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wangxianficfinder · 5 months ago

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In the mood for...

Jan 6th

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1. So in the book, xue yang is younger than wei wuxian, like he and Xiao xingchen were supposed to be closer to wwx's son/nephew's age. So, itmf stories where xue yang is actually wwx's son (they do share physical similarities) adopted or bio. Or at least related to each other in some way. Imagine - xue yang is wwx's long lost son or cousin or something. Or things similar to "the kids are OK (I think)" by gosamerglimmer on ao3, where xy wwx & mxy are all cousins descended from lost xue sect

Coincidentally… (Or, if you ask Xue Yang, purposefully with the intent of slander and defamation!) by pipip (G, 2k, WWX & XY, YLLZ WWX, Wangxian is only implied, XY is a Brat, Gremlin XY, MXY Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Happiness, XY Deserves Better, XY is a Little Shit, XY is Bad at Feelings, Everyone Loves WWX)

🔒Til Death Do Us Part by Thyone14 (Not Rated, 73k, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, WWX Needs a Hug, Protective LWJ, Soft WangXian, POV LWJ, POV Alternating, No Smut, POV WWX)

Visitations by Vir_Abelasan (M, 18k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, Modern, Corporate Espionage, Post-Divorce, Reconciliation, Father-Son Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone is kinda sad and needs a hug in this, But hey they get better I promise, Found Family, Custody ArrangementsN, ot a revenge fic, Past Abuse)

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2. ITMF JGY or the cultivation world finding out that the Yilling Patriarch's weakness is LWJ and they're not above using him to take down WWX. It could be LXC pretending to be LWJ to lure WWX out like in 'bloom unto the ground' by tattletold or anything, I'm just looking for fics where everyone is aware of LWJ being WWX's weakness and uses it to their advantage

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3. heyo, Are there Any fics where the Juniors witness Wangxian sweetness? Like that's it. They're just witnessing their beautiful relationship but also angsty moments? Please let me know, please and thank you and have a nice new years 😁 @yasssbassss

Dear Hanguang-Jun by cavaleira (M, 8k, WangXian, ZhuiLing, Fluff, Established Relationship, Humor, Post-Canon)

🔒 The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (T, 19k, WangXian, In-Universe RPF, Romance Novel, LJY’s sense of justice, OYZZ’s sense of romance, Featuring a surprise appearance by WWX’s oft-absent sense of shame, Look the ducklings just want their sort-of dads to be happy okay?, And it’s not like WWX or LWJ are doing a good job of ensuring their own happiness, LJY rejects canon reality and substitutes his own, highly relatable actually, Post-Canon Fix-It, primarily drama-canon with cameos from novel-canon, The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

can anybody find me (somebody to love) by stiltonbasket (G, 2k, WangXian, Slice of Life, Post-Canon, Married WangXian, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Domestic Fluff, Introspection, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Happy Ending)

Over and out by baxia (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Junior Quartet-centric, Junior Ensemble-centric, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Teacher WWX, Teacher LWJ, Married WangXian, Established Relationship, POV LJY, Future zhuiyi)

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4. ITMF request please—any Wangxian horse stories? Like they meet at a riding club or WWX gets to have a favorite horse or their swords are horses? I read the one where he helped save CR bc of LWJ’s request and now I just want more of him with horses. 🐴 tysm!!

Légèreté by perkynurples (T, 65k, WangXian, Modern au, Horse riding, Swords as horses, Crack treated seriously, Friends to Lovers)

Nothing to rec, but I was wondering which fic prompted #4 :) (in general would like it if requesters specified which fic they mean if they make a reference to something)

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5. Any fics that have the Yiling laozu and reincarnated Wei Ying in Mo Xuanyu’s body in the same time period and Lahn Zhan’s reaction to both? I read one called Me Myself and Lan Wanji by Melon and A Tide of Teo Seas by Occulting, so was looking for more or similar fics. Thanks! @toyft2

🔒 Four Parts Honey and One Part Vinegar by masked (T, 13k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Fluff, Humor, Time Travel, 5+1 Things, Jealous WWX, the Impeccable Trust between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, POV Outsider, everyone is Thirsty for Hanguang-jun as one tends to be)

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6. Hi! Happy New Year! I hope 2025 is a blessed year for you all!

For ITMF: any fics that include WangXian wedding where JC is there as WWX’s family. @bitemepotter

Thank you for all your hard work!

With Absolute Splendor by Lise (T, 43k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Wedding planning, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Complicated Relationships, Angst with a happy ending)

For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, Canonical Character Death, Mentions of Rape, not explicit but definitely referenced, Time Travel, Not Everyone Dies au, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, WWX/babie tendencies, WQ is a queen in any reality, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, WWX finds new ways to be oblivious, seriously it surprised even us, Для нас обоих (И время лишь бумажная луна) by nomuad, [Podfic] Cold read of For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by kisahawklin)

A Lifetime of It (Please, and Thank You) by misscam (M, 5k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, JC & WWX, Wedding, Humor, Fluff, Angst, some naughtiness, Switching)

💖 Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 11k, WangXian, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, the make people respect WWX agenda, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Soft WangXian, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, a very very small amount of smut, also a possessed squirrel, El trabajo es bueno si lo quieres by evirtual3, [Podfic] Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts, Le feu qui gagne la rivière by Silu_chan, [Podfic of] The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by exmanhater)

The long road home by dea_liberty (M, 9k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Found Families, Happy Ending, a lot of feelings, Epilogue, Marriage, so many feelings, Some angst, (Русский) The long road home by rootofallevil)

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7. Hello! Good morning/afternoon/evening! For I'm In The Mood For: fics where LWJ thinks that WWX rejected him (after confessing to him) or that WWX only calls him a friend and he just accepted that they could be nothing more.

Only for WWX to find out that LWJ's crush rejected him or that LWJ is heartbroken and tries to find out who rejected LWJ.

LWJ could distance himself from WWX or they continue staying friends. I could definitely go with either Angst or Humor. Thank you :D

r/relationships by vespertineflora (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Viral Reddit Post, Pining, Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Comedy, Love Confessions, Kissing, Happy Ending, r/relationships [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

Some of You by tangerinechar (M, 60k, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi Modern AU, Social Media, Actor AU, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Love Confessions, Matchmaking, Light Angst)

How Wei Ying Went from Oblivious Idiot to Shameless Boyfriend in Three Days by misscam (T, 5k, WangXian, College/University, Modern AU, Getting Together, Humor)

Far Away You Are by cqlorphan (E, 17k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, cleared up by juniors ensemble, Explicit Consent, Bottom LWJ. Top WWX, but i'm sure they switch about it, Multiple Orgasms, Fluff and Smut, with a little angst - as a treat)

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8. Hello and happy holidays!! ❤️✨️

ITMF Wei Ying returning from the BM not as a normal human, but changed. Like, maybe he A) becomes a fierce corpse (either sentient/semi/ordinary), B) a ghost/spirit/ghost fire, or C) he is "reborn" or remade there into another form entirely (some horror creature/a demonic animal).

Also peferrably with Wei Ying dying before being thrown into the BM (maybe he is not even thrown there, like in Grief Kindly Stopped by ShanaStoryteller), so the Wens and everyone else are sure he is dead, angst and grief following. Or maybe he disappears like in canon, and later after his return it is found out that he is not alive/fully human anymore.

Thank you everyone! @shellennium

🔒 A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX’s questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding) Wei Ying dies after being thrown into the Burial Mounds but he returns "other."

🔒between the shadow and the soul by Reverie (cl410) (M, 22k, WangXian, SanLi, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family, Dark WWX, Feral WWX, sorta, Memory Loss, Magic, Magical Realism, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective JYL, Grief, BAMF WWX, POV Alternating, Happy Ending) I think between the shadow and the soul also works but Wei Ying doesn't exactly die in this one.

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9. Hello! I wanted to know if there are any fics where Wei Wuxian had enough and snapped at everyone including Lan Wangji @yuukikonnos-world

If you liked it then you should have put a (sect robe) on it by KizuKatana (T, 11k, WangXian, NHS & WWX, WIP, Canon divergent after Cloud Recesses lectures, Public humiliation (not the sexy kind), Sect posturing, Made up lore about magical sect registries and how cultivation competitions work, no golden core transfer, Madam Yu and JFM's A+ Sect Leadership, JFM’s weak leadership put on blast, Madam Yu’s overconfidence and canonical lack of political savvy, NHS knows how to get what he wants, LWJ doesn’t (yet), WWX joins the Nie) Kizu's brand new fic has WWX lose it with LWJ in the first chapter and it's excellent

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10. Hii - first off: obligatory thank you so much for the work you do in this fandom!! (I feel like you get this all the time but also not often enough: so just: thank you thank you thank you!!)

For the next itmf - I was wondering if you all have any specific favorites or have a compilation list of fics along the lines of “character watches the show/reads the book” whatever; not picky on what character watches or is focused on!

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not Rated, 279k, WangXian, CQL Verse, Golden core reveal, Fix-it of sorts, Angst with a happy ending)

💖 Teen Project to Change the World by animeloverhomura (Not rated, 841k, wangxian, watching the series, fix-it of sorts, bamf!wwx, WIP)

The Characters of MDZS Watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by emma_screams (M, 166k, WIP, WangXian, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Drama)

Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Time Travel Fix-it)

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11. For itmf, I'm craving some wangxian who are reuniting after being separated for whatever reason and one of them is shocked to find out the other now has a child and there are big feelings about the whole thing. Ty!

estuaries by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 34k, WangXian, Modern, Breakup/makeup, breakup mostly happens off-screen, Pining while fucking, Single Dad WWX, brief mention of chronic illness, Angst with a Happy Ending)

i guess i’ll have to change my plan by darjeelinh (E, 42k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, First Kiss, First Time, Inspired by Before Sunrise (1995) and Before Sunset (2004), soft rom-com vibes, One Night Stands, but not really, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, they both have demi vibes in this fight me about it, Misunderstandings, Separations, Reunions, WangXian canon Elopement™️ shenanigans, now with art)

plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by fleurdeliser (E, 47k, WangXian, Modern AU, Car Accidents, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Non-Explicit References to Injuries and Death, References to Addiction, Doctors & Physicians, Falling In Love, soft romance, background 3zun, [Podfic of] plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by knight_tracer, [Podfic of] plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by exmanhater)

my dreams are playing softer now by fleurdeliser (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Drunken Shenanigans, First Dates)

❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Single Parent WWX, Homophobia, LQR’s A+ Parenting, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, idiots to lovers, car seats as an expression of love, literal plot bunnies, Fluff, some not-so-light Angst, the inherent eroticism of boning down while receiving free childcare)

Lifelong Confidant by saved (E, 42k, wangxian, modern, Fluff and Angst, Past Character Death, Families of Choice, Explicit Sexual Content, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Oblivious WWX, playing fast and loose with basic real life things, references to past alcoholism/substance abuse, Alcohol)

Unstrictly Ballroom by Ariaste (T, 47k, WangXian, background SongXiao, Modern AU, Everyone’s alive, the gang defeats systemic heteronormativity, Stripper AU, competitive ballroom dance AU, really stupid misunderstandings, Yearning, Mutual Pining, the wrist grab, Erotic Handholding, [Podfic] Unstrictly Ballroom by RevolutionaryJo, Unstrictly Ballroom [Podfic] by esbielle)

Yesterday Once More by Sweetlittlevampire (T, 22k, WangXian, Modern, Reality Show, Long Lost Family AU, Adoption, Family Reunions, Reunions, Lost Love, Getting Back Together, Family Feels, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, [Podfic] Yesterday Once More by shash_reads (sunkitten_shash))

Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, First Time, Getting Together, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Whump, Breeding Kink)

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12. In the mood for a fic where Lan Zhan have Qi deviation or is in serious danger of it. I have read one fic that Lan Zhan nearly qi deviates and it made me interested in this concept (I loved how everyone was so worried and protective of him, even his uncle). I haven't seen any other fics like that so far so I would be grateful for the help.

No-One Else (As Much As You) by sami (M, 6k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Family, Slice of Life, Children, Insecurity, Unexpected Complications Of Reincarnation, Mild qi deviation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort) LWJ has a mild qi deviation in this one, but FYI it is a sequel and may not make much sense without reading the first in the series

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13. Hi, first, thanks for all your amazing work. You have been a source of joy and help with my sanity for years!! I want to know if you could include a request for the next I'm in the Mood for a Fic post. I want fics related to Reality TV. I have read all the ones you have in your Fic Compilations, but I wonder if there is any more!! Specially any fic inspired by Survivor or by The Amazing Race!! Pretty please!! Be well!! Happy New Year!! Hugs!!! @monicaop21

Thank you for the new recs!! I think this are amazing stories!! If there are any more later I'll keep an eye for it ;). Be well!!!

❤️ Knight Hunt! Phoenix Mountain by travelingneuritis (E, 51k, wangxian, modern, dating show, Modern Cultivation, but in the silliest way possible, Reality TV, the juniors are interns, Smut, Illustrations, low-stakes pining)

and from our own/live to ourselves by betweentheheavesofstorm (M, 105k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fantasy, Reality TV, Arctic Survival, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Getting Together, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Bloodletting, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Animal Death, Hunting, Mild Sexual Content)

🔒 will the cultivators Nail It? by AmyNChan (G, 21k, Nailed It AU, Modern, TV Show, Chaotic WWx, Awkward JZX, SS Being an Asshole, Judge LWJ. the Nailed It editors deserve a shoutout, THIS IS FOR YOU GUYS AND YOUR FANTASTIC EDITS, Nichole and Jacques being best friends)

A Right Hook to the Heart by azurewaxwing (G, 3k, NMJ/QS, MXY/NHS, Modern, Reality Show, Punching your future father in law in the face as a metaphor for love)

Soup is Another Word for Love by azurewaxwing (G, 1k, JYL/JZX, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Modern Setting, Reality Show)

The Millionaire Matchmaker (makes a match) by DizziDreams (T, 6k, JC/NHS, Reality Show, Millionaire Matchmaker AU, JC's standards aren't too high, everyone else just needs to be better, #teamBullyJiangCheng, Modern)

Love Is Blind (and also stupid) by DizziDreams (T, 5k, WangXian, Love is Blind AU, Reality Show, Modern, Love is Blind AU, Reality Show, Modern, El Amor Es Ciego (y estúpido) by evirtual3)

🔒 Lan Zhan gives shocking romantic confession on Dirty Laundry season three (not clickbait!!) by dykemania (T, 8k, LXC/JGY, WangXian, LXC & NHS, Modern, Actors, Reality Show, POV LXC, Love Confessions, On Set, Gaunyin Temple scene but reality TV)

floating prison by spicecandy (E, 25k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC/WQ, Reality Show, Yachting, Boats and Ships, Dom/sub Undertones, Blow Jobs, JC& WWX Reconciliation, Chef LWJ, Alcohol, Drunken Flirting, Getting Together, Ensemble Cast, Modern)

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14. Hi, I'm in the mood for a wangxian multiple time loops fic. I've recently been reading a Korean bl called Cloudless Sky (highly recommend, modern with super powers, found family, A+ plot so far about the mc repeating the same tragedy over and over again) and it was so WangXian coded that I know I'm going to be itching to read a similar one after I've finished. I've come across a few in the past but they've never been completed so it'd be great if the recommended fics are also complete :) @gsmileys

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Wearing Down Every Bone by CSHfic, VSfic (E, 30k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Time Loop, Temporary Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Curses, Pining, Getting Together, Time Travel, Night Hunts, Hurt wwx, Mystery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Use Your Words, Mutual Pining, Depression and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, gratuitous use of empathy)

Every Time You Close Your Eyes by brooklinegirl (E, 38k, WangXian, Time Loop, Modern AU, Modern with Cultivation, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, I swear there is a happy ending, but yeah WWX dies a lot, Case Fic)

Rebirth of a Wretched Mayfly by marikazz (M, 15k, WangXian, Time Loop, Time Travel, Groundhog Day, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Not Really Character Death, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Trust Issues, Hurt WWX, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Whump, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Okay, Mental Breakdown, Canon-Typical Violence, Existential Angst, Dissociation, Suicide, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, POV WWX)

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15. This would be for ITMF? I just read That Bitter Draught by nirejseki, it's a Su She central fic but it's so well written (it stays true to his character too) and it actually made me like Su She! I'll love to read similar fics if it exists (praying it does). I don't care too much about the ships, I just want more Su She central fics

Honestly, What Did You Expect by BlueberryLimoncello (T, 27k, WIP, WangXianShe, WangXianOC, waking up as a minor villain, playing fast and loose with the plot, playing even faster with the mechanics of qi, MC is SS, POV SS, POV First Person, potentially making everything worse?, Unreliable Narrator)

💙🔒Su She Eats his Heart Out by KizuKatana (T, 16k, WangXian, 3rd person pov, implied offscreen wangxian sex)

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16. ok so when i was daydreaming as always i come up with some ideas and i thought im sure someone wrote this. A) Wangxian / regression. Wei or Wangji or both will turn back in time where they can fix their past mistakes or regrets before bad things happen. Rewriting of Mo Dao Zu Shi from a regression perspective. ( i don't prefer the untamed fics but I don't care as long as i can find what i want) . I have one more but letter limit prevent me writing so i will make a second of this

B) Second one is more spesific and probably there is no fic like that. This is more like transmigration/isekai where some fan or reader of the mdzs enter the story as a side/mob and try to fix things and also brings couples together. I don't want mc to fall in love with main characters or anything like she must ship wangxian(it is a must) and make them couples. She can have a romance with any other side/mob character.( Like mc transmigrated as madam yu can have romance with jfm and fix her family ) @kaiserokitadesadesougoii

16A)

🔒 if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane (T, 228k, Wangxian, NHS & WWX, WWX & WQ, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family, Burial Mounds, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Morally Ambiguous Character, Rumors, Politics, Developing Friendships, Good Uncle LQR, Demonic Cultivation, YilingWei Sect)

💖 Looking at You Always, All Ways by Keysmashed T, 29k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nostalgia, Subtly Assertive LWJ, WWX Won't Back Down But Blushes Anyway, Very Mild Angst with a Happy Ending)

Family by Quiet_crash (G, 57k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JLY & WWX & JC, LXC & WWX, JYL & LWJ, Time Travel Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Established Relationship)

🔒 We Can See a New Start by preciousbunnynoiz (M, 127k, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, Soulmates, Time Travel Fix-It, Biting, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, but mentally they are adults, Making Out, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Happy Ending, PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Supportive LWJ, Communication, Soul Bond, Blood, Found Family, Parent-Child Relationship, aromantic JC, Lesbian WQ, Queerplatonic Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Disassociate episodes, disassociating, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Depression, Delusions, Mental Health Issues, Mental Breakdown, Attempted Sexual Assault, Therapy, Supportive JC, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Torture, Revenge, Self-Sacrifice, Accidental Bonding, Brotherly Bonding)

this is our vow by orro (E, 142k, WangXian, WIP, Major Character Death, Time Travel Fix-It, Butterfly Effect, For Want of a Nail, Character Death, Sunshot Campaign, Child Death, War Crimes, Time Travelling WWX, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet)

16B)

i told you when i came i was a stranger by Caramelized (M, 50k, OFC/LXC, minor WangXian, Isekai, Transmigration, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Amateur cartography, Butterfly Effect, Sunshot Campaign, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, No Golden Core Transfer, Dimension Travel, Politics, LXC the politician, Self-Insert, Foreknowledge, Angst with a Happy Ending)

The Tamed by Escheria (T, 481k, WangXian, WIP, LWJ/XZ, WYB/WWX, YiZhan, YLLZ WWX, The Untamed (TV) References, Overpowered WWX, XZ is WWX, Canon Divergence, Transmigration, Isekai, Demonic Cultivation, Genius WWX, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soulmates, Reincarnation)

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17. itmfff

fcis with the "don't touch my wife!" trope in arranged marriage or otherwise plsplsplspls

thank u sm! @bunnycoffeeumcat

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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therobinswayne · 18 days ago

Text

marauders variants

im doing this again because ive become increasingly obsessed w how all of us can easilly have entirely different ideas of these charachters bc of the nature of the marauders fandom. so here's some variants and why i think they're similar!

james potter

ferris bueller (ferris bueller's day off) - cocky, larger than life, popular and beloved by younger kids at the school, thinks he can get away with anything, manages to be charming through all this

peter parker (the amazing spider man) - goofy, willing to fight for what's right, has a sunny vibe despite anything negative going on

anthony bridgerton (bridgerton) - protective of his family, charasmatic, kind of a playboy but also an intense loveryboy at the same time

sirius black

rachel green (friends) - kind of spoiled but wants to grwo, self-absorbed and confident in himself, loyal friend who loves his people

jamie tartt (ted lasso) - egotistical, emotionally stunted, but at the core of all that kind of emotionally stunted and hopeful to learn

daring charming (ever after high) - bit of a shithead, flirts with anything that moves, doesn't realize that he's kind of a dick to his younger sibling

remus lupin

chandler bing (friends) - uses humor as a self-defence, self depricating, charismatic

steve rogers (captain america: the first avenger) - brave and loyal to the point of self-sacrafice, generally really nice but has a wicked temper you'd never guess

stanley uris (it) - considered the smart one of a rowdy friend group, actually just as bad as the rest of them

peter pettigrew

penelope featherington (bridgerton) - unassuming and sweet, but actually has a crazy pen and will rip you to shreds if he wants to

mike hanlon (it) - sweetheart, committed to his ideals, will do anything to keep things good

nate shelley (ted lasso) - feels a bit underappreciated on a whole, wicked quick, strategic mastermind

lily evans

lucy gray baird (the hunger games: a ballad of songbirds and snakes) - sweet and kind to all, but has a firey side if you cross her, can't win her trust back once you've lost it

hazel levesque (heroes of olympus) - lovely, small in stature, absolutely could kill you but choses kindness

amelia pond (doctor who) - adventurous, hardheaded, won't be told what to do

marlene mckinnon

robin buckley (stranger things) - chaotic lesbian, motormouth, band kid

darcy olsson (heartstopper) - overcomensates for her insecurities with humor, refuses to be talked down to or made small

karen karen (daisy jones and the six) - badass rocker, stubborn, won't change herself for anyone

mary macdonald

cher horowitz (clueless) - well-meaning, a little ditzy but she's got the spirit, wants to help people in any way she can

britta perry (community) - stubborn when she believes she's right, knows her worth, sure of herself

elle woods (legally blonde) - kind-hearted, believes in herself completely, even if she's ditzy in a common sense way, she's got crazy knowledge of hyper-specific things

alice fortescue

robin scherbatsky (how i met your mother) - badass, cool as hell, "cool girl", raised by just her dad and knows how to fight

kat stratford (10 things i hate about you) - angry girl, hates all men except her dad and her boy, extremely judgy music snob

eloise bridgerton (bridgerton) - funny as hell, will not tolerate you if she doesn't like you, incredibly nosy about everyones business

dorcas meadowes

nancy wheeler (stranger things) - preppy, has a badass side that comes out when her people are in danger, vary much a "good girl"

rory gilmore (gilmore girls) - academic weapon, big pop culture girlie, needs coffee to survive, accidentally toxic in her relationships

tara lewis (heartstopper) - big ball of anxiety, overachiever, but proud of herself and has a big heart

pandora lestrange

pheobe buffay (friends) - funky, kind of a hippie, seen as weird, has strong moral principles, makes her own jewelery

daisy jones (daisy jones and the six) - unpredicatble, wild, flower power lover, has an indescribable but extremely lovable quality to her that makes her an it girl even tho shes weird

rachel dare (percy jackson and the olympians) - has seer powers, artist, constantly has paint on her clothes

emmeline vance

eponine thenardier (les miserables) - bitchy as a defence mechanism, eldest daughter complex like it's her goddamn job, secretly a lovergirl but she'll never tell

annabeth chase (percy jasonson and the olympians) - competitive, needs to prove herseld, can NOT turn down a challenge, architecture nerd

monica gellar (friends) - absolutely will break down if she doesn't win literally everything, compulsive need to keep things clean, will absolutely beat a bitch up if she's angry, insecure

regulus black

christina yang (grey's anatomy) - fiercely ambitious, will not be swayed, dark and twisty, crazy competitive, knows he's better than all these bitches around him

paris gellar (gilmore girls) - hot headed, loyal friend even if his friendship is hard to earn, has no problem with quick and calculated revenge

michelle jones (mcu spidern-man) - quiet, pessimist but is more of a disappointed optimist that doesn't want to be disappointed again, always spectating those around and keeping stock of everything he sees

evan rosier

jason mendoza (the good place) - sweet, excitable, kind of dumb but extremely lovable

joey tribbiani (friends) - playboy, very comfortable in his sexuality, goofball

peeta mellark (the hunger games) - resourceful, very sweet with a protective streak, kinf of a skill money

barty crouch jr

dennis reynolds (it's always sunny in philadelpha) - categorically a bad person but knows it and doesn't care, kind of a sociopath

jeff winger (community) - liar all the time, well-aticulate and uses it to his advantage, total fuck boy, would fuck any of his friends if they were down

peter maximoff (x-men movies) - kleptomaniac, can't sit still for the life of him, a little bitchy

frank longbottom

chidi anegonye (the good bplace) - anxious, bookish, constantly worried about eveything, doesn't want to hurt anyone ever

grover underwood (percy jackson and the olympians) - friendly, loyal to a fault, environmentally concious king

ben hanscom (it) - has a terminal case of loverboy syndrome, sweetheart, architecture nerd

benjy fenwick

andy dwyer (parks and recreation) - childish, goofball, well-meaning and lovable, kind of an ass sometimes

nick nelson (heartstopper) - protective, sunshiney, that friend that feels like he can't share his problems despite being there for everyone else's problems

jake peralta (brooklyn nine-nine) - always joking, like to the point that he can't take shit seriously, but is also the most supportive friend, investigative as hell, can put things together quick

xenopehlius lovegood

luna lovegood (harry potter) - this is kind of a copout ik but i really feels like luna and xeno are so similar, spacey, kind fo an outsider, oddball, believes weird thigns no one else has heard of

alice (alice in wonderland) - gullible, easy to convince of anything, loves exploring, hard to get to focus

enjolras (les miserables) - fierce believer, gets offended when other people don't believe what he does

aurora sinistra

ayda aueegfort (fantasy high) - autistic as hell, academic for teh sake of academia, desperate to learn

patricia johnson (nerdy prudes must die) - not tactille, has a hard time talking about her emotions

adaine abernant (fantasy high) - will defend her friends until literal death, fuck you

charity burbage

eleven hopper (stranger things) - sweet, well-meaninf, staunchly lawful neutral, will stick to her rules to the end of time but its so hard to figure out what her rules even are

rapunzel (tangled) - natural explorer, constantly wandering, loves nature and art, constantly learning new hobbies

katniss everdeen (the hunger games) - will never change her first assumption unless she absolutely has to, very quick to distrust you if you even kind of slight one of her friends

sybil trelawney

riz gukgak (fantasy high) - insomniac, NEEDS to know what's going on, nosy investiagtor

abed nadir (community) - can slip into different masks really well but generally doesn't because she's pretty comfortable with herself

sherlock holmes (sherlock bbc) - always investigating, terrible with social cues, people HATE her ass for knowing so much about them

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raccoonfallsharder · 8 months ago

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feel like this is a given but ur not into rocket because he’s a raccoon right? like more in spite of it? /genuine question

his character is rlly fun so like i get it i have just had bad experiences with bestiality on tumblr lolololol

i feel like i just made the same activation-noise my cat makes when i wake him up. sweetheart you must be new here. i hope you already had an idea of how famously longwinded i am before you asked

so. i get this question a lot but your ask is like, the polite version lol, so i’ll actually answer. i’m not sure what bad experiences you’ve had on tumblr but i’m really sorry you went through that. any experience where you’re exposed to something you don’t want to be exposed to can be traumatizing and exhausting, and if anyone was trying to push your boundaries with those things, that’s not okay. i’m honestly grateful you felt like you could ask this question in this space.

anyway let me start by saying i personally support the harkness test for monster (or fictional character) fucking.

personally, i am not into rocket “because” he’s a raccoon. (and is he? is he really? he does not remind me of the raccoons who my mom tells me about during our weekly phone call, who keep trying to kill her chickens and move into her garage. though frankly, i still root for the raccoons). the only thing truly raccoonlike about rocket is his body, and even that is questionable (have you seen that shoulder-to-waist ratio? that is not a chubby lil raccoon). sure he's got the stripey tail and the black mask and the twitchy lil ears and ruby-red eyeshine, but beyond that, he has been altered not just down to his brains and his bones, but to his genes. when rocket says there's no thing like him except him, he's... absolutely being truthful.

god, i honestly have so much to say about what raccoon means in the context of gotg but like. you're not here for that. maybe it'll be a separate longwinded post you can read if you want.

all this to say that personally, i am not generally attracted to raccoons. though i guess if we ever find one that is self-aware enough to evaluate their own emotionalistic intelligence (and considers it lacking), can speak a clear human language and sings like bradley cooper, regularly walks upright and has opposable thumbs, has an incredibly sarcastic sense of humor, is a tech-genius, is an incredible (though not infallible) single dad, has a complicated relationship with the thought of his own death, and regularly saves the galaxy, i may have to see if my opinion changes

but that kinda seems like a tomorrow-problem

tbh bodies have never been that important to me in terms of attraction. so yeah. i like rocket (and i find him attractive) because i see him as a character of such rich empathy that the only way he knows how to protect himself is to try and turn his empathy off. i like him because he fails at turning off his empathy, pretty much every fuckin time.

i like him because he knows what pain and loss are, and because he blames himself for things so obviously outside of his locus of control (me too, buddy, me too).

i like how he loves people, so deeply he carries them in his bones and never gives up their memories — not just batch 89, either, but also all the guardians who had been snapped into ash. he holds onto them so hard that he brings them back from the dead.

frankly i also like that he's acab and a leftist. (don't tell me this motherfucker escaped from twenty-three prisons and thinks defunding the cops is enough. he doesn't.)

i like how scrappy he is, and how devoted he is, and how sarcastic he is, and what a good dad he is, and i love how he is constantly underestimated by literally everyone (but by himself most of all).

and when i get to write him a little snuggle time — platonically or, erm, less platonically — it heals something for me, and hopefully maybe for a reader or two. like, yeah, okay, you're scared and lonely and hurting and sometimes you say mean things that you regret and sometimes you don't like yourself very much. sometimes you don't feel like you belong in your own body, and sometimes you feel purposeless and worthless and low, and sometimes you feel guilty just for breathing. but hey, you still deserve to feel like you can offer your kindness, and your warmth, and your connection, and your community, and your love.

and you deserve to let yourself receive those things too.

and you do.

anyway if this wasn't enough justification for why i'm into this raccoon here's another tirade abut how relatable and awesome he is

#rfh asks #nonnie #harkness test

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eclipsethemagic · 1 year ago

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Summary: Y/N get to know a little bit more about the kim brothers, some good and some bad, but seokjin just can't figure out why he can't get you out of his head.

Paring: Kim Seokjin x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Drama, Humor

Warning: none unless you want to count talking about death.

☆Playlist ☆Masterlist ☆ Prev ☆Next

Y/n lets out a small smile when Namjoon and Seokjin leave the bookstore. Y/n lets out a big sigh takes her tan apron off and hangs it up. She walks over to the door flips over the open sign and does it, locking the door y/n goes upstairs and into her own home. Smelling like warm cookies y/n sits down on her couch and lays her head down. Namjoon was very funny and sweet to the mute girl. Even though she couldn't hear so could always tell that he could flirt with her by the way he touched her, his brother was the same way but a lot different.

The way y/n could see it she knew the two brothers were related, she also knew the two brothers had something different about them. What Namjoon had told her, his mother died in a fire so the only one who could take care of them was their dad. What Namjoon also told her was that they had a younger sister but she was no longer here in the world. Y/n did let out a few tears when she saw Namjoon let out his heart when he talked about his family.

The next morning was a lot harder than Seokjin would have liked. First, Namjoon had a hangover which didn't make sense to his brother but he later found out that Namjoon was drinking with Jackson. Jackson Wang was Namjoon's best friend and a famous rapper, he was in a group called Got7 in Korea. With a roll of his eyes, Seokjin walks out of the house with his hands in his coat. The cold air hit him bitterly making him shiver. Seokjin gets in the car and turns on the hot air, driving down the street Seokjin's phone rings. Looking at the caller ID he answers it but soon regrets it when he hears a very happy voice.

"Jinnie hyung! What are you doing!?" Jung Hoseok yells happily through the phone. Seokjin smiles and then laughs when he hears his second best friend tell him to shut up.

"I'm not doing anything Hobi, why are so energized this morning? It's 9:30." Jin answers.

"Um, not sure? Just am, hey how did the bookstore thing go?" Hoseok asks and Jin turns a corner and shrugs before answering.

"At first I didn't want to go but.. the lady there she's.. um." Seokjin blushes, and he blushes brightly making Hobi yell in happiness.

"You have a crush hyung!? What's her name? Is she pretty!?" He asks and Jin shrugs again and then turns another corner.

"It's just.. she is but I'm not ready to start another relationship.. not after my last one," Jin answers slowly and parks his car at a cafe.

"But hyung.. that was high school you are 23 give it a chance huh?" Hobi answers truly and Jin sighs.

"Maybe alright? I gonna go." With that, he hangs up the phone and gets out of the car.

#bts #bts fanfction #oneshots #kpop #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #namjoon #chapter 2 #yoongi #taehyung #bts jimin #hoseok #jungkook

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jeonjxjynx · 9 months ago

Text

hello! nice to meet you all! i'm j and i'm here to bring you jeon jisoo aks jynx. ! a 24 year old new-ish starlet who's trying her hand at this industry again and slightly re-worked muse

below! you'll find more about jisoo and as well as some rough plot ideas!

her mother and father divorced when she was 10 years old, her mother is an actress and her father is a korean-american music producer. they met bc he moved to korea to work on an upcoming group

she lived in gwangju until she was 5 but often visits her grandparents, her satoori has stayed due to this and she's proud of it.

her parents did one of those baby tv shows so she was in the public eye at a young age.

from age 9 - 12 in a few popular drama's. mainly at the pushing off her parents. so when the divorce came, it was messy (mainly on her dad's side) and very public. finally, the cord was cut and her father went back to america. they've only talked on the phone a few times, he sends money and gifts but they don't have a relationship.

her mom threw herself into work and was barely around, deeming sienna old enough to fend for herself.

her mom never really wanted kids so jisoo was able to be a wild child for a bit (still is sorta)

she faded from the spotlight and developed her interest more, jisoo always liked attention so becoming an idol was her new goal. in trying out her skills, she was a good performer and leaned well into rap and dance but she doesn't consider herself a horrible vocalist.

she was 15 when she joined the company, after calming down her ways a bit

she joined a company and there were red flags but her debut came fast! due to lack of funds, they had to build the group themselves really and the company banked on her former fame. her training period had only been six months

honestly, the group didn't do horrible but there were long breaks between comebacks and then it came out the company was a front for money laundering.

they disbanded when she was 17, so a good two year run

wild child bloomed then, more partying, drinking and smoking. at one point she had dreams but now she was aimless, doing what she could to get attention with no goals.

this was channeled into making her own music but it's not something she shared, she still enjoyed busking and dancing and hanging out in the 'underground' scene but it amounted to nothing

the adults around her didn't care and those that would, jisoo was good at putting up a front

she's an out-going girl, maybe a little desperate to be liked at times. she doesn't manage her anger well in that it she bottles it up until it explodes on the right or wrong perso

she was 19 when she finally moved to japan to be with her father and his new family and it just did not go well at all, jisoo didn't change, she was burden to him and by the time she was 21, she was back in seoul

she re-connected with a past friend and/or her cousin and joined as a trainee

she's happy to debut but doesn't really like the concept but who can be picky right?

i have plans in the future for an attitude scandal / past bullying thing

not that she was a bully but she would give as good as she got and even more. revenge doesn't need to be served cold as long as it's served.

she's good to those she likes and vile to those she hates.

a girl who teeters the edge and could easily slip into 'mean' girl mode

her sense of humor is a little dark, morbid

a soft grunge girl who loves one piece and the sims, horror moves, thrillers but can also wallow in self-induce misery if you catch her on the right day.

is very worried about her age and debuting as an older idol and the years wasted

ideas

she speaks perfect english & korean and isn't bad a japanese so if someone needs help in either

muses who act? i don't think it's her arc maybe but she doesn't mind helping people read lines

someone who's fans of her parents

someone who's seen her act in dramas and wonder if it's the same little girl or who someone who does know & realizes it's her

she's rich and she doesn't mind showing it so muses who either vibe with that or don't? resentment over shopping trips maybe? or someone who's irked because she chooses expensive places and offers to pay and they think it's pity?

someone she's had beef with in high school?

someone she stood up for in high school?

pls give me this idea. someone (or friend) fucked with her in high school and in response, she stole their man. she's never been sorry.

rivals

one great love, would've been when she was 18-19 and dated for a year, they broke up with her. could've been a player or even jisso was too intense as a girl friend (extreme opposite of her parents loveless marriage) and they couldn't take it

a boy who was a player, played with her and then broke up with her by dating someone new...they meet again and he doesn't realize it's her

or both

i could also see her being cold in a relationship and that being a killer one as well

a boy she ghosted and some other small quick relationships that ended

muses that she partied with

a good bestie and a good circle of friends

a best friend who got her back into wanting to train

her cousin, her aunt did try to step in and sometimes jisoo would do well but ya'll went to school together and she easily slipped into mean girl mode in return for status, leaving your muse in the cold! do they reconnect or is it forever broken?

if you've seen something you like, let me know or like this post! can't wait to plot with you all!

#infinite:intro

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bonesandthebees · 1 year ago

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[“You also don’t have to worry about that sort of thing too much given your status.” / “But you do?” Tomys asked, raising an eyebrow. / Fighting to keep his face neutral, Wilbur shrugged.] despite his childishness, there’s still potential in Tomys. He reads between the lines perfectly here. And Wilbur is trying so hard to pretend that it’s not a big deal rather than his biggest fear in life.

[Legally, I hold no title. So yes, I do have to be more careful with the impression I leave on others.”] Every chapter there is at least one line that makes me feel so bad for Wilbur (there’s a lot in general, but a few jump out), this is one of them. It describes him perfectly, always aware of what others need to think of him. Always keeping his cards close to his chest.

And Tomys picks up that it must be stressful but then does the exact opposite and just speaks his mind and calls it prissy in the same breath, which pisses Wilbur off, because he’s so close to getting it yet he’s not taking it seriously. (Also I love rose!Wilbur having and subsequently losing his/a temper.)

And the jab about Tomys height again shows the potential for a good relationship. They could have that joking relationship Tomys wants at some point, he’s just jumping the gun a bit and missing several layers of context to get Why Wilbur will not be that friends or informal with him (yet). (It’s Ranboo’s presence and the knowledge that this can and will get back to his father and Phil might be anger about it.)

It’s also interesting to see Wilbur bounce between formal and etiquette and his actual feelings or losing his temper around Tomys, it’s like he can’t quite stop his true nature form shining through, in a way Tomys brings out the childishness Wilbur never really got to have, but then he can’t fully sink into it because he still has a goal/mission to achieve and even when no one else is there, other people’s expectations of him are still holding him back form every full relaxing.

Side note: all the servants dipping their heads at Wilbur as he walks past, clearly aware of his status and giving him the respect while Wilbur himself barely notices because he’s too caught up in his own head, you could summarise his entire chapter with this once interaction + maybe the following one with Phil (though the first interaction in chapter 1 also says a LOT).

[Like the night before, the guard barely spared him a second glance before letting him inside.] This could be taken 2 ways. 1. What’s actually happing, aka the guards can all easily recognise Wilbur and let him in without second thought because he’s the Consuls son and of course he’s allowed inside. 2. Aka how Wilbur might take it, they barely look at him and he’s barely worth their attention.

(4/?)

-🎄

exactly there IS potential there!! even though tommy doesn't understand what's going on, he does read between the lines. being kept ignorant of the reality of your situation doesn't make you an idiot, it just means you need someone to tell you what's going on.

:) wilbur always has to be the one holding the cards because without them the only thing giving him power is his father's position

I love rose!wilbur because he tries so hard to be as smart and controlled as his father is but he's a petty little shit with an easy to stoke temper. little does he know his dad used to be the same way when he was wilbur's age. had to get it from somewhere after all.

yeah again they could definitely have a great friendship. the two of them are very similar in a lot of ways. but there's a lot of context that's keeping wilbur from letting himself get too familiar with tommy and playing into his sense of humor. the problem is, like you said, being around tommy brings out the childishness wilbur never got to fully embrace when he was tommy's age. ironically, if he did give into that childish urge to insult tommy, it would probably make tommy like him more.

god yeah he's so caught up in his own head and doesn't even realize that, yeah dumbass, the servants and guards DO know who you are and respect you

#ask #spruce anon #rose ch 2

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sincerelyjxyy · 2 years ago

Text

Gold Rush - Eight

Invisible String - Gold Rush

Chapter Eight - Palms Pressed Together

Song Of The Chapter - Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus

✧ friendship is the most underrated relationship in our lives. it remains the one relation not bound by law, blood, or money - but an unspoken agreement of love. — hanya yanagihara, relying on friendship in a world made for couples ✧

Summary: The pogues have to deal with the consequences of getting themselves involved with supposed square groupers. But what happens when John B's theory about is dad is proven to be true, and Big John sends them on an adventure unlike any other?

Word Count - 11.1k

Gold Rush Masterlist

AFTER BEING NEARLY KILLED BY THE COMPASS HUNTERS, THE POGUES CRAMMED INTO THE TWINKE AND LEFT THE CHATEAU. John B had urged their departure as soon as he was certain the men wouldn't be returning. It was obvious that a plethora of ideas were running through his head, as he tried to make sense why his dad would engrave Redfield into a compass.

Josie, however, was more focused on recovering from their near-death experience. As the group made their way to wherever-the-hell John B had concocted and offered their own theories on the compass, she kept relatively silent.

She sat sideways on the back bench, next to Pope and across from JJ, knees pulled up as she jotted her thoughts down in her journal. Taylor played lightly on the radio, courtesy of the duo up front. Josie knew Kie had fought for it for her sake, and John B abnormally relented without argument.

As if it wasn't bad enough she'd lost her most prized possession, but she also had to deal with conflicting feelings about her boyfriend's absent-minded confession of love. Then, she had to witness a woman get beaten by a couple of scary men. And��then, those same men threatened her and her friends' lives for the second time within twenty-four hours.

They also caused the death of her favorite rooster. So, Josie felt more than entitled to a moment of mental solitude in the backseat.

"I mean, it's obvious, right?" John B inquired. "A family heirloom. I mean, what better place to hide a message? He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?"

The brunette sounded sure of himself as he rattled his thoughts off to his friends. Josie couldn't help but feel a bit bad. Everyone dealt with grief in their own way, and John B had always been skeptical about admitting that Big John had really died at sea.

How far would her friend's subconscious push him to deal with his grief that way?

"Yeah. It's possible," Kie agreed from the passenger seat. However, she sounded like she was trying to reassure John B more than she actually believed his father was trying to contact him.

"It could also be possible that you're concocting wild theories to help, y'know, deal with your sad feels," Pope added for argument's sake as he fiddled with the compass.

John B shook his head and sternly used the boy's name to voice his disagreement. Kie glanced back at Pope and shook her head to scold him.

He shrunk back in surrender, making Josie humorously scoff and eye the eldest pogue in amusement. "Did you really just say feels unironically?"

"Bro, y'know how I process my sad feels. Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies, that's how I do it," JJ stated as he shrugged.

Josie groaned in disgust and scrunched her face at him, shaking her head to silently demand he never say something like that again. His honesty was not appreciated.

"I'm not concocting, okay?" Denial and insistence bled through John B's voice as he spoke up. "My dad's trying to give me a message." He turned his eyes to scan them all with confidence, but everyone remained firm with their own doubts.

Josie's lips pursed sympathetically as she turned her gaze to the back of his head. The revelation of his father's survival would mean the world to him—she knew that.

"If it helps you believe, John B," Kie started softly, but John B frustratedly interrupted her.

"Look, I-I don't need a therapy session, okay? Look, I'm not trippin' out."

"It's okay to trip, bro-" JJ added, causing John B to turn and assertively cut him off.

"Look, my dad is missing, okay?" He turned back around. "Missing. You don't know what it's like to have the closest person to you vanish, and then have no idea what happened. Just wake up every morning, wondering."

Josie thought about JJ just vanishing out of thin air. Never hearing from him again, and no one having any real answers. She thought about never hearing his laugh again, never seeing his bright blue eyes and laughing at his stupid attempts at jokes. Her heart broke at the mere thought.

Her best friend, gone forever.

"It's been almost a year," Kiara reminded softly as she stared at John B.

It was wild, the amount of time that had passed. Nine months ago, life had been completely different. Josie and Kie weren't even around to comfort their friend when his dad disappeared.

The reminder caused guilt to slowly build its home in Josie's chest, and she had to physically shake the feeling away before it became too much.

"Hey, he could've been kidnapped," JJ offered. "That's definitely a possibility." He looked over at Josie for her support, and, despite being unsure, she shrugged and hummed in agreement. She wanted to believe that Big John was alive and trying to reach out to his son for help, but it felt so far-fetched that she felt silly for holding onto hope.

"Yeah, could be in a Soviet sub getting interrogated by the KGB somewhere. Or in a European lab getting tortured," Pope added. Narrowing her eyes at him, Josie set her journal on her bent thigh to reach out and smack the back of his head. His backwards cap fell forward onto his face, satisfying Josie.

"Absolutely. Uh...or Atlantis." JJ nodded toward Josie. "Or Libertalia. Probably found all that gold that Avery dude hid."

It was doubtful that Big John had been able to locate the lost colony. There was so much more research and digging that needed to be done to even get close to the treasure. And Josie was confident that she knew things about the treasure that only a couple of people alive knew. None of those people included John B's father.

Avery's treasure was a legend for a reason.

"JJ," Kie reproached, glancing at him weirdly before turning back to John B. "Look, what do you think the message is?"

"Redfield," John B answered easily. As he did, they passed a sign that displayed the exact name he'd mentioned. "Redfield Lighthouse. That's my dad's favorite place."

"Did you just say lighthouse?" Josie questioned cautiously as she looked up from stuffing her journal into her backpack. Kiara winced, staring back at her best friend in pity.

It wasn't lost on any of them that the last thing Josie would want to do after witnessing abuse, watching her favorite rooster die, and almost dying herself, was climb to the top of a tall structure. In fact, Josie could think of almost nothing worse. It was dreadful. Horrific.

She gave out a simple huff and harshly zipped up her bag, glaring daggers into the back of John B's head. JJ tried to make her smile by poking the skin of her thigh, but she bushed him off and crossed her arms.

Shortly after, the Twinkie came to a halt in front of the fence that surrounded the lighthouse. All five of them clambered out of the van, and Josie's eyes drifted upward to follow the height of the building.

She had to stop herself from throwing up at the mere sight. The thought of her and her friends climbing up it had already made her feel dizzy.

"Right, here's what's gonna happen." John B turned to address both JJ and Josie. "You're both gonna post up and look out for bogeys, okay?"

"Wait...why me?" JJ asked as he pointed to himself.

"Because you're not coming," Pope answered obviously. Josie glanced at him, unimpressed, but remained silent as the boys conversed.

"Why?"

"Look, JJ, there are independent and there are dependent variables. And you're an independent variable. We don't know what you're gonna do!" JJ frustratedly argued with Pope as he spoke, yelling at him to shut up.

The girls watched on, impatient with the boys' inability to do anything without fussing about it. Josie was sure they were going to start calling each other names, when John B interrupted the argument.

"Just listen to me for a second, just listen. Jose isn't going up, so JJ, you're staying down. Pope, you stand lookout with them. Okay? If we get split up, we meet back at JJ's house."

"Great," Kie agreed. She turned to squeeze Josie's shoulder in parting.

Josie returned the gesture to her arm, glancing back up at the circular building. "Love you. Please be careful."

Kiara sent her a reassuring smile and nodded, before turning to hop over the fence. John B stared at JJ as the blond continued to defiantly look at him. Josie groaned and grabbed his shoulder, tugging him backward by his shirt.

"You're lucky this one's my favorite." JJ shook his head and threw his thumb over his shoulder toward Josie, glaring at John B with no real malice. John B dismissively waved his hand and parted to follow Kie.

Josie chuckled at the small pouty attitude JJ sported as their friends left. She mockingly pouted her bottom lip out at him and let out a teasing hmph, laughing when he shoved her shoulder. She reached a hand up to ruffle the hair atop his head, which led to a smacking contest between them.

"I'm gonna work on my merit scholarship essay, and I'm trying to keep felonies down to a minimum."

Josie snapped and pointed her finger at Pope in agreement. The brainy duo shared a smile, before her attention was drawn to amusedly watch as JJ began to play keepy-uppy with a pinecone.

"Alright, would you just shut up already?"

Josie rolled her eyes. "Oh c'mon, Sunny. You'd really rather be up there climbing all those stairs than down here keeping lookout with me?"

JJ shook his head, and he looked up at her as if she'd just said the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. "No. I think you and me should go up there and make the others keep lookout."

Josie laughed, her eyes following the path of the pinecone as he kicked it back and forth between his feet. "First off, this is literally John B's thing, so we wouldn't go up there without him. Second, there's no way I'd ever climb up that thing. Not even with you."

He stopped to offendedly stare at her, and he let out a huff when she raised her brows at him. He knew he couldn't argue the point further, so he resigned to doing his keep-uppies.

He mumbled something under his breath about Josie going up there if it was Max, and she ran her tongue over her lips in annoyance. She really wanted to work on the pogues' relationships with Max. It was clear which one would be the hardest to establish if JJ stuck to his stubborn dislike of her boyfriend.

Which really sucked, because he was the person she was closest to.

Without warning, he kicked the pinecone in the air toward her. She struggled as she lifted her leg and tried to catch it like she'd seen him do. It was an absolute fail, as she stumbled on one foot and missed the object.

JJ laughed and observed Josie as she tried to balance, before she completely fell and just barely caught herself. She narrowed her eyes up at him in a failed attempt to scold him. She blew out a breath as she stood and dusted herself off, while he grabbed another pinecone from the ground.

"D'you want me to teach you?" He chuckled through his question.

Josie went to agree, when the bag on her back started ringing. She held up her pointer finger and brought her bag around to dig in it and find her phone.

When she caught sight of the caller ID, she winced and sheepishly glanced up at her companion.

He scoffed, already aware of the meaning behind her expression, and tilted his head down to break their eye contact. In an effort to appear nonchalant, he focused on kicking the pinecone up and ignored her as she hesitantly turned away.

A part of her urged to let it ring through, just so that she could avoid the frown set on JJ's features. But the incessant bussing in her palm reminded her that doing so wouldn't be fair to herself or Max. JJ's hatred of kooks couldn't affect her relationship.

So, with a sigh and one last glance at her friends, she made her way around a tree before she answered. "Hello?"

"Well, hello, beautiful. For a second there, I thought you weren't gonna answer." Max's greeting was full of enthusiasm and fondness. It was as if he hadn't completely ditched her that morning after dropping the L bomb out of nowhere.

She briefly wondered if he'd even remembered that he'd done it.

"Oh, hey, baby. How was golf?" Josie tried her best to sound as polite as possible.

She completely missed the offended scoff JJ shot in Pope's direction. Pope shrugged, narrowing his eyes at the blond to inquire why it bothered him so much. "Dude, it's her boyfriend. Of course they're gonna say gross crap like that."

JJ shook Pope's statement off his shoulders, straining to listen in on his best friend's conversation.

"It was good; thank you. The boys and I went to Rafe's afterwards, just to catch up and stuff." Max let out a small chuckle as he reminisced on whatever must've happened at the Cameron house.

Josie went to ask about it, but refrained when she realized that she'd probably get annoyed at whatever he told her. She simply hummed and nodded even though he couldn't see her, throwing a few glances back over her shoulder to make sure the boys were dying or fighting.

"You know..." She could make out the teasing lilt of her boyfriend's tone. "Rafe couldn't help but ask about you a couple times today. I think he might have a crush on you." He tsked and grinned at the uninterested scoff that left Josie's lips. She crossed her left arm over her chest in defense.

It wasn't a secret to Max that Rafe and Josie had history, if one could even call it that. Rafe had been her first kiss when she was eleven and played a dumb game of seven minutes in heaven. That mistake had followed her to every corner of the island ever since, mainly in the form of said boy being an absolute jackass to try and gain her attention.

But one thing was very clear: Josie had never been interested in the Cameron boy.

"Trust me, he doesn't. No one buys into the whole 'kook versus pogue' thing more than him, except maybe Topper." Josie scrunched her face at the mention of her antithesis.

"Yeah, but you're a kook," Max pointed out with a humored sing-song. Josie scoffed but didn't refute him, because he was technically right. "But that's beside the point. You got any plans for the rest of the day?"

Josie felt a tinge of bitterness and irritation grow at his question. The audacity he had to have to ditch his girlfriend during a date, and then call her hours later and ask to hang out.

Yes, they were in a relationship, but why did he make it seem like she was disposable to him? Her plans didn't revolve around when he was free and when he felt like being together.

"I do, actually, yeah." Josie sighed and leaned against the tree. "I ended up calling Kie this morning to come and get me. And since I assumed you'd be with your friends the rest of the day, I told her I'd spend the day with her."

As a car door shut on the other line, a sarcastic laugh came from behind her. She glared back at JJ, suddenly aware that he was eavesdropping on her conversation. Pushing off from the tree, she walked further away and shot a middle finger back behind her.

"No, I get it; it's okay." The lack of argument on his end was appreciated by Josie, who was too tired to engage in a lovers-spat.

For the next few minutes, Max went on a rant about his golf round and how he'd absolutely demolished Topper and Kelce. Josie tried to pay attention; she truly did. But she couldn't help the uninterested hums that escaped her as he told her all about how he'd practically perfected his back swing.

It was when Max had finished boasting that he finally took a breath. He contently sigh as Josie picked at the skin of her middle finger with her thumb. She peeked behind her and smiled when she realized that Pope had joined JJ's pinecone game; only now they tossed it for JJ to catch in his shirt pocket.

"Well, I don't want to take up any more of your time; Kiara probably wants to kill me already. Just call me later, and we'll figure something out." She could hear the soft smile behind his voice and stopped herself from outwardly cooing.

"Will do. Talk to you later."

Once the couple bid their goodbyes, Josie stuffed her phone into her back pocket. She turned to trek back to the boys, who both unsuccessfully tried to act like they hadn't been intently listening in on her long conversation.

She rolled her eyes and crossed both arms over her chest. "Y'know, usually when someone walks away, that means that they want the conversation to be private, not public for nosy best friends to listen in on."

She raised her brows at Pope, who actively avoided her fierce gaze. Her eyes narrowed at the lack of a sarcastic comment from him, and her gaze turned curious as it swung between a tense JJ and an awkward Pope.

"What'd you mean when you said you ended up calling Kie?" JJ accused, lips pressed together as he bitterly stared at the pinecone he continued to kick between his feet. Josie shrugged and scuffed her shoe on the ground. It was annoying that he'd somehow turned the conversation into an opportunity to question her.

"Did you guys hang out? Is that why you were dressed so pretty this mornin'?"

The acidic tone of his voice caused Josie to glare at him. Her irritation passed from her boyfriend to her blond best friend, and she completely avoided the petty compliment he'd paid her.

She opened her mouth to spit out a remark but decided against it.

The last thing she wanted to do was admit to both boys that Max had ditched her. Because deny it as much as she might, it was embarrassing and wounding to her pride that her boyfriend could so easily do something like that.

Besides, she didn't feel like hearing the lecture concerning her choice of partner that JJ would no doubt give her.

He glanced up at her expectantly, but she only continued to stare back with her arms crossed. JJ opened his mouth to make another jest at her boyfriend, but he was stopped by the sound of sirens that blared from behind them.

Through the trees, the flashing red and blue lights slowly became easier to make out as they got closer.

"Oh, shit!"

The trio stumbled as they all scrambled toward the Twinkie. JJ hurriedly opened the passenger door for Josie, practically shoving her through it. Once she was in, she reached over to start the van as JJ slid over the hood and climbed into the driver's side.

They barely had time to register Pope shutting the sliding door before JJ peeled away and headed in the opposite direction of the approaching cop cars.

"Any bright ideas on what we do now?" Pope breathlessly asked from the backseat.

Josie turned to look at JJ, who shrugged. He stared at Josie as if she were the one who made the calls, and she sighed.

"Okay, guess we're going to JJ's."

☼

It wasn't long after they'd fled the scene that the trio were informed by John B and Kie that they'd been detained. It also wasn't long after that when Josie had received her own private text from Kiara. One that had Josie demanding JJ drive and drop her off at the Wreck.

pink parrot

When Josie was eleven and had her first kiss, the first and only person she'd wanted to tell was Kiara. But Petunia had been monitoring Josie's phone conversations, and, to an eleven-year-old, nothing was worse than having her mother find out that she'd kissed a boy. But she had no way to tell Kiara why she was so desperate to talk to her without spilling the beans.

So, the duo created a set of safe words for any case of emergency. Pink parrot was the one that stuck, loosely translating to: We need to talk asap; find me immediately.

After receiving said text and forcing JJ to drive her with no explanation, Josie all-but-sprinted through the doors of her workplace and raced up to the bar that Kiara sat behind. The brunette spackled the wall that had been damaged during Hurricane Agatha, but Josie couldn't care less about the cracks. She obviously had more pressing matters to attend to.

The redhead was noticeably out of breath as she reached her destination. She stood with her palms pressed to her knees as she bent down to catch her breath. After a few heaves, she looked up at Kiara with eyes wide and full of curiosity.

"What's up? What's going on? What's so dire?"

Kie shushed the frantically breathing Josie, who squeezed her eyes shut as she remained bent down. The older girl grabbed at her chest, letting out a groan as she inhaled more air. She fleetingly wondered if it was okay to be that out of shape for her age.

Kiara grabbed Josie by the elbow and pulled her up, leading her through the kitchen and into the walk-in freezer. The motion drew Josie away from her lack of oxygen and toward the uneasy look on her best friend's face. "Jesus, it must be serious if you're dragging me into Antarctica."

"If I tell you this, you have to promise you won't freak out," Kiara scolded.

Josie scoffed as she crossed her arms. She was almost never the kind to flip her lid; she was not a very angry person. "Please, I'm as cool as a cucumber."

Kiara stared at her skeptically. Josie watched the silent debate dance across her eyes, before she pushed herself across whatever mental threshold she stood behind.

"John B kissed me, at the lighthouse."

It was a ringing—a very loud, very prominent ringing—that sounded through Josie's ears. Like someone had banged a set of pots together right beside her head, and she was still recovering from the aftermath. Like someone had used her head as the clapper of a giant bell, and her head was still ringing with the noise of it. Her vision seemed to grow blurry; little black fuzzies surrounded the outer portion of her vision like a tunnel. She could feel bile make its way up her throat.

She stared at her friend in paralyzing shock.

"Jose? You okay?"

She couldn't believe it. She couldn't fucking believe it. There was no way. There was absolutely no actual way that it was true. Who the hell did John B think he was?

When Josie got her fucking hands on him.

"He...he kissed you? Like on the mouth?" Josie was flabbergasted. It was like someone had written P4L on a piece of paper, crumpled it up, and threw it into a fire. Her skin itched, and her stomach ached. Her body trembled, and she couldn't tell if it was because of the temperature or Kie's confession.

Two of the most important people in her life...kissing.

"Yes, Jo, on the mouth." Kiara almost sounded embarrassed. And while it wasn't obvious, Josie could read her best friend like a book. She could tell in the way Kie avoided her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. Josie wondered if it was as mortifying for Kiara as it felt for herself.

The redhead really did feel like her best friends had just broken something sacrosanct. "Wow, I...I, uh, don't really know how to take that, if I'm completely honest."

Josie looked down at her shoes, scuffing the toe against the floor and picking at a fray on her shorts. She tried to find the right words—tried to keep herself from saying something that would offend or upset anyone.

But all her brain could focus on was the red tint the world seemed to fade into. She knew it was dramatic to feel that way, but she truly couldn't help it. Her tongue stung with a resentment so bitter that she held the urge to physically spit it out.

Why had she placed the rule on a pedestal if John B just got to choose to undermine its very principle?

"It's just...you know how I feel about No-"

"No Pogue-On-Pogue Mackin', I know. That's why I wasn't sure if I should tell you, but..." Kiara sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I could never keep something like this from you."

Josie nodded, understanding what she'd meant. While she was not at all fond of what had happened, she was grateful that Kiara trusted and loved her enough to seek comfort in telling her. They'd been best friends for seven years. It was natural for them to discuss things like that, however hard it may be.

Josie puffed out a breath, collecting her thoughts, and swallowed down the pride that clawed its way up her throat. "You're right, you're right. I'm not here to judge. I'm here to provide you with any support you may need." She held up her index finger. "However, I cannot say the same for John B. And as soon as I see him, I will poke his eyes out."

"I don't doubt it." Kiara laughed and grabbed the girl's hand affectionately, leading her out of the freezer and back into the main restaurant.

Josie made herself comfortable at the counter, pulling up a stray chair as Kiara went back to the cracks in the wall, and made her explain the whole ordeal in detail. Josie let her talk, providing moral support as Kiara vented every thought and opinion she'd had whenever she needed to. Eventually, Josie was given a drink and a bowl of fries to snack on as they conversed.

It was a few hours later when Pope strolled into the Wreck. Once he saw the girls together, he gave a nonchalant wave of his hand to beckon them to follow. "Come on, guys. John B says he has another plan, and guess who's getting roped into it."

Josie stared at him blankly, and she sipped on her lemonade straw unbothered. Kiara informed him that she wouldn't be tagging along with the rest of them.

"What? Why?"

Kiara shrugged and motioned to the wall, where she continued to spackle. Josie chuckled at the lame excuse, but she watched on with a smirk as Pope gave in. He clearly wasn't in a mood to argue with an annoyed Kie.

He turned to Josie, who shrugged as she leant into the counter she sat at. "Think I'm good right here."

Pope glanced back and forth between both girls, his confusion and frustration clear as he silently questioned why they wouldn't come. But they both remained silent, unsure if John B had spilled the beans and unwilling to cause any unnecessary stirs—yet.

The silence only made him more irritated at their complete shift in attitude since their earlier tirade. He huffed at the stubbornness of his girl friends as they continued to silently refute him. He marched out of the Wreck and mumbled something about taking back his statement from yesterday about needing the girls.

Not a minute later, their familiar brunette best friend strolled in, a nervous twinge to his voice. "Um...hey, uh, what-what're you guys doin'?"

Josie jumped up from her seat and immediately blocked his path toward Kie. "What does it look like?"

He looked down at her weirdly and stopped in his tracks. His gaze bounded back and forth from a preoccupied Kie to a glaring Josie, who narrowed her eyes up at him.

"Look, spackling can wait, guys. We're-we're about to make history."

"Are you concocting again?" Kie asked, walking past and away from the duo.

"Yes, yes, I'm concocting. I'm concocting more than I've ever concocted in my life." John B tried to follow her, but Josie sidestepped to block his path.

She smugly stared up at the very confused boy, before realization crossed his features. His eyes widened as he peeked over at Kie, frantically looking at both girls. "She told you?"

Josie scoffed at him in disbelief. "What, did you think she wouldn't?" She raised her brows as frustration simmered in his eyes. He looked quite nervous, to be fair, running his hands through his hair as his gaze continued darting between the girls.

Without another thought, Josie took her index and middle fingers and harshly jammed them at John B's face and directly into his eyes.

The boy grunted and leaned back as he raised his hand to rub his watery eyes. "What the hell was that for?"

"What do you think, dumbass?" Josie sent him a look that asked if he thought she was stupid. "You're lucky I didn't gauge them out, Oedipus."

He sighed and shut his eyes once again, before opening them to shoot another glance at Kie. She stood by a far table to watch the interaction. John B looked back down at his auburn-haired friend, who crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, peering up at him expectantly.

"Look, RJ, I get that you're angry with me, I do, and you have every right to be. I was stupid, I know."

Josie's shoulders dropped, tongue pressed to her cheek. She tried not to let his apologetic tone and reddening eyes get the best of her. He'd broken the most sacred rule. The rule that was there to make sure nothing as trivial as crushes on each other would tear them apart.

He looked back at Kie and tried to pass Josie once again, only to be denied. The older girl motioned to imply that he could still speak to their friend, but from a distance.

"And I know that you're just being a good friend and not trying to enable me in my delusion, and that your dad doesn't want you to see me." He motioned his head toward the back, where Mike prepped food. "But please. You are my best friends, and I need you both right now."

Damn him. Damn him for knowing that the best friend card was Josie's weakness.

She sighed and uncrossed her arms, rocking her head side-to-side and weighing her options. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she contemplated relenting on her tantrum. Eventually, she moved to let John B approach Kie. Josie followed as he dragged Kie away from where she stood and toward the back door, huffing childishly when she realized her pouting was coming to an end.

"Look, I'm sorry about the kiss thing. That was super weird, and I feel awkward about it, and it's even more awkward now that Jo knows, but listen, I need you, and I'm begging. I'm begging you. I am begging you. And I just want to talk for-"

"Oh my god! Shut up!" Kie interrupted, and John B shook his head in stupor.

"What?"

"I get it," Kie firmly stated as she quickly glanced at the newly amused look on Josie's face. In the redhead's opinion, accepting John B's frantic apology was worth it in the long run. Her admiration for her friends would always outweigh any anger that boiled in her stomach.

Kie stepped up to place a kiss on John B's cheek, a sign of good faith to calm John B's racing heart. "Friends?"

He immediately nodded. "Friends. Yeah." The duo shared a pogue-shake, a relieved sigh leaving his lips. "Back in the friendzone."

Kie went to let her parents know she was leaving, and Josie turned to meet John B's anticipatory look. He raised his brows at her, sticking out his hand for her. "Wha'dya say, RJ?"

She approached him slowly, eye contact unbreakable as she pressed her pointer finger into his chest. "You really understand why I'm angry with you, right? It's not just some rule that has no meaning, okay? This-" She paused to motion between the two of them, before pointing out to where she assumed the Twinkie was parked and to where Kie disappeared.

"This is the most important thing in the world to me, and I'd never let anything tear it apart. Sure, now it's just a kiss, but what if it was more? What if you guys started dating and then it didn't work out? We'd never be the same, B. The pogues would never be the same."

Josie could feel the waterworks, and she inhaled to keep them from releasing. "I love you both too much for that shit to happen."

"I know. Trust me, I know." John B nodded in agreement, but the look in his eyes made it seem like he had so much more to add to Josie's statement. Like he knew something about her that she didn't.

Josie sighed and stuck her hand out, finally sharing a pogue-shake with the boy. They turned at the sound of Kie calling to follow her, and the younger girl smiled at her friends' reconciliation.

"Love you too, by the way." John B tugged her head back with a yank of her ponytail as they walked. Josie slapped at his hand, shoving his shoulder and causing him to stumble to his right.

Kie scoffed and rolled her eyes at their childish behavior as she made her way out the door. The duo followed behind her while they continued their playful shoving.

As John B pushed her out the door, she finally made eye contact with her favorite blond, who sat in the passenger seat of the Twinkie. His blue eyes shone with elation at her presence, but all she could focus on was how the setting sun perfectly complimented the oceanic color.

Their shared gaze was broken when Kie opened his door. "Out, you know the rule."

Once shotgun is called, it applies for the entire day—unless stated otherwise.

Josie smirked as he put on a dramatic show of rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out at Kiara. He climbed out of the van and watched as Josie shoved John B's shoulder. She shared a smirk with JJ when John B tripped down the last step because of it.

The brunette speedily recovered and retaliated, spinning to shove Josie's shoulder as she also reached the gravel ground. JJ raced to make sure she didn't stumble and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, hitting John B for her in return.

"What're we kickin' his ass for?" JJ inquired. He ignored the roll of John B's eyes as they made their way to the opened sliding door. He also refused to acknowledge the fake gag John B mimed as they did so.

"He's a dick." Josie shrugged, and she giggled at John B's audible offended scoff.

JJ laughed as he waited for her to enter the van first, before climbing in after her and shutting the door. He then climbed over the backseat and into the trunk area.

Josie grinned at him as she nestled onto the bench next to Pope and returned to her position from earlier that day. She leaned back against the side, right knee bent up as it leaned against the back of the seat. She let her head fall backward as her eyes shut for a well-earned rest.

As John B started driving, she could make out the sound of JJ clicking his lighter. Josie peered to her right to see JJ taking a hit from a newly lit blunt. Immediately, she poked her bottom lip out in a silent plea, smiling when the boy easily gave her the blunt to puff.

After passing it between them for a few minutes, he finally spoke up. "You mind if we just relax on this one? It's been a long day, and a lot of weird stuff's gone down." He motioned toward Josie, who'd looked the most eased she'd been all day.

The weight of everything that day sat heavy on her shoulders, and all she longed for was a nice bath.

"We're just gonna lay low. Oh, did you want a hit of this?" JJ held the blunt out toward Pope. Josie breathed out a laugh.

"I keep the signal clear."

"Dude, okay. Do you understand that your problem is that you don't get creative? If you got creative then-"

John B interrupted JJ's lecture. "Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse, alright? And pretty much wrong about everything else going on, but I was right about one thing. Okay? My dad is trying to tell me something."

Josie opened her eyes as she took the blunt from JJ's hand. She inhaled a hit and returned it, before moving to sit on the seat behind John B. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shared a knowing look with Kie.

There was a part of her that encouraged her to believe in what he was saying. It was the same part of her that believed that hidden treasures and maps to lost cities existed. The part of her that swore that there was a possibility that John B's ship-hunting father was sending last-ditch messages to his son.

"Then let's find out what it is."

After letting John B drive them around for a bit, they eventually found themselves at an old cemetery. One of the very few on Kildare.

Josie was instantly intrigued, the newly darkened sky adding a bit of eeriness to their adventure. They all piled out of the car, passing out flashlights or, in JJ's case, a headlamp. They then joined John B in his confident trek toward whatever they were looking for.

"Come on, hey. Hey, come on," John B anxiously commanded Kie behind him, desperate for his friends to follow without interruption.

"I'm coming. This place is scary." Kie walked closely behind him, followed by Pope, as JJ and Josie took up the rear of the group. Mainly because Josie didn't trust a high JJ not to trip over a gravestone and break his nose.

Josie squinted and pointed her flashlight at different headstones to read the names and dates, trying to place people at different time periods in history. World War II fighters, people who read Little Women when it was first published, women who could've been flappers, and people who marched in civil rights protests.

So many different lives lived, all in one space together.

"John B, what are we doing?" Kie questioned, flashlight moving around as she checked their surroundings.

"Okay, so, you know how you try to remember a song and you can't remember who sings it?" John B asked, and Kiara agreed as Josie let out a hum of confirmation.

"So, Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place, right? But it's not a place." John B led the group to a crypt, lifting his lantern to show the name carved at the top.

Redfield.

"It's a person."

"Voi-effing-la," JJ stated. He elbowed Josie and nodded in pride at his French, to which she rolled her eyes and shoved his elbow away with her own. She stepped up near John B, eyes scanning the concrete structure as she inspected it.

"See, my great-grandmother Olivia. Redfield, that was her maiden name."

Josie examined the crypt and tried to decipher what time period it was probably built in. "Did you guys know crypts used to mainly be under churches? Technically, this is a mausoleum, which gets its name from King Mausolus's tomb, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World."

"Still creepy." Kie smiled despite her claim, and Josie nodded. Creepy, but fascinating.

"Alright, help me with the door. Come on," John B instructed. Pope agreed and followed to help move the door out of its spot. "One, two, three." They both let out strained noises as they struggled to push, but the door refused to budge from its hold.

"Are you pushing?" Pope strained.

"Yeah, I'm pushing."

Josie nudged JJ toward the door, and he squeezed himself in between the boys to help. "Here, I got it." But the door stayed put.

"Come on, this door's like seven hundred pounds, man. It's not gonna budge," Pope grunted.

"We didn't come this far, to get this far, alright? We got this." JJ's encouragement and the boys' failure were interrupted by a loud hiss that emitted from the small opening of the crypt. Josie noticed the black head of a snake straightaway, and she jumped forward to rip JJ back by his shirt.

"Woah, woah, woah." Sounds of fright escaped everyone as they moved away from the newly grounded snake.

"That's a moccasin, alright?" JJ shuffled to follow the snake. Kie pulled at Josie's upper arm as the latter closely watched the blond. "Ye old Dr. Cottonmouth. Death in tall grass."

Josie couldn't believe it when JJ started barking at the snake. Instantly, the group offered harsh commands for him to shut up as he tried to intimidate the snake. Josie turned away in incredulity and rubbed her forehead, anxiously looking around to see if anyone could hear the noises he made.

"You're gonna wake the freakin' dead, man." Pope pushed at his shoulder, causing JJ to stop and look up at them, confused.

"Dude, they're afraid of dogs. Everyone knows that, man." JJ turned to Josie, who shrugged in an exhausted response. John B went to examine the door again, but JJ pulled his shoulder to hold him back. "Wait, hold on, hold on. If there's one, there's probably dozens."

Despite Josie's title as resident scaredy-cat, if there was one thing she wasn't scared of, it was snakes. After living with the kind of person that Naomi was, she'd seen it all. Mice, snakes, lizards, cockroaches, spiders—the whole lot. So, while JJ's warning spooked Kie and Pope, Josie just rolled her eyes.

Kie grabbed Josie's hand, pulling her friend closer to her side as she flashed her light at the tomb. "Can you stop? You're scaring me, bro."

JJ proceeded to bark at the crypt, and Josie had to contain her laughter at how ridiculous he looked.

"Stop barking at the snake!" John B rebuked. It then caused a domino effect of arguments as the boys fought about whether or not it was smart for JJ to bark at snakes.

Josie dragged Kie toward the hole that the snake had slithered out of. After getting a good look at it, Kie quietly pointed out that it was a crack from where the boys had just barely been able to move the door. It was just big enough for one person to squeeze through, if they were short enough.

Josie tried to determine exactly how sober she had to be to climb through successfully.

"Look, we're not gonna get in there, alright? It's not budging," Pope stated. None of them paid any attention to the girls. "We should probably just go."

"One of us could probably get through," Josie offered. She and Kie flashed their lights up to the left of the door, where the hole opened a bit more.

"What? No, no, no, no. You think you-you're gonna fit through the hole? That hole?"

Josie playfully glared at John B, coking a brow in question as he stuttered to backtrack on his statement. She pursed her lips and nodded teasingly, while JJ hit him on the shoulder for his indirect inference. She good-naturedly giggled at his embarrassment, and glanced back at her female best friend.

"I would, but I'm not gonna get through without breaking something. This one, however..." She trailed off and expectantly stared at Kie, who shrugged.

"Look, this is about your dad." Kie was firm in her statement, looking at John B. "And honestly, I really don't believe in it, but you deserve to know the truth." There was a moment of understanding between the two of them, reaffirming that they all would do almost anything for each other. "I'll do it."

Josie nodded in agreement and sent John B a tight-lipped smile of encouragement. She motioned toward the twigs and vines. "Alright, get this out of her way."

She, Pope, and John B began pulling on them to clear the hole for Kiara to climb through. Unsurprisingly, the task was more difficult than one may have predicted because of the amount of time those vines had probably been growing there. The plants had a tight hold on the door, and the trio had a bit of a struggle to pull them aside.

"Jay, help her up."

They held them back as JJ leaned back against the stone with his fingers clasped in front of him. "I'm gonna boost you, alright. I've seen it in the movies several times." Josie laughed at the blond's assurance and gave Kie a supportive smile. "Ready?"

"Remind me what we're looking for," Kie wondered as she looked at John B for answers.

He nodded. "You'll know when you see it."

She then hesitantly turned to Josie, who nodded. Kie was easily one of the strongest people she knew; she could handle a little bit of grave climbing.

"Hold my flashlight." She passed the light to Josie, who happily stopped helping hold the twigs as she held one light in each hand.

Kie prepared to stand on JJ's hands, but Josie quickly stopped her with a hand to her arm. "Wait. I love you and don't die, but if you do die...can I have your board?" Kie scoffed, hiding her smile as she shook her head and gently shoved the girl away from her.

"Alright, so put your hands right there," JJ instructed her to grab his shoulders. Kie adjusted where her foot needed to be in his hold, and Josie cringed and prayed that he didn't drop her.

"Alright, on three. One-"

Without needing the countdown, Kie grunted and boosted herself up, shimmying into the hole. "Okay, never mind. Just forget about three."

As soon as Josie heard Kie's feet hit the ground, she stuck her hand in to pass the girl her flashlight. "Here you go. Be careful."

"I will," Kiara reassured.

Josie couldn't help but pull her middle finger to her mouth and chew on the short nail bed. The idea that Kiara might encounter multiple snakes at once, or something else entirely, caused the anxiety in Josie's chest to build slowly. Every possibly dangerous outcome ran through her head within a millisecond.

What if the building collapsed on her?

"You alive? You got, like, a-a heartbeat and everything?" John B asked, concern for their friend clear.

"So far."

Josie pressed herself to John B's side and closer to the hole to peek through and keep an eye on her friend. "Please don't actually die, Kie. I can't deal with these idiots without you." A nudge was given to her left shoulder, and she turned to see an offended JJ staring down at her.

She just shrugged, doubling down on her claim, and turned back to listen to her friend. "I'll try not to, but I need some more light."

"Yeah, yeah, here. Yeah, I gotcha," John B confirmed. Josie moved back slightly so he could pass the lantern into the crypt.

The silence that followed was deafening, and Josie's anxiety began to crawl up her throat when nothing was relayed from her friend. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her palms grew clammy against the rough stone of the door. She pushed against John B to peek in, where she saw Kiara staring at something. But she couldn't make out what it was.

"Kie, did you find anything?"

"Is there gold?" JJ quickly added. Josie gently smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand, eyes unwavering from Kiara.

"Oh my god."

"What, what? Kie, are you okay?" Josie scrambled to get a better look inside. She hoped that the lack of urgency in her friend's voice meant that she wasn't in any imminent danger.

Kie pulled what looked like an envelope from a crack in the wall. She passed it and the lantern out to John B and climbed out, with the help of JJ and Josie.

"That's not gold," Pope admonished disappointedly.

"Holy shit." John B astonishedly looked down at the writing on the envelope, For Bird written neatly on the front. Josie furrowed her brows as he looked around at all of them, confusion written across her features.

"This is from my dad."

Her confused frown quickly morphed into a stunned smile, and she was incredibly relieved that John B would finally get some type of answer to his mystery. But before any of them could celebrate or share their support, they were interrupted by the click of JJ's lighter and a warning from the boy.

"Code red, code red. Square groupers, square groupers." JJ immediately turned to push Josie along as he ushered everyone behind the stone building. "It's the guys that robbed your house." Once everyone had passed him, she grabbed his hand to pull him along with her.

"Turn off the lights, guys."

Josie quickly smacked her flashlight off, and everyone struggled to turn off their respective lights. Pope flicked the light on JJ's forehead off and scolded him, while the blond focused on putting his blunt out on the wall. John B fumbled to turn his lantern off as Kie scolded him.

Josie could make out the faint sound of a golf cart, which was quickly accompanied by the faint voices of whoever drove it. Kie tapped her arm, pointing toward where the voices sounded from. "Do you think it's them?"

She shrugged and tried to pull JJ back, a bit closer to her, as he peeked around the corner. "Homie's got a gun."

"Screw this," Kie stated through a shake of her head. She grabbed Josie's elbow and tugged her up as she bolted toward the cemetery gate.

Josie pulled JJ along by the hand, following after Kie and John B. Pope trailed closely somewhere behind them. It was only a matter of seconds before the leads were making their way over the surrounding wall.

"Okay, Jose, c'mon." She barely had time to think about the height predicament before she stuck her foot into JJ's clasped hands and let him boost her up over the stone.

Kie and John B were quick to assist her down, and JJ followed a millisecond after. "Go, go, go!"

They all went to sprint toward the Twinkie, when they realized Pope had gone over the gate and not the wall. And in the process, he'd gotten himself stuck in quite the predicament.

"Guys, guys! I'm stuck," Pope panicked. Josie ran over to help him down, followed by Kie, as she choked down her giggle. Her best friend's conundrum was surely something they were going to find hilarious in the future.

"Pope, come on, man!" JJ ushered before jokingly pulling the gun from the back of his pants. "Alright now, Pope, don't move, okay?" Josie didn't have time to reprimand him before John B roughly pushed his arm down, trying to grab the gun from him.

Josie and Kie urged Pope down as he viciously argued with the girls pulling him toward the ground. The sound of seams ripping could be heard, but Josie couldn't care less. The state of his shorts, or decency, was not more important than avoiding being shot at again.

"P, you just have to let the shorts die; it's not worth it! I'll buy you a new pair!" Josie and Kie gave one final tug to bring him down from the gate. That time he followed, but his shorts did not.

Josie cackled as they raced for the Twinkie, carelessly stumbling as she continued to laugh at an underwear-clad Pope. Through her smile, she feverishly apologized to him.

"Nice, c'mon, dude. It's a little Tootsie Roll," JJ jokingly poked fun at Pope. Josie shoved the back of his head as Kiara opened the back door for them to climb through.

The brunette girl climbed into the front seat, laughing and calling Pope stupid, as he ran with his hand cupped to cover his manhood. Pope clambered into the back, and Josie impishly slapped his butt as she climbed in behind him.

"Gun it! Gun it!" She scrambled forward to repeatedly hit John B's shoulder as JJ climbed through and shut the door behind him. The whole group couldn't help but heartily laugh as John B peeled away from both the cemetery and Pope's shorts hanging from the gate.

☼

Once they'd made it back to the Chateau, JJ had insisted that he was in need of nourishment. Pope had insisted on finding something to replace his shorts. And the others had insisted that they shut up and stop complaining.

Josie, Kie, and John B sat at his dining table as they stared down at the envelope. JJ made himself a sandwich as Pope went to throw on pants. Josie couldn't help but glance at John B every few moments, aware that there must've been a complex range of emotions racing through his head.

The desperation in his eyes was the clearest of them all.

JJ spread peanut butter on the bread he'd found in the back of John B's cabinet. Josie tried to keep herself from vomiting at the fact that it was definitely past the expiration date, choosing to let him deal with that consequence.

"That bread had mold on it three days ago," Pope criticized as he exited John B's bedroom, sporting a pair of sweatpants. He lifted a lantern and joined the others around the table.

"Yeah, I'll just pull off the bad parts," JJ answered nonchalantly. "Plus, mold is good for you. It's just a natural organism."

Josie shuddered at the logistics of his argument, glancing over her shoulder at him. "JayJ," she called.

"Yup, yup, yup!" He raced to stand behind her chair, with the moldy sandwich and a Sprite in hand. "Hot damn! Let's do it!" He placed the soda down in front of Josie, and she fleetingly shot him a grateful smile.

John B tore off the seal of the envelope as JJ took a bite of his sandwich. Almost instantaneously, the boy behind her gagged and spat the food into his hand as Josie grimaced. Her eyes flickered between John B opening the package and JJ moving to throw away the part of the sandwich he'd spat out.

She silently begged for him to trash it, only to be disappointed when he instead chose to just peel at the mold.

John B unfolded the piece of paper he'd pulled out, laying it on the table to reveal it to the rest of them. It was a map of the coastal North Carolina region, but scribbled on it were markings where Kildare rested on the Outer Banks.

"Holy shit," John B graveled as he flattened the map.

"Well, X marks the spot." Pope leaned down to point at the obvious marking on the map. The group attentively watched as John B confirmed that the coordinates jotted down on it corresponded with the X.

"Maybe there's something else in there," Josie suggested. John B nodded, and he reached in to pull another object out of the envelope.

"What's that?" JJ asked once John B held the device, and Josie scoffed humorously as she looked up at him.

"It's a tape recorder, dumbass," Kie answered. The offended look he gave their friend made the redhead laugh, and JJ gently swatted her shoulder in retaliation. She swatted back at him, briefly starting a swatting fight over her shoulder, before Kie reached out to smack both of their hands and effectively stop them.

They all waited with bated breath as John B hit play on the device.

"Dear Bird," Big John started, but was abruptly interrupted by JJ.

"Who's Bird?"

"That's what my dad called me," John B answered. Josie reached her hand out to rest on his forearm and gave him an encouraging squeeze. She nodded for him to continue the tape.

"I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so. And you doubted your old man. I suspect at this moment, you're filled with guilt and self-loathing over our last fight, but don't kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn't expect to find the Merchant either. You were probably right to call me out, wasn't exactly Father of the Decade. What can I say, kid? I could smell the barn. And hopefully, we're listenin' to this in our brand-new sugar-shack down in Costa Rica, livin' off passive investments and pulling on permits. If not, and you find this for less-than-optimal reasons, well, that's what the map is for. There she is, the wreck of the Merchant. If somethin' happens to me, finish what I started. Go for the gold, kid. I love you, Bird, even if I didn't always act like it. I'll see you on the other side."

The recording ended, and a silence blanketed the group as John B let out an audible gulp. The energy in the room was heavy, and mere milliseconds ticked by as they sat in their disbelief. John B rose from his seat, gently removing Josie's hand from his arm, and turned to walk toward the kitchen.

But before he could get very far, he collapsed against the doorway with a sob.

It was instinctual for Josie to quickly rise from her seat and rush to her friend, wrapping her arms around him from the side. Her right hand rubbed up and down his back as he leaned into her. Tears dripped onto her arms, which caused her own to fall into his hair.

She hated seeing her friends cry.

"Holy shit, he did it! Big John, h-he found the Royal Merchant-" JJ's cheers were quickly shut down by Kie, who placed her palms on her head and annoyedly pointed at him in disbelief.

"Can you-can you please?"

"Yeah, sorry."

Josie continued to console John B as she whispered reassurance in his ear, but there wasn't much more she could do. Hearing his supposedly dead father's voice was obviously quite a lot for him, as it would be for most people, and Josie didn't know what to say to make something like that better.

So, all she could do was offer him comfort and remind him that he was loved and validated through his pain.

Kie slowly walked toward the duo and tucked herself into John B's other side. The both of them let him find solace in their embrace.

Josie leaned into the boy's shoulder to try and hide the tears that freely fell down her face. At some point, she reached around to squeeze Kie's hand on his back as she bit her lip, desperate to keep her own empathetic sadness from audibly spilling out.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there, comforting him. But sometime after, John B decided that he'd needed air.

The five of them all moved to settle on the dock as thunder rumbled in the distance. There was a grief that hung in the air after what was basically confirmation that Big John was dead, but there was also an anticipation from the implication of looking for the gold.

Josie watched as JJ skipped rocks and Kiara softly played her ukulele. The girls shared a spot sat atop the side of the dock, and Josie used the younger girl's shoulder as a pillow as she rested her head against it. The plucks of the familiar strings lulled Josie into a sense of security, and she would occasionally chime in to hum along with the melody.

"How much was it again?" JJ asked as he tossed another rock into the marsh water.

"Four hundred mill," Pope answered, and Josie shook her head in bewilderment. Sure, her family had money. But she couldn't even begin to imagine what that amount of money would even look like.

JJ sighed through pursed lips. "Alright, let's talk the split." He threw his last rock out, before turning to face the group directly. "Now, before we say 'evenly,' may I remind you that I am the only one who can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us." He held up the gun for emphasis. "Protection? Not cheap, okay?"

Josie rolled her eyes at the insinuation that he was some all-mighty protector.

"You haven't trained. You've done zero training," Pope pointed out disapprovingly.

"YouTube, bro. That's at least a five percent bump right there." JJ's claim caused Josie to snort out a chuckle. She moved to lean her forehead against Kie's shoulder, which shook with her own chuckle.

"You haven't-" Pope tried to argue, but to no avail.

"Any objections? Didn't think so."

Josie, Pope, and Kie all raised their hands at the boy's question, but they were promptly ignored by his refuting statement. "I didn't hear any, so..."

Kie rolled her eyes, deciding to ignore JJ as she turned to Pope. "What're you gonna do with your 80 mill, Pope?"

Josie chuckled and glanced over at Pope, intrigued. He thought about it for a moment, slightly nodding his head. "Pay for college in advance. And also, textbooks. Those are expensive."

"What about you, Kie?" Josie gently asked. She raised her head from the girl's shoulder to nudge it with her own, earning the same movement back.

"Yeah, what does a socialist do when she's rich?" Pope smugly chimed in, making Kie chuckle and shrug.

"Just wanna make a double album. About OBX, the pogues. Y'know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston." She paused to bask in the imagination. "Record it at Marley Studio, this one on backing vocals, Peter Tosh producing." Kie nudged Josie's shoulder as she mentioned her, but she rolled her eyes.

"Peter Tosh is dead-"

"Peter Tosh is dead. I know that, Pope. Sprit of Peter Tosh will never die." Kie lifted up her beer can at him for emphasis, and Josie smiled at the happiness radiating off of her female friend.

"Actually, I know what I'm gonna do," JJ butted in. His gaze moved to meet Josie's as he spoke. "I'm gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full kook."

"You're gonna go full kook?" Pope asked skeptically, earning a nod back from JJ.

"Yep. Gonna get a marble statue of myself, and then I'm gonna get a koi pond. Put a bunch of those fish-"

"I'm never visiting." Kie chuckled at her friend's idea of luxury.

Josie tried to imagine what that would look like. JJ in those shorts and polos that everyone on that side of the island wore, hair slicked back so perfectly that not a strand was misplaced. He'd sport a constant smirk that implied he thought he was better than everyone else. He'd be accompanied by a set of golf clubs that probably cost more than his bike and wristwatches he could pay a house payment with.

He'd also have some platinum blonde woman that he met in Barbados, or somewhere like that, on his arm. She'd have a big ass rock on her finger, and they'd pop out a few bratty kids.

She loathed the thought of him like that.

"What about you, Jo?" Kie asked softly, gathering the girl's attention, as she sat the ukulele down on the wood beside them. Josie pursed her lips in thought.

There were so many things she could do with that kind of money. Obviously, she could fund her exploration of St. Dismas. Hell, she could probably buy the whole campus grounds and just hire people to search it. Or she could leave the Outer Banks to go treasure hunting off the coast of Africa and never turn back. Or she could follow Pope's steps and pay for college.

But, despite all of that, she was sure her answer was not the one any of her friends were expecting.

"I wanna help my dad go to rehab—get him off drugs. Pay for Naomi and my niece to go to college. And maybe get a dog, a really big one." Josie sighed with a soft smile and picked at the skin around her nails. She forced back the tears stemming from her complicated emotions.

"Buy a place of my own. So I never have to be around my mother ever again."

Kie sighed and stared at her friend sympathetically, moving to gently intertwine their fingers together. The brunette squeezed Josie's hand lovingly, and Josie squeezed back just as emotionally.

After everything she'd gone through with her dad, after dealing with the never-ending weight of her mother's expectations, and after fighting her own personal demons. After all of that, at the end of the day, she had her friends. Her pogues.

And that would always be enough.

"What're you gonna do, JB?" Pope asked the abnormally quiet boy, and the four of them turned to stare as they waited for his answer.

He stayed in his thoughts for a few moments, before he nodded and turned to smile at the rest of them. "To going full kook."

They all stood to toast their cans, laughter and smiles prominent. "To going full kook!"

⋄ ⋟⋆ june 20, 2020

as benevolence fell apart in between my fingertips, I was reminded in that moment of just how beautifully human we all were. as the cracks in his heart broke evermore with the songs of his missing piece, I was reminded that even those that shone in the light had a dark shadow threatening to swallow them whole. and as our laughter danced through the night sky afterwards, I took the opportunity to look at my friends when I was met with a graceful thought. that the idea of being loved relentlessly, for a split moment, no longer seemed impossible. it was there. in the delicate grip of palms pressed together and gazes sharing a sense of overwhelming serenity, there was irreplaceable love. and there I sat, grasping that love and holding it with my hands unscathed.

- josephine grey ⋄ ⋟⋆

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trboyrants · 1 year ago

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leo

BASICS

First Name: leo

Middle Name: jameson

Last Name: martin

Nickname: le, leonardo, leotard

Gender: male

Age: 23

Birthday: 5/24/2000

Birth Stone: emerald

Zodiac Sign: gemini

Sexual Orientation: straight (but $20 is $20)

ROMANCE

Ideal partner? someone who has the same interests, is always down for something fun, and wants the same things in their future

What was their first kiss like? it was a kiss for a piece of candy in kindergarten. she smelled like glue and had glitter on her face and he did not like it

CHILDHOOD

Life Story: Grew up in a small town with his mom and dad who should have gotten divorced long before they had a kid. It’s a very off and on household and his parents have too much pride to get divorced, so they stay together even though it’s not a secret that they’re both seeing other people. He isn’t that close with either of them and does his own thing a lot of the time, occasionally sees his mom but really only sees his dad on holidays

Did he have an imaginary friend growing up? a racoon named harold

Nurtured or neglected growing up? He was a mixture, it depended on the day and what kind of mood his parents were in

Closest family member? His paternal grandmother, Joyce

Languages spoken at home growing up? English

Financial situation growing up? they had times where they struggled, but always managed to get by

PERSONAL

Do they ramble or are they to the point? depends, he’s known to do both but he usually rambles

Does he have any addictions? he vapes, smokes weed and cigarettes, has dabbled in coke

What’s his biggest secret? on thursday nights he stays at his grandma’s and knits with her while watching the bachelor

What is he obsessed with? music, making sure his grandmother is okay, and not turning out like his parents

Does he have any pet peeves? people who act like they’re better than everyone because they have money

Does he have any superstitions? Does not like the number 333, won’t walk on a sidewalk crack

What’s his favorite swear word? fuck, godammit, cunt

One word they would use to describe themselves? funny

Sense of humor? definitely on the darker side

What’s his soft spot? you

Favorite person? also you

Do they rent or own? rents, he lives with his grandmother

Do they live in an urban area or rural? suburban

What’s their dream home? a place big enough for his family that he can call his own

How long can they hold a grudge? forever

APPEARANCE

Eye Color(s): chocolate brown

Hair Color: brown

Hair Style(s): on the longer side, curly, very much ‘i woke up like this’

Height: 5’11

PERSONALITY

Personality traits: funny, sarcastic, dorky, determined, protective

Good Habit(s): very strict about his oral hygiene, very organized with his weed

Bad habit(s): smoking, leaving clothes everywhere, not answering his phone

Like(s): hanging out with his friends/grandmother, board games, shitty movies

Dislike(s): people who think they’re better than everyone, dirty bong water, bad weed

Hobbies: dabbles in rpgs, plays guitar from time to time, listening to music

Allergies: grass

Fear(s): ending up like his parents

Fun Facts? he still sleeps with a night light

WORK

Ambition/dream: to move away and open his own record store

Occupation/Job: works at the local record store, teaches guitar lessons on the side for extra cash

RELATIONSHIPS

Relative(s): Maria Martin (mother), Josh Martin (father), Joyce Martin (grandmother)

EXTRA

Scent: weed, tobacco, cheap cologne

Outfit(s): ripped jeans and a t-shirt

Scars: a few random scars from scrapes and cuts on his arms, a gash through his eyebrow from hitting it on the corner of a cupboard

Jewelry: a plain silver chain, a few rings

FAVORITES

Favorite Song: the summoning - sleep token

Favorite Food(s): anything sweet

Favorite Drink(s): blue mtn dew

Favorite Color(s): black and green

Favorite Animal(s): raccoons

Favorite Number: 69 (he’s gross)

Favorite Season(s): winter

Favorite Holiday(s): halloween

Favorite Time of Day: middle of the night

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diremoone · 2 years ago

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Occupational Hazard | Pedro Pascal.

Note(s): Comedian! Reader, Large but Legal Age Gap (MC is 30+), Female Reader, mentions of assault and injury, Pedro and MC are engaged 💍 (also, more often than not, when you ask for no salt on the fries at a fast food place (where I’m at anyway), the fries are always hot and fresh), wrote this in a span of, like, two days so it’s not proofread! enjoy!

Summary: Being a successful comedian, you’ve made all sorts of jokes, especially ones at your own expense. But not everyone has the same sense of humor, and Pedro finds out how dangerous some of these people who find your jokes “offensive” are.

****

Pedro hadn’t expected your text message so late. He had just gotten home an hour prior, tired and exhausted. But after his shower, he heard the ding of the two minute reminder on his phone. He plucks his phone from the charge and reads: Would you be available right now? To pick me up? Had an incident tonight.

He’s dressed and out the door not even five minutes later, wet hair slicked back away from his face so his glasses wouldn’t get wet.

It unfortunately takes him thirty minutes to get to the comedy club where you were scheduled to have an event, much much longer than he wanted. But when he arrives, he’s ushered in by the guards that already know him and the fact you and him are in a relationship.

A female guard in plain clothes is waiting for him the moment he steps through the doors, more than likely the one who informed the ones outside you had sent for him and to let Pedro through.

A couple of twists and turns down some hallways and he’s at the stage where you do your work.

He grimaces to himself, and his heart fills with worry and concern.

Not even five seconds upon entering the room did your eyes lock onto his form, his presence something you’ve always noticed immediately regardless of his quiet he was — always seemed to know when he walked into a room, your soul practically locked onto his own.

When the doctor pulls away, finishing her job, Pedro sees the damage done: a full black eye that would be shut for several days and a split lip, with a nose almost broken with a dot of dried blood at your nostril. You’d probably have to go to the hospital in a day or two to have that checked out to make sure it healed properly.

Everyone pulls away from you like opposing magnets, leaving the room to give you both some privacy. He’s glad. He also doesn’t want them to see him pissed off, because he was almost fucking livid.

He pulls a chair from where the crowd sits and places it in front of you. You give him a smile through the pain, and he wants to kiss you so bad but your lip is split damn it—

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey yourself,” he whispers back, trying to smile back and not be angry. One hand is laced between the fingers of your left hand that has that pretty diamond engagement ring on it, his other cupping your cheek on the side that doesn’t have a black eye and rubbing your skin fondly. “What happened, baby?”

You shrugged. “Not everyone has the same kind of humor.”

Pedro raises his brows. “Meaning?”

You inhale heavily, releasing an equally heavy exhale.

“A guy got pissed at a deadbeat dad joke I made,” you said. “I guess he fit the criteria, knew it, and got pissed. Felt called out, I guess.”

His eyes go wide with shock. “You serious?”

“Yeah,” you admit. You run your thumb over the skin of his hand and continue, “I think I’m gonna cancel my next three shows.”

Pedro’s against it the second the words leave your mouth. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am.” You give him a face, one he recognizes easily: you’re not going to budge, and there’s no point in him arguing. “I think he universe might be telling me to take a break.”

He nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, you’ve been going as hard as me lately. I’m starting to think this line of work is more dangerous than what I do.”

You slap his shoulder in a light and childish manner. “Oh, shut up. You do a lot more taxing work than I do.”

“But you’ve done a lot more shows than you have in the last, what, year?” Pedro argues this time. “That’s a fucking lot. Not even I’m sure I could handle that much moving around the states so fast.”

You jab back, “That’s why I pack lightly, baby.”

He laughs. “Har har. Got me there…” Pedro leans forward and presses a kiss to the side of your temple. “I love you, mi princesa.”

You giggle, warmth flooding to your cheeks at Pedro’s affection and soft declaration of love for you.

You almost get to say it back, but he grins cheekily because he already knows and proceeds to ask, “Want some McDonald’s?”

You stand to your feet immediately. “I want two twenty piece McNuggers, two fries without salt, and a big-ass Sprite.”

“You eat too damn much.” Pedro snorts, smiling ear-to-ear. “And you and your no-salt on the fries, I swear.”

“It’s better that way!” you reply, mock offended. “And you get them fresh, too! That salt isn’t any good for high blood pressure anyway.”

“Whatever you say,” he remarks. “So, McDonald’s in the car, go home, shower, and cuddle with a movie on until we fall asleep?”

You love him — absolutely and positively love him. This man knows how to make your bad days better like the back of his hand.

“Sounds perfect.”

You’re so glad to have him. You’re the luckiest woman in the world, no doubt, to call such a perfect man yours.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #real person fiction #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal fluff #pedro rpf x reader #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller tlou #female reader

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ephemerensis · 3 years ago

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Oatmeal Raisin // Jason Todd x GN! Reader

lil fluff piece. platonic! but any kind of relationship can be implied. jason has a lil craving for cookies that you help him out with. tim is allergic to peanuts which idk if that’s canon or not but…

—

As far as you were concerned Jason didn’t like you, not really. He got along with you civilly, certainly. But in all your years of friendship with one Timothy Jackson Drake, you hardly spoke. So you never really got to know Jason the way you got to know the others. At least not at first.

It was difficult to get to know any of them actually. Especially before you were let in on the whole Batman thing, and even after. It was hard for them to open up. And that was fine, because you understood that. And they were trying and you could appreciate that.

Naturally, Dick was the easiest to like and it got even easier when you found out that he was your beloved Nightwing. You were in love with Nightwing; owned all the memorabilia, had postcards of him plastered on your wall, knew his patrol routes as well as a civilian could so that you might just catch a glimpse of your favorite masked crusader. When you learned that you knew him? Dick became the sole recipient of your constant doting and gushing about how cool he looked on TV and what the latest magazine had to say on his relationships, his impacts on Bludhaven and so forth. You both shared a sense of humor, corny dad jokes and all.

Damian was trickier. You weren’t exactly good with children, which was bad enough, but he acted so maturely for his age it was hard for you to not feel intimidated. But as you fell for Titus, he yielded himself slightly. And when you learned that he could be swayed by the promise of a bedtime story (Jane Austen of course), so long as it was offered without condescension, it’d sealed the deal.

You bonded with Stephanie and Cass over disorganizing Tim’s meticulously arranged utility belt and hiding away all his suit capes around the manor. You argued with Babs over which stage of the hero’s journey Bruce was at in his developmental arc. You didn’t galavant the streets with them in search for crime, nor did you share tragic secrets in hushed solemn tones. Being a friend was enough.

Until eventually, you clicked with everyone over time. Everyone but Jason.

That’s not to say you didn’t like him. You admired him in your own way. He was pretty cool. He never missed a shot in training and if you were lucky enough to catch him in a talkative mood he’d teach you about the vital points to aim for or how to break off the safety switch on a gun so it wouldn’t interfere with your performance and throw you off (not a true story, just a hypothetical.) “Essential street smarts.” That was the extent of your interaction.

Until one night, you found him knocking on your window.

How he got your address was another story, probably the same way Tim knew your credit card number or how Cass found your Netflix password, but regardless he was at your window tapping away. You opened it, letting him in.

“Hey… If you’re looking Tim or something, he’s not here.

Jason clambered through the window, taking his hood off and setting it on your kitchen countertop on the way.

“Timberly? No no, I’m not here for that loser. He keeps talking about how much you like baking though, is it true?”

His back was to you as he tugged the gloves off his hands to run his hands under the water from your faucet. He sure knew how to make himself feel at home.

“Yes. Yeah. I do. Why?” Your brows knit in visible confusion as he turned off the water, wiping his hands on the towel you hung off the oven handle.

“You know how to make oatmeal raisin cookies?”

“I’m sorry? Oatmeal raisin?”

“Yeah. You know how to make them or not?” Turning around, the muscular man crossed his arms, looking down at you from across the room almost condescendingly, like it was a challenge.

“...you know what? I do know how to make oatmeal raisin cookies. Go run and buy raisins, I’ll start on the batter.”

Sure enough, within ten minutes Jason came swinging back through your window with a jumbo bag of raisins. After nagging him for walking through your living room with his boots on and making a quip about how he’d never finish that many raisins, you invited him to the kitchen.

He was a terrible cook. You didn’t know how he succeeded in mistaking flour for sugar, but he managed. After scrapping the first batter he added four extra eggs to and halfway through the second, you kicked him out and took over completely.

“No, I insist. Let me do it, it’s okay. Just sit over there and read a book or twiddle your thumbs or something, please.”

A half hour later, your kitchen was soiled but they were baking. Closing the oven with a satisfied huff, you looked over to Jason as you straightened yourself up.

Jason was watching you. But not in the critical way he fixed his gaze on passerby’s on the street or the hard gaze he’d set on his targets; just watching you. Calloused hands tossed a bullet cartridge between them as his feet swung to and fro from your barstool chair. He looked so boyish, it was almost cute.

“They’ll be done in twelve. Why oatmeal raisin? I’m not judging or anything but I make a mean chocolate chip that blows raisins out of the water.”

A tap sounded as he placed the cartridge down on the marble counter with a shrug.

“S’what my mom used to make.”

Slinking over to the adjacent chair, you took off the oven mitts to rest your face in your palms, looking at him expectantly to continue.

“What? We’re telling stories now?”

“I mean, you almost never talk to me and then you swing in asking for the least popular cookie type to date— I think a story time might be in order.”

“You’re keeping your mouth shut short stack, no one hears any of this.”

Huffing a giggle, you motioned zipping your mouth and flicking away the invisible key as he rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t exactly grow up rich. We’d have oatmeal every other day, mostly because that’s what she could scrape together. Fucking twat I was, couldn’t stand it. Threw a tantrum couple times ‘bout how tired I was of it. So she made oatmeal raisin cookies.”

His gaze was on his hands as he spoke but his eyes seemed to see anything but.

“I don’t want to get into all the details but, no matter how she treated me or raised me, she was still my mother. Afforded me this much kindness. Sometimes I almost miss her. So. Oatmeal raisin cookies.”

Wide eyes watched him, at a loss for words as your mind ran to process a response.

Breaking free from the recesses of his mind, he turned to look at you as he continued.

“Alfred usually makes them, but he’s out of town on business so… just thought I’d swing by I guess.”

The beep of the oven took you out of the trance.

Blinking, you stood. Clapping your hands together and reaching for the oven mitts.

“Well! I don’t know how good hers were, but mine are pretty hard to beat.”

Pulling the tray out of the oven, you let them cool a moment as you sought out a plate. Transferring them over, you slid it in his direction with a smug smile.

“Yeah, nothing beats Alfred’s, bud.”

He brought one to his nose, taking an obnoxiously loud whiff, cocking an eyebrow almost animatedly.

“6/10, more cinnamon could’ve been in order.”

“It’s not my fault you dropped like half my jar in the first batch!”

“Don’t yell at your food critic. Three point deduction.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “my apologies, my liege.”

Without missing a beat, he’d managed to shove the entire cookie in his mouth in one bite with the same cocky arrogance he’d held before. Mid chew, he stopped, looking at you in bewilderment before reaching for another one.

“What the fuck did you put in this?”

You burst out grinning, “Love, rainbows, and cyanide, it’s a secret recipe.”

If he heard you, he didn’t acknowledge it; scarfing down another with hesitation. Not that you minded. His usually stoic, suave, aura paled in the way his face lit up.

Between the two of you (mostly him), three tray fulls evaporated in the span of half an hour.

Packing up the last few batches you’d prepped and insisting he take the raisins home, you handed him a bag to see him off with.

“These got any nuts by any chance?”

“I used peanut butter, yes.”

“Thank you for your service, I will be passing on some to Tim.”

You snorted, “You’re not killing my best friend.”

With his hood back on, bag in hand, he clambered halfway out your window before turning his head back towards you.

“...can I come back for these? When Alfred’s busy that is.”

It caught you off guard.

“Yeah. No yeah, absolutely! Whenever you want. I’ll keep my window unlocked.”

“Not in this city you’re not.”

—

if you guys read the Last Cup of Coffee fic sgdjdd this was a deleted segment because i wanted to focus more on Tim 😭😭 recycling content at its finest tbh

#jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #tim drake #tim drake fanfic #batman #dc #red robin #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd fanfiction #red hood #red hood fluff #red hood x reader #red hood fic #batboy fluff

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homebody-nobody · 2 years ago

Note

this is me asking about your theories about mike and anna's teen pregnancy 👀👀

OKAY SO

Through watching season three, we know that Mike and Anna are having their fifteenth anniversary party. We ALSO know that Kie is obviously over fifteen. (this could also be interpreted as the *restaurant's* 15th anniversary, but I think it's a wedding anniversary, specifically on Vibes and Vibes Alone.) With these two pieces of information, we can infer that Kiara Carrera was born *GASP* out of wedlock. We can also BACK UP this inference with a line from season two, when Kiara says 'you're afraid I'll sleep with a pogue and end up pregnant, just like you did.' (we are hoping against hope that this is not foreshadowing. Please, Pates, for the LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY do not ALSO throw teen pregnancy into this mess. I digress.)

All of this information taken together points us thusly -- Kie was an unplanned pregnancy. We also know that Mike and Anna are significantly younger than Big John and the Heywards, although we have some allusion to the fact that Luke knew Anna back in the day. (Don't get me started on my Maybank Family Meta. It's *detailed*)

In order to dive into my theory that Kie was a teen pregnancy and it influenced Mike and Anna's 'success,' we need to examine Mike's (minimal) relationship with JJ, and JJ's storyline in season three. A lot of JJ's arc in season three (and in the other seasons overall) involve a decent amount of self-deprecating humor and some supposed-to-be-funny lines that just make you Really Fucking Sad. We see the culmination of this with Mike's line 'he's just like his father' and JJ stealing Mike's money clip. (Which like, I get that it was bad and it was a symbol and shit but like. Mike deserved it.) Kiara, naturally, is furious with him for 'giving them a reason.'

Essentially, JJ is a character that was born with a nasty reputation (thanks Luke). In past seasons and ESPECIALLY in this one, we understand that JJ *believes* everything said about him. He *believes* he's a bad influence/a loser/a bad kid/and just like his dad. (heartbreaking.) Part of the very heart of all the jiara development in season three involves Kie being FURIOUS that JJ would believe all that shit, both on his behalf, and AT HIM for believing it. When he says 'I'm sorry' in 3x09, he's apologizing for stealing the money clip, but he's also apologizing for believing what Mike (and everyone else) says about him, and apologizing for letting that be the reason he was convinced they shouldn't be together.

Now, bear with me. Because I believe that Mike hates JJ with such a fury because he used to BE JJ. Except, in Mike's case, his relationship with a girl from the other side of the island only ENFORCED that belief, rather than undermining it. Mike believes that he had to work hard to get out of the cut, and resents JJ for not doing the same work -- Mike truly believes that he was once a no-good dirty-rotten petty thief, and thus believes that JJ is, too. Except, in his eyes, he 'did the work' to get out, and JJ is, well. not doing that.

This is where the teen pregnancy loops back in. Mike and Anna own a restaurant. To start a restaurant, you need investors. If it was the Cut Community that pulled together behind them to support their dream, Mike would undoubtedly retain an ENORMOUS sense of loyalty to that community, and STILL be shitting on Figure Eight to this day. But, he's not. Why, you ask? Probably because Anna's Parents were the initial investors for the Wreck. If Mike got Anna pregnant and Anna's family Had Feelings about it, Mike would have had to PROVE that he intended to provide for Anna and Kie. What better way than to start a business. Anna's parents probably invested in it in order to preserve their relationship with their daughter and parent the best way rich people know how -- by throwing money at the problem.

Thus, Mike believes that the only way out of the Cut is by bowing and scraping to those on Figure Eight, treating them with 'respect' and 'earning' their approval (money). We also have bits and pieces of Anna telling Kie that she wants Kie to have the opportunities she had, and that they had to 'work hard' to get into the island club, maintain their reputation, etc. This evidence supports the idea of Anna being a disgraced kook, and, combined with Kie's comment about 'getting pregnant with a pogue,' gives us a pretty solid reason why Anna and Mike wouldn't be automatically accepted by Figure Eight and the rest of 'Good Society.'

The 'teen' part is mostly based on the anniversary party vs. Kie's age, but is enforced by the fact that Mike and Anna are TERRIFIED of Kie running around with 'those boys' at her age -- probably because Anna did the same thing, and ended up pregnant and at the mercy of her own parents. It's also looped in by them being afraid that she's 'throwing away her future.' Projection much, babes? Anna 'threw away' her future when she got pregnant at Kie's age, and explains her absolute desperation to keep her daughter from doing the thing.

That's about as coherent as I can make it lol so I hope it makes sense!!

#answered #jjmayday #this one got away from me sorry #i have a lot of thoughts #obx meta #obx theories #long post #you're asking me about my theories?#I've waited YEARS for someone to ask me about my theories!

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sunsents · 4 years ago

Text

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.”

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