave him hanging out to dry completely. 

You kept your hand pumping on his now spit-slicked cock (it was that slow, agonising rhythm that caused him to pant like a needy dog), and you moved your mouth downward, giving in to the personal urge to lick and suck on his heavy balls. You did want to drive him a bit more insane, and give into your personal curiosity about what the heavy sac would feel like against your tongue. 

“Fucking - oh - darling, what are you doing to me-? That fucking mouth-” 

Fred wasn’t sure if this was heaven or hell. 

It left him stuck in some sick purgatory where the woman he loved had turned into a sex-crazed vixen, but wouldn’t let him touch you everywhere he wanted to most. Instead, he was sentenced to stare at you as your gorgeous mouth teased his aching cock, making him harder, driving him madder with every stroke of your little devilish tongue. He couldn’t take it anymore - not when your pretty fingers gripped around the base of his cock just right and your lips suctioned so perfectly around one of his bullocks. 

He wouldn’t waste the night cumming over your fist without getting his hands on you properly first. 

He weaved his fingers into your hair and yanked you back, caused you to let out a small yelp - not one of pain, but a bitter sound of complaint as you were pulled off his cock too early for your liking. The sharp tingle of him pulling on your hair caused your tongue to lull out, trailing a filthy bit of spit back to his balls that had him growling. 

Before any words could form, he leaned down and used this grip on your hair to guide you to his lips, shoving his tongue into your open, waiting mouth - something that had you moaning once again, and easily following his lead as he guided you up to sit on his thigh. 

“Don’t expect that I’m gonna waste it all over your hand, darling.” He murmured against your lips between heated kisses. “When I cum tonight, it’s gonna be deep inside your sweet cunt, yeah?” 

You moaned loudly at this. 

You had devolved past the point of words now - having his cock so thick and heavy in your mouth only making you fuzzy-headed and more needy for him. You unconsciously canted your hips against his thigh, grinding your pussy against him through the fabric of your jeans, needing more. You panted against his cheek as he moved deft fingers to undo the button and zipper of your pants while he continued to speak. 

“I need you, pretty girl.” 

He growled lowly in your ear, the pure passion of the declaration causing such intense waves of lust through you that you would have collapsed - if not for the brick wall of his muscled body holding you up. (Hold you up for the dozenth time that night, only for a drastically different reason this time). 

“I need to see you cum on my cock. Missed this pretty cunt so much, can’t wait-” 

He trailed off in his crazed lustful ramblings when he shoved his fingers past the now open fly of your jeans and into your underwear, quickly finding a distinct wetness and landing on your clit with a firm touch like a magnet. 

“Freddie!” You wept into his neck, bucking into the touch as you tumbled into a madness of your own. 

He began circling quickly on your clit, enjoying your gasps and other sounds, enjoying the feeling of you bucking so wildly on his thigh. All too soon, he was overtaken by a little pinch of mischief that always crept up on him. The urge to get you back for your earlier teasing. He quickly removed his hand and felt a smirk spread across his lips at the deflated little whimper you made, your eyes snapping open just in time to catch him licking your wetness off his fingers. 

“Fred-” You began to protest, sharp demanding in your tone. 

“Come on, get these clothes off,” He said, giving you a firm pat on the ass that made you far too weak to his whims. 

“Freddie-” You whined this time - and rather than giving into you, he brought up a fantastic point. 

“The faster you get your clothes off, the faster I can get my cock in you.” He whispered hotly against your ear, making you shiver. 

You hated that he was right. 

You stood up, moving to strip your shirt off over your head, glaring at him the whole time while he also began to strip himself. 

“Go on, good girl.” 

You hated how those words made you even wetter. You hated how easily he manipulated you based on weaknesses he knew so well. 

“I hate you.” You mumbled quietly, absolutely no heat in the words as you reached to unclip your bra. 

“Oh darling, if only that were true.” 

He said pointedly, mourning peeking through that bit of mischief in his eyes. Something you didn’t have too much time to decode as stood to his full height to untangle his jeans from his legs, knowing that you would quake in his shadow and become even more turned on from this. 

Once you were both naked, he ushered you down onto the bed, making sure that you were comfortable with your head on the pillow as he captured your mouth in another needy kiss. You moaned against his lips, easily sucking his tongue in as you tangled your fingers into that fiery red hair and gave an appreciative tug. You then tucked your knee up over his hip, opening yourself up to him - this caused his heavy cock to brush against your wetness, making you gasp into his mouth as the two of you made contact for the first time in far too long. 

“Freddie-” You gasped, unconsciously bucking your hips up, causing your pussy to wetly slide against his cock in a way that forced a deep groan out of him. “Oh, fuck, oh-” 

“Shh, darling, Daddy’s got you,” Fred replied, palming across your forehead and your hair in an almost gentle way while he further parted your thighs with a firm knee. 

His words caused you to choke on another moan. 

You had heard Fred refer to himself as ‘Daddy’ before - but much like everything else in his life, it was always a joke. He would be buying his favourite sweets and mumble ‘come to Daddy’ before tearing open the package and devouring them. He would say that his codename was ‘Big Daddy’ when setting up a particularly epic prank. (George was ‘Big Red’ and you were usually ‘Darling’ or ‘Garden Flower’. They were not the most useful or top secret codenames.) You had heard him jokingly shout ‘Daddy’s home’ when returning to the Gryffindor common room, only to have the expected laughs and jokes in return. 

You had never expected that the name would turn you on so much. But you had never, ever expected to hear it in this context. You had also never expected that it would sound so natural in this context. But it suited him so well. It seemed to only compliment the gentle kind of caring he gave you - how protective he was over you, how safe he made you feel. 

“Daddy,” You moaned in return - Fred gripped your hip with a deadly, bruising grip and looked at you with a fierce heat in his eyes. 

Hearing that word from your lips turned him on in a way he couldn’t explain. And in that moment, it took every bit of his personal will not to slam his cock into you and hammer his hips forward until you said it again, and again, and again. Until you screamed it. 

He took a hold of his cock with the other hand, and you expected him to slide into you, finally giving you both what you truly needed - but instead, he began rubbing the round head of his cock against your clit, further teasing you. You let out a gasp and looked at him with pleading in your eyes. 

“Freddie,” You whined, attempting to angle your hips up, fruitlessly trying to trick him to slip his cock inside of you. You knew him too well, knowing that once he got the tip in, he wouldn’t be able to resist fucking you senseless. But he held you down with the hand on your hip, making you barely able to move at all against his muscular hold and the awkward angle he had you pinned with. 

“Come on, sweets,” He purred, laying a kiss on your forehead, and then your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck as he murmured against your skin. “Tell Daddy what you need. Say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.” 

He began roughly smacking his cockhead against your clit, making you jolt and gasp sharper, making your pussy leak furiously against the bed. You cried out and gripped his hair tightly, almost meanly, desperate for the teasing to end. You didn’t see the way he was staring at your cunt, mesmerised by the sight of your swollen pearl kissing against his cock, glistening, wet and needy. Something that he would burn into his brain forever and most definitely revisit on lonely nights. 

“Please, Daddy!” You moaned, hoping the name alone would goad him into giving in. But you knew what he truly wanted, and you couldn’t wait any longer. “Please - fuck - I need your cock. I need you to fuck me, I need-” 

Perhaps he was truly satisfied by this, or perhaps he couldn’t take the teasing anymore himself - either way, he finally guided his cock down to your pulsing entrance and pushed in, swearing hotly under his breath when the tight, wet, perfect heat of your cunt began sucking him in for the first time in over a year. 

“Oh, oh fuck, Freddie,” You moaned, tugging on his hair. “Oh-” 

“Fucking perfect,” He swore into your ear. “Dammit, I’ve missed this pussy so much.” He choked on a groan as he continued slowly inching his hips forward, splitting you open with his massive length, making your pussy ache and burn in the most perfect way. “Good girl. So good for me. So good for Daddy,” 

You both moaned loudly once he was fully seated inside of you - you, feeling that deep satisfaction of feeling so perfectly full once again, and Fred so deeply enjoying the wet warmth of your pussy around him that was so irreplaceable because it was you. 

Sensing your need, especially after all his teasing, and after spending so long without him - he didn’t make you wait any longer. 

Fred began rocking his hips into yours at a gentle, even pace, not wanting to hurt you. From the sound of your gentle whines and the feeling of you squirming beneath him, he could tell that you needed more. He could tell that now wasn’t the time for holding back. 

He let out a gentle grunt and you became even more heated and curious as he began shifting around, some clear intent on his mind. You let out a sharp gasp when he raised himself up on his knees, poising himself in the perfect position to fuck you hard, deep, and powerful. Then, he made it even more deadly when he grabbed you by the backs of your thighs, making more air hiss out through your lips when he pressed your body practically in half, pressing your knees up toward your chest before he hooked his arms under your legs to keep them there and planted his hands firmly on either side of your chest. 

The two of you were even closer, even more intimate, and you felt him so much deeper inside of you. 

“Freddie,” 

You croaked out darkly, already feeling him so much deeper as he settled in above you. Your pussy was leaking furiously around him now, clenching tightly and waiting for him to move as a ghost of dark mischief danced through his eyes that promised you were in for the sweetest kind of hell. 

“Good?” He asked, smirking at you. 

“Yes, but what about-?” 

You wanted to warn him not to make too much noise, not to break the bed, which was already creaking in protest underneath the two of you - but he didn’t entirely care. Fred never truly cared about the consequences of his actions once he got an idea in his head - to him, the thrill was more than worth whatever pain may befall him. 

The only time that hadn’t been true was when he had made the foolish, heat-of-the-moment mistake of breaking up with you. And now, he had to make up for it. 

He put all the power into his muscled thighs (the same muscled thighs that had saved you just a few hours ago by gripping onto his broom and steadying the flight) - and ploughed forward with intense power. This began an unforgiving, hard rhythm of pounding into your cunt in hard, deep, fast strokes. 

In seconds, you were putty beneath him - he had you perfectly pinned in place so that you couldn’t have moved an inch if you wanted to, all you could do was lay there and take it. You were weak against the savage movements of his long cock fucking into your swollen pussy over and over again, filling you up in the best way you could have imagined, becoming everything you needed in the world. 

As the room filled with the harsh, wet slaps of his skin against yours and your weak moans, followed by his increasingly animalistic grunts - all there was in the world was you and Fred, the space where the two of you met, the place where he had your thighs pinned open so that his cock could absolutely ruin your pussy.  

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” He growled against your lips - you moaned pathetically in return, flooding even more wetness around his cock, making the sound of him fucking into you embarrassingly slicker. “Never should have let you go. Should have kept you right here, right where you belong,” 

You wanted to tell him that perhaps the fight was both of your faults, that you should have reached out to him sooner and told him that you wanted him back. That the time apart had been so dreadfully tender for you too. 

But your brain was soup, only further stirred up by the tip of his cock poking around in your guts. So any words you could have said chased out of your lungs with every passionate thrust of his hips up into your wet pussy, and all you managed in return was: 

“Daddy! Fuck, oh-!” 

“Shh, darling, I know.” Fred mumbled into your neck, taking a sloppy, greedy lick of your skin. “I know, sweets. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. Gonna keep you fucked n’ full. Never gonna let you go again. Never gonna let anyone else touch you-” 

Fred’s hips stuttered and you tightly squeezed around his cock at the words. 

Perhaps it was a wink of his personal insecurity peeking through. The horrifying idea that because he had broken up with you, you might find somebody else. When in fact, you had been so caught up on him, only thinking about him, waiting for him. (The whole time, thinking that he had broken up with you because he no longer had any favour in his heart for you.) 

“Just you, Freddie.” You breathed out, desperately trying to get air past your now very chapped lips. “Always yours-” 

“Yes, mine.” He replied, that crazed desperation returning to his voice. “Mine, my girl.” 

He sealed his lips against yours, grinding his hips tightly against your pelvis rather than fucking you with any kind of rhythm now - showing you just how deep he was inside of you, just how much he owned you, truly, from the inside out. It was something that made your stomach clench, made your body buzz with electricity, and made you whine around his tongue. 

You were close. 

Fred knew this - he knew you too well. He moved a hand down to your clit, letting one of your legs drop slightly, and had two determined fingers on your throbbing clit while he picked up the pace again, pulling his lips back from yours. 

“You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum for Daddy like a good girl?” 

His words, his velvet voice speaking to you so commanding yet so sweet, were what truly brought your orgasm to life in your belly. His voice made the fullness of his cock and the sharpness of his fingers on your clit all the more electric. You likely could have cum just from his words alone if he kept speaking to you that way. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You moaned in response. 

“Good girl. Come on,” 

He breathed hotly against your chin, his eyes now eagerly dancing from your face to the space where your cunt hugged his dick, leaking around him in such a wonderfully filthy way. Clearly, he wasn’t sure where he wanted to look, what part of the show he was more eager to witness after missing out on you for too long. 

“Come on, cum on my cock. Cum for me, love, good girl-” 

His heated words trailed off as your head snapped back and your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers digging sharply into his bicep as your orgasm rocked your body. Fred grunted as he continued to fuck you through it, his eyes glued to you, taking in every single inch of the sexy beauty that was you, the love of his life, as you thrashed and moaned and came on his cock. It was the most perfect sight he could have imagined, and he easily ingrained into his mind forever, praying that he would never have to miss out on it - to miss out on you - ever again. 

“Yes, yes darling, so good for me, so good-” He practically choked on his own words, his voice so thick with lust that it barbed the insides of his throat. 

As he felt the last weak spasms of your pussy around his cock, he stopped rubbing your sore clit and became possessed with a new need, becoming slightly selfish now. He fucked his hips forward even harder, determined to find his own pleasure inside the sweet, soft walls of your cunt. 

“Fucking hell-” He choked out a groan, dropping his head into your neck again as you petted through his hair, encouraging him through it while he unintentionally sent sharp zaps of overstimulation through your pussy with every needy, sharp push of his hips. 

“Freddie,” You breathed out. “Come on, Daddy, cum for me. You’ve been so good to me, come on-” 

He let you another loud growl and pounded into you harder, dropping his hold on your other knee and letting your legs rest to cradle around his waist as he blindly chased his own end inside your soft, wet cunt. 

“Gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up so good,” He whispered into your neck, chanting like a man possessed, sending another unexpected wave of heat through you that made you moan weakly. “All mine, all mine, darling, all mine, gonna give you what you need, fuck-” 

He tried to silence his moans into your neck as he stiffened his back and finally came - his own orgasm hitting him like a firework. He shoved his hips forward stiffly one last time, seating his cock deeply inside of you, stuffing you full, just like he had promised. He gentled grinded his hips against yours in mindless, stuttering strokes while he pumped spurts of hot cum deep inside of you - something that made your body buzz with even more heat and made you moan in return, clutching onto him tightly with your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. 

“Oh darling, oh-” He muttered quietly against your neck as the last waves of his orgasm washed over him. 

It was so perfect, and made you feel so utterly connected to him. It was a distinct reminder of everything you had missed - his warmth, his caring, the thrill he gave you while at the same time making you feel so damn safe. 

When Fred moved to pull away from you, moving to break that connection, every instinct in your body screamed that it was wrong. You clenched your legs around him, digging a heel into his lower back to keep him close, and he let out a grunt - still dizzy from his orgasm and unsure what you were doing. But he settled back into place, creating a filthy ‘squish’ between the two of you. 

“Just hold me.” You said, having no clue when the tears had returned to your eyes, making your voice so clearly wet. “I missed you. I can’t lose you.” 

“Hey, hey shh.” He said, leaning up to kiss along your cheek, rushing to kiss away those tears. “I’m right here with you, darling. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to lose me.” 

He wrapped his arms around you, wiggling his grip between your back and the mattress to do so. This created the most stunning cocoon, forcing your two bodies even closer together - it wasn’t long before he became soft inside of you, but he stayed there for as long as he reasonably could, kissing along your forehead, your cheeks, your neck, uttering quiet reassurances that you weren’t going to lose him, that you wouldn’t have to miss him any longer. 

It made you incredibly content and warm. At least while it lasted. 

When Fred finally pulled out of you, you felt a deep sense of dissatisfaction and loneliness, which you tried to ignore. Especially because you weren’t sure if he would want you to sleep in his bed - which was something that you wanted very much, especially after the long day you had. But you weren’t sure if he wanted to be left alone to contemplate all of it, to be sure of his decision to take you back. 

You jumped to get out of the bed as though it were on fire, and when you looked to your rumpled clothes on the floor - your jeans still stained with dirt from when you had collapsed in the garden, your shirt likely reeking of sweat from the nerves of everything that had happened - the idea of putting those clothes back on wasn’t exactly appealing. 

Then, something else came to mind. 

“My things are in Ginny’s room…” 

You sighed, realising that if you wanted a pair of pyjamas for the night, or even a fresh pair of underwear, then you would have to waltz in and wake her up - and likely be interrogated about where you had been. She was all too knowing anyway, and any excuses you gave about spending the time caring for George or simply having a ‘talk’ with Fred would be seen right through by her. 

Fred hummed, and stood, and you were surprised when he comfortably went over to the chest of drawers against the wall at the end of his bed, going right to the top drawer. The drawer where you used to keep some of your things when you stayed with the Weasleys on holidays - and surely enough, a small collection of your things were still in there. 

Things that he had never returned to you after the break-up that you had never thought to ask for. You had no idea that he often came to this drawer, sneaking mournful whiffs of your scent - even used your shirts as a pillow case if he was feeling particularly lonely. 

He pulled out a pair of your comfortable sleep shorts and a large, soft, worn green tee shirt with a large shamrock on the front and a ‘94 on the back that he had bought for you as a souvenir from The World Cup. It had been your all time favourite sleep shirt, and you had wondered where it had disappeared to when you moved into your apartment above the Apothecary once you started the job. 

“I hope these still fit.” He said, handing you the clothes. 

“They should.” You said - quiet, careful not to acknowledge the elephant in the room. The fact that he had kept your things all this time. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have any panties for you, so…” He trailed off, a filthy grin plucking up over his cheeks once again when the implication hit the air - the fact that you would be commando underneath your clothing. 

“Yeah, very unfortunate in your eyes, I’m sure, Fred.” You huffed, turning toward the door. “I should go get cleaned up.” 

You let out a small squeak when two strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you sharply back, causing you to collide with the wonderful, bare, muscled, now slightly sweaty body. You couldn’t help but to melt into the touch, and you let out a quiet moan as he began kissing your neck - not in a particularly lustful way, but in a way that was purely loving and affectionate. 

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me that easy, darling.” He whispered in your ear. “Please, do come back afterwards. You know I like to cuddle,” 

You didn’t think that you had ever heard Fred Weasley say ‘please’ for anything so plainly in his life. But, as usual when it came to him, you wanted exactly what he wanted. 

“Only if you insist.” You joked lightly, smoothing a hand over his arm that was still tightly encircled around your middle. “I suppose I can clear some time in my very busy schedule for cuddling,” 

Fred quietly let out a ‘yes’ in celebration, and hesitantly let you go. He then collapsed back onto the bed, relaxing spread eagle, still confidently naked against the covers with his hands behind his head against the pillow. You couldn’t help it when your eyes did a once-over of his body, admiring the soft planes of his muscles that had come from hard work rather than a distinct workout routine and the beautiful bit of fat on his lower belly that made him so warm and nice to cuddle. Of course, when your eyes met his, he was smirking at you. 

“I’ll be waiting, love.” He told you with a wink. 

You rolled your eyes at this, biting your lip to suppress a smile at his somewhat deserved cockiness. 

You moved to leave the room with your newly acquired clothes, wanting to freshen up in the bathroom a bit before going to sleep (the bathroom was right across the hall, so you would have to sneak across the way naked and hope that nobody would catch you, but it should be fine at this time of night). But when your hand twisted the knob and it didn’t budge, you remembered that Fred had locked it earlier. 

He moved to grab his wand from the pocket of his pants, splayed out in the middle of the floor, but you reached for the jeans first. Your wand was still downstairs beside the cauldron that had brewed the potions for George, but often, you found that Fred’s wand worked fine for you. 

Ollivander and other wand experts said that a wizard couldn’t find the same kind of success using a wand that wasn’t their own, but you found using Fred’s to be just as natural, like an extension of your own arm. Perhaps it was because his core was a Dragon Heart’s String, and that heart beat for you just as fondly as his own did. Either way, it was a fine substitution. You unlocked the door easily and tossed the wand back to him where he was sitting on the bed, and then you snuck across the hall to clean up and get dressed. 

When you came back, Fred had crawled under the covers and was starting to fall asleep. When you crawled in alongside him, you found that he hadn’t bothered to get dressed, so you locked the door again, just in case. It was a basic charm that anybody could get through, but it would give the two of you a few minutes of warning to make yourselves decent if somebody did come knocking. 

It felt like the most wonderfully natural thing in the world to settle beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist while he slept on his back, putting your head on his chest and feeling his sleepy fingers brush across your head from behind. 

“Goodnight, love.” He whispered, so quiet as though he was afraid to break apart a beautiful daydream. 

“Goodnight, Freddie.” 

… 

You wondered if all of it had been a dream. 

Fred apologising to you, begging for your forgiveness, the two of you having amazing sex - it was something you had dreamt about many times before. It was something you had wished would come true, only to find yourself waking up alone in a cold bed. So waking up next to Fred, with his large, warm body coiled up against your back like a koala was one of the best ways you could have come into a new day. 

It wasn’t long before the smell of Molly’s cooking reached your nose - the wonderful fatty sizzle of sausages and the bready warmth of toast that told you she was frying up a full English (likely because she had been having trouble sleeping after the events of the night before). Your stomach gave a painful pang, making you want to get out of bed to eat just as much as you wanted to stay cuddled up with Fred. 

You gently petted a touch along Fred’s heavy arm that was wrapped possessively around your waist, and soon, he sucked in a sharp breath as he too began to stir. 

“Merlin, I missed this.” He said, leaning in to smother you with more of his perfect warmth as he somehow crowded tighter against your back, kissing along your clothed shoulder and up your neck once again. 

Your heart fluttered with the sweetness, the fondness of it all, and you wondered how such a hellish night had made way to such a perfect morning. 

“I wish we could stay in bed forever, Freddie, but I think your Mum is making breakfast.” You remarked, finding yourself more aware of your hunger as you woke up more, and more drawn to the delicious smells. 

“We can stay here for a bit longer.” He hummed into your neck. 

Just then - his stomach let out a loud groan of protest, and you giggled. 

“Come on, Big Daddy needs to eat too.” You said, using the nickname in a more playful, joking manner as you patted his thigh, untangling yourself from his arms as you got out of bed. 

You were surprised, and slightly victorious when you saw a slight blush tinging his pale cheeks because of the teasing, the way you had used the nickname. It was amazing to see someone like Fred go from so powerful and confident to fluttering with shyness. 

“I have to find some trousers,” He remarked, suddenly remembering that he was naked. 

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” You grinned, walking across to the bathroom, lucky to beat anybody else there before the others started waking up. 

When you hit the bottom stair, Fred was standing at the back of the couch with his back to you, now fully dressed in a pair of comfortable plaid sleep pants and an old Chudley Cannons shirt that must have belonged to Ron. (It was only because of many winding discussions about Quidditch among the boys that you hadn’t even wanted to hear that you knew the Cannons were Ron’s team and the twins hated them.) 

Fred was leaning over, clearly talking to George, who was still laying where the two of you had left him the night before. You hated that your instinct was to stand back where neither of them had seen you and listen in on their conversation - but you had only learned such matters from Mr. and Mr. Extentenable Ear themselves. 

“...well, yes, I would say that it did go well, but I would still have to classify the nature of the relationship as dubious. Or friendly at best.” Fred said in a rushed whisper. 

Your stomach gave a twist. This time you had to assume that the twins were talking about you. Talking about what had happened between the two of you the night before. 

“Dubious?” George’s voice baulked, clearly trying to stay hushed himself, but having a hard time restraining his volume due to frustration - frustration at not being able to get a better answer out of his brother. “The two of you had sex and you’re classifying the nature of the relationship as dubious? Are you an idiot or was the sex that horrible?” 

You choked down a laugh at this, not wanting to be caught just yet, and resisting the urge to speak up and clarify that the sex was, in fact, great. 

“No, she seemed perfectly satisfied, thank you very much.” Fred hissed back, full of sass. You would have said more than ‘satisfied’ - for once, Fred was actually being humble. “But I just didn’t think to stop and ask: oh, by the way, does this mean that we’re back together and you still love me? Or were just scared and lonely after almost dying and wanted a decent lay? Can you fill out a post-orgasm survey to clarify, please, and make sure to-” 

An arm came up from the couch with a pillow, smacking Fred clear in the chest - hard enough to force a small grunt out of him. George was certainly feeling better. You were glad to know that your potions had done him some good. 

“You should have just asked, you numpty!” George scolded him. “You’ve been mooning over losing her for-” 

“Y/N,” Fred cut off his twin’s words by saying your name, announcing your presence as that smack with the pillow had caused him to finally turn his head and spot you there. 

“Fred.” You grinned, not at all ashamed that you had been caught. 

You walked over to the couch, leaning over to find George grinning at you in a way that said he was holding back a barrage of stomach shaking laughter because of the conversation you had caught the two of them in. 

“For the record, I would call the sex more than satisfactory.” You said, a mischievous grin coming over your lips. “And I do still love you.” You announced, turning toward Fred. “I was lonely and scared last night, but that’s why I came to you. You’re the only person I want to go to when I feel that way. I missed you. And I want you back if you’ll have me.” 

“Merlin, of course I’ll have you.” Fred breathed out a sigh of relief, now grinning as well. “I love you more than anything, darling. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” 

“I have some idea, and it was bloody annoying.” George muttered out, only to be ignored. 

You leaned in for a kiss, naturally, but just as Fred’s lips brushed yours, George let out a loud, fake gagging sound - one that had Molly running into the room, clearly fretting and worried that George was actually ill. 

“I’m fine, Mum.” George groaned as Molly began patting down his head with a wet cloth - clearly, his night had been filled by the annoying, but loving fuss of his mother watching over him. 

“Yes, yes of course.” Molly nodded, hesitantly putting the cloth down. “It’s time for breakfast anyway - do you feel up for sitting at the table, dear?” 

“I would love to get off this bloody couch.” George groaned. 

Fred rushed around to help him up, and after a moment of struggle to his feet, you grabbed his other arm to help him along into the kitchen. 

“I suppose it all worked out for the better.” George said, smiling at you. “Even if you did end up with the less attractive twin.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile at this.

...

A/N: This fic is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. This is a capsule story meant to be read independently, and in terms of the narrative, there will not be a continuation. If you are going to leave a comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written here, do not comment asking for more. If you would like to read more of my fics, please take a look at my Harry Potter Masterlist, more specifically, my other Fred Weasley fic - Kisses Like Fire Whiskey. Thank you if you have gotten this far, and happy reading!

[law-didnt-go-to-medical-school]

Law-centric Fic recs:

Lawlu:

the thing that remains by tciddaemina - Law POV of the series, a slight canon divergence fic that gets further from canon as it goes. Probably my favorite Lawlu fic out of the whole bunch. The writing is Very good and I am very fond of this characterization of Law. Underrated.

Breathe and And Breathe Again by cywscross - Law helps Luffy through a panic attack/flashback. Luffy POV, then Law’s. Cross always delivers and this is no exception. Both Luffy and Law’s inner voice sound great,  I like that Luffy is the one on the angst train this time. I feel like these fics really illustrate what I like about lawlu in the first place.

What Is This Thing You Call An Alliance? by cywscross - Kidd’s POV on lawlu after Wano. Great all around.

The Only Truths That Matter by cywscross - Post-Dressrosa Law then Luffy POV.

Sutures by Arowen12 - Lots of fanon interpretation but really good nonetheless. I like the interactions here.

Into the Sea by shishiswordsman - Luffy and Law get thrown into the sea with an unstable and limited amount of air.

Boyhood Blues by petiteneko - A change in Law and the ASL brother’s backstory causes some canon divergence and a shift in dynamics. Law is a cold bitch as he should be.

Heart Beats Slow by m_rosenkov - Focuses on Law and his Issues. There are some memorable interactions here.

heart of clay by trell (qunlat) - I’ve never bought into the idea that Law would be okay after Dressrosa, and here’s a heavy fic to illustrate that.

To Worry by feriowind - Short Law POV on their relationship.

Transit by  ST_Osmanthus - Unfinished adventure fic.

A Million Ways To Feel by killingmonsterswritingthings - Law talks to Luffy about injury.

Again by Kireeeshima - Unfinished time travel fic. I like how bad shit Luffy is in this one and how stressed Cora-san and Law are over it lmao.

Minor Lawlu:

The Trouble With Eastern by teaandtumblr - Very sweet, and I am a Slut for the idea that different languages exist in the op universe.

I know you by the state of your hands by thepatchmatrix - Angsty time travel fic. Everyone’s here but I particularly like the Heart crew’s interactions.

Non-lawlu:

Small Changes by SweetScentences - Might be my favorite One Piece fic period. A Cora-san lives story with great characterizations. Another story exploring the idea that different languages exist in the op universe. The Heart crew’s formation is very sweet and well done. The Law Novel? I don’t know her, all I know is Small Changes by Sweetscentences. 

Excision by freckledshoulderblades - Modern AU where Law runs a clinic and some bad shit happens. I was slightly triggered by this fic, but that’s because the descriptions of having a Bad Time™ were that good.

Shoot the Moon by Sarcasticles - A short study on Law and his luck.

The Beginning of a Certain End by codedredalert - Time travel story where Law meets the kid versions of Cora and Doffy. The characterizations are great, and another fic where there are different languages??? I can’t get enough.

Lionheart by cyan96 - If you like Law you’ve probably already read this. Time travel fic where little Law transports himself and a dying Cora-san onto Law’s submarine. The writing is great, the sensory descriptions in particular really put you in the moment. Everyone’s reactions feel really real and it manages to be funny despite the heavy subject matter.

The Woods by Loyal as a Book - Kid Law meets kid ASL fic. This was written before some details of canon where known, but a very fun ride nonetheless. I like that Law and the ASL brothers don’t like each other lmao.

It started with a Storm... by  NaomiX_chan - Luffy gets adopted by Cora and Law fic. The author’s first language isn’t English, so there are some mistakes, but a sweet fic with fun interactions anyway.

disaster in the making (we're not sorry for it) by guiltylights - Warlord meeting with Hancock, Doflamingo and Law.

[marvelslut16]

Idiots in love

Pairing: William ‘Bill’ Weasley x reader 

Synopsis: (Y/N) has been in love with Bill ever since she met him their first year at Hogwarts. Will she finally tell Bill how she feels, like Mrs. Weasley hopes she will, or will Fleur and Ginny’s assumptions about (Y/N)’s love life get in the way. 

Word count: 2.9k+

Warnings: Angst. Dumb asses pining after each other. Fleur, if she counts lmao. Brief mentions of death. 

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for months, I wrote it as a self indulgent piece since I can’t date Bill in Hogwarts Mystery and I wasn’t sure if anyone would actually read it. It's cannon divergent. Also, tell me if you want a part 2!

My first fic of the new year! Hopefully I'll be way more consistent and inspired this year. Thank you to everyone reading any of the fics I write, I love you all!

“Molly, he’s happy with her,” you roll your eyes at the older woman who had become like a mother to you over the years. 

You met her at Kings Cross Station the morning of your first year, she helped you cross the barrier, your parents are muggles who are afraid of anything different. You were in Bill’s year, the two of you becoming fast friends on the train ride. Through your years at Hogwarts you two became inseparable, both becoming Head Girl and Head Boy together. You two always studied together, explored the castle together, went to Hogsmeade together, you did everything together. Well, except one thing, you didn’t fall in love together; you fell for him, and he fell for that foul, loathsome Emily Tyler and now Fleur Delacour.

You spent almost every Christmas Holiday under the burrow’s roof, along with most of your summers. The burrow was your real home, and the Weasley’s were your family. After you and Bill had graduated Molly and Arthur insisted you use their first names, both convinced you and Bill would finally get together. But that didn’t happen, you both went separate ways, barely even owling over the years. He went on to be this fantastic cursebreaker for Gringotts, getting sent all the way to Egypt. And you, you became the astronomy professor at Hogwarts, you thrived in the subject and Professor Sinistra transferred to Uagadou.

“But you’re perfect for him,” Molly nags. You loved the women with your whole heart, but she really needed to learn when to drop matters of the heart. Especially when the topic of discussion was set to arrive soon. 

“Not everything works out how we want it to,” you sigh as you hand her a clean dish to dry, you had wanted to clean the dishes the muggle way. “Especially when it involves one's heart.”

The two of you are waiting for everyone to arrive, Arthur is picking the kids up from the train now that it’s summer holiday. You had apparated to the burrow after the students boarded the train, now officially a part of the Order. Dumbledore and Sirius are dead, but that just means that everyone needs to fight harder. 

“I just want you to be happy,” Molly’s eyes are soft and sad as she looks at you. 

“I am,” you smile through the lie. There’s a pop from the living room, assuming it’s just Charlie you continue. “I don’t need a man Molly, my students make me happy.”

“Mum,” the unmistakable voice of William Weasley calls as he walks towards the kitchen. “I have great news, Fleur and I are engaged! We want to get married this summer!”

You accidentally drop the plate you're washing back into the soapy water, causing some to splash your shirt. For a split second you see Molly’s face fall before she puts on a bright fake smile as she turns to her eldest. You refuse to turn and see him, you thought you had enough time to prepare yourself to see him again, but you didn’t. He refused to see you after he got hurt during the battle of the astronomy tower when he was in the hospital wing and ignored you in the few weeks following.  

“Oh, wow,” Molly tries to come up with a response that won’t upset him. “This quickly?”

“I can’t take the chance, not now,” his mood is hard to read from his voice. He almost seems too defensive when he responds. “Not with everything happening.”

Your heart stops its thumping for a second, you didn’t realize it would hurt this much to see him happy. You want more than anything for him to be happy, but you also know that his mother and sister will never approve of Fleur. And he’ll never be fully happy because of that. But maybe you're wrong, maybe you don’t really know him. Maybe you never did. 

“I can’t believe I signed up for bloody astronomy again,” you can hear Ron complain through the open window before Molly can respond.

“You know you love me,” you holler out the window as Ron and Ginny get closer to the house. They’re the only two at Hogwarts now, they’re growing up so fast. 

“Yeah, yeah professor,” he mutters as he walks through the door before grinning widely at you. 

Even though you had seen Ginny hours ago, the younger girl runs up to you and throws her arms around you. You laugh as she pulls back and makes a face as some of the soap suds transferred to her shirt. 

“You just saw (Y/N),” Ron rolls his eyes at Ginny’s actions.

“Yeah but that’s different,” Ginny defends. “At Hogwarts I can’t talk to her about boys, or eat dinner with her, or ask for Quidditch tips.”

“I’m always up for talking about boys,” you grin down at the red headed girl. You laugh and apologize to Molly as Ginny pulls you from the kitchen and up to her room. 

You don’t glance at Bill, you can’t. You’re too scared that all of the feeling you have bottled up will resurface with just one glance. You miss the way his eyes soften at your interaction with his sister, and how they trail after you as you get pulled past him. You sit with Ginny as she fawns over Harry for close to an hour, interjecting occasionally when she asks for your opinion. This is what you always imagined having a younger sister would feel like. 

“What about you?” she asks with a teasing tone in her voice. 

“What about me?” you laugh lightly as your eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“You and professor Snape,” she’s smirking. 

“Severus?” you laugh before your face pulls into a disgusted look only Ginny can see. “We’re coworkers. Dare I say friends. And he’s a part of the Order, we have to at least tolerate each other.”

“Mhm,” she sounds unconvinced. “He smiled at you the other day! In the Great Hall, where people could see! He never smiles!”

“Ginny, we’re friends,” you try to get through to the stubborn teen. “Plus he’s known me since I was eleven, that would be gross.”

Before Ginny can respond there’s a knock on the open door, you turn around and see Bill for this first time in years. His red hair still falls to his shoulders, and he still has that fang hanging from his ear. There are scars down his cheek now, those and the fang make him look bad ass. Your heart stutters as your eyes meet his, the heartache that disappeared when you were gossiping with Ginny resurfaces with just one look.

“Dinners ready,” he says before turning and walking back down the stairs. 

Dinner is loads of fun, the two eldest Weasley’s joining the group since there’s a small Order meeting afterwards. Dinner is full of Charlie joking with you, something you're happy about since Ginny wouldn’t be able to bring up Severus again. You ignore the giggles and the French accent that poke holes in your heart as Bill only pays attention to Fleur, who showed up at the Burrow when you were upstairs. 

After dinner you agree to show Ron and Ginny some Quidditch moves you had picked up over the years, borrowing an old broom left behind by one of the other boys. Remus and Tonks appear in the front yard, signaling that the meeting would start momentarily. Ron thanks you as he continues to practice the moves as you fly to the ground. Ginny follows you, wanting to get a drink from the kitchen before it's closed off to the youngest two. 

“Are you going to take his last name, or is he going to take yours?” she teases. 

“Ginny, not now,” you sigh, not sure how to get it through her head that you have no feeling for the potions master without revealing that you’re in love with her oldest brother. You aren’t sure who’s worse, her or Molly. 

“Alright, whatever you say Mrs. Snape,” Ginny wiggles her brows in your direction as you head for the kitchen. 

“Mrs. Snape?” Severus’s monotonous voice comes from behind you two. Ginny’s eyes widen before she takes off running, and a strangled sound leaves your lips.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, that’s a month of detention next year!” you yell after her. You take a breath before turning to stare into Snape’s obsidian eyes. “Ginny saw you laugh at my stupid joke in the Great Hall a few weaks ago and now she’s convinced you have feelings for me.” Severus raises his eyebrows at you before looking in the direction Ginny ran off in. “She’s just a kid Sev, don’t hold her delusions against her.”

“Weasley’s,” he mutters before heading to the kitchen himself. Dumbledore had told a select few in the Order the plans for Severus to kill him so Draco didn’t have to, and since the Headmaster was already dying nobody was as mad as expected. “Don’t you have feelings for the oldest one?”

“Be quiet!” you hiss, as look to make sure no one heard. He smirks before walking into the room where the meeting is to be held, leaving you standing confused in the hallway.

The meeting is small tonight; Remus, Tonks, Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Sev, yourself, Bill, and Fleur. The rest had prior engagements unfortunately, so it was essentially just family and Severus. 

Molly uses her magic to pour you a glass of tea as you sit beside Sev, the only open seat. You smile a quick thanks before lifting the cup to your lips. The warm liquid soothing your tired throat, students liked to talk over you during the last week of school so your throat was a little raw. 

“Do you want a cookie with that, love?” Snape’s monotonous voice is slightly louder than it normally is. The term of endearment comes as such a shock that you spit out the tea that's in your mouth, landing across the table on Fleur. 

There was no denying that Severus’s question was directed at you, he’s holding the plate full of Molly’s cookies right next to your face. The room goes deathly silent as the seconds pass by. Ginny, who was getting herself some pumpkin juice, drops the glass she was holding, it shatters when it hits the ground. Molly, Arthur, and Charlie abruptly stop their conversation to stare at you and Sev in shock. Remus furrows his eyebrows as he looks between you two, Tonks looks like she's holding back a laugh. A flash of pain seems to cross Bill’s face before it goes blank, and horror crosses Fleur’s when your tea lands on her. 

“I’m so sorry!” you cover your mouth, thankful the liquid wasn’t warm enough to burn. Bill doesn’t even turn to look at his fiancee, just stares at you. 

“Are you alright?” Snape has a small smile only you can see. You aren’t sure how to respond, especially as you stare at the amusement dancing in his onyx eyes. 

“I knew it!” Ginny yells, finally breaking the few seconds of silence, seconds that felt like years. You flick Sev’s leg under the table, and he has the audacity to grin larger.

“Thanks honey,” your eyes narrow slightly as you grab a cookie off the plate, passing it to Bill without looking away from the man in all black. 

The rest of the meeting is awkward, and as soon as it’s over you pull Sev out of his chair and outside. The cool night air cools your burning cheeks and he lets out a laugh that he had been holding in.

“What was that?” you pull at the ends of your hair. 

“We made your precious Weasley jealous,” even though he’s smirking, there’s no change in his inflection. 

“And now they all think we’re together!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky. 

“Good luck with that,” he disapparates before you can respond.

“I hate you!” you yell at the spot where Severus was just standing.

“You and Snape, huh?” Charlie’s voice cuts through the silent night. 

“Not bloody likely,” you roll your eyes, before plopping onto the ground. Charlie joins you as you lay and stare up at the stars. “He heard Ginny saying she thought he liked me, and he knows who I like, so he decided to run with it. He’s actually fun when you break through his cold exterior.”

“You still love Bill,” it isn’t a question. No matter how many times you denied it while you three went to school together, Charlie never believed you. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to look at him. He’s already facing you so you continue, “your mum kept going on about how I should be the one with him this afternoon. She won’t drop it.”

“I love my brother,” Charlie makes sure you keep eye contact with him as he continues. “But he’s being stupid. I agree with mum, you should be the one marrying him.”

“He’s happy without me,” your voice comes out sadder than you thought it would, guard finally down. “We’ve barely talked in years, and he wouldn’t even let me see him after the attack. He doesn’t need me, nor does he want me in his life anymore.”

Charlie just sighs, annoyed that neither you nor Bill could see the truth starring you both in the face. You love each other. Charlie just lies next to you in comforting silence, staring at the night sky until he has to head back to Romania and you off to bed. 

A single tear slips down your cheek as you lay down in the bed that once belonged to Charlie. Ginny enters the room without knocking, and you quickly wipe away the tear. 

“Why didn’t you tell me!” she practically screams. 

“There’s nothing to tell, he was messing with you, Gin,” you look her directly in the eyes so she knows you aren’t lying. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” she sits beside you on the mattress. 

“I’m in love with Bill,” you whisper, finally saying the words out loud. Sure you had agreed with Charlie earlier, but you had never said the five words out loud before. It feels like a weight is lifted off your chest, until a new wave of heartache hits you. “I have been since we were in school, and it hurts Ginny. Fleur, she’s perfect, I couldn’t possibly compete with her.”

“You’re so much better than her, (Y/N),” Ginny grabs your hand, causing you to look up at her. “And he’s a fool if he doesn’t see that.”

“Thanks Gin,” you smile sadly, squeezing her hand before she heads off to her room. 

--

“Zank you,” Fleur’s French accent is the first thing you hear in the morning. Ginny comes up behind you as you stand in the hallway, and puts her hand on your shoulder. Today is the day you forget about all of this foolish childish love you have for Bill. 

Molly watches you closely as you sit down at the breakfast table, Ginny plopping down beside you. As you talk to the young girl about Quidditch over breakfast, a black owl flies through an open window. You roll your eyes as it plops a letter beside you, you give the owl some of your toast before it flies out of the window again. Ginny looks over your shoulder as you open the letter, the rest of the Weasley’s not-so-secretly watch you read it. 

The letter isn’t anything special, just Severus letting you know that you had left a book at Hogwarts. You know full well he’s being his dramatic self, going out of his way to send an owl, just so he can say he was right. He even added a p.s, asking if Bill had gotten jealous yet. You laugh at the ridiculous question, causing Bill to excuse himself and walk outside. Fleur doesn’t move from her seat, causing you and Ginny to make a face at each other.

A few moments pass before you decide to follow your old best friend against your better judgment, but someone should check on him. He’s in the backyard pacing like a madman, running his hands through his long hair and pulling on the tips. 

“Bill?” you ask softly. He whips around and looks at you, once again his face is hard to read. Your eyes, however, soften as soon as they see what Fenrier Greyback did to him. “What’s wrong?”

“You and Snape?” his voice is hard and cold. “He hated us growing up, and you just pretended that never happened and you're with him? He hated you!”

“It’s none of your business William!” your voice is high pitched, you’re angry. He doesn’t talk to you in ages and now all of a sudden he thinks it’s okay to judge your relationships. “We were annoying kids back then, of course he hated us.”

“You could do better than him!” his anger seems to rise at the use of his full first name. 

“We’re just friends!” your voice is shrill, and you're sure everyone inside can hear you two clearly. “Not that it’s any of your business anyway! Severus was letting me know I forgot some of my belongings at Hogwarts. You have no right to judge who I choose to spend my time with and who I befriend, not when you haven’t tried to talk to me in years Bill!”

With that you turn and head away from the burrow, not wanting to face anyone right now. Especially any of the Weasley's, and most of all, Molly. Bill calls your name as you walk away from him, but you don’t turn around. You can’t. William Weasley has broken your heart multiple times since you met him, and you aren’t about to give him the satisfaction of watching himself break your heart all over again.

Part 2

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always​

[willwriteforhugs]

how stray kids asks you out <3

skz scenario - all members (individually) x reader

genre: fluff, dating au, angst if you close your left eye

word count: 1.6k (total)

warnings: some cursing, but nothing else :)

a/n: hello, lovelies!! this is my very first (posted) stray kids fic- i hope you all enjoy. it’s nothing major, but i really had fun writing it. if you’ve found me on the explore page, hello! i’m a hot mess. pls validate me by reading what i write.

just kidding.

maybe.

ANYWAYS- please keep in mind that this is written in a totally lighthearted way, and this is 100% fictitious. this is for entertainment purposes only. thank you for reading!

chan: 

he is actually so shy about it :’(

but he knows he’s gonna go through with it

cause that’s the kind of person he is

he just wants his emotions to be out in the open

whether the feeling is mutual or not

so he just improvises 

he approaches you with completely no context? like he just walks up and starts a convo but you can’t tell why

you think he’s just. being chan

but no

he’s pretty chill, actually

his face is so tho red but he doesn’t know that so don’t say anything

a few minutes in he kinda just snaps because he just couldn’t wait

“y/n-ah, do you wanna- i don’t know, get together sometime? are you free?”

this takes you off guard completely

he misunderstands your reaction *screams*

and he immediately regrets saying anything

but you scramble to reassure him 

when you say you’d like to get together, he loses all humility

becomes a total flirt

this flusters you but the two of you have such CHEMISTRY 

“so it’s a date?”

“it’s a date.”

minho:

is the type to completely deny his own feelings until the very last minute

plus, tbh

he probably thinks you hate him

so he has a hard time convincing himself to finally ask you out

but when he does...

he just bites the bullet (lmao pray for him)

walks RIGHT THE FUCK UP TO YOU

“y/n.”

when you respond he just kinda:

“will you go out with me?”

you also probably thinks he hates you too (go communication!!)

so you’re just like *surprised pikachu face*

but he just stands there and waits for your response

he’s sweating on the DL

but you kinda just go with it and say yes

he’s hella surprised but doesn’t wanna show his excitement

so he just smirks and is like

“okay. what would you like to do, and when?”

(just because he’s a cocky lil shit doesn’t mean he’s not a gentleman)

but he’s also secretly planning the whole first date in his head

will i hold y/n’s hand? what will they wanna do? should i-

- minho’s brain

(aw)

changbin:

is on the bolder side

(be careful with this one)

(he’s feisty)

he probably let his feelings fester for a long time

so this is overdue

but he spends the whole day shamelessly flirting with you

he finally just asks if you want to grab some food

you don’t even really realize it’s a date until he insists on paying for everything

this makes you all clumsy and embarrassed

but he thinks it’s the cutest shit ever

well now he’s clumsy and embarrassed (sobs)

TECHNICALLY he doesn’t officially ask you out until after this

he pretty much just straight up confesses

the audacity i can’t

“y/n-ah... i really like you- will you let me take you out? on a real date?”

* gesturing to the take out *

he isn’t embarrassed at all

you CANNOT stop looking at his eyes

they’re so genuine and loving that you almost forget to answer

once he gets confirmation he promises to both plan and pay for the whole thing, even as you protest

how are you already in love with this man 

hyunjin:

poor hyunjinnie probably spent the last four months trying to decide how to ask you out

he’s been head over heels for you for a while now

and he knows he needs to make his move

(cause, let’s be honest- you’re a catch, and he’s protective. could i make it any more obvious?)

he ends up thinking that just being straightforward is the way to do it

so he spends the whole day just trying to get you alone

this is harder than he anticipated

so finally he just grabs you while you’re in conversation

and goes

“y/n, i’m sorry-it’s important, can i just talk to you a sec?”

you go with him, if not out of pure curiosity 

literally the SECOND you’re alone he just swivels around says

“did you know that you are really hard to catch alone?”

and you’re kinda just like: 

huh

but he continues

“anyways, i just had a question for you?”

“oh, okay. what is it?”

this is when the nerves hit him 

“oh, uh- i guess i was just wondering- if you would go out with me sometime? nothing big, i just-”

you interrupt him without thinking

“yes.”

* cue one completely flustered and w h i p p e d hyunjin *

jisung:

is not shy at ALL

but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable

so he doesn’t make a big deal out of it

he spent a lot of time debating how to do it

but he decides to write a note (so cute)

he waits until you leave the room for a sec

he slips a note into your bag that just says

“date? -jisungie”

with a lil heart next to it

then he panics and just books it

when you find it a bit later you’re initially confused

but then it kinda hits you

you FREAK out and track him down-

only to realize you have no idea what you want to say to him

but he knows you too well

and he just laughs when he sees your face

this makes you laugh too, even though you’re nervous

when the two of you finally recover he’s just

“but really- please? let me take you out.”

you know your face is on fire

so you just nod

but that’s all the confirmation he needs

felix:

king of overthinking 

we all know felix has EVERYTHING planned in his head

like, to a T

he’s been very stressed about asking you out, but he also doesn’t want to miss his chance

so he just thinks and thinks and thinks

he just wants it to be perfect for you

he decides to just hang out in the comfort of your home to do it

the two of you are just chilling (y’know. FRIEND THINGS.)

but he is completely in his own head

and you can tell

you get to be a little worried for him, so you just ask:

“hey- are you alright? you seem a little off tonight.”

he turns super pink and tries to play it off

but since you’re a stubborn piece of work, you pry a lil

and he cracks under pressure (I FEEL BAD OMG)

he finally just looks up and snaps:

“y/n- i’m really sorry. i wanted to to this well, and make it cute and romantic and have you fall in love with me in an instant. but you- god, you’re so nerve-wracking!”

you just sit there

completely flabbergasted

he bursts into awkward laughter, and between coughs he’s just like

“y/n, i was gonna ask you out. i’ve loved you for a while now.”

he continues: “but i guess i fucked up, didn’t i...”

you jump and interrupt him

and insist that he was being crazy- what was he doing letting his mind run free with that?

finally, to shut him up, you just lean over and place your lips over his.

seungmin:

is surprisingly confident

but also low-key has no idea what he’s doing

he decides to send you a text

he asks if you want to grab coffee, which you absolutely do

he doesn’t realize until later...

that he didn’t actually specify it was supposed to be a date.

oops.

but he kinda just goes with it, and the two of you maintain good conversation

finally he interrupts you mid-sentence and is like

“y/n, will you answer a question for me?”

you nod, and he continues:

“what is- uh- this- exactly? to you?”

* nodding down at your long empty coffee cups *

you don’t really understand the question (valid)

he kinda just sighs and starts laughing

“well. it was supposed to be a date. i’m just really bad at this.”

you just. cannot believe your ears

he just laughs harder and says

“so. can we try again?”

you start laughing too

and you know that even if it wasn’t the best first date,

you’d felt right at home. 

jeongin:

poor baby is SO NERVOUS 

he’s spent like,,,,

the last 6 days trying to plan how to finally do this 

but he decides to approach you and let it try to come up naturally

you two carry a conversation for a few minutes and then he asks

“so...do you- you know- like anyone?”

your face turns bright red

you can’t stop thinking

does he know oh my god am i that obvious i-

but you end up just looking away and being like

“i mean- i guess?”

he can’t decide how to respond

because on one hand- that person could be him

but on the other hand, it’s more likely that it’s not, and then it would be awkward as hell for him to ask you out

he kinda panics

then against his own will he just goes for it

“y/n-ah. i don’t really know how to say this- but will you let me take you out? i really like you...”

his ears are RED OH BOY

his voice kinda just trails off and you can tell he feels insecure

but when you tell him yes...

he was literally born for this

he gets so excited and doesn’t hide it at all

thank you so much for reading!! p.s. my asks are now open, feel free to send in your requests !

[zadien]

For the Happy Ficwritter Ask: 10, 11, 12 and 14 (yes this is my excuse to read more snippets lmao)

This has been sitting in my drafts for ages because I had no snippet written that I could share 🙃 then I found it in my drafts today and realised, oops I did not complete this. So here it is, months later 🫣

10. Why do you continue writing fics?

I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to. I have a lot of very vocal people living in my head. It’s like this little show that I’m privy to but if I want to talk about it with others, I have to tell them about this wild story that’s happening and this bizarre dialogue I overheard these two characters having. Also it’s really nice to get a response to what you write. If I was talking into a complete void, then I would not be sharing the stories because it’s really only fun if others enjoy it too. Also with fanfic, particularly Beyblade, we’re only treated to a brief glimpse of certain characters during a very short period of their life. There’s characters who never interacted and experiences we’ve never seen for them that I just want to explore and bring to life. Would Kane and Tala have these little bonding moments in canon, probably not. Would Hilary and Ian ride or die for each other in canon? Nope, but they do in fanfic. It’s so much fun to take these personalities and explore them in a post canon world or throw them onto a high school hockey team and watch their little worlds explode. It’s the best!

11. Who is your favorite character(s) to write about and why? Previously answered this but it’s always going to be Ian but also Mystel. Mystel is fascinating. Like from BEGA, who were the big bad of season 3, we got this kid who could leap up cliff faces and shared fruit and wore a mask and instead of being normal and communicating to his captain that Ming-Ming and Moses had gone to spy on Tyson, he suspended himself from a building, knocked on a window and just gestured. Garland has just come out of a room with Brooklyn, freaked out of his mind, looks out the window and his teammate is just literally hanging there! WHAT?! He’s awfully pretty but it’s his extra little attitude that just makes him so much fun. I do adore Mystel and he’s such a little shit in his own way. Do I love little shit type characters? YES. Yes I do.

12. What is your favorite theme/subject matter/trope/ship to write about? Why?

Friendship is magic? Is this a theme or a trope? I don’t know. Is it a My Little Pony reference? I’ve never watched the show, but I love friendships. I love boys being besties, I love girls being besties, I love frenemies and boy/girl friendships, lovers being best friends. I live for friendship and the strength that comes from that. You get great dynamics, and insight into characters through their dialogue with friends and how far they’ll go to protect that friendship. And I guess it feeds into found family, which is also something I adore. With SLTS it’s very much Kai finding his place on the team and the team growing and becoming better because of it. Kai’s growth as a friend through SLTS is my favourite thing because he starts off thinking he’s the best and maybe talent wise he is, but there’s more to being a good player, a good captain, a good teammate than just being talented. And the team needed to learn to let someone in, to stop being so insular and circling the wagons when they felt threatened. Also underdogs ftw! Who doesn’t love an underdog? But an underdog who’s trained and worked hard to earn their place as the ultimate winner. I love feeling good about a story, especially when you hit all those moments where it’s like, there’s no chance, there’s very little hope and yet… we still cling to that small iota of “maybe, just maybe this time?”. And when it pays off and you get goosebumps? I want to give that to someone. I want someone to read something I wrote and just internally cheer because they feel like they’re part of the team too and their win is the readers win.

14. Share a snippet (where Kai is at camp and he’s dealing with a whole bunch of egos)

“Well, well, Hiwatari. We finally meet.”

Kai stifled a sigh. Deacon would be one of those trash talkers on the ice. The kind Kai usually ignored, but today he felt plagued by an annoying little imp on his shoulder.

So, with a bland expression, he met Deacon’s gaze through his visor. “No, we’ve met before.”

Ire tightened Deacon’s features. “I meant on the ice.”

Kai shifted his hands on his stick and got low. “We’ve met there before too.”

“Tonight. I meant tonight.”

“Oh. Should have specified.”

The puck dropped, Kai swept and pulled it through his legs to his defence man.

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

My Heart Is With You Two

Request: Do you think you could do one with an older reader, like 17 or 16, where they have a nightmare and Din comforts them afterwards? maybe like a hunt gone wrong? Like Din dies in the nightmare or something bad happens to him and Grogu?

Summary: Din comforts the reader after they have a nightmare about a hunt going wrong. 

Pairing: Dad! Din Djarin x teen! Gender neutral reader

Warnings: non descriptive mention of wounds and picking of skin. Nothing too descriptive, but still in there :)

Word Count: 1,692

Rating: G

A/N: I had a really fun time writing this, I wanted to try and write this in more of Din’s point of view and explore his thoughts as he navigated through parenting. I hope that was okay! And I really hope you like it!! Sorry if the dialogue is kinda meh, I don’t know how adults talk lmao. Din let alone rarely says a word unless you talk to him lmao. Hopefully I did ok. Please let me know what you guys think <3

--------

Din sat across from Y/N. The pair sat on the walking ramp of the Razor Crest, taking a brief moment to enjoy the natural habitat of the planet they were currently on. It had been a long day for Din. Bounty hunting was dangerous, sure, but as he played with the bandages wrapped around his knee Din couldn’t help but reminisce the particularly difficult parts of his day. It seemed that other bounty hunters caught of the valuable bounty he was pursuing, so while he was trying to get a hold of the Geonosian he also had to fight off more than he could chew. Y/N threw a fit when he stumbled to the ship bloodied, in need of medicinals and rest. It took him promising that he’d take a day off for them to feel better about his condition.

Din sighed and lifted his helmet a little to take another sip of broth. Hm, it was starting to get cold. 

“Suns are going down.” 

Din hummed. “Seems like it. We’ll need to head inside in a moment.”

Y/N nodded, standing up and dusting their pants. They let her hand out toward Din and collected the bowl from his hand before heading inside. 

Din watched them leave before turning back to take one last look of the view. The forest was a plethora of greens and little critters running about. On his way into the nearest town Din considered taking the next day off so that his foundlings could go out to enjoy the scenery, maybe even swim in a lake he’d passed not too far away. Grogu would have had a field day, terrorizing small critters by chasing them around the grass.

The Mandalorian frowned at the involuntary wince his body experienced. He placed a hand on his knee and tenderly touched the muscle that ached. This was why he knew the kids can’t have a day off tomorrow. Not on this planet, at least. It was too risky. If Din learned anything today it was that the planet was crawling with dangerous beings. Some who may want to seek revenge for the people he’d killed today while on the job. 

He was too deep in thought to realize that Y/N had been watching him. They stood silently against the wall, focusing on the way he held himself. Injured leg raised a little, hands gentle to the touch, rigid movements. He was in pain and didn’t want to show it. But this was all a part of the job. They shuffled in their spot, floorboard creaking underneath them. 

“Y/N, you should go to bed.” 

They shifted their weight, “Are you not coming in?”

“In a moment... I’d like to enjoy the view a little more.”

A lie. He needed another moment to rest, to avoid putting any strain on his leg. One could argue that this behavior of defiance toward his injury was out of pride, but in reality Din didn’t want to worry Y/N. They were 17, sure, they could handle seeing their guardian like this. But he’d rather not let them know about the reality of his state. Besides, another’s day’s rest and he’ll be fine. 

He waited, and didn’t hear Y/N move.

“You should go to bed.” His voice made this sound more like an order rather than a statement. 

Y/N said a quite goodnight and left. Din turned back to the view. He waited until the sky began to turn purple to stand up and launch the ship. The Crest was set to autopilot after reaching a suitable cruising altitude. The clan should be at their destination by the time they wake up. Din stumbled out of the cockpit and made his way to the hull, wordlessly removing the heavy beskar and grabbing new bandages. Replacing bandages were harder to do when the wound is still relatively fresh. Hopefully the next time they’ll need changing the task will be easier. Finished, Din stood up from the box he was perched on and made his way to the cot he and Grogu shared.

 Something soft squished underneath his foot. What was that? Din lifted his foot and chuckled softly. He leaned over to pick up a little frog plush. A smile spread across his lips. The plush was a favorite of Grogu’s, as his sibling made it special after their meeting with the frog lady. Now he carries it around everywhere he can. It even went to the school with the children when they were left there during their time in Nevarro. 

Din walked over to where his son was snoring in his hammock. Maybe he was dreaming of frogs. Din liked to think so, smiling and perched the plush next to Grogu for him to find in the morning. 

A small sniffle made its way to the hull of the ship. 

The Mandalorian turned to the closed cot that sat parallel to theirs, tilting his head curiously. He took a step forward and knocked on the metal surface. 

“Y/N? I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I uh... got woken up when we took off.” Din didn’t miss the way their voice hitched. He waited a couple seconds.

 “Would you open the door please?”

A pause. Then a beep before the cot’s door opened up and Din came to be face to face with a teary-faced foundling. He froze, taken aback by the sight of the tears that raised questions. Are you hurt? What’s bothering you? You’re not alone, I’m here. But he didn’t say any of that. For once he found himself without words as he took in Y/N’s expression. Their skin was paler than normal. Eyes that were swollen and stained red avoided his gaze, downcast as they picked at the skin on their knee. 

Din tilted his head ever so slightly. Were they… anxious? 

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

The teenager in front of him didn’t make a move, beginning to shut down.

“Y/N.” He said once more, catching their attention. 

Din slowly knelt down in front of them and placed a hand on their knee 

“You’re going to have to communicate with me, Y/N. I can’t read minds.” He patted their knee reassuringly. “But...take your time. There’s no rush.”

Y/N blinked several times, rubbing their eyes and making Din realize that they were still crying. The sleeping quarters were slowly filling with quiet, ragged breaths of a foundling trying to control their breathing before it got worse. A hand rubbed slowly against their back, belonging to a patient Mandalorian who’d sat next to them and pulled them close, quietly reassuring them that they were in the ship with their clan and that they were safe, that everything was okay. Din found himself mimicking the way that his guardians had comforted him during his childhood. They were the ones who’d watched over him when his parents were no longer able to. Now, he was relying on their hospitality to care for his own foundling. He’d hoped he was doing it right. Y/N deserved a guardian that would provide for them in all aspects. 

When the hull was quiet again Din dared to speak once more, softly so as to not startle the teen in his arms. “Are you ready to talk now?”

“...yeah.” Y/N sighed, pulling their blanket further around them. 

“I had this… dream. It didn’t feel like a dream. It just, you- something happened when you left for a hunt. Something terrible.” Their breath hitched slightly, making Din frown as they continued. “Grogu and I were at the Crest like we always are when you leave when someone comes to the ship… with you.”

Y/N quickly looked at Din through their peripheral vision, averting their eyes when the two’s gaze locked. 

“Did something happen to me?” Y/N nodded, gulping. They sniffed as they quickly rubbed at their eyes again. Din gently pulled their hand away. “Don’t do that. It’s not good for your eyes.”

“S-sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you with this.”  

Din took a moment to think of his next words and placed a gentle hand on their chin, making them look at him. “You’re not bothering me, Y/N. I don’t want you to have to feel like you need to bottle this up. It’s my job as your guardian to be there for you-- you can come to me for anything. Do you understand?” 

“Mhm,” They sniffed. 

The Mandalorian took a moment to think once more. It became clear to him that Y/N was more than just worried when he returned home bloodied and worn from battle. They were scared. Scared that one day he would never return. It was hard for him to remember that Y/N knew underneath all of that beskar, he wasn’t invincible. 

“Ever since I’ve come of age I’ve never had anyone worry for my death,” he started, catching their attention. “It’s comforting to know that I have two very important people who do, and they wait for me everyday. Right here.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Y/N chuckled sarcastically. “What if-”

“Let me finish,” Din ruffled their hair, “What I’m saying is that I’ll do everything to go back home to the two of you, my little womp rats. You two motivate me in more ways than you think, little one.”

“Really?” 

“Really. Though I’m not as strong as my beskar, I would fight my way through Chaos if it means coming back to the two of you. Okay?”

“Okay Din. Man, I didn’t know you had such a heart under that armor.” Y/N shoved Din’s shoulder playfully, earning a hearty laugh from the Mandalorian. 

“No, no I don’t.” He shook his head and patted Y/N’s shoulder, beaming proudly at his foundling before averting his eyes to where Grogu was sleeping. Y/N followed his gaze. “It’s out here, with you two.”

[joshstambourine]

GVF as Your Best Friend

"Hii can I request gvf as besties and dumb things that they would do with the reader, also can the pronouns for the reader be neutral 🥺" - @guitarfingers

Thank you so much for sending this in!! I really wanted to do it quick cause I just loved the idea so much!

Please please please, if anyone wants me to write something with neutral pronouns, please let me know (same with male pronouns). Sometimes I get on autopilot when I'm writing and start using female pronouns without thinking.

These fics are mostly written whenever I get five minutes to myself, so sometimes I get distracted as well but that doesn't make it right.

Warning: Cursing

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

Josh

Oh what a loud friend. What a noisy naughty friend. What a rotten rotten boy.

Lmao just kidding.

Though Josh is probably a lot of those things when it comes to being your friend. He already seems like a little gremlin who is surprisingly wise in general but as someone's best friend?? Oh man you're in for a time.

Your camera roll is just dumb pictures of you and Josh. Almost exclusively. Probably some you don't remember taking as well---

10/10 the "I double dare you to do the thing" type of friend.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it---"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! YOU DOUBLE DARED ME---"

"You're a terrible person (Y/N) how do you live with yourself?" //Gobblin snickering//

Has even less of a filter when he's with you, "oh fuck, you look like something the cat dragged in and then ate again and then--"

"What the--- Josh???"

Josh also has a foul mouth from what I gather so if you're going to be friends with him be ready for a lot of cursing.

Take it as a compliment! It means he's comfortable with you!

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Yes and your mom as well."

Despite all that. Josh I can imagine being a very protective friend.

Think the kind of person who gets mad when a person insults you and says, "Whoa, what the fuck, only I can say mean shit like that to them." 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine Josh..."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

Puts an arm around you, "Good.... it would have sucked to tell you they were right if you were upset."

Probably just //Demonic screeching// most of the time the two of you are together.

Other times a lot of philosophizing and asking important questions. Or questions he feels crucial to ask.

Probably because he's baked but---

"(Y/N)?"

"Yes Josh?"

"Why don't we call big Ants… Gi-ants?"

"I'm not talking to you anymore."

Josh also would be very keen to take an interest in things his bestie is interested in. Especially important things.

As an example: If they are religious he'd want to make sure he understands their beliefs. He wants them to know he respects these things.

Over all, he's a chaotic force to be reckoned with... but one that is going to carry you along with him. You're never going to have a dull moment and you're never going to feel alone.

And most importantly you'll know you're loved at all times.

Jake

Jake always strikes me as so relaxed, someone who likes to keep to himself.

Despite that I do also see he and Josh are twins and have some things in common.

He probably is just as much of a gremlin, though less loud and obnoxious about it.

"I just want to make sure... you picked out that outfit right? Not your mom?"

"Yes...?"

"Okay good, I don't want to offend your mom."

More than anything I picture him and you sitting quietly together just doing separate things in a comfortable silence half the time.

I mean that might seem lame but those are my personal favorite kind of friendships.

The ones where you can look up from whatever you were doing and just make a face at them...

... and since he's that kind of friend he'd raise his brows first, but then immediately make a corresponding face silently.

I feel like deep conversations are the thing the two of you would be best at. No shooting the shit. Always straight to the important stuff.

Drinking whiskey by a warm fire vibes.

If you have any interest in music, even slightly, Jake would be all over that. He'd want to expand that interest to make it a love.

"I'll teach you!"

"You're too busy you don't have time..."

"No way! You're my best friend, I'm not letting some random person teach you how to play guitar. Be serious (Y/N)."

I can picture Jake laying beside his friend on the floor just smoking and listening to his favorite records.

Also a really warm and sentimental friend I think. Now this might just be a me thing but it's something I could see him doing, not often just for really important things. Maybe saving little things?

Like a ticket from a concert he went to with his best friend. Or a receipt from a really nice hang out.

Probably a Polaroid boy because of that.

That might just be me. I really feel like he likes to have things to look back on.

"Oh wow you still have that??" You ask pointing to a concert ticket from years ago tucked into the side of his mirror.

"Of course I do! I loved being there with you!"

Jake treasures his time with his friends, and its important to keep his best friend safe always.

Sam

ANOTHER FORCE OF CHAOS.

But. Sam definitely seems like one who actively tries to be a chaotic force, whereas Josh has it come naturally.

So I imagine a lot of making super dumb videos together.

"Hang on before we start!! (Y/N) can you do up my braids??"

"Fuck yeah i can."

I would want to see cooking videos made by the both of you. They'd be hysterical I know it. Get on it please.

Lots of spontaneous dancing together.

"What are you guys even doing...?"

(Horrendous dance moves that are not in-synch intensifies)

Probably a lot of shopping trips together, not necessarily to shop. Just to be out together.

Probably also would fight over who pays for lunch because neither of you can just pay separately.

Is it bad that I sorta imagine him being a bit of a wine aunt friend??

Like--- you both are just at a table drinking a glass of wine and just complaining about everyone and gossiping non-stop.

I do think he'd want to have a movie night with his best friend. They take turns picking, but hardly ever watch the movie... too busy making comments over the movie and pointing out flaws in it.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING THERE!! GET IN THE HOUSE--- ladies in horror movies man---"

"You'd be the first one to die in a horror movie... im almost positive."

".....thanks for that (Y/N)."

All that said Sam strikes me as one of those people who take note of little things about people.

So you would always get super personal gifts from Sam. Something that is irreplaceable.

It also means that by the expression on your face at any given time he knows how you're feeling.

"...oh? (Y/N) are you okay...?"

"Huh??"

"You look upset, did something happen?"

"Ah... just an upsetting text that's all."

"You wanna vent, I'll get the wine?"

A friendship with Sam means excitement of course but also a strong personal connection you probably won't be able to replace in your entire life.

Danny

I think he's the kind of best friend that wants to chat with your parents.

You know that friend. We can all picture that friend we have. The one who your parents adore and make you pretty sure they wish this friend was actually their child instead of you?

Danny is that friend.

All the boys seem to really enjoy the outdoors but I do think Danny strikes me as one of the boys who seems to enjoy it the most.

I can picture him wanting to be outside with his best friend.

Hikes. A day trip to the beach. Golf.

"Cmon (Y/N)! Can't have ya falling behind!" He'd yell when too much space builds between the two of you on a hiking trail.

I'm sure all the boys would do this but, I do think Danny would be the type of friend to go out of his way to make your life easier.

Even if this means doing something drastic.

"Your parents won't be able to make it out for the holidays...? Let's drive out there together."

"What?? We cant---"

"I've already got it planned don't worry about it."

There's also always the added benefit of getting to take out your emotions on his drum kit whenever you need to as well... this is an open ended invitation.

Danny unfortunately seems like the kind of person that listens most of the time and probably doesn't get to be the one to complain himself.

So you would have to keep an eye on him and prod a lot to get him to open up.

Even then I think you'd have to get him drinking before he'd actively talk about his problems.

It's not that he doesn't trust you. He just doesn't want to burden you, especially if you have a lot happening.

The kind of friend that wants to bond with your pets (they probably listen to him better than they ever did for you).

Let's be honest he'd bring your pets gifts so much.

"Another bandana?? Danny where are you getting these---"

"It has to match the collar I got him."

"Jeez get your own pet man."

All in all. Danny is a gentle soul, so keep that in mind as his best friend. He will give his all, probably 150%... make sure you keep up your end.

Otherwise he will burn himself out.

All in all:

Look it's pretty easy just to assume that all the guys would be good friends.

They all are sweet guys.

They all seem like people who enjoy learning about new things and people's interests.

As a group---

There would be so much fun and merriment as you all explore nature.

Bonfires and music baby.

Camping invitations of course.

Probably lots of drinking games (if you drink).

"Haha--- (Y/N) has to drink kings Cup!"

"Fuck my life..."

"Sucks to suck buddy!"

Lots of music being played.

Long drives with the windows down.

Stupid jokes.

Dumb faces.

A good group of guys that will honestly accept you as you are.

And that will also make fun of you mercilessly.

All out of love of course~

//Hopefully you liked it! For those who noticed, yes I did post this early by accident, I went to save this and like... hit the save button. And then I opened up my feed and there it was so!!! I don't know what happened.//

[ectonurites]

for the character headcanons ask, tim or steph

i ended up doing both LMAO

so for Tim:


A (realistic headcanon): i will stand by this being realistic but TIM CONTINUING TO SKATEBOARD! like okay yes in canon he only used redboard like twice, and once he had his car back he didn’t really rely on it, but he put the time into learning how to and really enjoyed it! i think it would be fun to see him do it more and like i think steph could also skate with him (altho honestly she has more roller skate energy to me but they could still hang out at a skatepark together) i also have this idea for a fic im at some point going to write of Damian finding redboard and Tim being like ‘oh i can show u how to use that-‘ and him being like ‘NO i will do it on my own’ but eventually it becomes a whole bonding thing for them

B (hilarious): other people joke about this a lot but Tim skateboarding around Wayne Enterprises will NEVER cease to amuse me. just the general chaos of a seventeen year old in a power position like that. I think like Lucius and Tam would keep record of stupid shit he does (skateboarding in the office, Interesting fashion choices, the mountain of mugs and takeout containers that build on his desk, his use of glitter gel pens on official documents, threats to pull a seto kaiba and make WE’s primary goals be trading card related, etc) and make a lil scrapbook to give him on his 21st birthday or something when he’s like Slightly More of an adult

C (heart-crushing): Young Justice being Tim’s first friends he can feel real around that he doesn’t think are going to just be temporary. like... i’ve done a lot of rambling about Tim and again we know he’s a kid who grew up going from boarding school to boarding school, he could make friends easily enough but they were very... fleeting. they weren’t meant to last and he went into it knowing that. even though at the start of the group he couldn’t tell them everything, I feel like Young Justice were just the people he eventually was able to be himself the most around, since he didn’t need to hide being Robin. (again him needing to hide being Tim for a while definitely created some distance, but it was very different than hiding the whole hero life from people he knew at home and at school) and then ya know the core four group moving onto the titans together further solidifying this sense of ‘we are a group who can get through stuff together’... until it all falls the fuck apart after Kon dies. and Tim & Cassie have their weird bad coping things. and Bart dies. i think for Tim it would just be so crushing to have the first group he was able to consider being more permanent fall apart like that (not to mention his dad and steph dying around the same time on top of it- being two of the other types of relationships [familial and a romantic partner] that had more permanence to him) and even when people come back and bonds heal, that sense of stability would just forever be shattered, he lost them once and knows that it could happen again and that fear would always be there in the back of his mind

D (canon is a coward and won’t): that he is bisexual LMAO

aaand now Steph

A (realistic headcanon): alright this is kinda canon related but okay. we have seen MULTIPLE alternate versions of Steph with really short hair (future state, that time she imagined herself as nightwing, earth-3) so i really feel like by current-ish canon she’s already thinking about chopping her hair off, like it’s one of those ideas that just every now and then she’ll see someone with super short hair and be like oh... i want that... but never really go through with it (like she’s had some kinda short looks preboot but i think the shortest was like a bob. im talking pixie cut here) and like im imagining maybe after some mission her hair gets caught on something or even burned or idk and she just says fuck it and her, Cass and Tim get back to one of their apartments/a safehouse after patrol and cut her hair in the bathroom at like 4am (yes im aware i place many situations in the middle of the night in the bathroom with friends... [like that timkon fic i wrote a bit ago] its just such a special setting okay) like Cass with the scissors Tim’s holding up a reference pic Steph found on pinterest. it looks great once it’s done

B (hilarious): the eggplant vs purple thing. i think that now in this post death metal world of dc, where everyone’s remembering things from before the reboot, steph should have a small mental breakdown about how she betrayed her old self by rallying behind the color purple (‘enemy of crime and people who hate purple!’) vs how she used to be so insistent her color scheme was eggplant (‘its eggplant. purple would look stupid’). everyone else is having their brains break because of like conflicting memories of their traumas (and she’s got that goin on too, dont get me wrong, she’ll get to freaking out about that later) but steph is just sitting there staring at a color wheel trying not to cry

C (heart-crushing): i’ve seen some fics explore this a little but i think she’d end up doing a lot of thinking about her baby that she gave up for adoption. like that was something she experienced so young and i feel that would just always be a lurking thought in her mind, where is the baby? is she happy? gotham’s a dangerous city, there’s a lot to be afraid about there. Not that she wouldn’t already because she is just a caring big sister type of person, but I think Steph looking out for all the kids in Gotham (especially once she’s batgirl) in some small part could tie back to wanting to make sure her kid is safe out there wherever she ended up. (additionally since she had a rough upbringing with her whole dad situation she just especially is protective over kids anyways. Sometimes I think she might get kinda insecure about it… maybe even question herself about why she’s saving people, is it because she genuinely cares or is it something more selfish? it’s definitely a self doubt i could see manifesting)

D (canon is a coward and won’t) not to be repetitive but also that she is bi i will stand by this

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

from an anon, about parents and school

(it's just long, that's why it's under a break XD)

here's my proposition: make parents understand that not every child should conform to whatever traditional career paths that exist. as an asian, i could feel the pressure to take science like a fucking boulder on my body. i have to rant a bit.

i am the younger sibling, my brother is two years elder to me. i was never instilled any curiosity in anything science related, i was kinda left all by myself lol. my brother tho, maybe because he was older or because he was a guy (yeah LMFAO), was encouraged AND involved in a LOT of coding, mechanix (its a construct-ur-own-stuff thing).

i guess i never really noticed until i was leaving middle school, that i was not as smart as him, and would probably never be. but i had other strengths he didnt have. i love writing, im pretty good at it. i am analytical and subejctive, i like thinking and making conclusions about things. i mean i guess i've figured out what i could be better at, right? but the problem?

its that my parents dont see it. its as if they dont know me or they DO know me and are just forcing the things they need onto me. it feels selfish of them to completely forgo my actual strengths. like YES OK i UNDERSTAND i can never be as smart as my brother, but u dont have to pretend like i can. because pretending that i can achieve whatever he has, is just going to affect YOU. because i have accepted long ago that some things arent for me.

they think i dont want to put effort into anything i do. that im lazy and want the easy way out. god, every time they say this i want to honestly show them that its the things IM interested in, where i put in the work. its so belittling.

ive written articles abt bts, their music, about how carl jungs theory of archetypes and i occasionally ask a lot of questions about the world to you (hi lol). i just dont get why they want me to waste energy on something im clearly uninterested in.

short answer, point to BTS and say, "They're Asian, they make tons of money. Leave me alone."

just kidding XD

If I'm being serious, I don't think they will change their mind. They will continue to force their ideals onto you, because they believe in certain career paths had assured success and that is what they are after. They either want you to make a certain amount of money, have a certain status in life, or simply know that you can obtain a stable job. To be honest, these are not really traditional career paths at all if you think about it. Becoming a doctor takes many, many years and it is hard ass work. Parents just make it seem as if these are the only jobs available to you, even if you know it's not true.

Men vs women in Asian countries, well, I feel everyone knows this, but many Asian parents born in their respective countries put more effort into their sons than daughters. Firstborn son? He probably walks on water to them XD

I understand what you mean when you say your parents do not understand. This might sound egotistical (it does now that I'm writing it, I am very sorry) but I was the one in my family who got the best grades. None of my siblings got better grades than me (basically I had a 4.0 from middle school to university), and do you think with all that I would be immune?

Nope.

I am good at the sciences and I am good at the humanities as well. I had an interest in reading, writing, and drawing. Reading fiction, I could pass it off to educate myself. Writing? I could pass it off as something for school. But drawing?

Woo, boy.

This was a constant fight. I do not back down (a rebel, wcyd) and I drew and it would get ripped apart. I drew and it would get torn up and thrown away. I drew and and would be beaten, yelled at, constantly belittled for my interest in it even though I was good at the sciences and math. To my mom (my dad doesn't count, he had zero interest in parenting) - if she did not think it was going to make money in the future, it was useless. If I could not spin it into profit, I should not be doing it (very fun childhood I had, yes). The most ironic thing is, after I became an adult, she suggested I start drawing again and sell it to make money.

Hello?

You literally forced me to stop drawing because you constantly connected it with negativity???

(not now, I have since stopped talking to her and started drawing again and it is purely for myself, not to show anyone else, I do not even post it on social media or show anyone irl)

Not saying your parents will act like mine, btw, only sharing my experience.

The idea that you'll never be as smart as your brother? That's bullshit lol. That's like saying intelligence is only valuable if it's science or math, which, as you know, is not true. You are you. He is himself. It is not you cannot do those things. It is that those things are not what you want to focus on. You have a limited amount of time in this life and you have chosen the things you want to delve into and explore.

You don't have to be good at everything. Everything is just not good enough for you.

I am of the mindset that you should try and learn everything you can about this world. I love learning, personally. I think knowing everything I know, from the humanities to the sciences, enriches my life and gives me a broader perspective.

But I totally understand how you feel, because being pushed into something makes you end up hating it. Parents push their kids to learn this or that and kids end up resenting schoolwork because it doesn't feel like something they wanna do anymore. It's just adults yapping in their ears and it feels pointless. Grades aren't everything. You think anyone cares that I aced Physics with Calculus I and II as an adult? LMAO, no one gives a shit. You passed, good enough XD

Here's how I think you should treat school. It's not the content that matters. It's you understanding how you learn each subject. Every subject is different and how you learn them is different. It is not because you are bad at the subject, it is because you haven't figured out the best learning style for you. Teachers have to teach a mass of students and, yes, I understand this seems very tedious to have to "teach yourself".

The skill in learning to learn becomes so, so valuable as an adult. It is how you maintain interest in things, how you develop new interests, and how will come to find meaning (in whatever you want to focus on finding meaning for). I'm not saying that you will be able to find your perfect learning style in every subject, but I am encouraging you to simply see it in that light.

And, you might find certain things to be not that important to you, in which case, just pass the class, it's totally fine if it's not going to help you for the career path you're going for XD Nobody asks me about the themes of William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" (tbh, a pair of overdramatic loons) or how I feel about Sigmund Freud (actually a twat, but that's neither here nor there).

Let them talk. That one that walks your path is you. Focus on what you want to focus on. They are set in their ways and they way to show them there are different paths is to walk them.

[euphoniumpets]

Forgotten love | Diego Hargreeves x reader

Summary: When your father died, the rest of your siblings went back where your lives where started at the umbrella acdemy. Growing up as number eight with no powers at all like Vanya, you meet Diego again as an damaged past is being brought up between you two. 

Requested: yes by @white-wolf-buckaroo​

Authors note: I hope that this was something you reqeusted! Anyway, made the reader somewhat like Vanya and I hope you like this idea. Also, Maybe a part two? also, I maybe changed about when Diego ran away? I wrote like that he moved out of the house without telling her. and Uh oh, I kinda want to write a series about this lmao. 

Warnings: bad writing. 

Standing at the entrance along with Vanya, it seemed that nothing had changed for the past few years since you left the damned house. With the rest of your siblings, you were number eight with no powers at all. You were like Vanya, just ordinary. You hated being back at the academy and you knew that Vanya felt the same. 

You and her moved out of the house like the rest of your siblings, except for Luther. He had lived in the mansion by all by himself and then was being sent up on the moon by father. And here you were, back again since you all got the news that your dear father had died by a simple heart attack. 

‘‘Well, here we go, home sweet home,’‘ You muttered as Vanya stood silent next to you. ‘‘Welcome home, miss Vanya, y/n,’‘ You heard Pogo’s voice as you sent him a smile. ‘‘Pogo,’‘ You replied as you hugged him as Vanya did the same. ‘‘Where are the others?’‘ You asked him. ‘‘Miss, Allison is with mister Luther, and Diego is somewhere around the house, and Klaus is well, Klaus,’‘ He replied as you sent him a small smile. 

‘‘I will go and exploring around the house, Okay?’‘ You informed her as she nodded. It seemed that all past memories came back flooding inside your brain as you walked through the corridors. You could hear that the rest of your siblings where playing hide and seek while you stood there, alone and watched them having fun.

After all those years, they still treated you and Vanya as an outsider of the family, that the two of you were never good enough to fit in the family. As you opened the door into your childhood room, it still seemed that everything was in place. 

It hasn’t changed that much since you left. 

You walked slowly towards your bed as you sat down on the edge and was lost in your thoughts until you heard a familiar voice. 

‘‘Y/N?’‘

Turning your gaze towards Diego in his stupid uniform, it made your heart clench. It has been years since you had seen him. Diego and you had an interesting relationship. Ever since the two of you were kids, he would always made sure that you were okay because you were isolated from the rest of the siblings.

But Diego made you feel something special. When everyone started to grew up, they left the mansion one by one, wanted to start over their lives without the umbrella academy. You had also decided to leave the place with Diego but it turned out, he left without you. 

‘‘Hi,’‘ You replied softly and stood up. Diego approached you cautiously as he took a look around your room. ‘‘Remember when we were little, and I used to sneak into your room at night?’‘ He asked you as you remembered that. 

‘‘Yeah, we had to be quiet to not get caught,’‘ You chuckled. 

‘‘Did you accept it?’‘ He asked suddenly as you frowned, unsure what he asked you. 

‘‘What do you mean?’‘

‘‘That she would write the book, did you even knew about it?’‘ You stared at him before you had your hands behind your pocket. 

‘‘Yeah, She told me about it,’‘

‘‘Why did you let her?’‘ You scoffed as you crossed your arms. 

‘‘Why should I? She’s my sister and she should do whatever she wanted,’‘ 

‘‘Yes, I know that, but she did reveal that no one could figure out what was really going on in this stupid academy,’‘ Diego replied as you could tell that he was angry. You were too. 

‘‘So what? You shouldn’t blame her, Diego, you and the rest of you didn’t even let her in,’‘ You snapped. 

‘‘Besides, it’s not Vanya we should blame, it’s you,’‘ You sneered as he frowned. 

‘‘What do you mean?’‘ He asked as you scoffed. 

‘‘Have you forgot it already? Remember when we talked about our plans when we were growing up? That we should’ve left this place together,’‘ You replied as Diego’s eyes widened. He remembered that. When every night the two of you would sneak into each other’s room as you were careful not to wake up your father. The two of you dreamed about leaving this place behind you, and start a fresh new life without the umbrella acdemy. 

However, Diego had other plans but leaving you behind. 

‘‘Yeah, I remember...’‘ He started.

‘‘So why did you? Why did you leave without me?’‘ You asked him. You had tried to forgot about him. It was nothing but a small crush that the two of you used to have together. It was a small moment of love before it all disappeared away.

‘‘You wanna know why I left you behind?’‘ He asked you, anger in his voice as he stepped closer. ‘‘It was because I couldn’t stand you,’‘ He answered as he pointed into your chest. Your heart dropped. 

‘‘Then why did you kept me around?’‘ You asked him, hurt. Diego looked at you and you could see how hurt you were. 

‘‘Because Dad told me so, you needed a distraction,’‘ He answered. You looked at him with disbelief. Was this all true? Why did you needed a distraction? The questions ran through your mind as Diego was about to walk away you stopped him with a question that he would regret with his life. 

‘‘Did you even love me? Back then,’‘ You asked him as tears started to form on your eyes. He slowly turned around. 

‘‘No,’‘ With that, he left you as he leaved you heartbroken alone inside your room. 

[rigginsstreet]

Tell us how you'd write fp different from season one if u were in control 📝

ultimately id probably keep season one the same if we’re still keeping it r*verdale and not... parentdale lmao because then that becomes an entirely different show

but i do think he couldve been utilized a little more like we couldve done some things there. 

first and foremost im making that bitch GAY and yes that is very important to his character but i dont need to tell you that. but the layers that would add bitch! the layers! oh but i also wouldve given him and hermione/the lodges a proper backstory because that shit was not explored okay like i made a post about it before how all these people went to school together and then hiram randomly calls fp up one day cuz he needs a plot of land cheapened by his presence ksjgbkjbg and then add on the whole thing with fp hermione and fred. bisexual love triangle i would like to see.

OH and i would like to see his relationship with the serpents explored more i need to see him actually being a leader and making deals and running shit PLUS how joaquin came to be his like.... second in command i mean i know he was being used to seduce kevin but i really need that backstory too lmfao i need to see that conversation and honestly i think fp pulled that from his own experiences like i can 100% see fp in his younger days having to flirt his way through some situations just to gain some knowledge about whatever. but ALSO!!!! if we had a parallel of fp seducing fred to get info for hiram and fp first agreeing to it cuz hes still pissed at fred but then shit gets complicated because obviously hes still in love with him and then fp starts feeling bad and then oh no fred finds out just when he was starting to maybe open himself up to the idea of being with fp again..... we truly couldve done so much. and then you have freds slutty ass being caught betwen his ex girlfriend and ex boyfriend while also being sad about his ex wife still. so much drama

its really not until season 2 that his character fucking derails. I WANTED TO SEE HIM ACTUALLY IN PRISON! HIM RUNNING THE YARD! PRISON FIGHTS! SEXY!

i would have liked an actual sobriety arc. he said he got sober in prison and was attending meetings and then poof. that ended immediately. and fine. we could keep that but like... at least show the struggle and the guilt over it ya know? also he did not struggle nearly enough for coming out of prison for DUMPING A DEAD TEENAGER IN A RIVER like that town truly shouldve been on his ass about that theres no WAY him working at pops wouldnt have caused a scene.

like my main problem with fp as a character is that he truly never suffers any consequences for anything but also hes written to have all these problems that are never dealt with or remotely explored. and for as much as i would love for that bitch to get some therapy i also realize its not entirely realistic for him as a character and thats fine! but i want to see him struggle i want to see him actually acknowledge he has demons to face and work at them in his own way and both fail and succeed. 

ultimately what it all comes down to is he wasnt written as a person. which.... no one on this show is. they all just tick their little boxes of stereotypes and caricatures and its very annoying. if youre gonna give fp a drinking problem, show it! not just him passed out on the couch but him actually struggling. show him trying to get better and doing good for a while only to relapse, show how he actively has to make the choice every day not to drink. have him apologize to the people he hurt. let us see the actual damage it did to not just him but those around him. 

give him relationships with other people that are fleshed out and actually matter. the fact that he never once checked in on fred after he was shot is INSANE to me. gladys was only ever used as throwaway lines that never went anywhere. he had an entire daughter he presumably never tried getting in contact with based on her reaction to see him again like....but yet he has her name tattooed over his heart? so either that was a hollow gesture to appease his own mind or he actually deeply loves her but was so ashamed of himself and what caused gladys to leave that he couldnt even pick up the phone to call them. SHOW ME THESE THINGS!

show us what the serpents meant to him as a kid who got thrown out by his father at 16 and found a family in them instead. show us why he wound up back there after fred fired him. show us why hes so bonded to them. hell, even if he just went back out of desperation because times were hard and no one else would hire him and he needed that easy money.... fucking explore that shit! 

show us him forming these relationships with the younger gay serpents because hes got all this baggage from his own upbringing and he has a soft spot for kids like him and wants to protect them, even if it is through a drug running gang. show us that abuse fucks up your perception of love and how to do it but its all he knows so hes working with what hes got.

fp honestly works best as a tragic character. trying to do good but he can never quite make it. always drawn to shadier things because ultimately its what he knows and its where he feels safe. but he wants to be better at the same time! he just truly cannot help himself. and thats what needed to be explored more with him but not in a way that romanticized it. like he really is a fucked up person when you break him down and the fact we were all supposed to look at him as the hero or something is so bizarre to me and it never worked because we were expected to just forget everything he was. 

hes not an evil guy either hes just deeply misguided because thats just the shit he grew up in and he doesnt know anything else. except for fred and what he saw with the andrews and that shouldve been an important relationship like they really couldve played on how opposite fred and fp are and used that to a narrative advantage, them being best friends. theres SO MUCH to be done with that but fuck me i guess. 

idk i just always think about how fun fp wouldve been if they had just let him indulge in his devious ways like theres no way fp jones wouldve ever taken a cop job seriously and not used it to his own advantage. theres no way he wouldve been that bent out of shape about gladys running drugs when hes done SO MUCH worse. we shouldve gotten more scamming against hiram and him and hermione being in cahoots. 

like hes a street rat. he will always be a street rat. he cannot shake this. fucking play with that! indulge in it! have fun! have him settle down with his husband but he still cant stop himself from living on the fringe of the law