#LET ME NOT FEAR THAT MY PARENTS DEATH WILL BE MY FAULT IF I DONT SHOW UP TO THEIR STUPID HOUSE

[whatcouldpossiblyg0wr0ng]

When will I finally FINALLY let go and be selfish I am WAITING.

[memorysuace]

Mouthwashing characters and who I think kind of are like them them in Persona 2.... guys hear meow-t

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR P2 AND MOUTHWASHING!!!! THIS IS ALSO ALL JUST MY OPINION AND MY KNOWLEDGE ON THE CHARACTERS FROM P2 IS A BIT RUSTY IF IM BEING HONEST! (i love the game to death but i have issues with remembering things and its been a while so PLEEEEEASE cut me some slack if im wrong or leave somethjng out (although do tell me so i can fix it...) THANK U!)

Anya

I feel like Anya and Tatsuya are very similar. They both feel trapped by their circumstances and tend to be unable to feel their feelings properly. Anya is stuck on a spaceship with her abuser, the one who ripped her autonomy from her, and has no means to really fight back, in the end killing herself because she couldn't properly express what he did, nor talk about it to anyone without risking the consequences. Tatsuya's situation is very similar to this, being isolated from the people he tried so hard to cling to after finally finding a place to fit in, only for Nyarlathotep to take that happiness from him by ending the world and forcing him to live in a reality that is basically his own hellscape. Tatsuya can't reach out to anyone about whats going on out of fear of what will happen, and has to suffer silently because of it. He has nobody to go to, just like Anya, and it's implied that Tatsuya has had many thoughts of taking his own life during the events of Eternal Punishment.

Swansea

When I think of Swansea, I think of Baofu. They both have made made bad mistakes in their past and have attempted to reconcile and move on. They act harsher than they let on at points as well, but in the end they are able to show they genuinely care for the people they are close with. (I honestly dont remember much about Baofu, but i can feel it in my BONES that these two overlap somehow.... I need to re-research some of these characters man..... baofu is really cool.....)

Daisuke

Daisuke also kinda reminds me of (Innocent Sin)Tatsuya, but Maya as well. Daisuke not really knowing what he wants to be, or do with his life, reminds me of Tatsuya, but the cheerful and more optimistic parts of his personality also remind me of Maya. I want to touch on Daisuke's relationship with his parents and compare it to Tatsuya's, but it's a bit difficult for me to comprehend media, and honestly I really do not want to be wrong about this, so for my own sake this is pure theory (😝). I think Daisuke's relationship with his parents could possibly be a bit strained. Not an intense amount, but when I think about him and how he thinks about his mom, wondering if she's disappointed in him, I feel that. It makes me wonder if maybe Daisuke isn't as close with his parents as it seems? That maybe they struggle to communicate their feelings toward him healthily? If Daisuke feels like a disappointment, that's caused by something. Maybe his parents had said something similar to him. Now that I'm thinking about it, his relationship with them reminds me of Katsuya as well. He took the internship because of his parents, Daisuke did all of this to appease them, which with Katsuya, isn't exactly what he did, but their motivations both root from something to do with their parents.

Jimmy

Nyarlathotep. the connection is that i dont like him 😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿

Actually though, they are both irredemable villains, characters so complex and well written that they make you so angry you want to rip your hair out, yet you want to know so much more about them. I don't hate Jimmy as a character. He is a horrible person, but so well written. You as the player feel no sympathy for the person you play as most of the time, you hate him. You view Jimmy the way he views Anya. Everything that happened to him was his own fault, he deserved what was coming to him. this actually wasnt really comparison it was just a rant about jimmy im sorry

Curly

Curly really, really reminds me of Philemon. Very neutral. In Persona 2: Innocent Sin, Philemon and Nyarlathotep make a bet about the will of human life. Knowing the consequences of losing the bet, Philemon still accepted it, causing all of these awful events to take place when he could have attempted to prevent it. That doesn't immediately mean Philemon is a horrible person. He is meant to be neutral. His actions palallel how curly acts, trying to stay in the middle of everything instead of taking a side. Sure, he wasn't the exact reason Jimmy crashed the ship, but he didn't do anything to make sure he didn't either. Just like how Philemon wasn't the reason Maya died, that was a choice Nyarlathotep made, to have her killed, but he also did nothing to prevent that.

someone match my freak and discuss this with me the hyperfixations are all coming together and its driving me crazy

[shwarmii]

You know the books and like Clarisse and I haven't read the books yet, so maybe you can explain something for me? They say the gods don't always claim their kids especially if they don't have 'glory' yet, and they say (and I see on tumblr) that Ares doesn't like his girls, and he's overly mean and almost abusive to Clarisse, but she's HIS.

Does it ever say when/why he claimed her? Was it a possession thing even though he doesn't at first like her or approve of her? Did she do something special and he went yup that's my kid I guess?

this ask is referencing this post

oooooh, okay, uh... important things to note: (1) i have chronic memory loss, (2) i havent read these books in years, so let's see how i do from what i remember lmao

regardless, thank you for asking me a question! very sweet that you thought id have the answer

the answer will be a bit of a spoiler in terms of world-building, so lemme just

⚠️ pjo world-building + mild plot spoilers below ⚠️

so, the last book in the first series ("Percy Jackson and the Olympians") reveals most of the unclaimed kids are actually the demigod children of minor gods

these minor gods were implied to have been fearful of what might happen to their kids if their kids were claimed. because then, their kid would need their own cabin, and a minor god getting a set-up right next to the big 12 could cause anyone in said big 12 to percieve that act as a slight, and might take out that fury on either the said minor god in question OR their newly claimed kid. not even Hestia had a cabin for her kids, and she used to be in the main 12 until she stepped down for Dionysus to be amongst the big 12 instead (when the minor gods are allowed cabins, she gets cabin 21). Percy Jackson is the one who makes the demand that every god claims their kid within a time-frame of arriving at Camp Halfblood, which then gives the minor gods a pass to claim their kid without being worried they or their child will be punished for doing so

Riordan makes this a very small reveal, considering how important it is. but Percy isn't friends with any unclaimed kids really, all the people Percy meets who are new to Camp get claimed within the book they are introduced in. so there's no one to really be our emotional throughline for that reveal, nobody for fans to theorize who such-and-such's godly parent might be. it takes up only a few paragraphs, unfortunately, not much; definitely not a full chapter. i dont remember if there were any stragglers from the big 12's kids who had been unclaimed up to that point? i dont think there were many, if any. it sets up and disillusions in one go that the whole "you get claimed if you are worthy" as having been an assumption the kids made to find "logic" (in a self-deprecation way, similar to how divorced kids or kids of a single parent may "logic" their parental situatuon as their own fault) to their unclaiming

however, the toxic notion of "achieve glory = godly parental attention" is still prevelant in the claimed kids too. it is why Clarisse targets Percy; he comes into camp having already fought a minotaur and won? him doing that sets off her insecurities about not being worthy and makes her jealous, which is why she goes after him so often before Percy's first quest. there's very few chances for kids at camp Halfblood to prove themselves, unless they leave; and they only can leave by either sneaking out (and dying, or at least risking death) or going on a quest (which also risks their deaths). so any chance to prove themselves for glory, in friendly or unfriendly ways, is highly covetted

i mention this because Clarisse HAS proven herself to her dad in some way. her electric spear is from Ares. now, because we dont get a lot of gossip about WHY Ares gave her a gift (esp since he isnt the gift-giving sort. he values violence/battle prowress, strategy, and victory (regardless of if that is an "honorable victory" or not)). she likely proved herself in an above-average way from her cabin-mates but not in a legendary way. if it had been legendary, we wouldve heard about how she got her spear when people were warning Percy about Clarisse. and we know Clarisse didn't earn her spear as a reward for a quest (or as "good luck" gift before a quest), because Clarisse's first quest comes in a later book. but yeah, makes it all the harsher in this world where it is so hard to get godly parental attention that Percy broke the one token of it that Clarisse had (and, no, Ares never replaced it. tho Clarisse does get a new spear called "Maimer"; but all the kids, including her cabin-mates, call it "Lamer" behind her back unfortunately), and Percy breaking her spear definitely adds to her hatred of him. so Clarisse HAS proven herself to her dad once. and it is unlikely that she did something so great that he claimed her and gave her a spear in one go. so the two (her being claimed and her getting the spear) are likely unrelated events

now, did she prove herself in order to get claimed? perhaps. the big 12 gods tend to claim their kids as a reward within their first year or less of being there (fucked up that Poseidon chose "good job humilating that Ares girl who misdirected her anger to be at you" for Percy's, but okay). it isnt until Percy Jackson wins the war that he demandingky bargins for all gods to claim their kids. but yeah, out of the big 12 (minus the Big Three, minus Artemis, and minus Hera = 7 gods), they all are decently prompt when it comes to their own kids. they are implied ot have been, at least. again, very few stragglers, if any, that were not the demigods of minor gods within the books

Dionysus especially was prompt (bc he is AT the camp). which, i know this is a tangent, but i gotta talk about Dionysus as a godly parent because the books barely do. but part of his punishment regarding being exiled to Camp Halfblood isnt just about his punishment being no throwing parties and no Olympus. his punishment is his own kids, and not in the way that initially sounds. Camp Halfblood kids dont live long. theyre considered lucky to make it to college-age, and absurdly lucky to get to their 30s. Percy himself never imagines himself getting older. this fucked up lifespan is resolved in many ways thanks to the "Heroes of Olympus" series. but, before then? Dionysus' exile is about being forced to be a present figure in his kids' life and watch them all die tragically young, being forced to help bury them. he's actually very traumatized from it all. he even begs Percy at one point to keep an eye out for any Dionysus kids during the war's final battle; and he even runs up to some of his kids who survived (i think? it was his twin girls?) and hugs them, crying. we dont get to know any of Dionysus' kids through virtue of none of them being friends of Percy, so we don't get to really know how Dionysus is like as a parent, especially as a godly one that is very present in his kids' lives. we get glimpses of him in the background, and for a guy who misdirects all his bitter anger about his exile onto the campers who are not his kid... he sounds lovely to his own kids? idk, thats at least from what i remember. shitty and bitter to other kids at camp, very loving in a quiet and traumatized way to his own. its not an excuse but it does make sense. (its also why he hates Percy; his presence means dangerous things will happen as long as he is alive, which therefore puts his own kids in danger. ...maybe thats why Percy isnt friends with any of Dionysus' kids, maybe he forbade them from getting close to Percy? idk)

but yeah, the big 12 are all p good about claiming their kids in the book, in retrospect once its revealed that the unclaimed children are largely the minor gods' kids. the timeline Percy forces them into does demand they somewhat untangle the "claimed as a reward" aspect too which is nice, they now just have to claim their kids p much as they are (unless their kid doesnt something great FAST), and not during a moment where it is good for the godly parent's image to be associated with this "moment of glory"

that being said, that doesn't mean Ares is a good dad in the books. the one moment we do see Ares and Clarisse together is in a later book, and she is uncomfortable in his presence and one time even flinches around him. i dont think Ares physically abuses his kids, mostly because i dont think he is present enough in any of his kids' lives to find a fucked up "reason" to hit them (i would not be surprised if the flinch and whatnot was from a sparring match gone too rough the last time they met tho). i think it is more so a flinch because Mrs. La Rue likely has gone after similar men to Ares, therefore making visual markers of Ares (eg. a leather jacket, motorcycle, etc) triggers to Clarisse's mind to be on guard as these other men have been unpredictable and/or abusive; and Ares hasnt been around Clarisse enough for her to trust him not to be the same nor does she trust him enough to be comfortable in general around him (as it's an Event when her dad shows up, not just some Tuesday). and that's in the books. thats not accounting for the tv show deciding "Clarisse will never be good enough to Ares because she is not one of his sons" (which i think makes sense in a representation point of view; but i also think it makes less sense sense about Ares specifically. because Athena is also a god of war, and theres even evidence that Aphrodite is/was a god of war when she was initially worshipped, so Ares is aware of women being equal and capable; Ares was also the patron of Sparta, which was the city-state with the most rights for women, one of which was that it was only one that allowed women to protect themselves against their husbands. and you could also argue, due to some of his actions in his legends, that Ares protected mistreated women. however, "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" states that Olympus' move to New York meant that the gods changed to better reflect their enviroment, and Ares is the most likely best-fit to represent the Western/American brand of toxic masculinity. so. his depiction in the books works well enough for a man still in an affair with Aphrodite who upholds glory in battle as the pinnacle of human greatness, and his built-up depiction in the show to be more abusive and sexist does and doesnt make sense. i care more about representation and a good story than i do have Ares be academically perfect to how we understand his lore to have made him out to be, personally). but yeah, in both versions, he's been set up as a shitty dad. he's inattentive and lacking self-awareness at best (and, again, is still actively having an on/off affair with Aphrodite, which no doubt complicates his kids' feelings for him the same way any irl dad cheating and/or paying more attention to his girlfriend than to his kids would) in the books. which does then feed into Clarisse's relationship with him. Ares, like many of the gods, sees their kids as extentions or representations of themselves. so its good when things are good and you make them proud, but then anything you do badly then "reflects badly on them too" which can be really damaging to a kid

the only gods we see as exempt from this mindset of extension/representation (other than obviously Hera and Artemis, as neither have any biological demigod children. Artemis does have her mistresses of the hunt tho) is arguably Dionysus as aforementioned, kind of Poseidon as he keeps trying to connect with Percy (also maybe Hades for the same? we don't see him a lot, so it is hard to tell), as well as Apollo kind of? Apollo had his initial personality kind of backtracked and retroactively better-dad-ified, as he got his own POV book series ("The Trials of Apollo"), which includes a very heartfelt scene for when he got reunited with his son, Will Solace. so the gods arent terrible parents with all the same ideaologies, but they are absent more than they are present (with the exception of Dionysus, whose punishment is to be present and get attached 💔 not an encouraging move, guys)

which brings up another important point: that we dont really get other points of view in the first series, Percy is all we get. and though Clarisse is his ally (i love that Riordan did not have her betray the camp for the war in the first series. she just doesnt fucking like Percy lol), she is his most argumentative ally. in order for the reader to know Clarisse's backstory and know if she had to earn her claiming or not (which again: i dont think she had to. she may have been manipulated to think she did tho via the whole "i will claim you as a reward/i will claim you when it makes me look good and i can have some of your spotlight" bit), as well as learn how she earned her electric spear from Ares that Percy broke, Clarisse or someone close to her would have to sit down and tell Percy about it. and Clarisse wouldnt do that because she is not close with Percy; and nobody close to Clarisse would do that because they know Clarisse would feel betrayed if they talked about her private stuff to anybody, Percy or otherwise. all we really know about Clarisse La Rue's backstory is she was born in Phoenix, Arizona; and the satyr who led her to Camp Halfblood was Gleeson Hedge. that's it.

and i have a lot of complaints about how Rick Riordan writes (mostly how he writes women and people of color, especially women of color. but other parts of his writing does suck too). and part of the novel aspects of the new show is it allows "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" have a new re-write with a team of writers (which does still include Riordan), so there are likely things that will be changing. hopefully, unclaimed children will have a spotlight (i would love to have a show-exclusive character be unclaimed, but thats unlikely to happen). again, i havent seen the show yet, but it is possible that they will not follow the books in the aforementioned claiming details and will instead go "no, all claimings happen in a moment of glory", rather than "it was going to happen if you were a kid of the main 12 regardless, and we are just waiting to do it when it most looks good for us to announce you are ours". maybe they will explain the circumstances around Clarisse's claiming and spear, i dunno. the first series of books are all written in First Person POV and limited to just Percy's, and the nature of television is to be more Third-Person Omniscient, so there is a good chance we will learn things outside of what Percy knows this time around

but yeah! that's the climate around claiming and parenthood at Camp Halfblood, which even impacts claimed kids post-claiming; and everything we know about Clarisse past and her relationship with Ares before Percy Jackson arrives (at least in the books, lol) if you read this far, i do apologize that this is very long and that i kind of meander into some tangents. i have a habit of overexplaining. however, i hope that makes sense!✌️

[thal-ent]

Since my partners are doing the same, my OCs and their relationship with fire moment (from any of the universes I write for)

The flames never left my charred body. I'm lucky to even be able to move as much as I do, to have the scars barely visible on my skin. Yet I fight with it, see it devour the corpses of creatures less resistant than I am.

The flames scare me, and I know it is exactly what she sees as I face a scared eight year old. The boy in my arms is probably nine, at the latest, and he's holding onto my burned body.

I hear her cackle, her satisfaction. And I know she fears fire more than I do.

I aim. I shoot.

When she screams, the fire illuminates the tears burning my cheeks.

It's coming down. All around me, it's falling to pieces, and it's by my own will.

My hand is unsuable, even if I wanted I could not avoid the painful death that awaits me in drowning. Yet, for now, it's fire that surrounds me.

It's a shame, none of them died from it. I planned that for one of the victims. It would be such despair, to burn because of what you love, wouldn't it ?

I sigh, as my robot catches onto the flammes. She shot me, when I took her hand. She did, not the man right next to her. Truly, I do not know how those two even managed it. Maybe I underestimated the Hope she brought to the empty shell.

My hand hurts, as the flammes lick my feet.

A flame is something dangerous. It is not conscious, it is not with any will or thoughs, it is your fault for getting burnt.

I secure my gloves and work outfit before getting the glass. It turns red like the fire underneath it, I make it spin and grab my tools.

Fire is a tool, something to be careful with just as much as any other thing in my workshop. I see though it, like the glass it allows me to bend and shape, but what I see is distorted and I can't believe it for sure.

It only rises, after all.

She makes me love fire.

Fire and Light, sisters in a way, bringers of many things. Yet she's my lover, and I adore how her skins glows with her powers, how her eyes shine when they look onto the light she produces.

She's fire incarnate, more than any goddess wearing that name. She's Freedom, she's beauty. She's dangerous and so, so warm under my hands when I touch her, when I hold her.

Her touch lights me up, teaches me a warmth no other ever gave me. I hope my light, as cold as it may be, teaches her and shows her my love and devotion to her.

I know mom hates fire. Like she hates butterflies or my parents in law. I know why she hates all those things, she told me when I got old enough.

I'm not sure I understand really why. She never gave details about the pain in her back, about the swirls of skin that dad loves to kiss when they think I can't see them. I dont say that. I know she wouldn't be able to explain to me enough.

Fire hurts, yes. But I dont understand why it's something to be feared.

A fire is light up, a single torch for four men. It's a simple patrol, we're not supposed to fight tonight. The creatures are always easier to deal with in summer, when they can't be sure if the sun is really gone for good.

Mihail directs us, waves the torch too close to the leaves for my taste so I take the wood from his hands with the one that can whistand heat. He looks at me with fear, like he forgot I can even do that. I'm still a better hunter than him, and the fire of hatred shines in his eyes for a second before he lets go.

I dont speak, just move forward and avoid the branches and trees too close. A wildfire would be the worst thing to happen, far worse than fighting, and even the teen that's barely my brother's age knows it. I hear him whisper to Mihail, wondering why he lets me disrespect him. The old bag of bones does not awnser, plants seeds of doubts in the youth's by doing so.

They told me Ion is the new instructor, with uncle's retirement. I hope for him he's ready to burn the thorns of fear and hatred to the ground, and to tell the idiots to keep their torches lower.

I stop and listen, and the kid almost bumps into me. I stop him from falling with my right hand, and my eyes must be scarier than any flames because he does not make a sound.

I see a boar pass us and resume my pace.

The crack of the fire next to me does not warm me, and I find myself missing my home, missing hair sharing that color. But for now, I have to stay cold, and walk through the ashes of this place.

[majorasnightmare]

like. exclusively dirge posting now and not "dirgeposting that could also still be generalized to durgeposting" like usual

its also just a convenient way to take his overwhelmingly magnetic presence out of the story just enough to force everyone to decide on their own lives without him, because theyll have to live it on their own

dirge stabilizes thanks to Omeluum doing Psychic Mindflayer Surgery but doesnt come to because. Life Threatening Brain Injury. ya know. and now without the tadpole or kressa, his bhaalspawn titan heritage can kick in, cus even a disowned godspawn remains a godspawn still, and if anything would knock your ass into a coma itd be THAT. so he gets moved off the table into a makeshift room at the society of brilliance, and then later into jaheiras, because she really strikes me as someone who takes the dark urge situation a little TOO personally, ya know?

like shes an absent mother because shes scared to be close and vulnerable to people who might have to cope with losing her, because she never really recovered from losing khalid, she just lives with it. and she balances living as a harper and as a parent by just trying to be that cool mom who comes by with stories and presents but never really is emotionally present, out of fear. but its like. shed feel its her fault, ya know? didnt kill sarevok hard enough the first time, didnt redeem him well enough the second, or kill him hard enough the second time. and now this poor child had to grow up around THAT. surrounded by sycophants to the lord of murder and his foul son, indoctrinated into killing, trying to break free and being so terrified of being dragged back. so i feel like internally she blames herself for it. like it wasnt good enough, her first attempts. and that just brings back the memories of khalid and the vulnerability that brings with it, that lets her connect with dirge the way she struggles to with her kids. like i have to take responsibility for you, ya know? its my fault. i shouldve done more for you. i think jaheira doesnt really feel like an absent mother until she meets dirge.

its like. hes a grown ass adult and so is she, but no one knows better what its like to live in bhaals shadow than her. and he IS scared. terrified, in a way that goes beyond speaking. and she DOES want to comfort him. out of responsibility or guilt or something else entirely. a desire not to fail him again, maybe, now that she knows him. so when the absolute falls and there isnt any need to be professional right now, just pick up the pieces, i think that pulls that kind of familial vulnerability shes repressed since losing khalid back out of her. something tender and affectionate because now she doesnt have any reason to deny whats obvious: hes family

the crises dont resolve themselves once everyones stable so like. we all have to figure our own shit out, ya know? dirge wanted so badly to live, more than anything, and he killed himself to keep bhaal from using him to hurt his loved ones (to keep bhaal from using minthara up like a tool for his satisfaction, a legion of spawn and then another corpse thrown out like trash), and he had to kill his sister and the only man who ever loved the person he was, just to fight for the life he was trying to live now. and he did most of that just because you asked him to. so like, can karlach really go to her death in good conscience knowing the kinds of things dirge sacrificed for her own happiness? for her safety? when she means so much to him, and everyone else? she thought that maybe she could go to her death on her own terms and itd be okay, itd be her choice and shed be free, but is it really freedom or just giving up because its scary and upsetting and hard? if the people she loves are willing to fight so hard for her, shouldnt she try to at least hear them out? as much as i love helping karlach want to live and decide to go to avernus, it really is the kind of decision someone should make for themselves. you have to decide to want to live. and she does, she wants to live so bad, she just doesnt think its possible anymore and tried to make her peace with that. and like, it does mean that dirge doesnt get to see her off to avernus or to say goodbye, but it DOES mean he doesnt have to because she'll live, even if its a struggle. they dont say goodbye because theyll get to see each other again

wyll deciding to go to avernus with her, free from mizora with the knowledge that his fathers alive (because dirge saved him, because wyll wanted him to, because even tho dirge hates ulders guts he loves wyll more) and finally making his first free decision without binding himself to someone else, and deciding he wants to spend his time, not just helping frontier strangers who will only ever know the blade, but helping his friend and loved one who knows wyll. the man behind the title. and that being enough.

laezel pursuing the freedom of her people, halsin going to make his sanctuary, neither of them able to wait long enough to say goodbye but taking their lives into their own hands and chasing the oppurtunity to do so before its gone

dirge managed to talk gale out of pursuing ascension (heart rendingly because god thats so much POWERRRRR. but becoming a god would strip gale of anything interesting or worthwhile and reduce him down to a one note wonder devoid of the ability to make full use of the power hed receive, only able to act as a shallow divinity just like the rest of the gods. which is worse than not getting power at all). but i dont think gale is quite ready to commit to being a professor just yet. and dirges injury provides gale with the means to avoid going home and confronting his family (gotta prove myself useful and caretake my situationship!!) and i think that even after dirge comes to gale just kinda. lingers and couch surfs a bit. not ready to face his mom and not sure where to take his life and not quite prepared to make those decisions for himself yet, so instead hes just in that weird state of aimlessness where he copes by doing a lot of the chores

shadkwheart definitely puts her life on hold until dirge is fully up and recovered. knows what she wants and how to get it but for him, shell put her whole life on pause until hes better. after all, its thanks to him that her life isnt so urgent that it cant afford to take a break. astarions in a similar boat, where hes managed to regain a lot of his autonomy post-cazador and mostly just hovers out of genuine concern. minsc does minsc, as always

mintharas a fun one. i think she wants to be the spouse in the hospital chair, endlessly waiting with infinite patience, but i think doing so makes her too antsy. too much buulding anxiety and not enough outlets so shes forced to sit and think and it just makes it all worse. she wants to trust that he'll come back to her, just like he promised, but she cant stand the waiting. i think if dirge doesnt succumb to his injuries for a bit, when planning their life together they would decide on sieging menzoberanzan, which is comfortable and familiar for minthara but also deeply isolates her and keeps her from really moving on. but with him incapacitated and unable to voice his desire to go along with whatever she wants, minthara gets forced into taking the path of change. he cant really be moved, and his recovery time is unknown, so circumstances force her to start taking steps to settle into baldurs gate, which both occupies her free time waiting for dirge to wake up and also challenges her insecure preconception that shes inherently unlikable to most people regardless of deeds. also gives her a taste for those bloodthirsty political machinations she so enjoys, without the anxiety and dread of losing her loved ones that menzoberranzan carries. i think shed manage to negotiate her way into getting the rights to a ruined house in the upper city (destroyed in the absolute attack), that she starts working on renovating to her tastes (correctly assuming that dirge doesnt care and likes whatever she likes), and really starts to make progress settling in on the surface for life, because dirge isnt there to enable her to avoid confronting those insecurities (he loves her and wants the best for her, but she doesnt have the same "i secretly want to talk about this thing bothering me" that the origin companions have going on, and that makes it harder for him to discern the kind of pressure minthara needs to positively change rather than just providing her with the comfort and stability she needs for such a change to be possible. hes good at THAT, its just step two that needs help) (he also just straight up hates baldurs gate and would need to be talked into staying which. minthara having a house locked down goes a good way towards doing that LMAO).

so like in addition to being great hurt/comfort fuel its just a really nice vehicle to force everyone out from being passive actors in their own lives to taking responsibility and agency in their lives, and the positive influence dirge has had on their lives is enough to push them into making better choices for themselves rather than being persuaded into doing things good for them. it flips the dynamic on its head, cuz now dirge has to be dragged kicking and screaming into confronting his unavoidable problems instead of shadowheart lmao. like your disabled bro! its no longer life threatening and your recovered, but this is it! its this forever!!

you cant just rely on circumstance to give your life direction, the emperor isnt going to come by and say you need to kill ANOTHER world ending elder brain, and no god will hold you hostage and command you to do their bidding or youll suffer eternal torture, YOU have to live your life now with the support of all the people youve helped take care of, and now youve got to break the habit of deflecting away from discussing your problems, in part because they just arent going away. your disability is worse now than before and its just Like That now. you have memory issues and sporadic brain fog now, alongside the chronic migraines and nausea and insomnia from before. and you have to live your life. everyone you love chose to live their lives because of you, and now you have to chose to too.

its the kinda narrative i LIVE FORRRRR

[hersparklinggqalb]

🌟🌹Assalaamualaikum Warahmathullahi Wabarakathuh💐

🌟🥰Epic dua list - forwarded👌🏽🌟

🌟❤Ya Rahman, Ya Raheem, Ya Rabb al Alameen, I call upon You and I ask You by every Name that You have named Yourself with, revealed in Your Book, taught any one of Your creation or kept unto Yourself in the knowledge of the unseen that is with You,

🌟♥️Allahumma salli wa sallim 'alaa nabiyyinaa Muhammad... Ya Raab, make me sincere in this dua.

🌟❤Please grant me a death with the shahadah on my tongue. Grant me Husn al Dhan billah (good expectations from Allah)

🌟♥️Expand my grave for me and illuminate it with light

🌟❤Preserve my record in Illiyeen

🌟♥️Lighten for me the questioning of the grave

🌟❤Grant me death in a state of Ibadah, that is most pleasing to You and resurrect me in the same state

🌟♥️Keep me free from fear, anxiety and terror on the day of judgement

🌟❤Grant my book in my right hand

🌟♥️Make me among those who show their books to others with happiness

🌟❤Make me successful in the Meezan

🌟♥️Help me cross the Siraat like lightening

🌟❤Ya Allah, please do not give away my good deeds to others

🌟♥️Reunite me with my family in Jannah

🌟❤Do not expose my faults in front of others on the day of judgement

🌟♥️Ya Afu, Forgive the sins that I don't remember and the sins that I didn't even consider as sins

🌟❤Grant me a heart filled with tranquility and peace

🌟♥️Cleanse my heart from malice, jealousy, hatred, self-admiration, show off, envy, arrogance and pride

🌟❤Grant me the ability to forgive others

🌟♥️Grant me soft speech, Ya Allah protect my tongue from lying, backbiting and hurting others

🌟❤Grant me beautiful patience

🌟♥️Grant me with the correct Aqeedah, excellent memory and understanding of the deen with daleel

🌟❤Bless my parents, forgive them, Grant them good health and make me a sadaqa jaariyah for them

🌟♥️Bless my siblings in their marriages. Bind us together with love. Do not let shayaateen break our bond.

🌟❤Grant all the single Muslims the coolness of their eyes.

🌟♥️Grant us righteous children and make them a sadaqa jariyah for us Oh Allah help me leave behind a legacy with humility, allow me to leave this dunya with the best legacies for our offsprings and for others to follow

🌟❤Help me understand, write, speak and teach Arabic

🌟♥️Help me maintain good ties with my relatives

🌟❤Help me see my faults, as well as take time out to self reflect and please cover my sins and dont expose me in front of others

🌟♥️Allow me to speak with wisdom just like the Prophet peace be upon him.

🌟❤Bestow me with wealth to spend in your way

🌟♥️Do not let others humiliate/ oppress/ mock/ take advantage of me

🌟❤Help me be courageous, confident and a positive person who makes the correct decisions at the right time

🌟♥️Grant me modesty in clothing and speech in front of non Mahrams

🌟❤Forgive the Muslim ummah -the living and the dead. Bless the Muslims with goodness and grant victory to the oppressed. Fill our hearts with Eman.

🌟♥️Oh Allah, accept my deeds

🌟❤Ya Allah, O my Allah, Ya Rahman, Ya Raheem, Ya Kareem, Ya Sattar, Ya Gaffar, Ya Qaadir, Ya Sami, Ya Aleem, Al Mujeeb, Ya Allah I turn to you in repentance, in submission. I beg you please fulfill my duas.

🌟♥️Ya allah Forgive my sins, a complete forgiveness that leaves no trace.

🌟❤O Allah, You are Oft-Pardoning and You love to pardon, so pardon me.

🌟♥️Ya allah Forgive my transgressions of Your Commands. Ya allah Grant me victory over my shortcomings

🌟❤Reform and upgrade me Ya Allah in the best way possible, in the way you know that is best for me.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Accept my duaas, ibaadah & deeds.

🌟❤Ya Allah Guide me towards performing good accepted deeds for Your Sake only.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Help me to attain khushu', ikhlaas and ihsaan in my ibaadah.

🌟❤Ya Allah Help me get closer to you as my end draws near.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Make me love You, Your Prophet (peace be upon him), Your Deen, Your book the Quran, the way it deserves to be loved.

🌟❤Ya allah Increase my eeman, tawakkul, yaqeen in You.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Increase me in Taqwa,

Make me of your grateful slaves and amongst the patient ones.

🌟❤Ya Allah Give me the strength to be steadfast throughout the trials I encounter now and in the future.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Grant me a soft heart & content with Your Laws.

🌟❤Ya Allah Make the Quran be my companion in both worlds.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Guide me to the siraat mustaqeem until my last breath and don't allow me to be involved in shirk, kufr or bid'ah.

🌟❤Ya Allah make clear to me what is the haqq and what isn't, keep me firm upon your Deen.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Make me among the muhsineen, muttaqeen the mukhliseen, the sabiqoon fil ilm.

🌟❤Ya Allah Increase me in beneficial knowledge.

🌟♥️I ask of you what Muhammad peace be upon asked you of and I seek refuge in you from what the Prophet Muhammad peace be upon sought refuge from.

🌟❤Ya Allah Protect me from sicknesses of the heart (envy, arrogance, proudness, show off)

🌟♥️Ya Allah Bless me with happiness in this dunya & akhirah, protect me from sadness, depression and anxiety.

🌟❤Ya Allah Favour me with the ability to do tazkiyah of my soul throughout my life journey.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Remove the love of this world in its degrees & forms from my heart.

🌟❤Ya Allah Invite me to Your House to worship You.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Grant me a good end, make me continuously love to meet You.

🌟❤Ya Allah Make my grave & barzakh a peaceful, cool abode.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Grant me the Shade of your Arsh on Yawmul Qiyaamah.

🌟❤Ya Allah Give me my record of deeds in my right hand and make my mizaan (scale) heavy with the good deeds.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Grant me the favour to drink from the Hawd Al Kawthar by our beloved Prophet's (pbuh) hand.

🌟❤Ya Allah Ease my crossing of the Siraat & Qantarah (bridges before Paradise).

🌟♥️Ya Allah Favour me the ultimate bliss of seeing You in Hereafter.

🌟❤Ya Allah Shield, increase & protect the love/mercy/barakah between me & my spouse for as long as we live.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Improve our behaviour with each other.

🌟❤Ya Allah Reward my spouse Your best reward for her/his striving for my family.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Make the Quran & Your Commands be our judge in all matters.

🌟❤Ya Allah Strengthen our practice of the deen together.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Make us join together in bliss in Jannah al Firdaus.

🌟❤Ya Allah, assist us with physical & emotional strength to be a good parents & example to our children.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Save our children from the impact of our mistakes in their lives.

🌟❤Ya Allah Bless us with righteous children.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Make our children the coolness of our eyes and make them sawaab-e-jaariya for me & my spouse.

🌟❤Ya Allah Make them of those who establish Salah and prostrate only to you.

🌟♥️Ya Allah make them Hufaadh, who act upon what they have memorised, and teach it to others.

🌟❤Ya Allah Make our children workers for Your Deen, da'ees, imaams, scholars and shaheeds.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Protect my family from evil, calamities, enviers & the shayaateen from man & jinn.

🌟❤Ya Allah Protect our children from harm, sicknesses, disbelief, haraam and destruction.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Grant our children success in Deen, duniya & Aakhirah & grant us a lineage of righteous offspring until Yawm al Qiyaamah.

🌟❤Ya Allah Unite our entire lineage in Jannah al Firdaus.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Make them become the reason for our place in Jannah & shield against the Hellfire.

🌟❤Ya Allah save me & my entire family from the Hell Fire & make us enter Jannah al Firdaus Aa'laa without being accounted.

🌟♥️Ya Allah, you are Al Gaffaar. Forgive my parents.

🌟❤Ya Allah Reward them in the greatest measures in this dunya & akhirah.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Elevate their ranks and grant them Jannah al Firdaus.

🌟❤Ya Allah Make me coolness of their eyes in their old age.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Grant my siblings success in this dunya & akhirah.

🌟❤Ya Allah Elevate the ranks of my parents, spouse's parents, my sisters & brothers, my elders & entire Ummah.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Protect them from illnesses, deceases and difficulties of old age.

🌟❤Ya Allah Forgive the sins of those who have passed away in my family & the Ummah - young & old.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Grant them a peaceful time in the barzakh till they meet You.

🌟❤Ya Allah Save us from trials of Dajjal, Yujuj & Majuj & the last Day.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Grant my family & friends who are waiting for the gift of "children".

🌟❤Ya Allah Unite the hearts of my worldly companions who work for You & strengthen our brotherhood.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Unite the hearts of those undergoing family/marital difficulties.

🌟❤Ya Allah Grant your perfect cure to those who are sick.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Protect my brothers & sisters across the warzones & from the persecution, rape, slaughter, humiliation.

🌟❤Ya Allah Relieve their sufferings & elevate their ranks.

🌟♥️Ya Allah Bring the downfall of those (modern day pharaohs) oppressors & Relieve those who are deprived, burdened, oppressed, in debt.

🌟❤Ya Allah forgive me for anything I forgot to mention and give me more then what I intended in the dunya and in the aakhira.

🌟♥️Ya ALLAH bless the person who forwarded this beautiful dua and make this a source of sadaqa jaariah for them Aameen...💚💙💜🧡💛💖

🌟💚Allahumma salli wa sallim 'alaa nabiyyinaa Muhammad...

Ya Allah, please answer our Duaas You are the All Hearing, All Knowing! Aameen Ya Rabb.♥️❤♥️

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight.  This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!�� you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

[milktea067]

Please don’t take my sunshine away.

I HAD THE BEST IDEA EVER AND ITS LIKE 6:00 AM RN. I CANT LET MYSELF FORGET THIS SO I GOTTA DO IT NOW I HOPE YOU DONT MIND.

Sunnydrop x gender neutral reader! Platonic!

Warnings:mentions of sunny having a bad day! ☹️ mentions of sunny getting yelled at by a parent because of moon! Mentions of possible character death (moon/sun getting deactivated) mentions of anger, mentions of reader crying (Let me know if I missed any warnings!)

Angst and comfort!

Not proofread very well!

Written at like 6:30 in the morning so please forgive me 😭🙏

———————————————————————

“What is wrong with you! Can’t you control that dreadful thing! You scared my boy! He nearly got a concussion trying to get away from you!” A parent screamed, making sunny flinch while he looked down at the ground.

He was sorry, he was really really sorry, he never meant for anyone to get hurt, especially one of his little children. It wasn’t like him and moon were the same person, even though they shared the same body. He tried to control him, he really did! But…it doesn’t always work the way he wants it to.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I tried not to let him come out-“ sunny started, attempting to reach out to the little boy and comfort him. The little boy was crying and frightened, and sunny didn’t blame him.

Before his hand could make contact with the child, sunny saw him visibly flinch and cry out in fear.

What..?

Was he really that scary..? All he did was want to make the boy feel better…! Why couldn’t moon just behave! Now he was getting screamed at for something that wasn’t even his fault.

Instead of saying anything else, he stood there for the next five minutes and let the parent yell and scold him, even standing through it when they threatened to report him to the main office and have him disassembled.

After a while the angry parent stormed out, leaving sunny quaking with fear and guilt. Disassembled…? He knew the situation was bad, and he was trying to keep the lights on in the daycare more often, but disassembled…?

He was trying his hardest, and they were still going to take him apart. He was scared. Scared of what it would be like when he was taken apart and never put back together again, but most importantly, he was scared that he would never see you again. 

You would be sad if he left one day and never came back, but you would be even more sad if you knew there was a chance he would be deactivated. He couldn’t tell you what was happening, he didn’t want you to he even more upset than you have to be.

(Time-skip to when you come in for your shift a couple days later!)

It was just after 11:00 p.m. and you had gotten here a bit early. You were excited because you had made plans with a certain someone. You and him hadn’t gotten to hang out together lately, and you wanted to be around him again like you used to before you had gotten less hours.

For the past couple weeks you and him had been trying to hanging around each other more in an attempt to come back together, after nearly being laid off you had to prove you could be useful again which meant time apart from your best friend.

Sunny? Sunny seemed happy to have you back with him, so…why did you find a big banner hanging above the daycare doors that said something that utterly confused you.

“Y/n has been banned from the daycare!”

What..? Why! You hadn’t done anything wrong! What made it even worse was that he had put a frowning face at the end of it, it looked like it was angry and sad at the same time.

Deciding to go in there and give sunny a piece of your mind, you reached up and grabbed it, yanking it down off the wall and bringing it in there as you stormed past the doors.

“Sunny sunrise!!” You yelled, holding the banner angrily in your hands.

Oh no, you used his full name AND you sounded mad. He never meant to make you mad, he hated putting up that banner, he knew it would make you sad.

“Y-yea..?” He said, peaking out from behind his curtain timidly. He had already gotten yelled at by a parent, he was sure getting scolded by you would make him feel worse.

“What is this?” You said, tapping your foot on the ground as you held up the fabric thing high enough he could see and read it. You wanted answers and you wanted them now. You didn’t almost get fired because you were hanging out with him to have him bale AND ban you on your designated hang out night.

“I-it’s a sign! A-and you’re supposed to be banned!” He said, hiding more behind the curtain. Okay, If you weren’t angry before, you were furious now.

You fumed as you hopped into the ball-pit and walked through it to the other side, pulling yourself up onto solid ground before making your way behind sunny’s curtain.

Oh no, he really did it now.

“What do you mean I’m banned! I didn’t do anything! Plus we were supposed to be hanging out tonight.” You said, tossing the banner to the floor. Despite being human, you were just as intuitive as sunny was. You knew something was wrong. He would never just do this to you without a reason.

“I-I…I don’t wanna be friends anymore!” He said, quickly covering his mouth as he processed the words he just said. Looking up at you to see if you really heard the awful words he just spoke, he froze.

The look on your face was nothing short of hurt, hurt and pain. Once you got over the initial shock of what he had said tears began to fill your eyes and stream down your cheeks. For a moment your anger disappeared, completely over shadowed by sadness. That didn’t last very long, though.

The sight broke sunny’s heart, not only were you crying but you were crying because of something he had said! He never wanted you to cry. That was the exact reason he was shutting you out and pushing you away.

“I-I’m…I’m so-“ he started, beginning to reach his hand out once more only to have you brush it off while you stormed out of his room and towards the door.

You didn’t understand, and that just made you more angry. What did you do to deserve this? If that’s what he really wants than so be it.

Once he realized the gravity of the situation, he immediately began to scramble towards you, calling out to you and begging you to wait for just a second. He had fallen and tripped many times, (mainly in the ball-pit) but that didn’t stop him from grabbing onto you in a tight bear hug from behind before you could open the doors.

“Get off of me! What do you think you’re doing! You wanted me to leave so I’m leaving!!” You said, trying to reach the door handle while he dragged you backwards and held you above his head to make sure you couldn’t run anymore.

“J-just let me say something! I-i promise you this will all make sense if you just let me speak!” He said, holding your thrashing and kicking frame above his head while he looked up at you.

“No! You said what you wanted to say isn’t that enough!” You yelled, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your cheeks and fell like rain onto his metal face.

He wanted to cry too, but unfortunately he couldn’t physically express that and it drove him crazy.

“Y-y/n I’m sorry! I never meant what I said! I-I love being friends with you! You’re my only friend in the whole world!” He said, his voice also shakily and broken as If he himself was on the verge of tears.

“T-than why…why are you pushing me away all of the sudden…did I do something wrong..?” You said, finally going limp in his hold and slowly looking up to meet his eyes.

He couldn’t stand your heartbroken face, or the fact that you thought it was your fault he was acting like this. Even though he knew it would hurt, he couldn’t let you go home thinking that he didn’t like you anymore.

“No…I-I didn’t want you to be sad when…I-I didn’t want you to be sad when I’m not around anymore…a-and I thought that maybe…maybe If we weren’t friends anymore you wouldn’t cry so bad when…”

He said, unable to get the rest of the words out. He dreaded what he was about to say next, but he knew that you had the right to know.

“When I’m deactivated…”

What…? Deactivated..? What does he mean deactivated…? You hadn’t heard anything from the main office, nor did he have any maintenance check appointments that you knew of, so why did he think he was getting deactivated?

“S-sunny, what do you mean…? You’re not gonna get deactivated..! I-If you were they would’ve told me! You know even if they did try…I wouldn’t let them…” you said, looking up at him while he slowly lowered you to the ground.

“B-but…but the mean lady…! She said that she would report me..!” He said, still holding onto your shoulders as he searched your face for a sign you might know what he was talking about.

You thought for a moment, thinking back to earlier in the week when you saw a lady and her son go up to the main office to speak to someone about the daycare attendant but no one was there, then watching as she walked out and told her son to forget about it and they would just find somewhere new to play.

You had forgotten about it, it was a couple days ago and you hadn’t had time to visit sun until today, so it had just slipped your mind.

“If you’re talking about the lady with the little boy, she left…she tried to talk to someone, but employee that runs the main office was on lunch break…she just took her son home…” you said, sighing softly as tried not to laugh at the odd circumstance.

You saw sun visibly relax at this, slowly pulling you into a hug as he rested his head on your shoulder. You felt horrible that he had been so scared and so sad for days while you had been working at the other end of the mega-plex. It wasn’t fair to him that you weren’t around as much, and you were gonna try and fix that.

“Everything’s okay now…you need to relax a bit…I know you robots don’t get tired, but you should rest a little bit…you must have been stressing for days…” you said, holding his hand.

He agreed as he let you walk him back to his room. He had just been through mental hell, and all he wanted right now was to cuddle with his best friend. You had just the thing, too.

Eventually you had him lying on the floor with his head in your lap, still holding his hand as he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of your breathing. He liked hearing the sound of your breathing and your heart beating, it let him know you were still here with him.

You and him had always cuddled together when one of you felt bad, and you always sang small songs in an attempt to comfort one another or made you two laugh to brighten the mood, and right now you thought that he needed that.

Still holding his hand, you began to brainstorm what song you should sing to him tonight, and soon enough you thought or the perfect one.

Sun was beginning to get comfortable on your lap, trying his hardest not to lay in a way that made your legs hurt or go numb. The happenings of today still plagued his mind, making him a little restless before your familiar voice broke through the silence and fog of his crowded mind.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…you make me happy…when skies are grey….you’ll never know, dear…how much I love you…” you whispered, still in a soft singing voice as you ran your thumb over sunny’s palm, letting him know that you meant each and every word you spoke.

“Please don’t take…my sunshine away…”

Wow, sorry about how long it is and some of you might find this last part cringe- (sorry it was early in the morning and I had just woken up with that idea) but I hope you like it!

Taglist!: @starryshipz @caigas-bullshit @boxofbadsenses @femalemarvelself





[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

HI i just wanted to say that i really enjoy your twilight metas (as those are the only ones ive read so far) and you're a genius. it's awesome to me how realistically you think about characters and the plot, which i have never been able to do because i always get confused. thank you especially for your post about jacob and how the fandom treats him bc ive always had mixed feelings! i love him (the fanon/new moon him ofc) but i also felt rly weird about the whole SA thing, especially as a brown boy thats been villainized (i didnt SA anyone i just realized how that sounds) i understood that it had racist roots but it still...happened, yk? anyways u put it beautifully and its alot easier to understand how i feel about him now. also like everything else u post about!! i despise the cullens w my every being but its so entertaining to see their dynamic and actions laid out. mostly bc it solidifies my hatred but anyways. they also kind of change my views on other characters, like i always kinda liked bella (i dont like alot of things she does but alot of the fan content i see on her made her feel rly relatable) and its rly interesting to see that she would be a kind of absent parent, bc id never considered it like that and it makes so much sense and woah. u have so much evidence to back up ur theories and opinions too--i tend to get lost in fanon but i dont rly do that w ur posts! even ones where ur spitballing its just muah chefs kiss i love. i write alot of self fulfilling fanfiction and tbh it does not feel the same when the characters r too ooc and ur posts have helped a fuck ton! ur super cool and i love ur stuff keep going :)

i do have some questions tho u dont have to acknowledge it at all and ik you tend to focus more on the cullens, but what do you think the wolf pack is like now that jacob, leah, and seth have left, and now that they have so many new members? do you think any other girls would have shifted and how would they be treated? ik leah was kind of alienated in canon not only bc shes a girl but also bc of her feelings, and i cant tell if the pack would be wary of her/treat her the same as leah, or if they would have learned their lesson.

have a good day!

Well first, thank you, I'm very flattered. I'm going to go ahead and acknowledge @therealvinelle here as well as she's I believe the one who originally posted the post about the very complicated topic of Jacob Black and his terrible choices throughout the series.

As for your questions there are a few pack questions in my inbox but it's mostly a matter that people keep asking questions about Bella and she keeps getting eaten.

Also, I'm not sure you want me answering these questions. Like all of Twilight, it's a bleak pit of despair.

But here we go

What About the Pack/Tribe After Breaking Dawn

There's a lot of shit going on in the tribe right now. Jacob leaving is just part of it.

They have an unprecedented number of shifters in the community and that's going to spell... a lot of issues in the years to come.

Namely, per Sam and Emily, domestic violence will be through the roof and kept very hushed up for the understandable reason of these people look like they were mauled by bears. This will also likely increase the number of deaths in the tribe, especially among those who are young. Accidents happen, it's not good, this is going to have a devastating impact on the people.

You also have a lot of angry, disaffected, young men who can no longer really be a part of society. They can't really attend school, can't even really leave the reservation for fear of turning into a wolf, they can't hold a job, at the age of nineteen or younger they each had their futures ripped away from them.

Some, Seth, handle this very well (possibly because he hasn't clued into what this means yet), others like Jake... do not. These people have had their lives turned upside down and in some cases utterly ruined: that's not good in any society.

Then you have the imprinting, lord, the imprinting.

To date, there's the Sam, Emily, and Leah disaster. The three of them handled it very well, but it still utterly destroyed Leah's life and emotional stability. Not helping, of course, is that Leah has had her very identity taken from her, has no privacy, and her only option of escape is to follow Jacob around which... we'll get to in a few paragraphs.

Added to that, you have the Claire/Quil disaster, in which the tribe is desperately trying to handle it by a) keeping it very quiet b) trying to make Quil just be the babysitter. That's unlikely to work out for them and is just angstfest all around and no one's fault.

And then, of course, Jacob/Renesmee. Jacob, having now imprinted, will follow Renesmee to the ends of the earth. He has no other purpose now. Which means that Leah and Seth, who are in his pack, get to follow along and uproot their lives. For the tribe this means they'll never be rid of the Cullens, not truly, and Billy has lost his son entirely. Not to mention it's guaranteed to go awful places.

Then you have the paternity questions this whole thing drudges up, the trauma of these children having to be sacred warriors and having slaughtered demons with human faces, many of whom were also once children and more.

The tribe and the pack are a goddamn mess.

Jacob imprinting on the Cullen hybrid daughter and leaving the tribe? Yeah, it's weird and no one likes it, but that isn't even the peak of the nonsense these people have to deal with.

Would the Other Girls Shift?

No.

Leah seems to have won the genetic shitty lottery. In 600 years of shifting, there has never been another woman, and Leah has all shifting bloodlines in her veins.

It seems Leah was just very unlucky.

Were other girls to shift I imagine they'd face much the same situation. Suddenly teenage boys are witnessing them naked, all the time, they have no choice to become sacred warriors (a role not typically meant for women and which will very much feel like 'the boy's club') and I don't get the idea that anyone learned anything from Leah.

Jake certainly didn't, he just thought she was Uber Bitch until she begged him to let her in his new pack and reminded him she was a human being with feelings.

The concept genuinely had not occurred to him.

TL;DR Remember kids, Twilight is despair

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket Manga Review, ch (92-93)

That was painful & so well-written! This analysis will focus on kyokyo mainly & faintly on her effect on kyo. Although, her story affects tohru’s life immensely, I won’t analyze tohru’s part & will wait until it’s a tohru’s chapter to use the knowledge of kyoko’s past to better read tohru’s mind & understand her decisions! Can’t wait! after all, that’s why I’ve read the manga to begin with!

-Kyoko’s Atonement:  (the weight of words):

 Kyoko breaks down after she learns she’s expecting. Why? cuz she hurt her mom. The notion that “yeah my parents caused me emotional trauma & so I’mma hurt them as well” is toxic & burdening as it starts a cycle of pain. Kyoko was right. She had no idea how her mom felt seeing her rebel, or follow violence or hear her harsh words. I’m not cleansing the mom from guilt nor responsibility. I’m just saying since the mom’s pov is blocked from us, assuming shes similar to the dad is wrong. kyoko’s fear of being punished with a child similar to herself is genuine, realistic & refreshing to see expressed in anime! usually character like kyoko are cool & brave, but here she’s humanly weak & doubtful. LOVE IT!

Moreover, in furuba words weigh on ppl & have consequences. We see this with kyo. His dad destroyed him verbally with words “ not my fault, it’s yours” that kyo echoes back to yuki! meaning the consequences of the dad’s words cause harm to his wife, kyo & even yuki!. Kyo was tormented with his own words for long time & clung to them even more in order not to resort to suicide! “ not my fault, it’s the rat’s” . Words can crush you down so bad if you hear them from loved ones, & worse if you utter them back to other loved ones! here kyoko learned that just the mere thought of her future child echoing her words back to her would torment her to death! Excellent writing!

-Katsuya invented Furuba’s vision (Accepting weakness & moving on):

The teachings of kyoko & tohru were really katsuya’s after all. I’m fne with that. These teachings are the core of Furuba’s vision. He tells kyoko to accept that she’s weak, afraid & doubtful. it’s okay. But gives her tools to move on. Your kid isn’t you. They’re an individual person. As parents all we can do is give love/hugs (sth kyoko’s parents didnt do), listen to them (sth yuki’s parents didnt do) & if they do sth wrong will explain it & teach them well (sth kyo’s parents didn’t do, his wrong deed was being born a cat spirit & he was hated for it with no explanation, mom gave lots of “fake” love & escaped by death, dad became a raging monster). Accepting weakness & moving on is what the cursed sohmnas needed to do to heal & what tohru taught them. Off course, tohru herself struggled to follow her own teachings & that’s amazingly realistic!

-Kyoko’s guilt (punishment brings ease):

Kyoko wanted to be punished so harsh for her husband’s death. The gossip got to her. She failed him as a life’s companion. Taking care of our loved ones is a duty we carry with much love & care. Them slipping away is perceived as us failing by none than ourselves. The thing is, death comes with no warning at times. It was his time to leave. Accepting it or not, wont bring him back, but accepting it will help kyoko deal with pain while not accepting will cause more pain for her & tohru.

One of the most painful things abt grief is that it’s personal. Life continues around you. Only you feel it.  “didn’t the world end when katsuya died”. No kyoko. Only you died emotionally. Only him died physically. Kyo once said “ mom why didn’t you kill me instead”. A different reaction to grief, guilt & pain, but same conclusion: neither katsuya nor kyo’s mom are coming back no matter how much pain kyo or kyoko felt.

Kyoko found ease in emotional death, neglecting & refusing life, punishing herself for staying after him.

kyo found ease in rage & blaming others as he his father did, later he’ll escape to emotional & physical slow death “ cat cage/confinement”.

tohru... found ease in pretending "I’m okay” & her mom is alive.. but not physically.. emotionally, so she’ll ignore the truth & live only for her.

Didn’t I say grief is harsh, weird & very very personal. It’s hard to explain, deal with & heal. The mere words of consolation hurt cuz the grieving ones dont want to accept loved one are really gone. Her dad’s harsh words cemented the “emotional death” that kyoko felt. I’m not needed. neither katsuya. nor parents in general. depression. misery. sadness. emptiness.

-The tv show helped to trigger kyoko’s desire to “meet” katsuya. She has already reached the conclusion that she isnt needed. So, the tv show with their words of the deceased wanting you to be happy. triggered her into misinterpreting the words as to mean her death NOT fuel her to live in his memory as intended.

- “Loosing your way first before finding your answer” is okay & so human!:

Ironically..Tohru... was the person Kyoko was punishing NOT herself: By being emotionally dead, kyoko neglected her daughter. Her world shouldnt be just one person. There are others. Katsuya himself gave her a person to love. Tohru. Kyoko chose death & unintentionally set tohru into a world of loneliness 10 times harsher thsn what kyoko faced. She was about to do, but was saved by a nameless child who reminded her of tohru. She chose wrong first but later saw her answer. Kyo chose death by accepting the confinement & he, too, unintentionally set tohru into a world of loneliness 10 times harsher if he wasnt with her. He chose wrong first but later saw his answer. Off course kyo’s story is more developed & complicated as he dealt with bigger issues than just tohru & his answer wasn't just loving tohru alone but also loving himself & choosing to live for them both: himself & tohru.

-Kyo’s guilt is a concussion thought eating him alive:

Part of why kyo’s story was one of the most human & complex is due him loosing his way first, failing, repeating mistakes “ I always though that hurting ppl was the only thing I was good at, after all, isnt that why mom died?” Kyo’s nightmare being a conscious effect of hearing tohru’s talk abt “ videos & memories of loved ones” is 1000 times stronger & more human than a cliche effect of seeing a “ hat” & to revive a a blocked memory... What the hell!! truly disgusting how the emotional weigh is reduced for stupid cliche drama !!!!!! ..

Anyway, kyo actively & consciously wanted punishment .He was sure that kyoko blamed him” I wont forgive you” can only mean what it literally means. The purpose of the nightmare is to cause kyo to seek “ emotional death” like kyoko & to loose his path more. It is meant to prepare kyo to refuse tohru even more. Therefore, the pay off at the climax will be better & stronger.

Reading kyo’s inner thoughts will never not be refreshing!!! Also, the slow burn is cooked on low , hot fire , so the pay off will be the most delicious there is!

Side Notes:

I’ve stated my feelings regarding the age gap between kyoko & katsuya in last chapter’s preview post. I’m done with it & won’t let it interfere with my analysis of kyoko nor tohru.

The idea of just being together as a fun hanging out activity without being bothered much of where reminds ms so much of kyo & tohru!! we see them being happy together in the anime in kazuma’s house, shigure’s rooftop, cooking pancake in the kitchen! I really like this domestic feel of romance! it contradicts the notion of expensive restaurant with the girl wearing a breathtaking dress to woo the guy for it to be utterly romantic as we see in movies, & other stories.

NGL, katsuya looked sexy waiting home.. damn it! >_<

I cried watching tohru between her parents, how they acted & how loved she was! T_T. it reminded me of my niece How her dad’s death affected her! She was the apple of his eyes.. T_T.

Tohru is indeed a rice ball! her dad gave her a masculine name while tohru is so feminine! his reasoning is “finding salty taste in sweet things make the taste better & stronger, kinda giving it a hidden flavour”, the rice ball has a pickle inside it & it’s what makes the taste so savory & delicious!

Grandpa’s “ chance meetings could lead to variety of outcomes, good or bad” YES! kyo/tohru/yuki meeting each other by chance. Fiction make it look weird, but trust me, real life has those by dozens!

“ i wonder how lost you’ll be, how much time you’ll need to get your answer”. He will screw up so bad, kyoko! it will be so good! one of the best screw up’s I’ve seen! so painful for him & tohru & amazingly written!

Kyo’s nightmare being connected to him remembering/dreaming of kyoko’s story is bigger effect than opening the ep with it & having the cause be sth that happened last ep, a week ago... the effect is NOT the same.

Momiji is so cute!!! did his curse break here or not yet? he seemed as tall as tohru.

Writing tohru worried abt kyo after seeing him pale is the tohru I know!! Not that stupid girl who watches the guy she loves have a panic attach in se3, ep6, then goes in ep 7...” dahhhh.. Jeez.. I duno why kyo is sleeping until now.. better laugh & make cute rice cakes” giggle giggle...That scene got me so furious even when I first saw it!! THIS IS NOT TOHRU! tohru cried for a stupid story that haru told abt puppets!! she’ll forget the person she challenges herself for is sick?! ugh!

I love seeing yuki & kyo chill & cool around each other.

Kyoko being fully dependent on katsuya can be a factor in her grief, but I’ve seen cases where both partners are independent but still be completely broken after the others’ death. Grief isn’t logical at all & is extremely personal.

[writebecauseyoucannotbreathe]

Ultimate Ship Meme: Azulaang

Rate the Ship -  

Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Until I say so. I can see them being together after death as spirits.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Ooooh boy. Azula struggles to understand friendship. I think she'd fall in love fast and hard but take the longest to realize. Aang wouldn't let himself get attached at first because Azula is unapologetic and one of the things I like about Azulaang is how it would push Aang to deals with the nitty gritty gray, not in a The Fire Nation was right all along way but in how even Kyoshi and Roku's conflict resolution let to disagreements. I think it would take Aang longer to fall in but once they reach a semblance of common ground he'd be well aware he's falling in love and would enjoy the ride.

How was their first kiss? - Let's see my fanfics. In Blue it was awkward. In Weightless it was sweet. In Smut it was horny and hate filled. In canon I think their first kiss would be very passionate and then they snap back to reality and Aang would evade while Azula denies so they wouldn't talk about it but they'd for sure be thinking about the kiss.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Technically Azula. As soon as Aang hears about a Fire Nation wedding, either his friends or he learns about Ozai and Ursa's wedding, his mind would be set on a wedding. He wouldn't say anything but he'd squirrel away relevant wedding information like he'd hear a song and go "I want that instrument to play at my wedding." But Azula would have her life planned out by other people and there'd be a set date where Ozai now Zuko are supposed to comb through suitor requests (it was probably Ursa's role. If she's there she'd talk to Azula directly instead of Lo and Li. I don't think Lo and Li are high enough rank to determine the suitor but I think it would be customary/expected for their input to be asked). Azula would tell Aang something along the lines of "I should be wed." and he'd agree and then Azula will spend an abnormally long time wondering if he married her because he liked her or because it's his duty until she asks him while he's discussing potential baby room colors pre wedding.

Who is the best man/men? - Sokka and Toph. Azula was going to pick Momo but he made a better flower girl. Yes she did this to annoy Zuko (and because Toph didnt want to wear the bridesmaid outfit) it's okay though Fire Lord Zuko was the guest of honor.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Katara, Suki, Mai, Ty Lee. Mai pretends she hates the outfit but she's secretly pleased.

Who did the most planning? - Aang did the most thinking but Azula did the most planning.

Who stressed the most? - Externally Aang. Internally Azula.

How fancy was the ceremony? -

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

100% Azula's fault. Aang has no clue what Fire Nation weddings are supposed to be like.

Aang: Wow I can't believe all weddings in your Nation are this big.

Azula: They're not. It's because I'm Royalty and you're the Avatar.

Though I hc that Aang wants to get married in all the different Nations and Azula secretly wants to experience a small wedding so they get married 3 more times with one of them being a very small Air Nation wedding.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Hmmm I'm not sure. On one hand, Ozai redemption. On the other hand, Ozai death.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Aang. Azula thinks she wants to be on top but she'd rather be pampered and Aang is more comfortable communicating and attending to needs. Aang has no strong preference either way and they do switch but this is their usual dynamic.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Azula but she denies it.

How healthy is their sex life? -

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

I think it's up to the reader's preference but I can see them being very private (Azula) and naturally talented (Aang) to the point where they assume every couple has sex daily. Hc that Aang and Suki talk about sex freely (ex: When I do __ should I __ or do girls prefer ___? I can never tell with Azula. Why do guys do ___ after ____ ? I've tried asking Sokka but he doesn't give me a straight answer.) Much to the fear of Sokka and Azula.

How kinky are they? -

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

Again up to the reader. They both like learning new things and are prodigies so I think they'd end up reading about things to try in bed (Azula) and would try things out to see what they like (Aang) until they learn what they and each other generally like/dislike.

How long do they normally last? - 

Does the Avatar State remove your refractory period? >;3c

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - No. Aang likes overstimulating.

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

Neither can dirty talk. Azula is rougher. Aang likes to take it slow. She sets the pace in the beginning but he decides when it ends.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Azula refuses to cuddle in public but in return they cuddle all night.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - hc them having twin boys at first with one firebender and one airbender because poetry. But Azula really wants a girl so they have a third child she is an airbender with Aang's charm and knack for getting in trouble and Azula's ruthlessness. Amon kidnaps her and instead of easily escaping (Aang's genes) she instead viciously mocks him the way only a preteen can (Azula's genes.) It's traumatic enough for Amon even before the parents show up. Then Aang wants another one and Azula wants another firebender so they do the do and surprise triplets! (maybe it has to do with ejaculatimg in the Avatar State lol) So 6 in total and lets say its 3 boys 3 girls with 3 airbenders 3 firebenders.

How many children will they adopt? - None. Azula is wary of motherhood and I know people like to hc Aang as adopting and while I can see him acting as a father figure to several kids I think he'd greatly prefer biological kids especially airbenders. It's a flaw that was barely touched upon and def not handled well in Legend of Korra.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Servants or Aang. After a kid or two Azula would be comfortable enough to change the diapers but it would still be mostly Aang.

Who is the stricter parent? - Depends on the kid. Aang is more lenient with airbenders and Azula with firebenders or girls. I can see Azula being strict with training & studies but not with sharing whereas Aang would have less rules but they'd be more heavily enforced (ex: no airgliding without supervision until you've mastered the safety course)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Azula. She's pretty lenient with the term dangerous esp. when it comes to firebending as long as basic safety measures are applied (ex: you can pracrice lightning as long as it's not pointed towards yourself aka dont be Zuzu) but Aang is of the mindset "How are you gonna learn airbending without dangerous stunts?" And after the first few incidents she started stepping in.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Azula but Aang cooks them.

Who is the more loved parent? - Appa

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Azula. When Aang attends the teachers shower him and his kids with compliments ("You're doing so well teaching your kids the values of the Air Nomads. It must be so hard being The Last Airbender"). They do the same with Azula but unlike Aang she sees through it and manages to get an accurate assessment of how their kids are doing.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Aang was more happy than sad. Azula cried before and after.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Aang. He is a notorious lawbreaker. Azula would bail the kids and she could do so quicker than Aang in a few cases because of her connections but she'd be mad so their kids would rather call Aang or break themselves out.

Cooking: 

Who does the most cooking? - Tied. Aang at first but then Azula wants to learn and after Aang teaches her since she has less experience she finds more enjoyment in cooking.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - 

Technically Aang since he's a vegetarian. Azula hasn't tried as many foods and she's used to not making a fuss at the family dinner table to the point of which Aang notices.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Both. Aang has a better eye for vegetables/fruits and Azula is better with prices (it's not about the cost it's about the value).

How often do they bake desserts? - Aang bakes them when he can/weekly. They're fruit based so if Azula doesn't want dessert he gives it to Momo or flings it at a target.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Gee I wonder. Aang eats salad Azula eats meat.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Aang but Azula tends to figures it out. Azula is more likely to plan a dinner but she wouldn't make it a surprise.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Aang but Azula is a close second. It would be a tie if it wasn't for the bathhouse.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Accidentally? Aang. On purpose? Azula.

Who cleans the room? - Servants or Aang.

Chores: 

Who is really against chores? - Azula hates cleaning up but she's neater.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Aang.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Aang.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Azula.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Aang.

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Azula. In the Fire Nation Palace Aang has taken to chatting with Azula in the Royal Spa while he feeds her (and mostly himself) cherries.

Misc:

Who takes the dog Appa out for a walk? - Aang

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Never. Once they like the room they like the room. If its an event they'll go to a different location for it or leave the Air Temple as is.

What are their goals for the relationship? -

To stay together.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? -

Aang slept for a hundred years so I'll give it to him.

Who plays the most pranks? - Tie. They've both pulled elaborate pranks as kids.

[omegawolverine]

Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.” 

or

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

[lucky4in]

Magic Interferes in New Orleans

Prompts from Piccadilly's book #3

Words used: ☆matriarch ☆throat ☆impossible ☆vinegar ☆apology ☆slice ☆microwave ☆raspberry ☆choose ☆snore

God! I can't take it. The dread is killing me. I'm losing all the blood in my fingers with how tight I'm squeezing the steering wheel. The honking around me is not helping. I can feel everyone's fear collectively as we sit in agitated traffic. Stress. Fault. Jitteriness. Indifference. Panic, panic, panic.

God, I hate being an empath. I can't even hear my own thoughts. I need to breath! Yeah. Take deep breaths. I'm not far from the U-turn lane. So what if traffic is moving 1 millimeter a minute? The storm can't be faster.

Hooooonk!

Beepbeep!

I have to get out of this situation before I have a sensory overload.

From my front and my rear, I'm surrounded by vehicles. I can't move back, I'll hit someone. I can't move up, because they'll think there's space to move and I'll be more stuck than before. Looking to my right I realize the road across the gate is fairly empty. That last car I saw go that way was 40 something minutes ago.

I gulp loosening my grip from the wheel but still holding it firmly in my palms. Taking a breath I turn the wheel and step on the gas. My car races through the grass and crashes though the metal gates. With a screech, my tires are finally rolling and I'm off. Towards the dark clouds like a fool running blindly into a lions den.

When I finally catch sight of the curling palm trees and the flying debris, my weariness is replaced by anger. We had a plan. A simple schedule. Prepare emergency food, water, and medicine, flashlights and documents, locate nearest shelters, fill up gas tank, clear the yard, and turn off the power. When the evacuation order is set, I would be too far away at the time, so my husband would get the kids from home and we...would...evecuate.

Evacuate.

We would meet at the nearest shelter with our separate cars...

Unfortunately, my...sweet...dearest mother decided to take it upon herself to pick up the kids herself...and NOT evacuate. Instead, she wanted her grand babies to feel safe during the storm and cook them a nice meal...at her house.

I almost had a heart attack when my husband said they weren't there. Instead, a note was attached to the fridge reassuring us that my elementary school kids, including a baby, did not infact disappear off the face of the earth. She wants them to feel less threatened and stressed over this "flood nonsense". Make it seem like a regular thunder storm.

Except it's not a thunder storm! It's a hurricane!

I told my husband not to worry about it, I will get the kids and be ok. The hurricane is suppose to be a bad one, the weather man said. Anything left undemolished by the storm by the end of this would be a miracle. Hopefully it won't be my sanity. I swear, she's impossible.

By the time I get to her house, the streets are flowing with water and clawing up her driveway like waves at a beach. I step out and my shoe kerplunks into the water. I groan, feeling my ears eject hot steam. I stomp onto her porch with a squish, squish, squish and jam the key into the lock.

I kick the door open and slam it shut, my anger seeming to accelerate as soon I step inside. I cringe a bit, noticing my youngest asleep on the couch.

"DON'T SLAM MY DO-" my mother sticks her head out through the kitchen doorway and spots me.

"-Oh, hi baby!"

I stretch a tight smile, coaxing my child back to sleep. "Hello, mother."

"You came just in time. I just need to get a few things done before we eat."

And there she is. Like always. Not worrying about a thing while marinating apple cider vinegar on peices of pork. Probably to slice into the-

Sniff, sniff.

-gumbo. Her calm persona was infuriating. Almost insulting.

"Too bad my son in law couldn't be here. He'd love to stuff his face with the beignets" she continues.

"He's at the shelter. Kinda like we're suppose to be" I say, honey tounged and all "which begs the question..." I lean in, my palms face down on the table. "Why aren't we there right now?" I sneer, bringing my voice down.

"Because there's no need to. You know that" she says simply.

"Maybe in your case, but not mine. You just felt entitled to do things your way. Like you always do. I had everything under control and-and you had me worried."

"You know nothing was going to happen to these kids. I knew nothing was really wrong."

"If you really felt so aloof about this, you should have stayed yourself. You can't just up and take my kids like that. We've talked about this."

She finally looks at me, turning away from her task. "I should be free to see my own grand kids whenever I want to."

"I would have probably excepted that, if we weren't in the middle of a god damn hurricane-"

"Momma! Momma look!"

I was interrupted by my two children excitedly telling me that a pie was on the way. All while showing me their hands, proof of a raspberry massacre. Animated. Passion. Triumph. Pleasant. I ruffle their heads with a quick "good job" and they ran off together. Their happiness almost cures my frustration. It does calm me down a bit though.

"Is is so much to want to keep your family safe" my mother asks.

Aaaaaaand its back.

"Is it so much to just listen to me? To just let me do things my way? I am in no less danger than you are just because I dont have the same... tools that you do."

"It looks like it puts you in a lot of danger if you have to evacuate the city. You could simply come here so momma can protect you."

"That makes me look like a normal person, mom. The streets are already flooding and a ton of people just saw me go the opposite direction. I look stupid and suspicious." I'm taken back to my teen years. Having a similar conversation with my mother. "Not everything can be solved with your protection. I can make my own decisions. But instead you undermine me and tamper with everything around you. Just because I dont have it, doesn't mean I cant keep my family safe or simply be a mother. How about, for once, you let mother nature do her job."

"Your father made this house with his bare hands, rehydrating himself with his sweat. No one is touching this house. Not even Cosmo's or Gaia or whatever." She huffs and turn away. A puff of steam emerges over her head, indicating she opened the pot of Gumbo.

"Well, when your the Matriarch, you can start making the rules around here."

Realizing an apology isn't coming, I groan restricting myself from wrapping my hands around her throat. Its silence between us, as there is after every altercation. Especially when the house is mentioned, cause it's always Papa's house. He passed away before I could even learn to speak his name. Mama always told us about Papa. How she met him, how he put her on her feet and built a house for her (it was told he even built the bricks holding this house up), how his devotion to his family and the love of his life lasted until death did them part.

"What makes you think I'm going to be the next Matriarch?" I ask, slipping in the kitchen chair.

"You will. It's a family tradition that you need to uphold. And you are the only girl conceived by me." She answers, this sounds almost rehearsed.

"Why don't the others take your place?" I ask, for the millionth time.

"It's only rare that a boy has ever been in place of a woman. And once a girl was brought in, he was removed immediately."

"If it's that simple then crown them and get it over with."

"Oh, do you think it's that easy"? She quizzes, slowly turning to me.

"Knowing you, probably not."

"Hyde is much more coordinated than that. If they really didn't think you were worthy, we would have known, but I always knew you were special."

Here she goes again. Hyde,, is supposedly the person that gifts the family with magic, life, and girls. It's the spirirt who thrones and dethrones us. No matter who we are. According to mom, the next Matriarch could be good or bad, Hyde has a plan for them in the end.

Along with Papa's stories, Hyde was always directed towards me because I was the only girl, excluding my half sister. Truthfully there was no way to know if Hyde was actually real. I'm not even sure if my parents have seen it. Mom would tell me tales at night of different women throughout our generation, chosen by Hyde and how I would be like them someday.

Perfect.

"Hyde doesn't give you this gift for no reason" mom reassures "they always have a plan. You can't see everything in a negative light. What if Hyde chooses Clio and you-"

I stop her at the mention of my youngest name.

"I'm not putting that responsibility on my kid" I say sternly, though It probably won't matter what I tell her "Especially if, no offense, she ends up like you. Completely dependent on Hyde's gift. IT didn't give me any when I was born, like the rest of you, and I'd like it to stay that way."

Silence once more.

"Perhaps you're afraid-"

"I'm not afraid-"

"-its okay."

"-Of this imaginary ghost."

"Sure, keep believing that. But when it happens~" she sings.

"When it happens to me, pigs will fly" I sneer, memories of that same sing song tone prodding at me.

She says nothing.

"Just let it go mom, it's just not meant to be. I'm not a child that you can hide under your wings when hail comes. However your gifts came to be, Hyde, the house, whatever, it must've skipped a generation."

She continues to stir. She sputters "but-but the family-"

"-The family doesn't know what's best for me and neither do you. I know I'm the only daughter to the Matriarch. I know I wasn't born with any gifts like my siblings. I know refusing my path makes me an ungrateful child and Hyde will handle me" I say reciting what I also heard throughout my life "But that's not my life. And I'm not defenseless."

She freezes. More silence.

"And, I mean, it's not like having voodoo is easy. It consumes you and it messes a lot of things up. This worlds order and the next."

"That's what the council is for" my mom mutters finally.

"Oh, right. The council. The same family who's just as dependent as you. Do you even remeber a time where you haven't used your gift and actually did things yourself?"

...

...

"Don't you ever think of letting go of this life? Doing things for yourself and not the family? Hyde? Papa's house? I notice how this changes you as you age. If this is the answer to our problems I wouldn't mind the sea taking this house away for a while-"

"Mama! Mama!"

"Wow, look."

I follow my kids voices and they seek for me, a glimmer of wonder and awe in there wide pupils. My 2 boys are pointing to the window in the living room. My sleeping child is now up, standing on her toes to see what her brothers are looking at.

As I begin to walk In the living room, they're rushing back to the kitchen. I take a peek and see a part of the lawn, including my rental car but the road and the neighborhood is gone. A large amount of visible debris is covering up the world around-

No.

No.

That's not debris. That's not wind.

I follow my kids. They've opened the screen door and ventured into the back yard. I race after them and stop in my tracks. The water barrier has followed us to the backyard. My kids are screaming and dancing in the sprinklers as the hurricane is trapping us in its second eye. The oceanic barrier is circling around is, refusing to touch the property. With my kids instructions I look up, the sky is dark above us like it's the dead of night, yet inside the barrier, its murky like a cloudy day.

I can't concentrate. Excitment. Curiosity. Shock. Chills.

I sigh as my daughter wobbles to me and I scoop her in my arms. I can see it now, worst hurricane in 6 years and the Crobitt house still stands. This is similar but not related to the instance when a pair of swings at the run down school across the house seemingly froze in the air a few years ago... CIA is currently investigating...

I gather my children inside, they were starting to go towards the rushing ocean and who knows what'll happen. I shut the door with a defeated sigh and sulk at the table. The beneits sit gracefully with their powder sugar and I worship it by stuffing it in my mouth.

"I told you..."

I look up. My mothers eyes are glowing that familiar bright green and she has that devious smirk on her face. She always gave me that look as a child as if she's trying to tell me something. That, or it's to prove something, which I still dont know. I dont think I ever will.

"...you're father built this house. No one is taking it from me..."

...

...

"Now, elbows off the table."

-------

If you like to write or be creative, perhaps you need inspiration, go check out this book! Its the best!

[killthe-illusionarydreams]

Us Against The World

Part 6/?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Fred Weasley x reader

Warning: abuse, so please read with caution, if this triggers you please be wary xx

—————

The last school month, in short, had been stressful. Not only for you, but for about 30 other people (who you didnt care about), Dumbledore had returned to Hogwarts, in truth you never really cared about that, always viewing Dumbledore as a man who was all bark & no bite. Nevertheless, he was better than Umbridge.

You may ask how Y/N knew that. Well... she was involved in the battle at the Department of Ministeries. Dragged there against her will by Hermione Granger who convinced Potter that she’d be of help since she’s been there before. Y/N reluctantly accompanied them there seeing as she honestly had nothing better to do in regards of Fred leaving school early.

When they arrived thats when the chaos began, Potter was talking about some dream or nightmare- thinking of himself as a seer or something- truth be told she wasnt paying attention. Their plans to save someone abruptly came to a halt when a plethora of Death Eaters arrived at the scene. Y/Ns parents amongst them.

****

“What are you doing here?” Your mother hissed in your ear as she caught your arm begind your back, her grip causing you to be in excruciating pain.

“I didnt know of your plans” you free yourself from her tight grip to face her with a frowed brow “If I did you know I wouldve avoided being here!”

The room you were in was vastly empty and barely lit, it held endless vases that you didnt really want to know the content of. You stared at the woman who called herself your mother with great distain, she was well aware of your dislike for the ‘Dark Lord’ & how you would commonly avoid any invitations for their meetings.

A new voice emerged from behind you “Your defiance to follow the Dark Lord has been proven to be a nuisance Y/N.” It was cold and steady, immediately recognising it as your father. Knowing that this was the calm before the storm, you let out a shaky breath.

Against your better judgement you turn to face him “Its not my fault you chose to follow such idiotic idealisations.” he was barely visible in the darkness, only the evil glint in his eyes were illuminating the place. His jaw tensed as he took several steps closer to you, your mother standing by his side. What a pitiful scene.

“You have associated our family name with blood traitors and mudbloods.” He spat, the look on his face being one of disgust “You yet again are defying me, defying your mother & defying the Dark Lord. You have been given many a chance to reconsider, to join the winning side, to please us.” He extended his arm, wand pointed straight at you “Crucio!”

You didnt even have the chance to defend yourself, partly out of fear, partly out of knowledge of how this would normally go.

Your screams rung through the room as unbearable pain shot through your body, causing you to drop to the ground. This was not the first time, but by far was this the worst its ever felt, it felt like millions of hot pokers were going through your flesh til it was raw. For how long your cries of pain lasted you were sure that your voice would soon go. Then it stopped. Rendering you breathless.

Your mother continued from where your father left off with a soff “Your whole life you’ve been a disappointment. Thats all you are. Why Y/N? You were a child prodigy, you could’ve had it all and made us proud for once.”

You tried to look up at her, but the aftermath of the curse wasnt letting you do that so you said it from the crippled position on the floor “If you were better people-“ you take a hasty breath in “if you were better parents, youd see how insane you’re being. Treating me like shit, like nothing wont get you anywhere but dead.”

“Is that a threat?” Your father leant down, a faint smirk was evident on his tone “Oh thats all you do Y/N, threaten us. Why dont you get up and fight.” He spat mockingly knowing fully well that last time you tried to stand against them you ended up in a similar position- in pain.

Y/N gimaced through the pain, making motions to get up and face them. The two adults laughed at the girls attempts, not realising that she managed to stand herself up. “Dolor!” You let out, pointing your wand at the man, making him fall back against the wall with a crunch.

Y/Ns mothers eyes widened “Oh so you’re attempting this again?” She hissed and shot a spell at the girl that she managed to dodge.

The two were so emerced in their battle that Y/N had not realised her father was regaining concentration “Impendio!” He shouted aiming it at the young girl, causing her to drop to the ground in pain again. “You’ve tried and failed girl.”

Y/N was yet again bent down on the floor in pain, gaining some strength she looks up at her mother who was nearer to her mutters out “clamoris.” Causing the woman to screech out, her father reacted fast by going over to his daughter & slapping her, making the spell stop.

“Dont you dare.” He seethes “Dont you dare try to overpower us, you know how this ends.” He yet again uttered the word “Crucio.”

Y/N voice was hoarse from the cries, her throat was sore & body in excruciating agony. The ways her body twisted was unimaginable, the mental pain It’d inflicted on her was uncomparable to anything before. Through Y/N screeches you could faintly hear her mother send another spell at her, making her body roughly jolt on the floor. Y/N felt as though her organs were being pulled out of her & roghly shoved back in, her brain was exploding and reforming itself, leading her on the brink of insanity.

She wasnt sure how long this lasted, it felt like days but it were mere minutes before someone intruded on them.

“Stupify!” The pain had suddenly stopped, however, Y/N made no motion to move. Both unable to and not wanting to do so. Secretly thanking her saviours Y/N closed her eyes, she physically couldnt move an inch. The feeling of weakness once again overtook her mind.

Whoever saved you had stopped your parents, making them flee out of the room, but not before you heard your mother utter

“We’ll see you at home Y/N.” Your blood ran cold at those words, if you were able to speak youd curse them out, make them regret ever treating you how they did. You could hear more people arriving, unaware how many were there you kept your eyes shut. You wanted the pain to stop.

****

However before that, before the uproar from the Ministry, you encountered worse heartbreak. Somewhat your own doing, somewhat fates. Fred had told you about his and Georges plans for their grand escape. Of course you supported him, you only wanted whats best for him & if he thought that opening their shop was it- then you’d encourage the boy to continue with it.

Him leaving would eliminate suspicions of your relationship, but that also meant your time togther would be cut short.

****

“Fred thats amazing.” You breathed out “Do it. Go, its what you’ve worked so hard for.” You stroked his face as he had a sad smile painted on

“You really think so?” The usually confident Fred sounded unsure “You dont think its stupid?” You frowned, confused as to why he didnt think you believed in him “Its just... i dunno, you’ve never shown much interest in pranks.”

All of a sudden a look of regret etched its way onto your face “Oh Freddie...” you put your other hand on the side of his face to make him look you in the eyes “Fred I believe in you, of course I think this is a good idea. I know I dont show much interest in your pranks but thats just because I’m not good at them and jealous at how your brain comes up with it all. Its smart and ingenious and dear Salazar you’re so creative and everyone loves them, but whats more important is that you love them- you’re good at them. This is what you’ve wanted your whole life and I know, I just know how well this business will do.” You pleaded with him to realise how much you meant it.

The boy sighed at your words “Ya think?”

You nod vigorously “Course.”

The grin that covered his face from ear to ear was the biggest you’ve ever seen him smile, he kissed you, the smell of gunpowder overpowered your senses and made you smile against his lips.

You stop abruptly, a sudden intense feeling of dread clouded your thoughts “What about us?”

He looked at you confused “What’d you mean? We’ll still be us. Plus we’ll be out of school so we dont have to hide-“

“My parents, Fred.” You sigh and step away from the boy no longer touching him “They still exist.”

“Who cares!” He was riding on a sudden sence of euphoria “Move in with me and George! He wont mind and-“

You interrupted him “Fred. Be rational.” You wanted to be optimistic, you wanted to be with him, but could you without endangering him? Seriously? “While we’re together, none of you will be safe. I cant live with that.”

His whole demenor shifted, suddenly harsher “So what are you saying? You want us finished?” He accused you, making you inwardly recoil with regret, yet not letting it show on your face.

“Fred...” you sigh “You knew this would happen, I told you this a year ago, i told you that this would come to an end.”

He scoffed “And I said that you’d be too inlove with me to care! So what, you dont love me?”

“Stop jumping to conclusions!” You shout, angry how he was turning this on you when you were doing this for his own safety and he was refusing to see that.

“Well clearly you dont if you’re doing this.” He grumbled out “Maybe you never did.”

You felt like he just slapped you. A look of shock engulfed your face, how dare he say that, how dare he think that. You were doing this BECAUSE you loved him. He meant more to you than your own life did, but if he was going to act like an immature moron then let him. “Sure. Sure Fred, I never loved you, you were just a distraction. Does that make it easier for you?” You snarl, the anger making you want to make him feel bad. He didnt respond, a look of annoyance and shame on his face.

You tense your jaw, carrying on “We’re finished.” There was a moment of deathening silence, taking his lack of response as agreement, you nod and leave with a lowly “Goobye Fred, good luck.” In much worse of a mood than what you were in a minute ago.

Fred watched you leave, desperately wanting to say something, to shout and yell, but he did nothing. He let you go. To his upmost regret, he let you go. His own stubbornness getting in the way of apologising, or running after you, of shouting that you had him to get through this. That he’d wait til you sort everything out at home. But he just remained dead still.

****

Y/N was sitting in an empty carriage on the Hogwarts Express, shunning anyone that tried to sit with her, a blank stare had permanently been a guest on her face since the Battle at the Ministry. Thankfully the effects of the curses did not have long lasting effects on her, her injuries only just started to heal, several scrapes and bruises were visible on her face & her lip had been busted- the more severe and painful injuries were covered by clothing. Her blank expression was more due to the fact that she hadnt talked to anyone about what happened there. She missed Fred dearly & that also didnt help her misery.

Of course Y/N knew that her parents hated her, that was never up for discussion, however, finally the extent of hatred for their own child finally set in. To hurt her in closed doors was one thing, but for the pleasure of a guy with no nose was another. She knew that this was always going to happen, that the final string connecting them together would soon have to be cut. There was only one left now. She had to go home and sever it.

The compartment door swung open, the intruders knew that Y/N was the one in there as several people over the last ten minutes have been leaving it annoyed at how rudley the girl told them to leave. The door soon closed, three new bodies were sitting with Y/N.

“You need to leave” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet still made them hold on to each word. The three didnt make a move to leave & looked at eachother instead, before Hermione began.

“We wanted to say thank you.” She said softly “We never got the chance to say it to you before” she tried to placed a hand on your shoulder but you grabbed her wrist, stopping her from touching you.

You hadnt looked away from the window since they had walked in, unable, unwilling to tear your gaze from it. “Dont thank me.” You said after a tense moment of silence “I didnt do anything.”

“Are you kidding?” Came the boisterous voice of Ron “i saw how you fought the Death Eaters at the start, bloody wicked! If I ever have to take one thing to a deserted island itd be you. Wherever Y/N is, you’re bound to survive.” He beamed

You sighed lightly, if only he saw how you failed with your parents. He’d be singing a different tune. Although, you were glad that the Weasley boy was no longer fearful of you. “I told you, wandless magic does wonders.” You mumbled

“Would you teach us?” Hermione elbowed him “What ‘mione? Shes allowed to use magic and seeing as shes out of school I thought Y/N might be able to help us!” He grumbled. Clearly oblivious to your whole demenor.

“Probably not Weasley, I dont know where I’ll be this Summer.” This was true, you didnt, you also didnt know what plans your parents had for you.

“Oh...” he sounded disappointed, clearly wondering what was going on with you and Fred, obviously unaware thst you had broken up.

There was another long moment of silence before Potter spoke up “Thank you for helping me. You didnt have to, but you did.”

You hummed in agreement, unable to respond properly to his thanks. It was strange to you that he wasnt glaring daggers at you, normally he would try anything to dismiss you. “I’m sorry that you lost someone.” You finally say “I heard about Sirius.” You always knew that he wasnt responsible for the death of Potters parents, years ago Petter Pettigrew made an appearance at your house & your parents explained who was really behind it.

The boy just mumbled a thanks, yet another tense silence filled the air. Y/N was clearly still uncomfortable with the three being there, even more so that they were quietly mumbling amongst themselves, Y/N blocked it out.

“Who was that, that you fought with in the ministry?”

You tensed up, you knew this would happen, knew that they’d ask questions. No one knew who you were in there with, bar from whatever adult saved you in there. It was near the end of the fight so you were made aware that the Order Of The Pheonix had arrived, after that you were sent to Madame Pomfrey and passed out.

The red head interjected quietly “Dad told me that you were in a room with someone when he came in, said that they seemed very effected by your magic... but you were worse.”

“My parents.” You finally said not making eye contact. “They were my parents.”

There was yet another uncomfortable silence, none of them knew to what extent you disagreed with your family, but after seeing what happened at the ministry they realised. Realised why you were so cold & rude & distant. They sympathised with you, not that you needed it. You needed Fred. You wanted to touch him, to hug him, to tell him what happened. But you couldn’t. You two were done & he wasnt there.

———-

Tags: @sir-lili @nxstalgicnxbxdy @bluebellwoods @httpfandxms

[fratboyivy]

How You Get the Girl Hiccstrid one-shot

A loud crash woke him up in a panic as he frantically looked around the room to find the source of the noise. “Toothless, what are you doing half out the window?” The dragon turned back to him with an excited look on his face as he looked back and forth between outside the window and Hiccup, obviously wanting Hiccup to look outside. He rolled his eyes and slowly stood up from his chair, trying to stretch the cramps out of his leg. “I really gotta stop falling asleep at my desk,” he mumbled to himself as he walked over towards the window. He peered outside but saw nothing. “What am I supposed to be looking at here, bud?” he asked the dragon who was still looking overly excited. He looked around outside a bit more, and was about to go back to sleep when he saw a figure not far from where he was. He squinted his eyes in an attempt to make out who it was, when he finally recognized who it was, “Astrid!”

He landed quietly near her, trying not to startle her, but Toothless had other plans. He bounded over to Stormfly, causing Astrid to gasp and whip out her knives, though she almost immediately recognized him. “Toothless? What are you doing out here,” she then realized that wherever Toothless is, most likely Hiccup is there too. She turned around and saw him nervously standing there. “Hiccup? what are you doing?” 

“Well,- I uh- I- I mean not me I didn’t like- go looking for you or something uh- Toothless got all excited cause he saw Stormfly and ended up knocking a candle off the windowsill, which woke me up and brought me over to the window where I saw you and uh now here I am,” he smiled that awkward sideways smile he always did when he was nervous, which seemed to be frequent around Astrid. She loved it, but fought back a smile and said, “so you came out here to...?” 

“Oh I just uh I guess I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean I saw you standing in front of your destroyed childhood house and I just wanted to see if you needed a friend…” he trailed off. She stared at him for a few moments, and fearing he’d done something wrong, he started to say, “I mean I can go back, when I say it out loud it sounds stupid, you probably just want to be alone right now.” He started to motion for Toothless to come, but she grabbed his hands and stopped him. “It’s fine. You don’t have to go. A friend wouldn’t be so bad right now,” she let go of his hands and he brought them back down to his side. They both turned to face the house, and figuring she just wanted company, not a therapist, Hiccup kept quiet and just let her do what she needed to. 

“Why wasn’t I here?” Astrid mumbled after a few minutes. Hiccup turned to her. “What?” he asked softly. She looked up at him and spoke a little louder, “why wasn’t I here? I could’ve helped them. I could’ve prevented their home from getting completely destroyed,” she wrapped her arms around her stomach and turned away from him. 

“Astrid, you can’t possibly blame yourself for this. We were at the Edge! How could you have possibly known an attack was coming?”

“Exactly, Hiccup. I wasn’t here. I couldn’t have known there was going to be an attack. But maybe I could’ve, had I actually been here with them.” Hiccup started to speak but before he could get a word out she started again.

“I mean I know the dangers Berk faces. I know the enemies we have. I know that at any moment, we could be attacked. So why did I leave? I should’ve stayed here and helped protect Berk-”

“Astrid, Astrid, slow down, this is not your fault,” Hiccup said as he gently grabbed her hands to calm her down. “There is no way you could’ve prevented this. Whether you were here or not, no one saw this attack coming, which means you wouldn't have either. It wouldn’t have been any different if you were here.” He let go of her hands as she looked up at him. He couldn’t tell if she was angry at him or not, but he braced himself for a punch that never came. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. This was the last thing he’d expected to happen, but regardless, he knew she needed him. He hugged her back and held her head against his chest as she cried. He wasn’t that much taller than her, but he was tall enough that the top of her head fit right under his chin. He didn’t know what to say, or if he should even say anything at all, so he just held her and did his best to comfort her. They stayed like that for a while, until he heard Astrid whisper, “what if they’d died, Hiccup?” He pulled away and without thinking, put his hand on her cheek. She froze at the gesture, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“But they didn’t. I know it’s scary to think about what might have happened, but you can’t think about that. What matters now is they’re okay. Nothing happened to them. They weren’t home when the attack happened, and the worst thing that happened was your house getting destroyed.” They fell silent for a moment, and Astrid looked up at him, but didn’t say anything. Their eyes remained locked, and Astrid moved closer to him. They were nearly face to face, and Astrid leaned in a bit, clearly wanting Hiccup to meet her halfway. 

“I- uh- um- you- you know, Astrid,” Hiccup stuttered as he walked over to Toothless, “whenever I feel upset or- or something like that, I usually take a relaxing flight on Toothless. Would you maybe wanna…?” He gestured to the open spot behind him on the dragon. She wanted to be upset with him, but she told herself it wasn’t worth it, so she walked over to him and climbed onto the spot behind him.

 “At least I’m not dangling from a tree this time,” she teased. He laughed, remembering that night he’d gained her trust, and motioned for Toothless to fly up. Once they were in the air, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. Hiccup knew it was probably just comfortable for her, and it didn’t mean anything, but it still made him smile like crazy. He had strong feelings for her, this he knew. But he promised himself he’d never let her know, for fear that it would ruin the friendship they’d built over the past 3 years. He told himself that no matter what way it was, romantic or platonic, as long as she were in his life, he was happy. He did, of course, think about what it would be like if they were together. Hell, he was thinking about it now. He thought about waking up next to her every morning, and being able to hold her close to him at night. He thought a lot more than he’d like to admit about kissing her. Sure, they’d kissed two times before, but the first was in a “thanks for risking your life to save the entirety of the village” type way and the second was at Thawfest, when he’d purposefully failed a competition so that Snotlout could win, so that was more of a “that was a nice thing you did out there today” type of kiss. He didn’t think either of them were romantic, at least not on her end. He thought of them as mere “thank you’s”. But that’s not how he wanted it. He wanted to be able to run his fingers through her hair, and kiss her goodnight, and in the mornings. 

He snapped himself out of his thoughts, and told himself it wouldn’t be fair to put her in an awkward situation, and unless she made it clear she felt the same way for him, they had to stay platonic. He realized he hadn’t heard from her in a while, so he peered back at her. Her arms were still around his waist, but she’d moved her head so her cheek was resting on his shoulder, and her eyes were closed. She’d fallen asleep. He whispered her name a couple of times, just to confirm, and when she didn’t respond, he told Toothless to drop them by her Aunt’s house where she and her parents were staying while their house was repaired. However, no one was home. Multiple ships had been sent out to collect new resources to replace what was lost in the attack, and aboard those ships were Astrid’s parents and their siblings. He knew he wouldn’t be able to carry her all the way to her bed, and he didn’t want to wake her up, so he carefully led Toothless inside. He figured no one would mind, as long as they didn’t break anything. They made their way to the room she was staying in, and he carefully got off Toothless and carried her to the bed. He pulled some blankets over her and hesitated before placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. He began walking towards the door when he heard Astrid say, “um, Hiccup? Could you possibly stay? There’s no one here and I don’t want to be alone right now.” He turned towards her and nervously sputtered out, “I- yeah- are you- uh- are you sure?” He could barely see her but he knew she was looking at him with a serious expression, so he told Toothless to head to the arena and stay there for the night. Once Toothless was gone and Hiccup knew he’d made it safely, he lit a candle, detached his prosthetic, laid down next to her, and blew out the candle. His thoughts were racing, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep much, but he wanted to be here for Astrid, so he stayed. A few moments passed and Astrid spoke.

“I can’t close my eyes without imagining what would’ve happened if my parents would’ve been in the house,” she admitted. Hiccup turned to face her and said, “I know what that’s like. Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine what would’ve happened if Toothless hadn’t caught me during the Battle of the Green Death. It scares me. I imagine the people I would’ve hurt if I would’ve… you know…” they both knew what he was going to say, but neither of them said it, “look the point is,” he continued as he began to move her bangs to the side. He quickly froze and pulled his hand away, “Oh Gods uh- I’m so sorry I dont kno-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Everything happened so fast, and all he knew was that one moment her lips were on his and the next moment she was pulling away, babbling an apology, “Sorry, I don’t know what- I mean if you don’t feel the sam-” but it was his turn to cut her off. 

He leaned forward and kissed her. She hesitated for a moment before kissing him back. This was nothing like any of the kisses they’d previously shared. He was bolder this time, taking most of the control, which, to Astrid’s surprise, she didn’t mind. His lips were soft and he was gentle as he ran his fingers through her hair. She realized that this- he- was all she wanted. And it was all Hiccup ever wanted too. He remained calm on the outside but his mind was spinning with a million thoughts- but the only one he could pay attention to was the one saying he loved her. He loved her, he loved this. The quick pauses to take a breath, and the reconnecting of their lips, which sent a fire throughout his body each time, the feeling of her hair in his hands, all of it. He didn’t want it to end, and neither did she. Neither knew how long they stayed like that, but eventually they pulled apart, the feeling of each other still on their lips. 

“Um lips okay wow that just…” she had no idea what to say.

“Did you just seriously just say ‘um lips’ to me?” he joked. She laughed and lightly punched him on the arm, “I just never expected you to initiate something like that, Haddock,” she teased back, though she meant it. Astrid had always been the one to initiate any intimate moments they shared, and she hadn’t expected Hiccup, the boy who got flustered whenever they made eye contact for more than 3 seconds, to do something that bold. Not that she was complaining though. Hiccup faked a smug smile and voice saying, “yeah I just did that.”

“Do I need to humble you Dragon Boy?” and with that, she pushed him off the bed. He landed with a thud but quickly got up in a play fighting stance. “So this is how it is huh?” he lunged at her on the bed, attempting to grab her around the waist to tickle her, but she quickly dodged. 

“You can’t win against me,” she said with a smirk

“Oh yeah, Hofferson? Let’s see,” he said as he went for her again, but to neither of their surprise, she was just that much quicker than him. She maneuvered by him so that she was behind him, grabbed his arm, and pinned it against his back, “what was that you were saying, ‘let’s see’?” 

“I’m not giving up yet, I’ve- I’ve got something coming you’ll never expect,” he said attempting to sound confident, but it really just came across as struggling. 

“Oh yeah? That’s okay, I can wait like this. Take your time,” she said in a sly tone. She knew she had him beat, but she didn’t mind letting him pretend he’d thought of something. After a few minutes, he caved in, “alright fine, fine I give up! You win,” he said, and Astrid dropped his arm, laughing hysterically.

“I almost had you!”

“I’m sure you did,” she said, her laughter slowly subsiding. They were both exhausted and laid down on the bed, this time, Hiccup’s arm wrapped around Astrid, and Astrid’s head on his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall of each breath he took. This was the most comfortable she’d ever felt in her entire life, and she wanted to stay like this forever. 

“Astrid, I promise you none of this is your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what happened here while you were gone.” She didn’t say anything for a moment, and Hiccup figured she was asleep. 

“Thank you, Hiccup. For everything tonight. Taking me on Toothless, getting me back home, staying with me, everything. It really means a lot to me.” He smiled and held her tighter, gently brushing his hands through her hair. 

“Astrid I will always be here for you, no matter what. I know you think you have to deal with things alone, but you don’t. You have me, the dragon riders, your parents, so many people that care about you and wouldn’t hesitate to help you with something. You don’t have to go through everything alone.” He was right, but he also wasn’t. No one would be there for her the way he is. 

“The truth is, Hiccup- you’re the person I trust the most. I know that sounds crazy because it should be my parents, but they’re traditional vikings, they think the best way to handle emotions is with axes and sharp things. And I love the dragon riders, don’t get me wrong, but I probably wouldn’t trust them with too many things. Fishlegs is nice, but he’d probably just try and get me to meditate, the twins, well that’s pretty self explanatory,” Hiccup laughed and agreed with that one, “Snotlout is the last person I’d trust with anything, and Heather isn’t around enough for me to talk to her frequently. Hiccup, you’re the only one that let’s me deal with things the way I need to. You make me feel… safe. You always have. That night you took me on the first flight on Toothless, I remember me yelling at you ‘I am not listening to anything you have to say’, and instead of getting angry, you worked with me and said, ‘then I won’t speak, just let me show you.’ You never try and argue and you don't get upset, you just let me be myself,” she confessed. 

“Well I guess you didn’t really have a choice to trust me when you were stuck up in that tree,” he joked, “but I never knew I made you feel that way. I mean, I’m glad I do, I just never knew. And it doesn’t sound crazy, I don’t trust my dad with a whole lot, and obviously I don’t know my mom. And the dragon riders can be a bit much sometimes, that is true. I guess the same goes for me, you’re the person I trust the most too.” She gave a content smile and lifted her head up and kissed him gently. She placed her head back on his chest and closed her eyes, feeling happier than she ever had.

Once Hiccup thought she was asleep, he whispered, “I love you, Astrid Hofferson,” and closed his eyes, which were almost immediately reopened when he heard a quiet, “I love you too, Haddock.” He wanted to stay awake, just for a little bit longer. He wanted to live in this moment forever. Astrid curled up against him, peacefully sleeping, her hair cascading down her back and across his chest, her head perfectly placed in the crook of his neck. But sooner than he cared for, sleep overtook him and they were both fast asleep, still holding onto each other as tightly as they could. 

[misterbitches]

I ship muren and li cheng bc i only saw it through gifs then i watched this episode cos i was like im only starting this show if they kiss im waiting and they did and it was nice and i got so anxious that i was about to fucking vomit. I really like them together. The top/bottom shit is dumb and i hope if they must mention it they all build a bridge and get over it so they can switch cos who gives a shit. I didnt realize how large they all are like most “tall” men on tv are lying. But bc that kid is so thin and tall and the other one (idk the stepbrother) is huge too. Li cheng is shorter than them both but more ~manly~ but still short so why doesnt he take a DICK UP HIS BUTT XD since that’s all that fucking matters and there’s only 2 genders and 2 eays to have sex lmao so nothing else otherwise ur screwed

Hd a terrible past couple of weeks personally and because i keep seeing my peopl eget murdered and things ripped from us ^_____^ anyway here’s Some libertatrian communist dumb bitch discoars so i’ll tag it:

keep in mind these are my opinions’”” when i engage in discourse. I am not the end all be all and I don’t need you to agree. There’s some shit I am non-negotiable on but thsi is just exchanging of information. Any authoratative tone I take on comes from my beliefs, my life, my experiences, and what I choose to cultivate as a person and an artist. I dont have control over your feelings, you do. If it hurts you then either tell me the issue and be PRECISE about it, understand that context matters which is why i type so much in engagement, and do not fucking lie or misconstrue my words. Do not call me western ever in your life either. I am a black-american. I have adhd and bc i am a black woman if ur automatically thinking im brolic i am accepting money in my paypal for ur wellbeing to get me to shut the fuck up.Thanks.

The stepbrothers storyline is stupid and lazy writing. I really want to counter people that say it’s written well and that it’s interesting because it isn’t. Even if it was illicit and fucked we can write a story out about this. Let’s rethink what they could have done shall we:

- become stepbrothers at about 16 and their parents mismanage the relationship and they fail in trying to get an integrated family together (this is what happened in the #iconic transit girls and that was fuckin’ weird but hey dude guess what we watched it and it was weird but not unethical and we know one is like 19 and the other is 21 and a girl so it’s like wow you avoided so much and handled their stepsister story very…….um lightly given the end lmao but it was there and people had AGENCY)

-OR you realize that freak is obsessed with him and then he realizes it and is like “bitch i swear to god” and in typical shtity trope BL fashion they can find a way from obsession, to loss and independence when you lose your obsession, to “love” if they choose

- have the fucked up shit but make it clear what the issues are and you literally cannot write your way out of it so do not try

But why can’t fucked up things be shown? Also this is realistic.

0. Well according to you but no one said that they can’t. So that’s on your interpretation of critique (that is, again, not bullying or harassment.) They can, i just gave plenty of scenarios in which it is affective and not just annoying to witness, trope-y, and frankly ridiculous and offensive. Sorry! They don’t do it well. You can come up with alternatives too. See #2 btw.

1. No it isn’t doing a good job of reflecting life because life has consequences. The exaggeration in drama doesn’t mean the arc shouldn’t be there. Almost always things that aren’t heavy with the message or meant to be sobering in a deep way are COMPELLING. The realism is the basis for art because we are human. This is not the way real humans act.

Someone said Tharn Type was mature and I had to laugh because no, no one acts that way and is “in love” if they act that way that means they fucking hate each other and they’re immature and frankly it’s just not that interesting for many of us to watch because the dramatization of the “realism” is fucking bonkers. That was such poor writing it is unbelievable and someone has the audacityt o say it’s how real adults act. Fucking murder me if I’m with someone for 7 years and we break up over a miscommunication and for some reason I am not as horny as my always horny boyfriend. The fuck? What kind of lives do you lead? Either you are not an adult or you are an adult who needs therapy.

I also hear the “realistic” argument but then people try and temper it with “but also it’s fiction.” What do you think fiction is? Why do you think filmmaking exists? Number one, it’s propaganda in the sense that you want others to buy into your presentation and see what you see. That means that the creators are telling people and influencing them WITH ART BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT IT IS about their feelings around a situation. That’s why it is imperative to be responsible as a filmmaker and artist and underline the deepness of creepiness if that’s what they want. If they want to relay that rape sometimes ok and psychos are crazy so they get boy (??!?!?!? BITCH?) then they achieved it with no innovative information. We know people get raped bc we are human beings and many of us live with that fear. You know, being the target demo and all. And bc BL loves that trope it’s rape fantasy peddled to young people and women. Just like shitty wattpad fics or NYT best sellers. Hooray, what now? Or are you trying to purport that this isn’t glorified fanfiction? Which it literally is

2. This is the issue with these shows. No one is saying that fucked up shit cannot be shown. There’s a film about a woman who is raped and she falls in love with her rapist (because he was masked but i think we find out later that she knows. Binoche is in it.) I have no desire for that film—i think it’s by a man and i extra dont care—but I hear it’s sort of powerful for many. I heard it was a good film. But the act itself is always eschewed and the conflict comes from how fucking ridiculous it is especially finding out that she knows. The power imbalance adn the possibility. They may not have handled it in a way I would have cared for but it was there.

There’s simply no imagination because these people do not care that much and aren’t great writers and filmmakers because they simply do not have to be. Sorry.

The industry doesn’t rely on the best they rely on efficiency (this is everywhere.) You can tell by the camera angles, the editing, the camera itself (idk if it is multicam but the flatness is typical soap flatness without the glowboxes to soften their faces.) Simple constant lighting. Now the surroundings are mostly beautiful. But even to some of the costumes. And those edits are abysmal, some of that camera work.

So with all that said even with the couple I extremely enjoy I see its (H4) faults. Add into that a lazily thrown together “shocking” love and if they are trying to get us to feel a type of way about its sexiness they fail. This is why movies like 50sog, 365 days, etc aren’t enjoyable to people because it’s fucking strange situations that they dont want to entangle or make enjoyable to viewers across the board. They know what people will take. It’s just that bitch what are we here for if even the sexiness isn’t there for ur stupid story.

At least with that teenager and 30 yr old man in MODC (which i do not love but i like them in theory if it wasnt totally repulsive to me and also if it was developed in a way that was good TO ME) they had their, er, “sex appeal” i talk about this as well the main couple in MODC to me, visually, was a miss. Not bc whatshisface was small and stuff but bc he was so sickly and they needed that to propel the story but it was just not appealing given how the story progressed. A missed opportunity in tying the two together besides making him look waif-y and sickly only to have the “did ur mom die in a car crash? No, cancer” type of move in not another teen movie. But the opposite. And not funny. Wayne tho????? GORL. Eggs. Cracked.

fandoms have a very warped sense of harrassment and discourse.

Most fandoms have harassers who are “protecting” the cast and crew who don’t need their protection (or maybe the crew does since they probably dont get paid well but why the fuck would anyone care about that lol) but very few have the people who have concerns or massive critique about the show are not going to be “bullying.”

If people are saying “if you like xyz, u suck” then sure it may suck for you to see but who fucking cares. Either talk to the person or don’t be friends with them. That is not bullying or harrassment. Things that are shitty get criticized. Fuck, things that aren’t shitty don’t. Get away from this idea of cancel culture and people misunderstanding the story. We have the ability to.

Think beyond your noses of personal preference. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them.

And guess what? You won’t like everybody. Many people can’t stand me i’m sure. Oh well. I mean frankly I don’t like that and I feel very unsettled when I don’t feel understood. That’s ok! I have to temper it. Sometimes calm myself down. I won’t get anything and everything I want. And you won’t like every opinion and sometimes it’s like “man am i a dummy?” But the part of growing up is fucking maanging that and beng honest about “bashing and harrassment” and “bullying” and growing up. Yuo can like what you want the “let people like what they want thing” is so fucking juvenile and THAT is not the real world. Which is probably why so many people feel that way, they dont want to live in the real world. Unfortunately, you do.

Think beyond our noses of personal preference and what we feel emotionally in conjunction with others. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. And you can say things that you believe to be true but it doesn’t make them so or maybe it isn’t received that way to people. And many times we learn new things in the discussions “oh shit i didn’t see it that way” right? Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them. Usually the “opposition” in these situations aren’t the popular beliefs that permeate through society. Trust me lmao

Antiblackness

Antiblackness is a thing. It permeates everywhere. It permeates in this genre and it permeates in fandom. Get it the fuck together. Also do not conflate cultural relativism with being repsectful. They are not barbarians, they are smart human beings either making work or deciding to. We all have diff cultures but we have fucking sense in what is respectful and not. And if we don’t we fucking learn. You cannot excuse things and say “oh culture” when you have 0 idea of that culture or actual people who are radical etc and are fighting against it. Additionally the word westerner is an ignorant term when referring to people in the US or UK who are black. Because we are not. We extend sympathy to other groups and empathy since we know so there is no inherent power imbalance between a black viewer and their subject. Don’t suggest that because it’s wrong and ahistorical and contextless.

FIRST the fallacy of representation as freedom makes people fucking complacent, individualistic, and doesn’t let them think critically. Consumption and discourse around consumption is not helping material conditions of the marginalized communities in your home, the black ones who are ignored, those intersectionalized in these communities. Groups talk about art and what it means for them outside of just what we see and because we also don’t have access to a bunch of Thai reviews or what movements or going on we are less likely to know if we don’t FUCKING SEARCH for it. Because art is constant...which leads me to....

Representation is difficult. It matters and it doesn’t.

Tthese shows are not meant to overturn the LGBTQ+ community.

There are queer filmmakers and artists in these countries. Deep illustrious film careers or even TV that is moving and deliberate. We can even see it with the dude from “your name engraved” in their short series he was in beforehand. BL is no wa pejorative because it is simply not “qu**r” storytelling whatever that means. But know it has always existed everywhere and there are also out artists or radical artists in all these countries who do no respect mediums that are cash-grabs and poorly made.

ex: As much as “Like in the Movies” sort of isnt for me and is a bit hamfisted you can tell how much love goes into that. Love of the characters, acting, and message. Yes it’s cringey to see some of the lines (like very tbh subtlety wasnt exactly their strong suit) and yea naming them after lenin and marx is just 0ihgoaudgijposkagjihou BUT GUESS WHAT? THEY FUCKING DID IT. THEY TRIED. And class was a large component as well bc u cant fuckin ignore it. The show is aware of the machinations in its world as a show but also in the philippines and for a fuckin reason. And duatarte? Loooooooool so like yea not so sure bl makes him love his ppl but the show isnt trying to do that

It’s not a transgressive genre and it has no reason to be. No ethical anything under the way we live it’s just trying your fucking best to be. That’s it. They serve societal ills and capital’s purposes. Which is fine but it is not revolutionary.

These countries in SEA or even SA do not have as big budget for even mainstream dramas—though things are changing and that’s bc REVENUE like revenue from kpop is fucking huge for SK and again so much about that is bc of what happened in their history from japanese imperialism to WWII to the US—so for “queer” stuff it is sort of now important to make that an export and it sure is one. Not only globally or to the west but a lot of these places make their money within asia (duh!) outside of their countries. OBVIOUSLY. so BL is a way to output and gain money. The thing is, it doesnt seem to be put back into the industry at all. For people in all these countries to make works that aren’t for mainstream or wont reach as many people there’s a difference between trying and just shoving shit in your face and going here it’s gay you like it right? But dont antagonize the inherent patriarchal nature of BL.

Another thing: did you guys know thailand was never colonized? You should look it up. There’s little hints of things in ITSAY to represent french influence still. Isnt that fascinating? Find out why. It’s certainly interesting that the representation, though damaging and dubious many times and also incorrect like any media, is huge in asia and this isnt a commodity here (the US) exactly. A lot of that has to do with colonial ideas of gender of which I am sure. But listen………lmao

Sometimes people dont give a shit. And it very much shows. Here is the thing once again. GOOD TRANSGRESSIVE WORK exists.

Een within the capitalist Bs paradigm or you can see people trying (I can sort of applaud parts of lovely writer) also queer media has always existed everywhere the reason you don’t know about it is because it gets takena nd commodified into a mainstream product. We hvae little incentive, particularly if we are not fans of cinema or art in gen, to search fror others when the output is right here. Being dictated by others and the state and who will give you money. No longer an effort of a cast and crew who want to convey things. But google [any country] independent cinema, radical cinema, queer radical cinema, or even retrospectives on the cinema and rethinking what is queer and radical in film. What if we took that, diluted it, got rid of the creators who put themselves through all the work, ignroe al the nuances and do……………….two actors who are conventionally attractive with no chemistry making out.

It’s the same here lets say daniel kaluuya winning the oscar for the film about the BPP. I heard it was okay and not too offensive but it still isnt’ enough. It still isn’t like hwood isn’t trash, nnati black, misogynistic towards BW and women, and all that other shit. It was pushy but it can’t be enough where we are. Black KKKlansmen i think won an oscar, by circumstance i fuckin hate these award shows they mean nothing, and i like the film a lot but he has his misogynoir still resting in his films even if it is poignant. And it was a film that honestly wasn’t really made for black people. And should all art be a response to direct trauma or trying to make ourselves palatable when we’re just human?

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ and it’s importance (capitalism) but also sorta individual responsibility

Considering a lot of these actors are rich and then just dip that’s another problem. Mainstream isn’t what sustains marginalized art ever. It doesn’t change in the vast ways we think it does. What changes is the people of these groups pushing, fighting, forcing and then capitalism trying to make it work under capitalism. It will not. It cannot.

This is why artists and labels often don’t mix or you see people like Sonic Youth doing whatever they want and pissing off their label but making them give them money. Same with Nirvana. Vince Staples. The thing is they can fight and make good shit but what capitalism helps people….not care? They don’t respect the audience? We’re getting those returns on poor executed product placement, lighting, editing, framing, fucking acting. And you surewon’t see mixed black asians in these shows. WHY R U is the oNLY one i have seen it in and he just disappears (but that was pretty cool.) so who the fuck is this representing? And before you start: asian countries are not homogenous the way we believe them to be. There are marginalized communities outside of even mixed people that are harmed. So you can skrrt cause on that one: you’re wrong buddy. But it gives us the IDEA of a paradise which is what they NEED.With representation and visibility comes consequence and responsibility as artists. What it allows them to do is coast and not think complexly because why should they; it’s mostly the fantasies of some older woman who probably has money and much less interaction with the world. It’s bonkers. And what that allows even further is for them to say YOU ARE THE THING THAT YOU CONSUME and the THING THAT YOU CONSUME IS YOURS. It is not, it is not your identity, form a close bond but figure it the fuck out. Especially for adults who are hellbent on twisting their minds into pretzels and can’t acknowledge what’s just laziness in art and not giving a fucking shit. Truly.

There’s damage that has been done from Parasite as he was supported by CJE&M and the bullshit obsession america had and eveyrone’s poor interpretation of it if they are rich. BJH is a socialist and he is a filmmaker. He has made films that are outstanding and cost a lot of money. But now a fear for indie filmmakers is just not being able to raise that much or have that much attention. Getting funding that helps them instead of expecting the Next Big Thing that is a fad because capitalism is trash. Yes this funneling of money is absolutely harmful to us artists. Even buying in is strategic. Additionally, that film is probs one of the most radical films to have that wide release and accolade (unlike “Sorry to Bother You” which i have a lot of thoughts about. One being that asian exports are acceptable but black ones are not. This is an overall art critique and global media critique. Blackness is removed, not respected.) However, filmmaking isn’t green, it can’t be socialist, and it’s a lot of work. They used tons and tons and TONS of water to do a huge beautiful feat but we still know there is a cost. We have to figure that out because it shouldn’t be. It doesn’t go back into the crew’s pockets the way it should and the work becomes that of the director’s and actors solely. It’s fucking hard. We have to do our part but it doesn’t mean we are doing it perfectly. We just have to try to do better. So does BJH cos he needs to not be a misogynist but anyways i digress.

additionally and this is something some users fail to understand: people in the media sphere generally have fucking money. I went to film school that was international with super fucking rich kids. Taiwanese kids, kids from south asia, china, thailand. They had money. No not upper middle class money, not “rich” money, not some paltry 1m that’s chump change. Fucking money. Fucking RICH-RICH. MILLIONAIRES. BILLIONAIRES. WHICH IS DISGUSTING MIGHT I ADD. The domestic people didn’t have the money for school (in the UK) and i am in a massive amount of debt like every other black student that went there. You do not understand how much money is needed to survive so people who turn to these crew positions even casting etc need this fucking money usually. OKAY. A lot of the people that do well in these dumb shows or even on a larger scale HAVE MONEY. The reason these industries are small and struggling is because of lack of people and lack of resources to independent shit because oh gee it takes money to make things.

Why should I try? Well you don’t have to really if you have money or a name. Yet...

We can tell when like those Tik Tok shows or DCOMs dont give a shit (anymore.) You know how frustrated we get when content for young people is garbage? Well, see, BL is literally that under that system. Occasionally we will get something good now but there is virtually no need in any sector in the world at this point to truly figure out how to make it better and what to do to enhance artistic literacy, outreach, teaching people new things, getting people from these communities there and having true realistic says. Art and culture is IMPERATIVE TO WORLD LIBERATION but not when it is so stiffly trying to bend to capital’s idea of progressiveness. No. Neoliberalism. No.

That’s why in a way ITSAY is a huge feat; it takes from films etc and they clearly had money (the actors rae rich too which….lmaooooo j’aime pas) but it was a respected fucking script, acting was important, blocking, framing. There’s very little to critique as a visual medium for that because I understand what they are trying to do, their market is going to be mostly young girls, but they RESPECT THE FUCKING AUDIENCE. And guess what guys? You can make money from it!!!! WOAH! Since that may be the only goal which is disgusting and repulsive.

HOWEVER AND THIS IS WHAT IS SAD: itsay is an ex of a great show however knowing the actors backgrounds and the pseudo trouble it stirred when they weren’t supporting people protesting against the coup in the summer it really put a damper on my enjoyment. And this is how we can see that:

a) it’s honestly just a show and a good one but b) now what?

These kids (actors, who are like idk 19? 20?) are rich and not saying anything while countless actors, who were filming, did. Even tul who has $$$$ and the thing is the protesting against the coup legitimately attacks the rich. As it should. The protests going on were cries for help, against a dictatorship and fucking coup, asking people to get fucking help for covid, having kids be able to live. There’s a mini on VICE about this and it probably doesnt go too in depth but there’s a kid in there who talks about his friends getting into drugs and how he just wants to make music, have fun, skateboard. And it’s harrowing to see. This is a direct example of what these things do and don’t do. Yea we know a good show is here, we know growing up and slice of life, we know this is a bit of escapism and idealism but the idealism is reflected in the way these actors also choose to live their lives. So what progress? To who? For who? How is this helping me? What purpose does it serve? I say ITSAY serves its purpose as a piece and a glimpse into possibility of growing up but i do not say it antagonizes a broader issue that needs to be relevant in some sense but simply is not. It’s very singleminded and, well, it’s sort of like “besides my sexuality, what do i have to worry about?” But for real humans like....a lot. I do not respect their decision at all.

Why can’t we do our jobs and make something decent and respect our audience? No time, gotta make that sweet sweet sweet cash baybee. Look how progressive we are! Don’t look at history and material conditions. Thanks in advance, management.

History 4 does not have that respect. Many of these shows do not. Sometimes we hit good, sometimes we don’t. But in the end we cannot settle. And I won’t. If I am critiquing something I will not be shy and if I am meant to enjoy something as escapism then these shows NEED to highlight that and it’s rare sometimes (the best twins is a good reminder like that show is bad but man do i Brain Empty when i turn it on and i like that and there’s not much in it that makes me want to kill myself from annoyance but there are transphobic jokes i dont love however the whole show is a comedy about this dude’s crazy homophobic sister and she is constantly positioned as wrong and they talk about the aforementioned trans women as the actor was in drag. Interesting that they can manage that, huh?)

Oh btw.....taiwan has a very complicated history but ignore all the bad stuff it’s good now you can kinda sorta get married and stuff. KMT? You know how i learned that? I care about human beings and read about it lmao. I am not Taiwanese and look at that. So now I have historical and DIALECTICAL~**~*~****~*~*~ context so i can judge it as an artist, a black woman from america, and from the knowledge i have to pick up on their history to see if this fits into a broader picture besides the micro-one of sexuality on an individualized level. And this is kinda where it comes full circle: these shows are not you, you are not them, they do not exist in a vacuum because nothing does. The failure to critique now means continuing on as it has and it will still do so. History and time are not linear in the sense we think it is. Someitmes things are better, sometimes things feel more austere. We are not living under liberation though and these shows are not going to do so. So they are not US nor are they for a nebulous “us” of which the groups are all fractured and have diff opinions anyway (my opinion as a black american is going to vary from an asian woman’s say and that could really clash and i do not feel solidarity with all those in every community i am for several reasons.)

Final thots that have taken up my time and the only thing i actually wanted to write but got distracted:

Anyway my dissertation is that I ilke Muren and LiCheng a lot a lot and i like how cute they are and how truly dumb li cheng is. This is an example of mostly good writing, decent actors, nice chemistry, and sort of a calmness to them. And I super enjoy how Muren is pretty forward with LC in the sense that being together is like very important to truly be together. When he was like “no i didnt forget!” Or when LC asked him something in the office I forget it was 6 am and again i almost threw up and muren nodded and then LC leaned on him. Very cute. I want more of them tho i may have to skip that othre couple (the cameo the ones from MODC) but omfg the younger one HIS HAIR GREW SO MUCH HE LOOKS SO MATURE AND CUTE OMFGIJ0HUG9SAOGIJPKOAGJSIOHUAGIJP hahhaha the one good thing i will say about THEM.idk how old the actor is i figure he was young idk it makes me happy to see him he’s very cute. I hope he’s in something i can watch and not gag at. Is he hot? Who knows but he is a cutie!!

Anyway muren and lc have a good thing going it’s nice to watch ho\pe they dont fuck it up but im truly a sucker for some true finds 2 luvas i think some user on her\e was like i’m not a fan of friends ot lovers bc it doesn’t seem like they’re actually friends and maybe they were referring to this show idk. But it made me think and it was a very good observation. So i think they are friends and also luvrs <3