#and which ones dont get crossed. shes an old hand at this shit. queen of ''GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!'' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

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.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

760 notes · View notes

irene-sadler · 4 years ago

Text

Six Months

someone wondered when the Baroness (a side character from the Tournament aka Sir Reynard and the Red Knight which I wrote earlier this year) was coming back and uh, “back” implies that she ever left in the first place, tbh. spoilers: she didn’t.

anyway so here’s a little something something

its a quick family story plus a story about civilians in wartime packed into a little over 4000 words. rated PG. ft teen romance drama, sheep, grown up romance non drama, and not a single canon witcher character. think Roseanne (original show not the weird remake that died on arrival for Reasons) but in the setting of The Witcher. or don’t if u have no idea what i’m even talking about b/c u dont watch 90s cable sitcoms constantly like i do lol.

Six Months:

The Nilfgaardian soldiers came at night, but they found an empty manor house. The occupants had had plenty of warning they were on their way; the family’s oldest son had ridden nonstop from Rivia Castle to warn them that there had been a coup, that the Queen had vanished and her young son was in charge, and that it was only a matter of time before their old enemy Caldwell came looking for them. Hilde thought they were, in many ways, fortunate - not lucky, because no luck had been involved - fortunate that their son was riding his fastest horse, fortunate that the rest of the household managed to collect what they could and hide the rest without dramatics or incident, fortunate to have somewhere else to go. An old herbalist’s hut in the woods wasn’t much, but it was, she’d said, a roof over their heads. They’d always had a plan, in case everything in their lives went very badly wrong. Everything had, and the hut was part of it.

Then her son rode off with most of her other sons and the rest of her husband’s knights, on the chance that the Queen was out there somewhere, and left the place somewhat emptier-feeling in his absence.

“Wish I was going with them,” the Baron said, looking down the woodland road after them.

“We talked about this, Eldred; you’re sixty-seven years old, your eyesight’s going bad, and your knees don’t bend anymore. A warband’s got no use for you.”

“I know that,” he said. “Don’t mean I don’t wish I was going.”

A little flock of sheep crossed the path, with some of her nephews trailing after them, waving sticks and shouting.

“I’ll be worried about them, too,” she said, as one of the sheep suddenly bolted. Eldred took her hand, squeezed it, and limped off after it.

The next time their paths crossed he was in a slightly better mood. She hooked her arm through his elbow and looked up at the full moon through the trees.

“Can’t hear myself think in there, so I came out here for some fresh air,” he said. There wasn’t enough room inside for even half the people who had followed them along. Most of the household had settled around the hut in tents and bedrolls. The inside of the hut was still jammed with the smaller children. They were also fortunate that it was spring, and nobody would freeze to death sleeping outside. No luck involved, again. No army fought in the winter, although she wouldn’t put it past the Empire to try.

“We’ll have to build pens for the sheep and pigs, tomorrow,” she said. “Maybe some more shelters, too. The farmhands can do it. And I’ll organize some of the women t’ forage in the woods. We’re fortunate it’s spring. We might be living off pottage of oats and chickweed, but we won’t starve t’ death.”

“You know,” Eldred said, “I was thinking I might get a shot at some of these invaders after all. They might turn up here.”

“They might.”

“Wouldn’t want any spies or wanderers t’ spot us and take word back to th’ army that we’re out here.”

“No.”

“Anyhow, with all these boys out here, I thought I might train ‘em up a little, just in case.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Might take some of these girls, too,” he added.

“Even better,” she said. He smiled down at her.

“We’ll be safe here.”

“Of course we will, with you around,” she said.

———

Wars were just a part of life. She was born and raised in Rivia; she’d grown up watching her brothers and father ride off to war with Lyria, over and over again. Her father was killed by a Lyrian archer when she was twenty-three. She’d watched her mother’s face while they buried him. She never wanted to know what it took to make someone wear that hard, dead expression. Over a decade later the King married a Lyrian princess and those wars stopped, but more took their place. There had been the rebellion, after the King died, led by her own disgruntled brothers, who refused to serve a Lyrian; her husband’s promotion from petty knight to Baron was a direct result of the glory he’d won putting it down. That war had almost destroyed her marriage, but they’d pulled through, in the end. Then there had been bandits, minor invasions, civil unrest; it seemed like there was always something to fight over, but never anything new. Whether Lyrians were killing Rivians or Nilfgaardians were killing Rivians, they always had the same damn excuses for it. The older she got, the less patience she had for any of them.

———

Smoke from cooking fires floated through the newly cleared area around the camp. The forest echoed with the sounds of axes hitting wood and more trees falling. The pigs slept in the shade out of the heat, watched over by a pack of skinny boys from the village. The herbalist’s hut sat surrounded by a dozen almost identical buildings - buildings, children, chickens, dogs, a donkey that someone had brought in, loaded down with rushes -

The Nilfgaardians hadn’t found them, but a whole lot of other people somehow had. Some of them brought livestock or food, but a hell of a lot of them had nothing but the clothes on their backs. Hilde refused to turn them away, even if a few of the hands muttered darkly about spies and famine. More was better; more people meant more hands to work and more eyes to keep watch. Eldred’s little force of skinny teenagers with homemade bows and farmhands armed with handaxes had grown in size, if not, in her opinion, in quality. He seemed pleased with them, at least. Some of them were standing watch at the edges of the clearing. She was pretty sure none of them were asleep.

It turned out they weren’t; a minor racket interrupted the idyllic peace of the summer afternoon - some kind of argument, she thought. She abandoned the shirt she was mending and headed to the north side of the buildings, where she found a pair of youths shouting at each other. One, she noticed, was her own youngest son, waving a bow and turning an impressive shade of red. The other was a dark-haired girl. The latter spotted her before the former; Hilde watched with detached interest as the girl’s eyes widened and her stance shifted from aggressive to frozen fear.

“Herron,” she said. “It’s -”

“What’s this about?” Hilde asked.

“- your mother.”

Herron deflated, visibly.

“We were just - we were talking,” he said, staring at his own feet.

“I heard.”

“Just a - a disagreement over the watch schedule,” said the girl. She raised an eyebrow, considered telling them to cut the shit, and then decided not to. Whatever it was, it was probably harmless, and it wouldn’t be improved by her involvement.

“If you have an issue, take it up with the Baron,” she said. “Meanwhile, quit disturbing the peace.”

The girl bowed and escaped at not quite a jog. Herron stared after her, still beet red.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Nobody.”

“No?”

“She’s just - she wasn’t at the right guardpost.”

“Whatever you say,” she said. Herron was shifting uncomfortably, showing the usual signs of a teenager who desperately wanted to escape.

“Go on,” she said. “Get back t’ work.”

———

Herron had begged to go to war with his brothers. He was only fourteen, and although he looked like a skinny, lanky, teenage copy of his father, he had none of Eldred’s athletic ability. The best that could be said for him was he was a decent shot. Maybe he would have survived the battlefield, but she didn’t want to take the chance. Besides, he was her baby boy; she felt like he had been ten years old only the week before. She couldn’t let him go, and Eldred had taken one look at her face and hadn’t argued with her. The resulting angst had taken weeks to wear off.

Whatever Herron was up to, she was just glad he was finally speaking to her again.

———

The rainy season hit exactly on time; a genuine stroke of luck, because the rain would keep their ever-increasing hideout a secret for a little longer. The pigs were happy, but the sheep and humans less so. Hilde and her selected lieutenants kept the place running anyway, despite the endless mud, the nonstop damp, and the weather that ranged from a drizzly mist in the mornings to downpours in the afternoons and evenings that were so heavy Eldred stopped making his militia patrol the forest for fear they’d get lost or drown in a flash flood.

During one of the downpours one of the militia members came splashing through the mud and into the hut. Eldred stopped scrubbing rust off his sword.

“Something going on?”

Hilde thought he sounded a little too hopeful.

“Nothin’,” the man said. “Not really. Just, we had this kid come up t’ th’ east guardpost just now.”

“Ask around; has t’ belong to someone around here,” Hilde said.

“Don’t think so, milady, on account of it ain’t a human child.”

“Oh. I’ll take a look,” she said. “Go on, I’ll be there.”

Eldred shook his head slightly at her as she stood and pulled a cloak around herself.

“What?”

“Nothin’.”

She could barely see where she was going, but she managed to slop her way through the muck between the huts and made her way the guardpost. A little pack of militia stood around the spot, watching a single, very small shape that huddled under a blanket. The shape didn’t look up when the guards all spotted her and stood.

“Honestly,” she said. “How many people does it take to keep an eye on one five-year-old? Don’t you all have work to do?”

“We were thinkin’ maybe there could be Squirrels about,” someone explained, awkwardly. She rolled her eyes; the expression might have lost some effect in the pouring rain and dark, so she added a little of it to her tone.

“Yes, well. If so, I’ll protect you, Jenny. Get going, all of you. Find something else to do.”

Most of them trailed off, muttering among themselves. One man stuck around; she raised an eyebrow at him, which he seemed to take as a sign. He stumped off a few yards away and stood squinting out at the dark woods. She rolled her eyes again and crouched down.

“Hello. Who are you?”

“I’m six,” the huddled shape said.

“What’s that?”

“You said I was five.”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s hard to tell for sure, under that blanket.”

“I don’t want t’ get wet.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ailfe.”

“My name’s Hilde,” she said. “If you come with me, you can get something to eat and sit in front of a fire. What do you say?”

“Alright.”

Ailfe sat next to the fire, inhaling a steaming bowl of barley and dandelion leaves. Hilde offered seconds after the first bowl was done, bided her time, and, finally, asked, “So - Ailfe. Where are your parents?”

The girl shrugged, took just enough time away from eating to say, “Dead,” and went back to it. Eldred shook his head again, slightly, when she glanced at him; he had looked less than surprised when she came in out of the rain lugging a bundle. He was trying to look like he was wearily embracing the inevitable, but she could see a hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. She smiled back.

“Where are you from?”

“Dravograd,” Ailfe said.

“Ah.”

She’d heard rumors, in passing, through the militia, who’d heard them from the merchants on the roads. Hilde knew enough to believe them.

“Well,” she said, “You can stay here, if you like; it’s not like we don’t have the room, and you can help my nephews with the sheep. How’s that sound?”

“Fine.”

Not twenty minutes later, the girl was dead asleep. Hilde pulled a dry blanket around her and stretched out on the pallet in the corner next to Eldred.

“Couldn’t let her starve,” she said to him.

“We’ve had stranger things than elves in our family, I suppose,” he replied. “Remember my uncle Egbert? Th’ one who turned into an enthusiast and became a priest of Pareplut?”

“I always wanted a daughter.”

“I know,” he said, kissed the side of her head, and added, “I love you.”

“And I love you, Eldred,” she said.

-——

When she’d decided she was going to marry him, her parents hadn’t been too sure about the idea. She was twenty and he was slightly more than a decade older, but she’d seen him in the tournaments, and she’d heard about him outside them. He was very often the best knight on the field - perfect form, an undeniable talent - and he was a close cousin to the King, and her aunt’s husband had it on good authority that he was as capable an administrator as he was a fighter. It was true that he wasn’t much to look at, but she wasn’t foolish enough to care about his missing front tooth, or the scar on his chin, or his crooked nose. The day he’d won yet another tournament and gallantly offered her the prize with a gap-toothed smile, she knew nobody in the world was going to change her mind about Sir Eldred Greenwood. Her parents would just have to get used to it.

——

The rain stopped for good and the sun cooked all the water out of the air. She started sending the kids and donkeys off to the stream, a mile away, every morning and evening to fill kegs with water. Ailfe trooped along with the others, wearing a shapeless cap that covered her ears, looking as filthy and half-wild as any of them. She had forgotten about the incident with Herron completely.

She was sitting on the top rail of a fence in the twilight, watching bats flutter through the smoke and lights of the camp and chatting about nothing in particular with Eldred. Anything resembling privacy was hard to come by, but most people seemed to be off doing something, somewhere, and nobody was near the sheep pens. At least, they didn’t think so, but they were wrong. Right around the time she lost interest in the bats and they ran out of things to talk about, something interrupted the forgotten background hum of insects and humanity.

“Wynn?” a voice said, from the nearby guardpost, out of sight past a shed. Eldred jumped about three inches and, to her mild disappointment, stopped kissing her.

“What the hell-”

She covered his mouth with her hand, quickly.

“Shush.”

It was only Herron. She recognized his voice. She didn’t immediately recognize the voice that responded.

“Hi Herron. You on watch?”

“Yep.”

“When do you get off?”

“Uh, in around an hour. Why?”

She figured it out, after some thought; it was the girl he’d been arguing with, weeks earlier. Eldred raised an inquiring eyebrow up at her. She shook her head at him.

“Do you want t’ get dinner afterward? My folks are cooking a chicken that quit laying.”

“Oh,” Herron said. “I already ate.”

After a brief pause, the girl said, “Um, well, have a good shift, then. I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” Herron replied.

Hilde waited a minute, then sighed wearily. Eldred looked pained.

“That was the single worst thing I’ve ever overheard,” he commented.

“I’m thinking you ought to have a talk with our son,” she replied, quietly.

“First thing in the morning, and not a minute later,” he agreed. “Anyway, what were we talking about?”

“We weren’t.”

————

They’d had five sons. The oldest, Hal, had a wife and children of his own. He was at court, most of the time; Eldred had sworn off the place as soon as Hal was old enough to go without him, and only went up for holidays and emergencies. Edgar and Robin, the twins, were five years younger and as unalike as they could make themselves. Edgar was a wanderer, had barely been home for most of the last decade. She wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or not that he had been home during the spring. Robin had just gotten married during the winter, and had a position at court. Jack, the fourth, had died of consumption when he was four. Her youngest son was a surprise; she’d been over forty when he was born, and nobody had expected both of them to survive the event, but they’d been wrong. Herron was weedy, but he was as strong as an ox. He looked like his father, crooked nose and all, but he acted just like her long-dead oldest brother - kind, loyal, brilliant, and unbelievably easy to manipulate. It worried her, sometimes, but she knew better than to wonder if her youngest son would come to a similar end. There was nothing to be gained by dwelling on the past, and even less by trying to predict the future.

———

The dry spell continued. One evening the donkeys and children went off as usual. An hour later as she was helping finish butcher one of the pigs, one of the boys scrambled out of the woods. Hilde balanced the knife in her hand and glanced at the trees behind him. Nothing seemed to be following him - at least, not very closely.

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re comin’,” he said, wide-eyed and shaking.

“Who?”

“Black Ones. We was on our way back, and - and -”

She swore under her breath and turned quickly; she would have told one of the others to get Eldred, find the militia, but it was too late; someone had already gone.

“- they took all the donkeys,” he continued, “Even Donny.”

“What about all your friends? The other kids?”

“I don’t know; everyone was running around, and there were soldiers, and nobody was payin’ attention to me and I just ran away.”

Herron raced up, sweating heavily.

“Ma, someone said th’ enemy’s here, and dad says t’ get everyone inside th’ stockade-”

“Yes, I know what t’ do,” she said. “There’s a bunch of kids out in these woods, somewhere.”

Her daughter was out there, somewhere. She had to go find them.

“I’ll go look for them,” Herron said. “I’ll find them.”

He looked terrified. She couldn’t send him - but she couldn’t not send him; she knew she couldn’t really go herself. What would she do out in the woods? Get lost. Get killed. Herron was, if nothing else, a good shot, and a halfway decent hunter.

“I can do it,” he said. He looked even younger than he actually was, but he sounded confident. She breathed out and nodded.

“Please be careful.”

“I’ll try.”

The stockade was barely a wall; it was a fence with a gate, but it was better than nothing. They’d built it to head height with the sharp ends of logs pointed out toward the trees, and it wouldn’t stop an arrow, but it would stop a horse. Hilde stood by the gate, looking through the holes in the fence at the path her husband and a bunch of teenagers and farmers had taken into the woods. He had trooped out with a sword in his hand, smiled at her under his helmet, and hadn’t looked back. She told herself he would be fine, and Herron would be fine, and the collection of women armed with axes and pitchforks and old spears left over to defend the entirety of the camp would be fine.

Hours passed, and nothing happened. The feeling of stretched nerves in the air turned to one of faint boredom as the afternoon wore on. She took to pacing the perimeter of the fence, watching the trees for movement, listening for a sound other than the endless rattle of cicadas and crickets and the noise of livestock and people. The shadows got long, and nothing happened. She sternly told herself not to worry, or, at least, not to imagine horrible things that could be happening very far away.

“Horses,” someone suddenly said. “I hear horses comin’.”

She stared out at the woods, clutching the makeshift spear she’d armed herself with. There were horses out there; she heard a rumble that could only be a line of heavy cavalry, dozens of armored horses and men. She’d heard them a thousand times in a thousand melees, and she could imagine exactly what they would do to her mass of barely-armed, unarmored peasants if they broke through the fence.

“Get ready with the spears,” she said. “Just like we practiced.”

Spears was an overstatement; more than a few of the people who lined up behind the fence with the points of their weapons facing toward the trees were holding pitchforks, but Eldred had thought they’d do just as well. She had her own doubts, but they didn’t have anything better. Any side conversations ended as the sound of the oncoming cavalry rumbled louder; they stood and sweated and waited until the first horse appeared on the narrow road between the trees. She squinted at it; it was hard to see in the dusk, and she wasn’t very familiar with Nilfgaardian armor, but she didn’t think the rider was wearing black. In fact, the knight riding up at the head of the column had a distinctly familiar seat. She breathed, finally, and leaned the spear on the fence.

“Those are Lyrian banners,” someone said.

“It’s a trick,” someone else replied, shakily.

“No,” she said. “No it isn’t. Open the gate.”

She trooped up the road, met the column, found Herron limping along beside them with a bandage on his leg, a pack of children surrounding him, and Ailfe in his arms.

“What happened?”

“I did it,” Ailfe announced. “I saved the day.”

“Oh?”

“Well, sort of,” her son replied. “She did keep the Blackclads from catching her and the other kids -”

“-we climbed a tree,” a boy announced, smugly.

“-and then I found them and they caught me -”

“Herron fought like a good one,” said Ailfe. “He got wounded, look.”

“- then Dad and the lads turned up and attacked the Nilfs -”

Ailfe finished the story in an excited shout.

“- and then, durin’ the fight, th’ army came!”

The knight from the head of the column pulled up and stopped.

“Not that we needed help,” he said.

“No, of course not,” Hilde replied, rolling her eyes at him.

“- anyway, it all ended more or less well,” said Herron. “And they’re saying the Queen’s back.”

She looked up at Eldred, caught a gap-toothed grin on his face.

“Oh?”

Eldred nodded at her.

“We can go home soon,” Herron said.

“Home?” Ailfe asked.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” he said. “Come on, let’s get down to the camp. Ma, are you coming?”

“In a minute,” Hilde said.

“Well,” she said, in the comparative quiet after they left, “Did you see any of our sons?”

“Not in this unit - these people are just scouts, really,” Eldred said.

“They’re all alive, at least?”

“Far as I know. We’ll see them soon enough, if all goes well.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Can I give you a lift back?”

“A ride from a noble knight? I can’t say no to that,” she said.

The camp was swarming with Lyrian soldiers, Rivian civilians, donkeys, barking dogs, and runaway goats and sheep. Eldred reined in the horse at the gate and overlooked the chaos. She thought she caught a glimpse of Herron and Wynn, ducking out of sight behind a hut, and quickly pointed out the leader of the soldiers.

“Ah,” Eldred said. “Well, I suppose we could wade into this mess and talk to him -”

“You’re the Baron,” she interrupted. “You can’t just sneak off by yourself with all this going on. Also, it’s getting dark.”

“I wasn’t going to go by myself.”

“Oh,” she said.

“What I’m thinking is we go off somewhere and come back after this has a chance t’ calm itself down -”

“I suppose I can always pretend you kidnapped me,” she said. “Someone has to maintain an appearance of responsibility around here.”

“I promise to have you back before dark,” he said. “What d’ you say?”

“It’s a deal.”

“Someone told me our Hal’s a Colonel, now,” he said, turning the horse around. She wrapped her arms around his waist and propped her chin up on his shoulder to see the road ahead.

“Is he?”

“Not that it’s a surprise; he’s just like you.”

“A social climber?”

“A pragmatist.”

“You always were a romantic, Eldred.”

“I’m a lucky man. We wouldn’t have made it all these months without you.”

Luck had nothing to do with it; they’d planned and fought and were, again, fortunate that it had all worked out in the end. She buried her face in his neck and let him think it had, anyway.

“I can’t wait to go home,” she said.

#witcher #fanfiction #original characters #drama #humor #romance #relationships #thronebreaker #middle aged women running things

7 notes · View notes

in-tua-deep · 4 years ago

Text

tua s1 rewatch with my roommate

episode one (I forgot for the first episode oops):

I have been treated to pictures of a lovely cosplay of Klaus who won a cosplay contest my roommate was in !!

Klaus putting his arm in front of Five during the funeral fight is good shit

“I have heard like nothing about Vanya” “yeah that’s pretty much how she’s treated in show as well”

“I can see why he’s the fandom favorite” - about Klaus

“Istanbul is in the firST EPISODE?”

I forGOT about the “rapists can climb” line when he breaks into Vanya’s apartment omg but also like,, his dumb arm wound

Episode two:

HERR CARLSON

Aww baby fives first time travel his little smile. Baby. Baby boy. And the dawning horror in the apocalypse baby nO

Five: you got anything stronger

Also five: takes one sip and then fills up more, takes another sip, and then immediately puts it down ?????

The motel dude for hazel and cha cha just looks at them like “yeah these are serial killers” and just rolls with it

Also actually why tf doesn’t the commission spring for better stuff?? Why would they cut costs?? They time travel? They could game the stock market so hard ?????? Give the assassins their own rooms omg

Also why didn’t five like. Crush his tracker. Why did he just leave it whole and intact outside of the Griddys.

Forgot how much I love Agnes

(Oh man it is storming bad here it just BOOMED)

Also idk if Diego actually deserved that taser hmmmmm but also like,, communication lads five was literally right there killing people and Diego is like “hmm something is up here” like. Yeah Diego ur big brother “I can get my sibling in trouble for something” senses are tingling

Wow I really did repress all these Allison and Luther scenes huh. Also it’s still super cute that Allison read Claire moon books

Allison: dads heart gave out, which wasn’t how I was expecting to find out dad had a heart but it tracks

“SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE BEN... said with love 😘”

Did five actually sleep at Vanyas?? The sofa looks undisturbed but he had to wait for work hours to interrogate the meritech people,, five,, please sleep. The whole “IF YOU CALL ME YOUNG MAN ONE MORE TIME” interaction makes more sense with five on. Zero sleep.

I didn’t remember that Patch straight up knows about the umbrella academy oops. Like she clocks Diego as overcompensating for his childhood. Queen

Is that an umbrella adademy Diego cross stitch on Diego’s wall?? Did he buy that? Make it?? Did grace make it?

Vanya, walking into the academy: five??? five? pspspspspsps

Also like. Who was Vanyas therapist??? Clearly they did not help her

Aww the tow truck driver :(

I know the show wants me to dislike Patrick I KNOW,, and I think her fathers funeral is extenuating circumstance?? But still Patrick is valid for not giving an inch regarding his ex who mind controlled his child. Vanya didn’t really deserve Allison snapping at her but like. She had some good points. Allison arguably would have had to deal with vanyas book more than anyone else

Five smiling proudly at Klaus’s drama at meritech bless but also KLAUS DONT BREAK GLASS ON YOURSELF

Me, spotting Leonard: BASTARD

Love how everyone greets Diego in the gym and don’t question all his knives or anything like “yeah that’s Diego he lives here and loves knives :)”

Why could Leonard have not been like. A normal ass guy. Vanya needs friends who sympathize with her holy shit get this person some socialization

Pogo really did have to lead these kids by hand to the recording rooms because literally no one was super invested in reginalds ~murder mystery~

ahafahJAGSJWGAI MY ROOMMATE JUST SAID POGO IS THE BEST CHARACTER SO FAR,,,, I will probably never include pogo in my fics because I do Not Care About Him lmaoooo

Aww five does to see Dolores and being like “it’s been a rough couple of days :(“,,,,, baby,,,, but also tag yourself I’m hazel going “elastic wrist splint yesssssss”

Five I am begging you PLEASE get some sleep

OH FIVE SHAKING DIEGO IN THE APOCALYPSE TO TRY AND WAKE HIM UP OHHHHH OH :(

Episode 3:

my roommate is super faceblind which is an issue bc she identifies people mainly by hairstyle so seeing the s2 stuff on tumblr is tripping her over bc she keeps seeing diego and going ??? who is that again? bc she’s seen his longer hair

okay there is no way that the eggs that grace put in that pan are the ones that ended up on the smiley face breakfast plate,,, but also grace that whole scene was a mood honestly i would be like “okay maybe mom killed dad BUT he deserved it sooooo”

“what the FUCK” - my roommate about cha-cha’s shitty wound care where she holds a curling iron against her arm

i didn’t remember that five got shOT AT THE DEPARTMENT STORE did i just erase that from my memory?? i mean yeah it’s a graze but he stitches it up and then slaps a bandaid on it so he has a wound that needed stitches on his shoulder for the entire show ??????? is he okay???? that would make moving your arm,,, painful,,,,,

a bandaid just slapped over it i’m actively yelling

“Sometimes when I see a million gifs of a show before I watch I get really surprised when they talk but he is exactly what I expected” - my roommate, about five

“I noticed they’ve only really showed diego in really badly lit scenes so far” - my roommate defending her lack of ability to recognize diego

i’m still laughing about pogo literally having to point out the murder tapes and now allison and luther are investigating and just. allison is lowkey defending grace and i’m laughing

“why is he saying woodwork is embarrassing that’s like one of the most middle of the wood hobbies to have. you’re respectable to grandpas who used to carve wooden ducks AND twenty-year-olds who can’t make anything to save their lives” - my roommate on leonard peabody

“i think he’s already crossing some lines he’s met this lady ONCE” - roommate on leonard/vanya

five having flashbacks in the car :(

did allison and luther draw straws for who went to fetch which sibling?? allison was like “dibs on vanya” and luther was just like “aww :(”

five luther and klaus in the van - BOYS NIGHT BOYS NIGHT let’s go pick up diego

“the coat he’s wearing does have a nice swish to it” - roommate about klaus’s coat

luther being like “you’re just as messed up as the rest of us and we’re all you have” like luther,,, baby,,,,, you literally ARE all he has,,,,,, his family is the only thing he’s really cared about since he was thirteen and maybe before then :(

“I can’t tell if those are supposed to be cake or yeast donuts... i think extruded donuts are cake donuts but she said she lets them rise so maybe they’re yeast?” - my roommate focusing on all the things that i do not

sometimes i forget that hazel and cha-cha pretended to be private detectives trying to find a lost child in a potentially dangerous situation,,, five would be disgusted

“she shouldn’t get a vote” “i was gonna say i agree with you” “she should get a vote!!” this is peak sibling energy honestly i think i’ve had that exact interaction with my siblings voting for a movie or something

“hashtag android rights”

“I want to be the tailor who gets a call one day that says ‘i want you to make clothes for a chimpanzee”

is it telling that only luther in the flashback didn’t really talk to grace at all,, i mean five didn’t either but i think he was gone by that point in the flashback ????

wait diego tells grace that she worked for him for thirty years,,, the kids are 29 and later it’s implied she was built bc vanya kept killing nannies when they were like four but maybe s2 clarifies that some more?? or diego just is rounding up

“that’s an interesting fabric to her skirt” - my roommate about grace’s outfit

forgot that hazel and cha cha broke the door to the manor busting in,, do they ever fix that?? we’re only at episode three do they spend the rest of the season with their door open to anyone on the streets

okay that bathtub is WAY too small to allow for klaus to be moving his elbows about like that underwater smh

“how is HE useful on mission??” my roommate about klaus

where is the SECURITY SYSTEM??? luther LITERALLY said that reggie was more paranoid and yet some assassin can just bust down the door and have unrestricted access????? he built a whole ROBOT but no security system????????

“maybe it was like,, practice for the kids? someone breaks in and they take care of it? wait no that doesn’t explain the thirteen years they’ve been gone?”

“why WAS he on the moon?” - about luther

“I want to see what she’s embroidering!!” about grace during the gunfight in the living room she’s absolutely ignoring diego getting shot at

what is a rope-a-dope,,,, diego yells “EVER HEARD OF A ROPE-A-DOPE???” at luther but like. no i haven’t. what does that MEAN diego

aww i forgot they played sinnerman, love that song

“what are you doing dude, rumor has it you’re not shooting at me that’s all you need to do” i mean. the roommate is not wrong. allison could just end the fight with a yell. i understand she’s pissed off and has rumor trauma but like cha cha is actively trying to murder them

how is luther not winning he literally has super strength. does hazel have super strength? just punch the man and knock him out jesus y’all suck at this smh

why is there such intense music we all been knew about luther’s strength - oH HIS BODY

forgot about that

is it allison’s fault that klaus got kidnapped because she didn’t literally just rumor them to give up?? like she literally has that power. she could have been like “i heard a rumor you left and forgot about us” it didn’t even need to be violent?? i understand she has rumor trauma but this i feel is allowable circumstances

diego showing his worry about vanya by getting angry which honestly i think all the siblings do that rip none of these idiots have even heard of healthy communication in their LIVES

you know,, i don’t think vanya can drive. she takes the bus. she took a taxi to leonard’s house. we see her walking a lot. does she know how to drive?? i imagine that the umbrella academy were taught bc of mission related stuff but,,, vanya wasn’t?? that’s just depressing tbh

#tua rewatch #i cannot beliEVE she likes pogo so much #pogo was complicit in the hargreeves abuse no i wont change my mind #i would be more likely to forgive him if he didnt keep mentioning how much reginald loved them #pogo fam dont say that #youre just going to feed luthers daddy issues #more to come #i cannot BELIEVE i forgot five got shot/grazed in the arm by a bullet #he slaps a BANDAID OVER IT #right after i said five is better at woundcare than cha cha with the curling iron #he just #slaps a bandaid on it #not even a big bandaid #that motherfucker

71 notes · View notes

ayankun · 4 years ago

Text

Got a lot done today, rewarding self with hsmtmts S1 (who am I kidding, this was going to happen regardless) just starting ep 3, thoughts that contain S2 spoilers below

It's not as awkwardly zany as I feared! I think its mockumentary style is certainly more stylized than it's become, but the jokes still land. Even though some of said jokes are based on their characters' archetypes rather than the people they're going to grow into. What can you do, it's only been an hour of runtime, everything's gonna be different by hour 10.

Gosh the kids are so young! But they're all doing so so so well. I've also now seen an hour or two of cast interviews, and the age differences of the actors is pretty wild. Like I think Frankie is one of the older ones, but for the first time I paid attention and found out Carlos is supposed to be a sophomore like Gina (but now it makes more sense that he's only just turning 16 lolololol)

I'm feeling really bad for Ricky, remembering that his home life troubles are specifically what are causing him to react and over-react and generally be a drama-maker on behalf of the plot. Like on one hand, it's such an interesting choice to have your leading man be the anti-hero of his own story, 'cause he hecks up ALL the time and is sometimes hard to root for, but taking a step back to observe that this is a fiction and everything is designed with intent, Ricky's character isn't really a hero or villain, he's a personification of a message, which is that sometimes you gotta dig deep and identify the root of your problems first before you can start applying beneficial solutions. And you might just keep hecking up until you get there. The stuff with his mom in 2x09 is sosososososo important and a long time coming, the character's going to have to be a different person going forward because he's finally been able to address some of his issues that have been festering since 1x01.

Semi-related, I'll always show up for a good redemption arc. Ricky, the hero, is going to need one! Nini might even get one (1000% I don't believe she needs one, keep self-actualizing, queen!), but anyway the S1 antagonist trio of EJ, Gina, and Mr. Mazzara is so fun/frustrating to watch, knowing that in S2 they're literally all going to become not just protagonists but also my favorite ones.

ALSO seeing evil!Gina and villainous!EJ interact keeps giving me chills. Those poor kids have NO IDEA what they're in for!!!!!

Similarly, Matt Cornett has grown on me a lot. Even first time through, I thought he was the weakest of the cast (lol he's the oldest, he's ridiculously old for that baby face) and just now in One Billion Sorrys I was like, isn't EJ supposed to be leading man material? Why is his performance so bad for comedy reasons? Oh... it's less comedy reasons and more Matt Cornett doing his best? Also why is he so white-washed this season! The makeup they've caked on him makes him look sickly. ANYWAY he's really come a long way, and especially with the stuff they've been giving him in S2, his scenes where EJ's successfully engaging with Gina as a human being are sosososo effective and I'm looking forward to getting back to that point.

Clocking some callbacks S2 has made to S1, like Kourtney talking to Nini about how she's avoiding talking to Ricky about something important and then Ricky comes up, or Nini needing to keep her phone out of the hands of her insecure clingy boyfriends so they don't jealously delete things. EDIT: just finished S1 and there was another major parallel I noticed but since noticing I have somehow forgotten :<<<<< OH COULD IT HAVE BEEN 1x08 is where Ricky and Nini rekindle things and 2x08 is where they call it quits????? (also Ricky getting earth-shattering home & family news on holidays and having to bottle it up b/c someone's on his doorstep and he has to perform Emotional Stability) (found another one, Miss Jenn's "Trust the process" vs Dean Patel's "Trust the outcome.") (Miss Jenn giving Nini a voice and YAC literally taking it away)

I guess also Ricky's mom problem and Nini's decision to put her dreams first were the inciting incidents for these two characters' arcs -- like, the narrative's inciting incident is "I think I kinda you know," and it plays out in the spaces where the Ricky/Nini romance storyline provides conflict for the success-of-the-show storyline, and vice versa, but the CHARACTERS' STORIES are about the mom thing and the dream thing, and are actually the root of all the interpersonal drama.

Not sure that I have a point, it's more of a comment of appreciation.

Another good thing about S2 is that it opens up to include more stories for the supporting cast, kinda like how HSM2 does and makes Ryan your favorite character. So even in retrospect, in S1 my faves are Gina and Mazzara and Seb & Carlos and Ashlyn, and Nini and Ricky are just Also There.

Different thought: my singular major complaint when I watched this the first time was that the show (accidentally? Due to unyielding adherence to the conventions of the genre?) uniformly conflates personal success with romantic success. As in, you know you've finally achieved your dream when you are handed a SO as a trophy. The sole SOLE exception to this in S1 is Kourtney, and look how that's played out in S2. :/ especially since one of my favorite favorite things was Start of Something New recast as Nini's romance-free self-actualization ballad, I really thought that was a premise that would make an appearance s o m e w h e r e in the show. SO IM SO HAPPY THAT'S FINALLY PAID OFF FOR NINI. LIKE IN 2x09 WHERE RICKY'S DROWNING IN HIS UNSHED TEARS AND THEN IT CUTS TO NINI SCROLLING COMMENTS IN HER INSTAGRAM HOLY SHIT. There's a read where she's the bitch or whatever for not being as broken up as Ricky is, but gurrrrrrl this has been her true character aim since day one!!! Her story is not! About! RICKY!!!!!

(I wanted my ace!Taylor HC to magically transfer into Kourtney, whose canon feminist self-affirming character core might prevent her from getting roped into a romance storyline. Like I don't want to begrudge a character a romance plot if that's what the character wants, but GOSH wouldn't it have been cool if this rom-com genre could find room to accommodate aspec stories. ALSO where my trans teens at!!! Fingers crossed, S3.)

In conclusion, I identify with Mazzara what with his autism and his robots and his AV club and his green gingham button-up that I also have; I love love love his look of consternation with himself when he sends that email. 10/10. But also, if we were in high school, I'd have been a grade ahead of his actor sooooo guess that means I'm just a crusty old grandpa

(Started writing this going into ep 3, now I'm headed into ep 6 lololol. HOMECOMING SEBLOS AND DONT WANT NO SCRUBS KOURTNEY CASTLES IN THE SKY MY BELOVEDS)

#hsmtmts #aya's hyperfixated

3 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 5 years ago

Text

if you sent any asks (recommendations for things don’t count as I have to look around!) since october 17 until october 22 it is in here :)

anon said: The header for your askbox response post is *aesthetic*. I think it’s a really good idea to post one every few days if you have the time. ❤️

well, thANK YOUUUUU!!!!! I put in a whopping 10 minutes into it because I had no idea what I was doing! i’ll definitely be doing asks this way now though.

big dick kiri anon said: !!!!!! ILY HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY PLS HYDRATE 💙💙❤️❤️ -bigdickkiri

Omg love! Please don’t worry about kinktober just breathe! Take your time and try to relax 💙❤️- bigdickkiri

DAMN, that is a LOT. Please look after yourself and don't stress about it love!! - bigdickkiri

I'm very excited. BUT PLEASE LOOK AFTER YOURSELF, DO NOT FORCE ANY OF THIS OMG - bigdickkiri

AHH, AMAZING, TALENTED SWEETHEART, GORGEOUS LOVE, HAVE A INCREDIBLE DAY AND HYDRATE - bigdickkiri

I believe I did have a good day, and I am actually super bad at hydrating, buT ILL TRY TO GET BETTER!!!!

I am breathing!!!! JUSTTT BREATHEEEE!!! I am taking my time now and relaxing to the best of my ability :D thank you so much bdk I love you with all my soul

theres always a lot, but if im not doing a lot I dont do anything so on one hand.... it’s okay LMAO but I will continue to try and not stress :D

BDK I WOULD NEVER WANT TO MAKE YOU THINK IM FORCING THIS OUT OF MEEEE ILL TRY MY BEST TO MAKE YOU PROUD

GHSOGHJIAORGJRGIRAHG YOURE AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL, TERRIFIC, INCREDIBLE!!!!!!! YOU HYDRATE AND MAKE SURE YOU KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU

@bread-theduck said: We love you and support you ❤ dont push yourself, your mental health is so much more important that kinktober haha. Take all the time you need, we're right here and open if you wanna talk~

I don’t really try to push myself... it just happens subconsciously D: but thank you for the love and support!!!! my mental health is stronger than I give it credit though

anon said: listen! we all appreciate you and your writing dearly but! I think we can all agree that we want you to be okay mentally and physically before you make yourself write! kinktober can wait! you’re more important!! at the very least, pls take a break for tonight.

I honestly can’t even remember when i said I was tired, but thank you for your kind words regardless!!!! I am trying to get better at it because i don’t want to disappoint you guys D:

@saintbullet said: Please take care of yourself!!! DONT risk your health for writing. We care about you so much! Be careful 💕💕💕

I know I push myself a lot, and i’m really sorry for scaring you all!!!! I am trying though, and it just has a lot to do with my mental fatigue and that im judging some hard classes right now then it has to do with anything

anon said: hey it'll be alright! idk whats wrong but i promise everything will work out like its supposed to! you just take care of yourself and take as much time as you need to feel better!! we love u!! ♥️

It wAS MY PERIOD I REMEMBER NOW AHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOOO WITH ALL THE LOVE MY HEART POSSES!!!!!!

anon said: periods can be a pain so pls take care of yourself!! drink lots of water and rest up!!!

my period is the worst, if she was a person i’d block her and avoid her irl!!!!!!!!

anon said: Lol ok so gay for Mina anon back and no, I was not the anon who requested it. But lmao, let me take this time to whole heartedly thank that anon for quenching my thirst anyways

oh whoops, sorry for thinking you were someone else D: iM GLAD TO SEE THAT YOU WERE HAPPY WITH IT!!! READER WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BAD GUY BUT I COULDN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO MAKE IT WORK LMAO

anon said: I am just planning on hanging out and reading all the lovely writing that comes from this

i’m pretty sure this is about my nsfw/sfw headcanons, and honestly im sooo very excited to start working on them!!!!!!!!

anon said: you have no idea how happy I got when I saw u posted for mina like UGH MY WIFE I LOVE HER SO MUCH 🥺🥺🥺 N GIVING US GAYS AMAZING CONTENT UR AMAZING MWAH MWAH KEEP BEING THE PERFECT ANGEL U ARE 🥺🥺💞💗💖💕💓💝

AHHHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT MINA IS LIKE MY FAV CLASS 1-A GIRL SO I LOVE HER SO MUCHHHHHHHHHHH YOURE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU AND YOURE AN ANGEL!!!!!!!

many a anons said: Sorry I didn’t see the part where you said not to request characters that were already on the list I thought that was the list of character we could vote for.

so sorry I accidentally sent a character in that has already been requested, Tumblr didn't show me the follow up posts ;;

nooo I didn’t see the list I’m so sorry 😭😭😭

LOL ITS OKAYYYY. y’all were hoes and kept sending me shouto who I couldn’t even think about deleting from my list... so... you are lucky >:(

anon said: hello! not a request here but take care of yourself anc stay hydrated bb 🥰🥰

I got my water right next to me rn bby :D

anon said: be todoroki’s girlfriend

bitch I am todorokis WIFE, why would I need to dress up???

@girl-with-a-mentality said: You can be todoroni for Halloween.

....you right...

anon said: Thirst post infoo ;3 I found a doujinshi of Bakugo being teased and toyed with sexually with by Ochako, Yaomomo, and our lovely momma Mina

...send it

anon said: GIRLLLLLL

ANONNNNNNNNNNNNN ;)

local dumbass anon said: local dumbass is here once again, i thiink you know who i am and might've found my ig buuuuuut..?

uh.... I don’t know???????? I only followed people on insta if you gave me your handle or followed me first.... also did you cut your bangs?

anon said: Your Monoma scenario was really good!If we’re being honest, though, Monoma would literally start foaming at the mouth if he saw anyone from 1-A making physical contact with his s/o, ESPECIALLY Bakugou. They would have to call animal control because there would be a rabid Monoma in the dorms lol

okay... while you’re not wrong, I just thought 18 year old monoma should have grown up just the tiniest bit! plus his obsession is controlled because of his insecurity so LMAO IDK I JUST THOUGHT MAYBE UGH

@awkward-theaterkid said: I was reading your Day 19 Fic but I couldnt take it seriously, the title "My Way" kept reminding me of the Backstreet Boys "I want it that way" and it keeps popping up while I read it 😂

as someone who only heard that song because of b99 I read this and immediately thought of b99 LMAOOOOO

🍒💥anon said: URGENT PSA: LYSSA IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND I LOVE HER -🍒💥

Hello Queen Lyssa, I finally read "And They Were Roommates" and have absolutely no idea why I put it off so long! ITS A MASTERPIECE. Each chapter is addictive and the slow burn and angst destroyed me 😭 The smut in the final chapter is flawless and sooooooooooooooooooo H O T. Shoto wasnt even my favorite character but he might have to be now (or at least in my top 3) 😰 This is my new favorite series and I cant wait to re-read it!!!! YOURE AMAZING AND ILY. You own my soul now -🍒💥

URGENT PSA I LOVE YOU CHERRY EXPLOSION AND YOURE AMAZING :D

ATWR holds a special place in my heart uwu.... HAOGHIOSRGSIOGJSIHG THANK YOU!!!!! SHOUTO IS AN AMAZING CHARACTER WHO I LOVE WITH ALL MY HEARRTTTTTT

~ thank you to @didyoumeanme, @kittenlordofdarkness, @soafers for submitting memes and animal pics for my rommate, much appreciated :D ~

anon said: Did the local dumbass anon ever cut their bangs? Do you know?

....I dont know, but I just asked her rn >:)

this paragraph is dedicated to those surrounding to the meltdown mess that occurred yesterday. to each and every one of you who sent me kind words via my askbox or directly contacting me, thank you. I really want to move past this because I feel by holding on it will make me feel less inclined to write because of my guilt. of course, I do not expect you to forgive me, or trust me in my story of how it went down, because at the end of the day it was my mistake for trusting in someone to write with pure intentions when I didn’t know if she could. im trying to continue on with my best foot forward and im grateful for those of you who trusted in me. I swear I will never push myself again, and that I will instead take my time in order to publish my original work and only my original work and not take anything that comes from a “friend”. know that I love you all, and I dont know how to take it easy so my break lasted a whooping 10 hours, and my blog won’t discontinue until im done with bnha or...I get into medschool which is still 3 years away, I am taking care of myself, im staying hydrated, im trying not to put myself down anymore, I will keep going, & will forever continue to be more careful with what I post. also, no one was really coming for me, so don’t worry if you thought so lol. (to you 9 anons who expressed their kind thoughts to me, thank you. to big dick kiri anon thank you. to @bqkubabey, @flayvus, & @ultimate-shit-poster thank you so so much you really helped me not drown myself in my own guilt.)

anon said: i hope you’re feeling okay today :((

I am feeling a lot better. unfortuantely I did make myself really sick yesterday because ive never been as stressed in my life ever, but im okay now. there’s nothing I can do more for what happened so I will try to continue on as best as I can and I appreciate you caring... ilysm :)

@ikinabi said: Your writing??? Actually god sent 🥵👌 and the way you write Mirio gets me GOING

BAHAHAH NOOOOO ITS NOT PLAFUAOGHJIPRAHAR MY MIRIO PIECE YOU LIKED WAS MY FIRST PIECE ON HIM AND OOO BOY I DID NOT DO HIM JUSTICE

anon said: fuck buddy iida is a thought that has never crossed my mind but now that i’ve seen your post i am intrigued haha

well... it is up :) if you wanna check her out :)

anon said: You dont have to answer if you dont wanna but i just wanna see if your okay. I hope your end your doing well and not stressing.

i’m doing much better than I was yesterday!!! I just needed to rest and calm down and stop attacking myself. thank you for checking in!!! it means so much :,)

#ask lyssa anything #lyssa doesnt shut up #anonymous

41 notes · View notes

boy-who-never-grew-up · 5 years ago

Text

MGG smut plz dont read this

“Oh what-can-it mean to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen“ I sing as the songs ends “Cheer up sleepy jean”

Claps come from the drunken maybe 30 or so people at the karaoke bar. I take an overzealous bow and try to keep my balance. The room spins slightly as I stand straight up. The DJ loudly announces the next singer and song as I walk back to my group of friends. They give another drunken round of applause and compliments all around, even though I really butchered the last verse in “Sleepy Jean”. I feel my best friend yank on my arm and pull me closer to her face.

“Look who came in half way through..” She pointed vaguely across the bar at a group of people, none of which whom I knew. “Tonight is your night, I told you. Did I not?”

As she talks eagerly in my ear, I look deeper into the crowd. I remain unsure of what the fuck she’s talking about. I quickly sweep over and over again, looking for a familiar face, but I find none.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I stop her mid-ramble.

“It’s what’s his nuts... You know from the show you watch- not Law & Order the other one... What’s his fuckin’ name the tall cute one.” She yells into my ear, as if I’ll understand her better the louder she is.

“Matthew Gray Gubler?” I ask.

“YES! I knew his name, damn. Yes! He’s here, he walked in half way through your song.” She excitedly gets her point across and tugs on my arm.

“No fucking way, you’re wrong.” I scoff at her.

There’s no way he’s here. I try to look again, but now there are more people at the bar in the way of whoever was there before. She pulls me about two feet to our left and positions our heads just right and points across the room; much more specific now.

On the other side of the room, by the bar and near the wall, I see a man with curly hair with a drink in his hand by his mouth, but like he was too enthralled with what his response would be to whoever is talking to him so he couldn’t take a drink. He smiled wide as he listened, and I watched for a second or two as he gave his response, they both laughed, and he finally took a drink.

“Fack.” I spoke bluntly “Fucking shit dude.”

“You have to talk to him, I’m not giving you the option. This is happening.” My friend spoke, still attached to my arm with excitement.

“He’s probably here with someone.” I immediately excuse.

“He’s literally not. Oh my- listen, all you gotta do is talk to him. The worst that happens is you get turned down.” She refutes “This is a one time chance, and you’ll regret it if you don’t do it”

Anxiety rises in my chest through my stomach as I watch him and his friends move to the open pool table. I feel like my fucking mouth is sweating and like there’s no way that I’m gonna be able to go over there and say anything to him.

“Plus, you’ve been saying you wanna try to hoe it up a little. this is the perfect time. Vacation, bar, pretty guy.” She grabs my chin and turns my face to her to make demanding eye contact “You look extremely hot tonight. Your ass- looks great in those jeans, I cant stop staring. Literally, everywhere we have been I’ve had to keep the guys off of you. You’re the one in charge here.”

She speaks with such confidence and power. She raises her eyebrows at me as if to say “Are you gonna go fucking do it?” So I take a big huff and ball up my fists and turn to start walking over. I’m suddenly feeling how actually drunk I am, and if I wasn’t so drunk, that would make me nervous that I’m gonna look like a complete idiot. I suddenly realize that I have no game plan and the drink I’m holding is just ice at this point. I’m about ten feet away and there’s no stopping because it is now very clear that I was actively making my way across the room to this specific spot. I’m physically shaking at this point where I walk up right behind him as he leans over the pool table. I watch as he misses his shot and stands back up. I take a deep breath and let it out as I step up next to him and look up to smile.

“Hi.” I say, hopefully loud enough for him to hear.

“Oh, hello.” He says back to me and smiles.

There’s silence for a second, he looks back to his friends taking their turns, and back to me.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I blurt out, after what seems like holding it in for minutes in silence.

“Ah,” He looks at his half empty drink and back to me “Sure. You heading to the bar?”

He points to the bar, and honestly, I’m just surprised I made it this far.

“Yeah!’ I respond, trying to keep my cool.

We both take off in direction of the bar and I am mentally trying to sober myself up to walk a straight line. As we reach the bar, he turns to me and immediately reaches out his hand to shake it.

“I’m Matthew.”

I shook his hand and gave him my name with a smile.

“What are you drinking?” I ask him, pointing to his drink.

“Ah, whatever seasonal beer this is.” He twists his bottle to look at the label, and then turns it for me to see as well “What about you?”

“Gin and tonic.” I say and raise my drink a little.

“Oh, wow. You look really young for a sixty year old dad.” He dead pan says to me.

My jaw drops with a hint of a smile. I feel a wave of peace come over me as we both laugh and I defend my drink choices.

“Cheap beer seems to get the job done for me.” He says and takes another drink.

“I can’t help that I just have a refined palette.” I tease.

He nods towards his friends to gesture that we I follow him, as he turns to walk back to his friends.

“Are those your friends?” He points to the group of girls I came with who are now walking up to do a karaoke song together.

“Oh gosh, they really are drunk.” I say as “Ice Ice Baby” comes on over the speakers.

He laughs and leans down slightly to say to me “Are you not?”

I giggle and turn to look at him as I say “I mean yeah, but not group Ice Ice Baby drunk.”

He smiles at me and grabs the pool stick he had earlier and steps up to take his shot.

“They’re about to fuckin’ kill it though just watch.” I add in.

He misses his shot, hands the pool stick to his partner, then grabs his friends attention and introduces me to them and vice versa. I smile and wave extra awkwardly and sip at my drink which is starting to only taste like lime and not gin.

“Are you gonna do another song?” He crosses his arms and looks at me before looking back at my friends going hard to “Ice Ice Baby”.

“Uh, yeah I think so. I’m still trying to decide what song I wanna do.”

I watch as my friends start to get sloppy at the mic and laugh a little. Matthew speaks to me again, but this time he’s much closer than before. He cranes down a little to listen and speak to me.

“What are your choices?” He asks.

I dare not turn to look at him lest his face be close enough for me to analyze under the dim bar lights and see the color of his eyes. I keep my eyes on the group of girls at the front rapping their hearts out.

“I’m thinking What’s Up by 4 Non Blondes or maybe I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston.” I say loudly.

“Ooh, throw backs. I love it.” I can hear his laugh much clearer now

“You should do 4 Non Blondes, if you care what I think.” He adds that last part as he stumbles over his recommendation.

Smart. Also, good suggestion. I smile and nod.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” I say coolly and step forward to walk to the DJ.

I’m freaking out that I’m actually maintaining this casual courtship so fuckin’ well. He seems to want to talk to me, which is amazing, and I’m not tripping over my feet or stumbling over my words. I can feel my cheeks tighten as I smile walking towards the DJ booth. I wait as the last song finishes and I am handed a mic to head out. All through the song, all I can think is that he’s watching me. Normally I like the attention, but right now I feel nervous-like when you’re forced to participate in something as a child. I try to relax and get into the song. I close my eyes and after awhile it’s just me and the music. I do my best, even give a little bit of a performance. I do another bow as the song ends and smile. I look up to see him standing in the back smiling and clapping. My heart races as he smiles wider when my eyes catch his. I hand the mic back to the DJ and walk back towards him. I left my drink at his table, irresponsible around strangers I know, but I had felt like I needed a reason to come back to him. I walk past my table and give one friend a high five and my best friend smacks my butt as I pass. She grabs my arm and stops me before I walk away.

“If we all need to crash in their room so you can have our room at the hotel, that’s fine. I can stay with them tonight. I am in all support of this.” She whispers in my ear.

I smile and thank her for her kind idea as I continue my walk back towards that tall tall man.

“Hey! That was great!” he perks up as I near him.

Nervously, he raises his hands and I don’t think initially he knew what he was doing, but I didn’t either. We both end up double high fiving and then awkwardly looking away because we both knew that was so fucking stupid. I grab my drink and make sure to thank him for the compliment before I sip.

“What did your friend say into your ear? Looked like she was gonna rip your arm off.” He says as he finally turns back to me.

I take a breath and turn back to him to make eye contact.

“She heavily implied some very inappropriate things.” I smile and take another drink.

“Oh! That’s super awesome.” He says blankly.

“She’s very set and steady that I take you back to my hotel tonight.” I said honestly “However, I literally have never gone up to a man and bought him a drink at a bar and I’m just not sure that I could really get myself to a place that I could do that.”

“Well, you’ve already done the hard part right? Taking initiative. I’ve never had a girl by me a drink before, surprisingly. I’ve had some ask if I could buy them a drink. So, it’s a first time for me too.” He reassures me.

“Is that something that you would want to do? Take me to your hotel room?” He says as he sets his beer at the table with my drink and leans on it, facing me directly.

“I’m not really sure. I feel like there’s so much to disclose before something like that but the bar isn’t the best place to do it.” I reply honestly.

He scrunches his nose and nods “I totally get it. I don’t feel like I have to tell you but, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“Well,” I start before taking a sip of my drink “Is that something you would want to do? Go back with me?”

“Do you wanna have another drink? We could sit down when I’m done with this pool game.” He replies.

“Actually, I need to drink some water.” I shrug “I have to make ‘responsible decisions’“

I pfft my tongue at that and smile.

“Who says?” He laughs as he responds.

“I do, actually.” I blush and look down at my drink, away from his smiling face.

“Well, do you wanna sit down over a couple waters then?” He suggests.

I look back at him and smile and nod. I wait as he finishes the pool game, every so often coming back and standing by me to talk to me. Occasionally, my friends would wave me down and give me extremely obvious thumbs up and gestures to check my phone.

I roll my eyes and give in and check my phone.

:“you need the room or nah? we tryna to head back”

I huff and look up at Matthew. It couldn’t hurt right? It’s once in a lifetime thing, I have to.

:”I think so, but we’re gonna hang out a lil more”

:”k we’ll get anotha drink then call the lyft.”

:”Okay”

I set my phone down on the table and look up to the opposing team taking the winning shot. Matthew drops his shoulders and pouts for a second, but quickly moves on to come stand by me.

“I’ll be right back.” He says and sets his half empty bottle down at the table and walks towards the bar.

I fidget with my nails as I wait, nervously. He seems sweet, and he seems to be just as awkward as me. As confident as it must seem to offer him a drink, I feel so small and dumb. He clearly came here with his friends to play pool and now I’ve ruined that.

As I worry through my thoughts, he comes back to the table and sets down two large glasses of ice water. Luckily, he’s good at sparking questions and the conversation went on pretty well. He’s very awkward but somehow it makes me feel comfortable. We talk about pets and coffee and youtube videos and it goes well. Really, not what I had expected from trying to pick someone up from a bar. He asks for pictures of my pets and of course I show him. We talk about classic rock and our favorite bands. Comparing oldies and swooning over Bright Eyes. We sip through the remainder of our drinks and keep going on about music. At about a third of water left, somehow religion gets brought up religion and other beliefs. At water empty, it started getting deep. Bringing up childhood trauma and dealing with death.

I look over at my friends and they are standing around as if they’re waiting. I dismiss myself quickly and head over to them.

“Hey, you guys can go...” I interrupt.

Shrieks of shock and joy come from them but I try to shush them as much as possible.

“Listen, I’m not promising anything will happen. But, I’m going to stay and chat with him a bit. I’ll get another Lyft.”

They all smile and tease me. I give them hugs and send them off as they spew warnings about men and encourage me to have fun.

“Looks like you missed your ride.” I jump as Matthew speaks next to me.

“Oh, uh yeah. They’re gonna head out, I just wanted to hang out a little more...” I excuse.

“Those things you wanted to disclose... “ He turned to look at me “We can get an Uber, is that a good place to talk?”

My heart thumps through my chest as I look him in the eyes. He has another cup of water in a paper cup in his hand and the Uber app open in his other.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that would be fine.” I stumble out.

“Are you sure? I mean, we can just share the ride back nothing has to happ-”

“Yes, I would like to. I want to.” I cut him off.

“Cool, well, we have like fifteen minutes until the Uber is here. Did you want another water?” He offers the cup in his hand with a smile.

“Sure, thanks.” I say as I take the cup.

We both kind fall silent as we wait. Like everything to be said here at the bar has been said. The next dialogue is to be in the car. The disclosure. We’re in the loading screen. I spend a little time peeing in the bathroom and checking my makeup. The rest I spend internally panicking. Not in a “I don’t wanna do this” way but more like “There’s no way this is really happening” way. Occasionally, we would catch each others eye contact and blush and smile. It feels good to know that he is just as nervous as I am.

*In the car*

“Let’s disclose this foreclosure!” Matthew declares as we get on the road.

“I don’t think that makes sense.” I tease.

“Yeah, y’know I tried. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah I know what you mean.” I mumble.

The car is so quiet compared to the bar. The late night empty roads seem deafeningly silent. I try not to look him in the eye again. There’s so much I want to say, but how does one even say them?

“So?....” He starts.

“So?” I stall.

“What did you wanna talk about?” He pushes.

“I’m not... Well, I’ve never just hooked up with someone.. I guess.. Like, outside of a relationship, and just really have never had an experience that I was satisfied with. There’s so much I want, but I’ve never had someone to give that to me, y’know.” I can feel that I’m definitely still pretty buzzed and saying things is coming rather easy once the first word comes out.

He smiles as he watches me explain my predicament.

“Yeah, I’m not really one to really go home with people from bars either so we’re on the same boat there.” He reassures me.

I can see his eyes watching me intently. Watching my lips intently. As I talk I feel my words being seen. He licks his lips once as he listens.

“I just feel like, if I’m gonna hook up with someone, I should go all out right? Trying to mix your body with someone’s that you don’t even know seems complicated. I feel like it’s trial and error and time, and all I’ve ever been is dissatisfied.”

“Anything else?” He says quietly, still not breaking his stare.

At this point we’re both facing each other in the back seat, nearly dismissing the middle seat entirely.

“I don’t think I can promise I won’t catch feelings for you.” I say finally, letting out my breath as I do.

He pauses for a second, I don’t think he even breathes, but he says “I’m fine with that.”

Before I know it, the gap between us is closing. He moves in hastily like he’s been craving to kiss me. I bring my hand to his cheek and kiss him back. He lays one hand on my neck and the other on my hip as he almost pushes me back in my seat, hungrily stealing kisses. I hold his hand that lay on my neck and snake my other arm around his neck. We keep kissing as the ride goes on. Going back and forth between peppering kisses on each others lips to overwhelming amounts of open mouth exploration. His right hand slides down and over my chest, and though I’m holding his hand, I can tell he didn’t just move there for convenience. If I wasn’t buckled in, he would have me on his lap right now. Which is really where I wanted to be.

The car ride felt both too short and too long. Making out in the backseat is a world I could get lost in. Ahead, in the hotel I need to be ready to get real. Making out in the backseat is easy and actually hooking up with someone is complicated. I could stay in this sweet bliss forever,.

As the car rolled up to the hotel doors, we parted lips. I go to pull away but he holds me in place for a moment.

“I want you to know... I promise I won’t disappoint you.” He tells me, softly and kindly.

After we get out of the car, Matthew runs around to meet me and we walk into the lobby together. Down the hall, away from the front desk, he grabs my hand and leads me. He kisses my hand before pulling me in to kiss me on the mouth again.

“Fuck, I really like kissing you.” He says as he smiles against my lips.

“We’re almost to the room.” I try.

“Which one is it?” He asks, in between kisses.

“Next one on the left.”

“You have the key?” He asks, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer.

I push the key into his hand then, to my surprise, he literally sweeps me off my feet. Okay, maybe not literally. With his arm tightly around my waist, when he stands, my feet come off the floor. He unlocks the door and ushers us inside. He tosses the key card and drops me onto the edge of the bed. He plops down beside me and immediately grabs my face and begins kissing me again. Through this, he sloppily takes off the flannel he has on top of his pink t-shirt and tosses it across the room onto the desk. This time, he pushes his fingers back into my hair and I wrap my hands around his wrists. He pulls away to speak, but he stays close and doesn’t open his eyes. The glimpse of him that I catch he looks breathless. Like drinking a full glass of water after a drought.

“You said that there’s so much you want...” He says slowly “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble “I’m all over the place man.”

He kisses me again before he speaks “How about...” Another kiss “I can start off, y’know, in charge...” Another kiss “And when you feel comfortable,” Another “You can do whatever you want..”

His kisses stray from my lips and down my chin. Over my my neck and to rest on my shoulder. Here stayed many, placed tenderly. I feel him rest his head against me, his hot breath wafting down my chest.

“We’ve got the room all night, right?”

My fucking heart stops. This won’t be disappointing.

“Yes.” I say in almost a whisper.

“Yes you want me to take charge or yes we have the room all night?” He sits upright, away from me.

My body reacts to him pulling away, too soon. I catch myself from reaching out after him.

“Yes to both.” I agree.

“Sweet.” he nods “I have promises to fulfill.”

He gently pushed me back to lay down, slowly looming over me as I do. His hand runs down my chest, my stomach, and to my hip. He leans down to kiss me, but only once before layering kisses down my chest to the edge of my shirt. He slides down to rest on his stomach and pushes my shirt up slowly, followed by a trail of kisses. He breathes slowly against my skin as the shirt moves higher and higher up my chest. I finally take the liberty of just removing the shirt to get it out of the way. He re-positions himself again, on his knees, leaning on his right arm and his other underneath me, reaching at the bra clasp. Just as I thought hungry Matthew was gone, he pulls the bra off completely and immediately presses his mouth to my chest. Wet, soft, and suckled kisses wander across my breasts and quickly turn to starved rough kisses and light bites of skin. He moves down over my stomach, taking time adjust to the curves and rolls of my body, before laying a fully contacted wet one onto my skin.

At the top of my jeans he stops, resting his head against my skin and pulls at the sides of my pants.

“These looked great on you, but now they gotta go.” He mumbles.

Swiftly unbuttoning my pants, he continues to lay kisses on my exposed skin. He large hands pull at the sides of my jeans, this time successful, and pulled then down over my legs, off my feet, and tossed them to the floor. I feel the rumble as he lets out a whiny groan against my stomach.

“Tell me to stop whenever.” He says as he pulls down my underwear, slowly, all the way off my legs.

“Please, don’t stop.” I say in a hushed voice, already ashamed of what I wanted from him.

I can feel him smile against my skin as he begins to press kisses to my thigh.

“I like that ‘please’.” He kisses further in, where leg meets body.

I feel his tongue glide up my bikini line and over the bare skin near my hips.The chill tickles me and my body tenses one degree more. He sits upright, still holding my leg, at the ankle now and rubs his other hand down my leg.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, okay?” He asks softly “But I wanna hear you say please.”

He kisses my ankle and holds his lips there, waiting for my response.

I pause for a moment, wondering what exactly I should say. A jumbled murmur of unfinished asks stream out of my mouth.

“Yes, please... I want you to. I want to. Please.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, lips still pressed to my ankle “don’t have to ask me twice”

I brace my nerves as he kisses up my leg and slides his tongue up into the folds of my pussy. He places a wet kiss at my clit before running his tongue down, around, and inside me. I hide my face with my arms, and try to steady my breath. I feel his arm that’s not wrapped around my thigh slide up my stomach and his hand grasps mine.

“Hey,” he pulls his mouth away from my wetness, and kisses my tummy once “Uncover your face.”

He pulls my hand away from my face and intertwines his fingers into mine.

“I want you to look at me.” He says, with sweet nurturing eyes as he leans his cheek against my thigh.

He kisses my leg with the side of his mouth as I take a breath and uncover my face to meet his eyes. He never breaks eye contact as he goes back down on me. I watch intently, trying to control my facial reactions, as he utilizes his whole tongue and head movements to pleasure me. I can’t help but whine as I watch him so intently do his best to make me feel good. Every time his tongue touches my clit, I flinch and tense, leaving behind a trail of “Oh”s and “Ah”s. I try desperately, but it’s so hard to keep my eyes on his when all I want to do is close my eyes and lean my head back. Not to mention, it feels so vulnerable, him watching me as I come undone. As I feel a tension in my stomach begin to rise, I hide my face once more with my free hand. I feel his touch get lighter and I can hear his soft pleading voice, in between sweet sultry kisses.

“Relax, okay?” he begs me.

I nod, still hiding my face and mumble “I know, I’m just embarrassed.”

“Hey,” he whispers once again as he hovers up to kiss my face.

“I love this,” his hand that holds mine pulls down over his jeans and atop his hardening cock “Trust me. Please don’t be embarrassed.”

He lets go of my body and stands upright on his knees. I watch as he slowly lifts his shirt over his head and off his body. He tosses it to the ground and quickly undoes his pants. He pushes them down and awkwardly struggles to get them all the way off, and even more so as he tries to toss them away. I giggle a little as I watch him. Even on his knees he towers over me but he’s so soft that it’s calming. When he finally draws his attention back to me, a big smile crosses his face. We both take a second to just laugh a little. He licks his lips, and my eyes start to wander down his body. His sharp shoulders and thin frame. The muscles on his arms tense in pulses and his hands, making their way back to my body, feel like they encompass all of my skin whole. I can feel every joint in his skinny hands as as squeezes my waist a few times before descending back to my body.

His mouth quickly goes back to work, kissing my pussy like he was so desperately kissing my mouth earlier. I let myself watch him, but I let myself enjoy it too. I watch his bare shoulders and neck, tensing every time he moves his head. I let out a shaky moan as he hums against my core and loudly makes out with my body. My moans grow louder with every flick of his tongue and it sets me off more when I hear him begin to moan from his own pleasure he derives from getting me off. Any sense of fear and holding back, leaves me body as I can feel the energy rising within me. Finally, I tangle my fingers in his messy curly hair and hope he doesn’t mind that I pull on it as he begins to bring me to my climax.

“Oh, oh.” I whine “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

He laughs between strokes of his tongue and continues the movement he was doing, but slightly faster than before. I ball my fists in his hair and cross my ankles on his back. My hips begin to lightly roll against his face and the sound of him begins to fade way in a mess of my own cries. His left hand comes around and pulls my hand from his hair and intertwines our fingers. My legs tense around his head as I spill over unto ecstasy in a heap of praise and a chorus of “Yes, yes, yes!”. When I squeeze my hand around his, he squeezes back and I don’t let go until I can finally relax and let my breath flow.

I let out breathy whines as he kisses up my torso and back to my lips. He kisses me like before and I can taste myself on his tongue.

“Fuck,” he says between kisses “You’re amazing.”

“You definitely didn’t disappoint.” I whisper in his ear as a tease and leave a kiss at the top of his jawline.

I begin to kiss his neck, and it’s salty from the small sweat he worked up pleasuring me.

“Well, I’m not done yet.” He mumbles, clearly distracted by my kisses.

He pulls himself closer to me, his chest on mine, and I can feel his erection underneath his underwear. I can’t help but moan, knowing that he’s hard from eating me out and feeling his full size against me. He shivers and I lay a few bites on his skin. I push his underwear down as he wraps his arms around me and leans his full weight on top of me.

"Do you want me?" He mutters in my ear.

"Yes, fuck yes I want you." I reply, desperately.

I tried to hold onto his shoulders but as he pulled away to align himself with me my hands landed in his hair. I tighten my grip as he enters me, letting out his own moan of satisfaction.

"Fuck," our stomachs brush together as he pushes into me "Fuck, it's tight."

He lets out more of a cry in a shaky breath as he lays his face to rest in my neck. He says it's tight, but I'm not sure that he's not just bigger than what we were both accounting for.

His arms hold tight around my body and he forms a rhythm, pulling in and out of me, pushing deeper everytime. He fills me completely but I don't think he's even all the way in. The thought of him is ravishing, but feeling him actually pumping in and out of me is making me delirious.

"Ah, ah," he moans into my neck "Fuck, you feel so good "

He starts pushing in harder, trying to fit his length inside. His right arm snakes up my body and his hand onto my hair. He pulls my head back as far as I can lean it, and bites my trap near my neck. With every stroke, he gets harder and harder, still yanking on my hair for momentum. His breathing dampens my neck as he pants with his movements. I can see his contorted face, nose scrunched and eyes shut tight, mouth hanging open letting all his moans spill out.

All at once, with his hand still in my hair and on my back, he flips me over on top of him. He lets both hands rest holding my ass, pulling me in the same rhythm he was before. I barely have to do any work as he moves my hips to make me fuck him. His right hand lines up my torso, pushing me to sit upright, and he massages my breast in his palm. He watches me for a second as I try my best to keep my hips moving. Then, again, he picks up my weight and sits up, pulling himself out of me. He kisses me once, tenderly before speaking.

"Turn around." He says against my lips.

I don't hesitate to respond to his demands, I turn around and lean down on my knees and elbows, widening my legs as much as possible. With one hand pressed into my back above my ass, and the other pulling on my hips, Matthew pounds into me. I bury my head in my hands and let him take what he wants. Listening to him unravel because of me raises tension inside. I cry out for him to go faster and without answering, he does. Strings of curses and praises drip from his lips like honey. I can tell he loves being inside me.

He pants faster and faster and stumbles over his words. His pace becomes unsteady and sloppy and I can tell he's gonna cum. His arms wrap around my body, his hands holding onto my opposing hip and shoulder, holding me in just the right spot for him to pump in and out of me a little more before he climaxes. Listening to him, I feel my peak rise and take over. I hold onto to his arms and stretch as I feel it pulse through my body. As I slowly loosen, I feel Matthew reach his climax as well, burying his head in the crook of my neck. I can feel his open mouth breath on my skin as he catches back up with oxygen. I run one hand up and through his hair, pulling him closer to kiss him on the face.

"You're amazing ..." I whisper to him.

He takes a deep breath and lets out a tiny moan against my skin.

"I keep my promises." He says lazily.

#mine #original #dzire original #plz dont read this

4 notes · View notes

tenpin-boleyn · 6 years ago

Text

Rebellious Parr at School!

These were thought up by @wolfies-chew-toy and I- mostly MB- because Cathy going through teenage rebellion is I C O N I C

There are some teenage Anne in here too but mostly our girl Cathy P 🖤

Also I’m sorry about the length- I’m on mobile so I can’t add a read more :)

•Anne got her heelys confiscated, so she decided to sandpaper the bottom of her shoes so she can slide around like a penguin. No wheels? No problem.

•Catherine being the feminist icon that all teachers fear:

“NO I AM NOT READING ROMEO AND JULIET AS ITS A DEROGATORY REPRESENTATION OF WOMEN AND SHOULD BE TREATED AS SUCH”

Then Catherine promptly gets removed from the class.

“Catherine don’t you have English right now?”

“Don’t you have your funeral!!.... oh my god Mrs lynn I’m so sorry” because Cathy is a badass but she still has feelings

•Confusing the teachers on a daily basis:

"Hitler is kinda like Kim Jong Un dont you think?"

"Miss Parr and Miss Seymour what are you talking about?"

"Miss, isn't Kim Jong Un rather like Hitler?"

"Please stop discussing your Kpop idols in my class."

•The school has different colors led name tags for the different years, eg. Seventh year, yellow, eighth year green etc.

You can bet your ass Parr has a name tag in each colour and wears them all at once. It ranges from her actual name to Catradora. She has a name tag that just says CatParr420 and wears it everywhere.

And 90% of the time she wears a blank one and carries around a marker

“Umm excuse me what’s your name?”

Which prompts Cathy to draw on a fake name.

“Anita Willtolive”!

•She draws penises on all the whiteboards of every class she enters in permanent marker.

•One time the school used a drone to film the morning assembly and the noise annoyed Cathy so much she picked her book from morning reading up and h u r l e d it at the drone.

All you can hear before the recording stops is “YEET”

Did she get detention? Yes

Was it worth it? HELL YES

•You can bet your bottom dollar that Anne is in that detention too.

Anne's reasons for detention range from stuff like chatting to general shenaniganery but Cathy is just oPEN DEFIANCE

•She only is nice to her classmates

•And selected teachers

•She's a dick to everyone else

•But if she sees a kid on their own she’ll go out of her way to be lovely to them and to that one annoying teacher she hates, she’s a hell raiser

•She once moved the empty table next to her desk away to the other end of the class to stop teachers from sitting next to her- whilst the teacher was trying to sit at said desk.

•Catherine openly questioning EVERYTHING

“But if everyone is only nice to get into heaven surely that defeats the purpose and they’re being fake”

•She would fall asleep in front of the teacher

She'd just yell goodnight really loudly and knock out on her desk

•Honestly it’s a wonder she hasn’t been kicked out, but Jane thinks it’s because her grades bring up the school average

•She does her homework the moment she gets it and is finished by the end of the day

•Anne just puts in her file and lets it rot

•Parr gets in trouble for handing in Anne’s homework that Parr did but Anne has no idea. Cathy just wanted to make sure she didn’t fail

•Anne teaches Parr how to get discounts in the cafeteria, because Parr needs free cookies.

•Parr is Anne's defender when it comes to detentions

•She gives the teacher her Stare™️ and they instantly clam up

•Their detention desks are side by side and they have like those partners in crime necklaces but instead of two halves on their necklaces they’re carved into the tables

They they put them together they just line up

“Parr scares all the teachers except the German teacher who is literally Satan.

•Anne looks scary but she is basically harmless

•Parr looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly but given the chance she would 100% bite her teacher's hand off

•Anne has like five piercings and the messiest uniform in existence while Parr has only one piercing in each ear and the neatest uniform in existence but the moment Parr opens her mouth you better run

•She once bit a first year because they got in her way

•Cross any of Parr's friends or Parr herself and you might as well drop out because you'll be on a hit list for your whole education career

•She’s got a little black book of people that’s annoyed her because eventually she forgets but she’s too petty to let her memory get the better of her

•Anne has been on it at least once but Parr always strikes her name out

•She once kicked Parr in the stomach trying to show off her sandpapered shoes

•The shoe flew off and hit Parr in the stomach

She would have screamed at Anne but Anne’s puppy dog eyes are irresistible

Especially at 12 years old because she’s literally a baby

Like not even in a sexual way, you just can’t say no to those eyes

•Seymour has also been on the list once

But Parr got her revenge

What did Seymour do? She keeps taking Parrs highlighters

So Parr makes her pay money for every time she uses her highlighters

And one day a teacher sees and thinks it’s a drug deal

Every late payment is + 1 quid

Jane knows better than to accumulate late payments because Parr is ruthless when it comes to money

•When a classmate lost Parrs calculator and didn't pay her back, Parr literally carved owe money pay money onto her desk and got that person's friends to remind them daily till they paid her back

•Every time that person saw Parr in the hallways they'd turn around and head the other direction

•Tardies don't matter when the most trigger-happy person in school is out for your blood

•The day that she’s sat next to Parr in the seating plan is the day she moves schools

•Even then Parr still tracks her down

•She waits for them at the school gate with the most murderous smile on her face

•You just see Anne behind her chewing gum, snapping her fingers and doing jazz hands

•And the person is rapidly dialing their parents while screaming MOM COME PICK ME UP I'M SCARED

•Suddenly Aragon pulls up with the others and shouts at the pair “get in losers we’re going shopping”

"How the hell did you even find them Cathy?"

"I just followed the smell of crippling debt and it led me here."

“No seriously how?”

“Anne never turns her snapmaps off”

•Also Parr made the PE teacher cry more than once. More than twice. Okay it was 27 times.

•Parr has a pen knife and people try to confiscate it but she just brings out a printed sheet of paper that says that “a knife may be carried as a self defence weapon if it is under 9 inches and is retractable”

•She made the history teacher quit.

•One time she threatened to give someone salmonella because they were giving Anne and Kat a hard time

•Both Anne and Kat are in special ed and someone thought it'd be funny to bully them cuz of it

•She was skipping class in the toilets and two girls walk in and start bad mouthing Anne and Kitty so she kicks open her door and looks at them whilst sucking a lolly pop “hello bitches say goodbye to ur eyebrows”

•Parr is super defensive of the two of them

•She teases them sure but if anyone else tries, they have to sleep with one eye open

•Anne and Kat don't understand why people keep coming up and apologizing to them

•When they ask Parr, she just shrugs and smiles

•Parr used to be super motivated back in year seven. When year eleven rolled around, she became a little more rebellious, first the name tags, then the mouthing off. Then it escalated further and further. No one else but Parr and Anne knows what happened to cause this change

•Parr is soft for Anne and Kat and Anne and Kat alone

•She roughs up Aragon, Seymour and Cleves bc she knows they can take it. She's soft when she needs to be and not many people see that side of her

•Her favourite teachers rarely see that side either. Only during teacher's day when she sneaks into the staffroom to give them homemade cookies

•Parr wears leather jackets to class and no one dares question her.

•Anne learnt Chinese and how to play the guitar during detention so that she could sing for Parr the next time they had a session together

•Anne singing Unchained Melody exactly like in ghost the musical, and does the little elvis riff too

•Parr and Anne facetime and do Kahoots together because they need to study aka theyre competitive as shit

•Cathy gets excited in class and stands on her chair and yells "I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK. U COMING TO KILL ME???" And promptly gets removed from the class.

•Parr gets a "Little Miss Adventurous" award for having the most travelled converstation.

BONUS:

•The queens doing that egg project where they have to bring an egg home and keep it for a week

•Anne calls hers Eggward Eggburt.

•Aragon drops it the moment she gets it

•Anne brings the egg home and makes it into an omelette

•Jane does well till the sixth day where she goes fuck it and uses it to bake cookies.

•Cleves breaks it during lunch after Anne called her a name and she threw it at her

•Kat gives hers to Jane and it's baked into chocolate chip cookies

•Parr shuts hers in the fridge for a week and takes it out at the end of the week

•Anne gets asked where her egg is and she pats her stomach which results in Kitty yelling “YOURE PREGNANT?!”

•Jane gets asked where her egg is and she holds up this cookie jar and offers the teacher one

•Parr is praised for being the only one in class for having an intact egg and then she grabs the egg and breaks it on the teacher's head cuz she 'needed to shut up'

#anne boleyn #six the musical #millie o'connell #aimie atkinson #katherine howard #catherine parr #catherine of aragon #grace mouat

89 notes · View notes

peachy-dreamers · 6 years ago

Text

Junoflo-“Partners” [Mafia AU]

Okay so this is like my first time writing something for tumblr so bare with me!!

{part 1}

You weren’t always the way you were. You grew up in a sheltered lifestyle with a working mom and dad, a little sister who looked up to you. At school you just got hung up in the wrong crowd and one thing led to another. Your bestie Jvcki Wai, Swervy, and you were quite known for being the baddest bitches around the area. Jvcki was more straight to business, Swervy had a childish-badass vibe to her, and you were the leader type that no one should fuck around with.

“We made so much money on our last job I think we deserve a night out.” Swervy plays around with the money in her hand throwing it up in the air and rolling in it. “You just want an excuse to see Sui don’t you?” Jvcki rolls her eyes. Sui was Swervy’s “love” I guess you can call it.

“Jvcki leave the girl alone if she’s in love she’s in love. We’re not going to do that shit though.” You pour yourself a pre-night out shot of pure vodka. “Damn straight.” Jvcki takes your bottle and takes a swig. “All the guys are gonna be there anyways not just Sui so get your best outfit and let’s go spend some moneybags!” Swervy hops off the ground and goes into her room. “We’ll I guess that settles it.” Jvcki takes your bottle of vodka into her room. Your left sitting in the living room you all own together, it only took all three of you to start your life of crime right out of Highschool. You and Jvcki were childhood friends, Swervy didn’t come into the picture until middle school. You stole your first thing at the age of 16 and it all started from there.

You grab some velvet black shorts and a red lace body suit. It was probably expensive, you stole it so who cares. A nice little black Chanel baret and some thigh high black boots to complete the look. Swervy and Jvcki emerge from their rooms, “Did you grab your protection?” Jvcki asks as she loads the clip of her gun. “You know I always do” you smirk, a knife was hidden behind your belt and a small pistol in your boots.

“Let’s roll whores!” Swervy bounces out the apartment.

You all make it to your usual club, Jvcki leads us through the regular people of the world, the bouncer lets us in immediately. Swervy slips him a few dollars for his troubles. The wave of cigarette smoke overwhelms you but you were pretty much used to it. You walk in the club was bouncing and the bass bumped the floors like a drum. “I’ll catch you all later!” Swervy shimmies her way into the crowd.

“She’s gonna be the death of us.” Jvcki comments hugging closer to you. “Oh look there’s Indigo.” You point out. You all make your way to the VIP section. Swings stands up ready to greet you both. “My girls!” He hugs you and Jvcki.

“Good to see you too Swings, I see No:el and Milli made it back from doing stupid shit and almost getting arrested.” Jvcki points out lighting her cigarette. “Yeah they’re some idiots but my idiots.” Swings sighs. “So our deal?” Jvcki brings up. It was a whole system in this life of crime we had the famous criminals which were H1ghr and AOMG, then the lowkey criminals which were HiLite, Ambition, And Indigo. Swervy had some connections with HiLite and Jvcki with Indigo which was good. Then you were more so on your own person, you could only trust Jvcki and Swervy and chose to stay out of business with other people. Especially,since you were a girl assholes would try to one up you.

“I’m gonna let you two talk business.” You walk to the bar to get your drink to start the night off right. “The usual” You motion to the bartender she nods and begins making it.

“So it’s the infamous (Y/N).” You hear a familiar voice say. “Reddy.” You sigh.

Reddy was a 2 month ago mistake you wish to never speak to again. “I know we left on bad terms but-” he starts to speak but you cut him off. “Yeah but nothing we had sex 3 times that’s it..” you take the drink and begin to walk. Reddy slides himself in front of you making you spilling the drink a little.

“Oh god damn it.” You huff under your breath. “Reddy back off.” You start to get a little agitated.

“What even happened?” He asks clealry not getting the damn hint. “Do I need to call Swervy?” You say as a warning, the bitch was nice but when Swervy was crazy not a good idea. “What is she gonna do?” Reddy scoffs.

“Babe.” A deep ass voice startles you, a arm links over your shoulders. You turn to see an unfamiliar face fairly close to yours with a huge grin. “Oh hey.” You try to sound convincing.

“Oh hey Reddy.” The voice dude says nodding upwards. “Juno didn’t know she was yours.” Reddy seems to back off.

“Catch you later man.” Juno says more of a warning than an actual goodbye. With that Reddy walks off, you remove Juno’s hand and pull your pocket knife on his abdomen pressing barely. You dropped your drink in the process but you didn’t care.

“You got a minute.”

“Woah this is the thanks I get for saving your ass? A cute one at that is.” He gives you a run over. “I didn’t need you help that was just an old flame who didn’t know how to take no for an answer I was fine” you press the knife a little deeper.

“Okay whatever you say.” He holds his hands up like he’s innocent. “Now what do you want.” You ask him again. People were starting to notice you two and the knife between you both.

“Business.”

“I don’t do business.”

“Yeah but your girls do but I’m not interested in them. Trust me you wanna do business with me.” He sounds so confident and cocky it was a hurting your ears.

“Why is that Juno or whatever the hell your name is.” You pull the knife back slowly but not too far, he was still suspicious.

“Known as Junoflo but you can call me Sam.” He smirks down at you. “You good over here?” Swings comes up behind you and Junoflo. “Yeah we good.” You completely remove the knife and quickly put it back into your belt.

“Jvcki was looking for you.” Swings says keeping his eye on Junoflo. “I’ll be over there in a sec.” you reassure him smiling. Swings walks away still keeping an eye on you two.

“Swings doesn’t like you does he? He only gives that eye to people he’s weary about.” You chuckle. “I’m just making a name for myself in this whole system.”

“Follow me to my office Junoflo.” You take his hand and lead him up to the roof.

“This is your office?” He asks. It was quiet and nothing but the bass of the club below was heard. “Yes is more quiet and people know this is my place of peace throughout here.” You smile looking out into the city.

“So talk Juno.” You day looking at him.

“I told you to call me Sam.” He scoffs. “I’m calling you Juno until I like you enough to call you Sam so talk pretty boy.” You raise your eyebrow. You can be easily as cocky as him if you wanted.

“There’s a business owner not to far who double crossed me a while ago and I need someone to break in there with me and get my earnings.” He explains to you. “And you need me because?” You were honeslty confused. Most people knew not to ask you for a business deal, he was obviously a rookie since he got double crossed.

“Well depends if your up for a challenge. Your obviously the queen around here and I need to see it for myself.” He does that damn smirk again.

“I dont need to live up to some title people give me.” You we’re walking away from him, he trotted after you blocking your path. “Come on (Y/N) just live a little it could be fun.” His deep ass voice goes up another octive.

“Why should I even help you?”

“Well I did save you from a crazy ex and I am pretty good at my finger when it comes to things.” He smirks obviously giving a sexual innuendo.

“Oh your an asshole.” You actually start to laugh a little. “So Partners?” He asks with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“What do I get out of it?” You ignore his question. “50% of the profit that’s his money that’s not mine and maybe a little something from me.” He gets a little closer to you, his breath was minty yet had a hint of alcohol.

You turn your head closer to his lips to gain better access. He puts a finger to your lips stopping you from getting closer. “After the job. I’ll be in touch.” He slips you his number in your pocket and walks off back into the club.

You stand there shocked that he actually denied your kiss. You basically ran shit around here and he had the nerve to deny you! He did this on purpose as much as you hated it you loved it. “There you are!” Jvcki brings you out of your thoughts as she walks up to you.

“What you got there?” She asks looking down at your hands. You held a gold watch, a smirk appeared on your lips.

“My new partner’s watch.” You say swinging it around your index finger.

This was gonna be good.

40 notes · View notes

tarmairons · 6 years ago

Text

re: that last hp ask i got

i know i said i wouldn’t be cross-posting my bellamort/dark au/riddle fam headcanons from twitter but i’ve decided to post a lengthy updated masterpost here after all so ENJOY bon apetit

1. see the thing is that 90% of my hcs can’t be described with words bc they’re just.. feelings.. aesthetics.. vibes.. vague scenarios that make me feel some sort of way… the dark au has a certain Feel and i just stick a bunch of domestic concepts in there and shake it all up and that’s it shshsh

2. disclaimer: im like 75% sure my self indulgent ramblings won’t make sense so sorry about that

3. i was fully serious that one time i said on twitter that voldemort’s no.1 priority after taking over the wizarding world was doing sth about his snace (snake face) so yeah. first things first he’s not as fugly in the dark au. as mentioned previously he just looks like mr. ralph and probably wears ornate haute couture power suits

4. the public doesn’t actually know who the augurey is for YEARS… they know whoever it is is voldemort’s second in command and sure there’s rumors that he has an heir but nobody knows it’s delphi. this way she doesn’t have to be reclusive and hide away, she just lives her life, studies and trains, masters the art of dark magic, hangs around town etc, and no one suspects anything bc who would think this tiny super friendly innocent looking girl is the dark lord’s kid — her identity isn’t revealed until she’s deemed Ready to publicly take up her position. and when she is revealed it’s a Big Moment bc she’s a drama queen and lives for attention

5. delphi is taller than bellatrix

6. speaking of bellatrix. she’s presumed dead after the battle of hogwarts which turns out to be a cool bonus for the dark side. any leftover resistance? she’ll take care of that and they’ll never see her coming. tbh this seems a lot cooler in my head bc movie bellatrix would not be stealthy enough to stay hidden for years she would probs trip over something and accidentally commit arson within a few days. but yeah sneaky assassin sounds sexy. plus to be super honest i imagine bella is a teensy bit more collected than in the films... no shade at helena y’all know i would die for her but there are in fact things i would change about her bella. so yeah for a while the only people who know she’s alive aside from her immediate family are probs rod and the malfoys

7. hm so. the malfoys…. much to think about. narcissa did lie to voldemort’s face during the battle so logically he should have killed her the moment he realized she knew harry was alive all along. but this is a soft dark au so let’s pretend bellatrix was like hey dude don’t kill my sister maybe and voldemort was like k. i mean no harm done, harry potter is properly dead in this universe after all

8. but seriously tho. the only reason voldemort didn’t yeet narcissa into a wall was for bella’s sake. he’s nice like that, he probably promised her at one point that he wouldn’t violently murder her family. peak romance

9. delphi is surprisingly close with both her parents although with voldemort it’s more of a mentor-student relationship than a parent-child one bc he’s Like That. growing up it was always bella who insisted they treat delphi more like a child and less like a weapon and voldemort wasn’t always happy about that bc he’s emotionally constipated and also never had a childhood. also he’s, like, evil. so yes, reminding voldemort that delphi was her daughter too sometimes got bella in trouble bc we all know of voldemort’s superiority issues. but no bella didn’t stop insisting that delphi deserved an actual childhood and in the end they compromised like functional adults and delphi turned out pretty well for someone raised by 2 of the most terrifying people alive

10. but yeah that’s not to say voldemort and kid delphi never had soft moments. they did. he even picked her up every once in a while. everyone was surprised, bella most of all. she probably cried in the bathroom later bc the softness overwhelmed her. i’m not sure if i mean that in a sarcastic shitpost kind of way or if she was really moved to tears. y’all decide for yourselves

11. delphi looks very very much like bella but she has tom riddley eyes.. so dark they’re nearly black. and soulless. maybe they even flash red when she’s enraged. and she has very aristocratic very controlled tom riddley mannerisms. it’s not until you piss her off and she goes off the rails that the bella side of her personality kicks in

12. delphi gets along really well with the malfoys (except lucius. she thinks he’s pathetic and likes to tease him. in a friendly way but it’s still harsh. she gets that from her mom) esp scorp. scorp thinks this makes him cool at school bc he gets to fist bump the augurey and not get murdered for it

13. speaking of hogwarts. umbridge is scared shitless of delphi and it’s always a school-wide spectacle when the augurey drops by unexpectedly on official business and umbridge starts stuttering and quivering. scorp sometimes makes a point to approach umbridge and delphi when they’re talking and act all chummy-chummy with his cousin just to make himself look powerful and Cool in front of umbridge and the other students

14. i still don’t know whether voldemort would call delphi ‘delphini’ or just ‘delphi’… i imagine he’s a strict stick-up-his-ass kinda father but who knows. he does call bellatrix ‘bella’ but that’s different i guess

15. but THEN AGAIN he does have a gigantic soft spot for delphi too. maybe he slips up every so often and calls her delphi. i’m literally making this shit up as i go along i’m just smashing my mf keyboard and occasionally glancing at my messy hcs notebook. I TOLD YALL i don’t have solid hcs i just have VIBES and AESTHETICS. the only way you’ll get specific hcs out of me is if you ask very specific questions

16. weirdest brotp is delphi and rodolphus. nobody knows where that came from but they get along so well and it confuses everybody

17. we been knew that bella is batshit crazy and criminally insane or whatever but against all odds she is a surprisingly good mother. she’s always been soft for family (narcissa etc) so it makes sense that she would legit die for delphi. they have this super casual bantery relationship YALL GET ME bella is so proud of delphi she’s literally that “my little baby off to destroy people” meme!!! honestly mother-daughter relationships are my goddamn weakness i would die for the two of them

18. delphi has a gf (underdeveloped oc time!) who, for the longest time, doesn’t know who she is dating bc delphi is obviously not allowed to say. she finds out the truth eventually and she is properly freaked out for a very very long time. and since all of these hcs are stupidly soft we’re just gonna keep making them softer: the gf is terrified of delphi’s parents at first (obvs) but they’re both extremely fond of her (well, bella is, voldemort probs doesn’t care all that much about who delphi is dating so long as she’s not of subpar blood status or secretly spying for the opposition ya know. as long as delphi trusts her he does too)

19. no but really voldemort trusts delphi and bella implicitly. with delphi it’s bc he raised her and he trusts her to be loyal bc she knows no other way, she was meant to be an extension of his power etc. but with bella it’s something he learns over time, to trust her judgement bc despite her many many flaws she’s very perceptive and usually right

20. voldemort probably makes more horcruxes. still haven’t decided how this ties in with the fact that he’s now safely immortal again and neither delphi nor bella are. who knows maybe they all do the do and split their souls. much to think about. feel free to send ur thots and ideas my way

21. ya know im basic and always on my bellamort bs and therefore: as the years go by voldemort warms up to bella. not that he wasn’t already extremely fond of her before but he kicks it up a notch. i mean, he’s already taken over the world so it’s high time to start experimenting with other wilder things like Feelings. 80/90 years old isn’t too late to experience Love or whatever. might as well wake up one day and realize you’re completely and utterly in love with the woman you’ve spent the last 50+ years with whew. LIKE to be fair bella knows him better than anyone — they understand each other, they’re familiar with each other’s likes, dislikes, mannerisms, nervous tics etc etc. let’s be real it freaked voldemort out at first, being vulnerable to any degree (not that he let it show) but it just became so easy to tell her things that it became a natural thing to do. and obvs he trusts her to keep everything between them and never judge him for anything so that’s sweet

22. y’all keep asking me for domestic hcs but what can i possibly say?? imagine literally any domestic scenario ever and just think bellamort and i’ve probably imagined that same scenario before. except its sexier bc the world is dark and evil and they live in a dark gloomy super fancy manor. so we have these 2 goths right but they’re in love but in that casual familiar way YALL GET ME and sometimes they even drink coffee together in the mornings or like. do that thing where Person A returns from work late at night and its dark and raining and Person B is already home just chilling and they don’t even have to talk they just go about their nighttime routine but it’s soft and familiar and COMFORTABLE. i clearly dont have enough softness in my life i just. love domestic scenarios bye

23. i forgot everything else i wanted to write bc i got distracted by domesticity. im also thinking about how voldemort absolutely despises the thought of any pda but he’ll take bella by the wrist in public every so often when he wants to get her attention, or like. put his hand on her back. small things but oh so soft

24. hhhh okay i have a LOT to say about the power fam’s fashion choices but it’s hard to explain without pictures. i have a wholeass ppt presentation but i’m not about to upload 20+ slides to tumblr. but i seriously was not kidding when i said voldemort wears fancy suits and yes i have references. meanwhile delphi is a fan of feathers but mostly goes with lowkey military-style outfits.. she’s practical yet ostentatious. bella sticks to a conservative yet undeniably sexy selection of evil looking dresses.. i should make all of these into pinterest boards hmm

25. controversial opinion but i think delphi knows she and voldemort are half bloods. so does bella but that’s a whole other story, she been knew. anyhow yeah delphi was told the truth bc it was better for her to find out from the source rather than hear rumors from the opposition and begin to distrust the foundations of voldemort’s whole empire and voldemort himself

26. i used to absolutely hate fics where bella would eventually call voldemort by his name but now im like FUCK THAT we don’t do guilty pleasures anymore we just stan ridiculous things and that’s that. one day voldemort had a Thought (shocking, i know) and was like. Hm so we have a wholeass child and we’re basically married maybe bella shouldn’t have to call me My Lord for the rest of her life. BUT ONLY IN PRIVATE. THATS BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM it’s nobody’s business. It Is Nobody’s Business

27. speaking of marriage. bella and rod got divorced a few years after the battle. it was just a formality tho let’s be real. they remained very close friends tho!!!!!!!! i think that’s an unpopular opinion among bellamort stans but i genuinely believe bella and rod were always close the way best friends or family are ya know. rod really loves bella but as long as she’s happy he’s happy even if it means her fucking the dark lord on the reg or whatever

28. going back to #6 — when the public finally finds out that bella’s alive they obviously start to wonder about her and voldemort and connect the dots re: delphi etc but nobody ever gets any concrete answers bc there’s never any public pda.. any sort of affection is limited to when it’s just the two of them. and obviously it’s not like voldemort gossips about his private life in tabloid interviews or whatnot. ALSO the whole Bella Is Alive reveal isn’t nearly as dramatic as delphi’s big moment.. it’s more discreet and insidious in that way it implies that she was there hiding in plain sight all along. and if the ministry can keep sth this big a secret, what else are they hiding.. ah classic intimidation tactics of an authoritarian regime

29. i dont think this is ever stated in the CC but in terms of politics and bureaucracy i imagine voldemort has a fancy office in the ministry and spends 99% of his time there and rarely spends any time out and about. he’s almost never seen by anyone, rarely attends events etc. delphi’s the one who handles the day to day shit in the wizarding world. she’s like.. the public relations manager.. between the public and voldemort

30. bella is of similar status within the ministry but that’s just bc people are scared shitless of her. she doesn’t actually hold any political power and she most certainly does not want to, that is not her area of expertise at all

31. delphi is dangerously powerful and i think that’s really sexy of her

32. re: #21 it’s like. as voldemort warms up to bella, she in turn chillaxes a bit with the whole blind devotion thing and becomes bolder with him like. she’ll outright question his decisions or tell him what he should do, make judgement calls etc. and it becomes a regular thing.. turns into this casual companionship ya feel.. i won’t say they become equals bc that’s just unrealistic but he certainly stops treating her like his inferior. he recognizes her value and i daresay her authority and stops treating her like shit all the time Wow Romance Is Alive!! (this sounds like some sort of “douche fuckboi changes for his poor mistreated love interest” schtick but it’s really not that bc they’re both monstrous people who do not deserve any pity so jot that down. they’re horrible and they deserve each other and they eventually do make it work and i am so so happy for them)

33. it is never outright stated that voldemort can’t love. jkr has said that he doesn’t understand love and that it’s just symbolism!!! that he’s the child of a loveless union and grew up without knowing love!!! BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE PHYSICALLY CANNOT LOVE thanks for coming 2 my ted talk. i wasn’t aware of this until a few months ago and i was thrilled to find out my soft hcs are not entirely ooc after all

34. THE POINT IS. THEY ARE A SEMI-FUNCTIONAL FAMILY and i just really love soft domestic scenarios so sorry jkr but the dark au is the only canon now and it belongs to me. everybody has feelings and everything is soft. i’d like to pitch an idea for a kuwtk style reality show but it’s these 3 sociopaths under one roof navigating family life and wizarding world politics

35. to finish i’d like to apologize for downplaying the fact that all 3 of the people i woobified in this post are psychotic murderers and tyrants etc

—— i’ll be updating this if/when i remember anything i forgot AND ALSO send me ur thoughts and comments and constructive criticism etc pls pls pls

—— follow me on twitter and also curiouscat bc i get a scary amount of q’s about voldemort’s sex life thank you and goodbye

edits:

36. in this household we stan dark haired delphi. no i will not be taking any criticism regarding this particular fact

37. bella and voldemort never get married. obviously, because that’s a disgustingly romantic and pointless thing to do. it’s sentimental and unnecessary (well, voldemort thinks so, bella might just disagree but she’s not about to force his hand) BUT that’s not to say they’re not basically an old married couple anyway. AND as much as voldemort thinks love is weakness or whatever he knows this, that they’re about as close as two people can get. SO if he just so happens to gift her a ring.. well it’s a purely symbolic gesture but the implication is definitely there

38. it’s the horcrux ring. he trusts her that much. m y h e a r t

#hp #harry potter #bellamort

35 notes · View notes

bladekindeyewear · 6 years ago

Text

Boots Reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 12 - Candy Page 18

==>

Time to see what all the fuss was about Page 18. We’re with Jane... that might not be good. Especially given Lollipop proximity.

Jane scoffing at troll genocide again. :(

Gamzee seems more woke than Jane here.

GAMZEE: sO yOu SaYiN yOu NeEd DiFfErEnT sHoEs FoR yOuR hUmAn DiCkS aNd WhAt NoT?

Pfffff

Jane narrows her eyes at the disingenuous buffoon.

I dunno, he sounds like he’s being pretty goddamn ingenuous right now.

It’s not the first time they’ve had this conversation? Are they black with each other or something??

What’s more likely is he’s attempting to get a rise from her. To get her a little hotter under the collar. To put her in a certain mood.

Oh my gosh she’s genuinely black for him, hahahahah

GAMZEE: AnD AlL I EvEr bEeN TrYiN To dO Is gEt yOu rIgHt tOo, WiTh mOrAlS AnD GoOdNeSs, AlL fIlLeD uP iNsIdE yOu As TiGhT aS yOuR tAsTy HoE bAlLoOnS aRe WiTh HuMaN mOo JuIcE.

Jesus christ that’s not the kind of metaphor i want to be hearing from canon

or anyone for that matter

JANE: No! I’d rather die than touch your disgusting clown baton ever again.

....yyyeah, context is showing she’s PROBABLY super Black into this. Still, pretty jarring to see a clear consensual “NO” right in the middle of things.

Quit calling her a dairy queen!!! D: D: D:

Oh god they named the baby Tavros.

Alright, there’s some grade A discomfort in this scene, which I’m enjoying, really. I can see why they singled out page 18. I could traumatize some people with some of these paragraphs out of context.

HOO HOO HOO, THIS LITTLE PIGGY WENT TO THE DARK CARNIVAL!!!

Eeeeuugh

JAKE: Anyway whats up with you? Hows life with davekat going? JADE: oh its great! im really glad i just went for it JADE: all of us together... it really is the best of every world

God damnit Jade why are you obliviously torturing them????????

You could’ve been REALLY GOOD for them both if you just FUCKING LISTENED TO THEM AND RESPECTED THEM INSTEAD OF SITTING ON THEM.

JADE: theres no way me and dave could have a regular baby together because im... JAKE: Whats wrong? JADE: well lets just say that after all the sburb stuff its done some things to my body JADE: like merging with bec mostly

Oh my FUCKING GOD please don’t canonize this. This didn’t need to be spelled out so-- D:

jesus

D: D: D:

This... is actually making my stomach roil again????

not because id object to-- i mean, it’s one thing to deal with

FAN SCENARIOS

ISOLATED divergences from canon where she has to deal with that and its kind of hilarious, but can be safely ignored when it comes to her character arc as a whole

but once its CANON???????? D: D: D:

suddenly you can’t IGNORE the full import when you’re done with, like, an RP or something, of the psychological struggle she would be forced to deal with given an abnormal biological situation. Instead of thinking “Oh, that could be pretty painful to deal with! Let’s explore it temporarily for fun” it becomes “Oh, that would be painful to deal with and you have to think about her having to deal with all the complications of that whenever you hear about her LITERALLY FOREVER.” D:

andrew i know you couldnt resist because of how funny and practically-xenoprogressive it was but whyyyyyyyyy did you have to canonize that WHYYYY

Now instead of a fun joke thought it also has to be SAD FOREVER

AAAAAAAA D’:

i dont know why this would be the line thats crossed to upset me

Rose surrogate?

JADE: no jake, dave wouldnt be the father in this scenario!

Pffffff. Andrew’s just diving RIGHT into the, er, doggy fanfics here. I should... TRY to lighten up about this. Try. D:

(...wait, shit. Knowing my friend, THIS whole bit is why they alluded to this page. God damnit.)

[[ EDIT: askshenhibiki said:

Now that you read Candy 18, flash back to Meat when Roxy is talking about gender... and look at Jade's reaction looking at "where her hands rest on her lap". Yes, Meat hinted at that "mix" too.

Ah, let’s see...

ROXY: and so i got to thinking ROXY: what even is gender ROXY: amirite lol? JADE: oh yeah JADE: that makes sense i guess........

Jade looks at where her hands are folded in her lap. Bites her lip. She has her own concerns about this, her own thoughts. Reasonable thoughts, I’d say. But I’ll refrain from any further comment. I’m staying away from this subject, from now on.

...yeah, guess Dirk at least had the decency not to spring all that on us before Jade got the opportunity to do it honestly. ]]

Guh, back to Jake suffering in his sad, trapped scenario. I hope THAT gets at least resolved by the end of this. Someone save Jake from this, because it looks like he’s not really that capable of saving himself?

==>

Dammit, Jade, I’m cringing at these descriptions of your intrusion.

Oh wow, John went for the mustache. Guess we knew that from, like, his stuffed statue oldself?

Jade doesn’t pick up on the obvious subtext in the conversation, however, because she’s been willfully undermining the subtext in her own personal life for nearly a year now.

D: D: D:

Seriously, Jade, how is what YOU’RE doing any better than what you were frustrated at seeing THEM doing, avoiding the real feelings and truth of anything even if it was conspicuously on body-language display?

KARKAT: THE NEW ADMINISTRATION IS CRACKING DOWN ON CERTAIN KINDS OF INTERSPECIES ADOPTION LAWS.

It’s like Andrew wants us deprived of even a happy imagined future for Earth C on top of everything else!!! What the hell! >:(

Is this about politics? Is Andrew just venting his anger that the Orange Guy is going to get away with ruining everything forever?? Because as understandable as that is, he could at least give us some imaginary happyfutures to look forward to.

Reading on... Hm, yet another intentionally-misused fridging reference.

KARKAT: HIS RELATIONSHIP IS A FLAMING WRECK OF AN INTERSTELLAR WARSHIP HURTLING TOWARDS THE PLANET AT TERMINAL VELOCITY WITH THE ENTIRE CREW BRUTALLY SLAUGHTERED UPON REENTRY, SHOVED STRAIGHT DOWN THE CHAGRIN TUNNEL AND THEN IMMEDIATELY SHAT OUT THE OTHER SIDE, THUS FLOODING THE ENTIRE FUCKING NEIGHBORHOOD WHEN IT CLOGS UP THE LOAD GAPER.

Yep, that triangle’s fucked. Wonder if the conversation’s going to transition to the CURRENT triangle’s problems...

...yeah, John using the R word there isn’t far from the fucking truth from the looks of things.

JADE: maybe that would work for a few days, but one thing i learned from dating around a lot in my youth is that no ones going to leave a bad relationship until its THEIR idea to leave

She takes in a shaky breath and shuts her eyes. Her hair spills around her face when she leans forward to put her chin on her knees. Dave and Karkat exchange a look that is equal parts confused, miserable, and desperate.

Oh SHIT. Is JADE going to be the one to finally vocalize about the problems here???

Something else comes hurtling out of the hole in the sky, too fast for Jade to catch. It hits the ground with a clap of green lightning. The collision sends a geyser of dirt, rock, and vapor into the air. Dave flash-steps to shield Karkat. Jade doesn’t move, taking the brunt of the explosion face on, using her abilities to warp the energy around her so that she’s a mote at the center of the storm. When the dust clears, she’s the first to jump in the crater, trailing smoke behind her.

There’s a body at the center of it. The torso is bloody, tangled, and curled into a fetal position. Its shoes are missing, but otherwise the outfit is quite familiar to her: it’s a dead ringer for her old Witch of Space uniform. Jade touches the body with the toe of her shoe, and then gasps when it rolls over to reveal its face.

JADE: its... JADE: ME???

Okay what the FUCK. It sounds like there’s going to be some context for that postscript after all. Something to bridge the gap between when that 16-yo Jade falls into the singularity and when Aradia goes off with her through a wormhole

I’m going to guess up front that this happens BEFORE the postscript... this younger version of Jade fell into the black hole and came out in THIS alternate timeline, possibly rather changed by the experience. But then again, the way the sky opened up... actually, couldn’t that be just a “natural” manifestation of the black hole abilities encouraged by Calliope or done by the singularity alone, followed by later in the Postscript this Jade actually getting control of it??

And... reading on, from the sound of it, her eyes aren’t black yet, either. Sounds like that’s to come, before the postscript. Question being, is it alt!Callie black eyes, or some black-hole-powers visual manifestation? Wait, never mind, I misread; this teenage Jade-corpse has NOT opened their eyes yet, so they couldn’t possibly tell, and the stuff about them “shaking” was about the adult Jade standing over her. Never mind. Let’s see which timeframe this Jade came from.

Also STOP TRAUMATIZING ADULT JADE ON SCREEN ITS NOT OKAY IM SICK OF IT ANDREW

==>

Page 20...

Stop letting babby not!Vriska bully babby not!Tavros.

Hm... same stupid tooth poison? No, Jade didn’t get hit with a tooth... so it’s more getting hit with shards of spacetime and spiraling down a black hole. Also whatever alt!Callie did to just barely keep her alive.

Hm, so the Heart stuff falls apart if you’re too separated from the mass-whole at Light’s center? That’s certainly a hypothesis at least.

ROXY: sounds like its time for another funeral lmao

ROXY WAKE THE FUCK UP AND STOP BEING A VAGUELY ROXY-LOOKING LMAO-ZOMBIE. WHERE THE FUCK DID REAL ROXY GO.

And where the fuck is Calliope anyway, she’s just being left in the dust and nobody’s even talked to her from the looks of it.

Hm, cut apart by political differences, this group...?

ROXY: woah ok karkat i get ur all fired up about politics and stuff but lay off gamz ok

ROXY WHO REPLACED YOUR FUCKING BRAIN WITH A BLOCK OF CHEESE

ROXY YOU’RE MY FAVORITE CHARACTER PLEASE GIVE US AN EXPLANATION FOR WHY YOU’RE ACTING NOTHING LIKE THE COOL SMART PERSON WE READ ABOUT.

JADE: dave what the FUCK did you say to him downstairs?

Oh my god you asshole don’t blame DAVE for this >:(

ROXY: this time next week well corpse party like its the end of the world!

I don’t want to think this has anything to do with Aradia, but we DID see her in that postscript bit... And, I mean, what the hell could she even do?? It’s not like this Roxy is just Aradia in really convincing cosplay or something.

==>

She leads John and Jake into the building and down the center of the nave, humming happily to herself the entire time. An equally effusive Calliope trails behind her, carrying a bouquet of purple flowers.

Well there’s Callie. What is WITH these hypnotized motherfuckers. I need a revelation on these shenanigans STAT.

What is with people being bathed in light here?

each time we witness death, we fall in love in with the important people in oUr lives all over again.

Calliope is gazing at Roxy with glassy eyes. She sniffs as she plucks the last petal from her rose. A breeze washes through the cathedral from the crack in the door at the end of the room, brushing the petal off-course and causing it to get stuck in Roxy’s over-sprayed hair. Calliope reaches out with a visibly shaking hand to remove the plant offal, but she does not draw back. Instead, she lets her hand graze down the side of Roxy’s face and cup her cheek. Roxy puts her own hand over Callie’s and holds it.

Uhhh.... huh.

So.

If Roxy was just lying to herself, then............ WHY??????

John tilts his head and squints at the image in front of him. Hmm.

Is John realizing he’s in some sort of fanfic drawn by another character, hence all the people in serene lightbeams at tender but unjustified moments?

Everyone whips their heads around to see, of all people, Aradia hovering in the foyer

Pff

(...I hope Aradia didn’t come here, like, from the postscript. Where the “action” she talked about might have just been this corpse party. Because that would be pretty fucking lame.)

KARKAT: MAYBE FUCKING NEPETA IS ABOUT TO POUNCE FROM BEHIND THAT GROTESQUE STATUE OF THE HUMAN SUFFERER T-POSING OVER THERE.

Pfffffffffff

The description of Human Jesus we all had in our hearts, but were too afraid to voice.

Alright, now we see the body we took our eyes off of. Is it going to get back up, or did it escape earlier?

since nobody was willing to dislodge the huge, otherworldly shard from her chest

My damn god, people.

...alright finally, everyone’s talking.

JANE: Agreed. I’ve always felt that Kanaya has done an exemplary job of providing a model for compassionate, empathetic behavior, which others of her kind would do well to follow.

JANE STOP BEING A XENOPHOBIC BASTARD

CALLIOPE: please. roxy gathered yoU all here for a reason. CALLIOPE: at least listen Until the end. CALLIOPE: after that yoU can argUe all you want.

...Huh. Huuuuhh. What the fuck is all this for. Are you saying ROXY caused this? Or...?

Okay I like this reinforcement she’s making in her speech about how different changes can influence how all of this unfolds, gives me hope that maybe these two cliffhangers aren’t all we’re going to be left with and we’ll be able to at least think of an IMPLIED future different from them if we wanted to like we thought about the seemingly-infinite-possibility original ending of Homestuck that I’d rather have been stuck with than this oh god breathe boots

okay there’s the labor going into good distraction

alright corpse get back up

JADE: i am not jade.

Right, so like the black eyes in the postscript suggested this is more just a... vessel for alt!Calliope now? To give HER a future beyond the one she sacrificed for that black hole business? And between alt!Callie’s became-the-black-hole nature and Jade’s Spacey Green Sun connection that’s been singularified, she has access to cool Black Hole powers? And is gonna do cool shit with them in implied future adventures we won’t see while Aradia gleefully watches the carnage? Huh.

The congregation watches her go, but no one moves to help her, or even looks in her direction. In her wake, she leaves a primal, echoing wail.

Oh my god why wouldn’t they have just a brief discussion or something IT’S NOT THAT BAD D:

JADE: and while i cannot say the same thing for the rest of you, JADE: i, at least, am exactly where i am meant to be.

Well fuck. So she just disconfirmed this timeline as... something. Relevant, possible, I dunno.

JADE: and i have entered this body to protect your world.

Okay that’s good. So thanks to alt!Calliope these side timelines where things unfolded differently MAY be preserved. Pretty fitting given alt!Callie’s origins.

.......unless there’s some other stupid interspecies civil war threat that she’s going to be fighting too, here, when the political situation falls apart. Dammit.

==>

Terezi talk Terezi talk

-- JOHN EGBERT sent TEREZI PYROPE the photo “ghostrain.jpg” --

TEREZI: WH4T TH3 4CTU4L FUCK JOHN: it started a few days ago. the sky above the capital of the troll kingdom just cracked open and ghosts began raining down everywhere.

Oh my GOD. So alt!Callie kind of “saved” all the doomed ghosts that got swallowed up in the black hole by redirecting them all to THIS UNIVERSE and timeline???????

That’s pretty interesting! Heck my stomach’s even calming down!

they can’t even be judges! TEREZI: G4SP

Yeah that’s pretty terrible!

...yep, the resistance WOULD put him in charge. I had a feeling it may have ended up in that direction in Candy since it wasn’t in Meat.

--oh FUCK YOU Jade for splitting up what he had with Karkat before they could sort it out!!! You did the OPPOSITE OF HELP and neither of them are going to end up happy thanks to you! D:<

PFFF wow, John’s so concerned about babby not!Tavros’s living situation that he’s considering legit kidnapping. That means things must be pretty fucking bad.

--okay Calliope’s still out and about with Roxy instead of being cooped up in her room like in the other timeline, that’s good.

Pff, trying to redeem Ghost Eridan in front of Ghost Feferi. Yep, that’s Gamzee.

GAMZEE: fIrSt, A LiTtLe RiGhTeOuS sPlAsH oF tHe NaNnA nEcTaR tO cLeAnSe ThAt DaNkNeSs FrOm YoUr SoUlS...

Gamzee takes out a baby bottle and flicks it, covering them both with little drops of milk, as clergy does with holy water. He then takes a swig from the bottle himself before returning it to his codpiece.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

I don’t want to believe that what’s in that bottle is what he’s making it sound like it is, but OF COURSE it is. Why would it be anything else. I bet there’s not even any Lifey hypnosis going on, it’s just the literal stuff.

The crowd falls silent as they raise their heads to watch a drone ship pass by overhead.

Jegus fuck stop going whole hog condesce janey

ROXY: lmao you worry too much ROXY: janeys got her head on straight shell show you yet

ROXY. WHERE DID YOUR BRAIN GO. I MISS IT. YOUR BRAIN WAS THE BEST FUCKING PART OF YOU.

Touching photo.

Alright lemme post split. I haven’t gotten as far as the last post plowed through since I’ve been typing so much... ah well.

#Homestuck #Homestuck Epilogue #Upd8 #Homestuck Liveblog #bladekindeyewear #BlastYoBoots

26 notes · View notes

luckyspike · 6 years ago

Text

Adventures in America, Ch. 4 - In which Crowley makes a friend and the guardian goobers receive some unexpected news

Chapter 4 is Crowley and Aziraphale centric so enjoy because we probably won’t really see them for a while after this. Maybe. IDK I haven’t written much beyond this.

Not on AO3 yet in case I decide I want to change major plot points later I guess or something lmao and also i dont want to disappoint anybody in case i never finish this

I really like this story leave me alone

Ch 1/Ch2/Ch3

“You really think sushi is a good idea?” Aziraphale asked Crowley, while he watched the demon fiddle with his jacket collar in the hotel mirror. “We are in America, Crowley, and you know I did think we should try to get a bit of the local flavor while we’re here.” He gave up dragging the brush through his hair, still damp from the shower, and turned his attention to his shirt cuffs instead.

Crowley considered this, pulling his t-shirt down and then back up again. “Right. Well, angel, I’m not opposed to anywhere else but let’s put it like this.” He turned to Aziraphale, hands spread. “It’s supposed to be a great sushi place and we’re about to embark on at least 6 weeks of hauling up and down the American midwest, which isn’t exactly known for its sushi. Roadside barbecue? Yeah. Terrible fast food? Absolutely. Hole-in-the-wall diners with great desserts? Undoubtedly. Fresh sushi? Probably not. And if the goal is to minimize miracles during this thing, if you get a bit peckish for some sake nigiri then you’re just going to have to wait until we’re back in civilization.”

Aziraphale hummed. “Well. When you put it that way. I hardly think the American midwest is uncivilized, though.”

“We’ll see about that.” He turned back to the mirror and re-folded his collar once more, flipping it back up and looking satisfied, although Aziraphale would have been hard-pressed to describe what, exactly, he’d changed. “Definitely not known for its sushi.”

“No. No, I suppose not.”

Crowley turned, and then raised an eyebrow. “No waistcoat?”

“It’s hot out.” He frowned as Crowley grinned. “Don’t start with the whole ‘this is nothing compared to Hell’ nonsense, dear, I know that but not all of us struggle with thermoregulation.”

“Fair enough. It’s more casual, too. Very … American.” He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile a little as he took the offered elbow. “I think we shall, Crowley dear.”

Dinner was delicious, and Aziraphale had to hand it to Crowley - sushi was really a good idea. Especially if he was going to be at least 6 weeks without. The demon didn’t eat, not unusual, but he seemed to appreciate the wine well enough, and when Aziraphale took the opportunity to compliment the chef (in Japanese, naturally), Crowley chipped in that he thought the restaurant was quite nice, too*. They tipped the waitress generously, and took their leave, Crowley begrudgingly sobering up before they clambered into the massive vehicle to start combing the city for any signs of Adam and the other storm chasers.

[* Crowley did not speak Japanese particularly well, and Aziraphale had tried for years to help him with grammar, syntax, and pronunciation, without much success. Still, he had mastered a few phrases, and ‘very nice establishment’ was one of the more socially-acceptable ones he’d grasped.]

“How do they know where the storms are?” Aziraphale asked, as they cruised down a side-road, Crowley looking sharply into the parking lot of a low-cost hotel. “It’s not as if they’re scheduled occurrences.”

“They’ve got laptops and the like in the car,” he replied, distracted. “Radar and GPS and all that. They follow the storms that way and go to the ones that look most promising.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows, and turned to scan the parking lot of a Red Roof Inn. “Quite technological.”

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing.” Crowley slowed to study a truck in another parking lot, and then shook his head and pulled away. “I brought the stuff to do the same thing, s’back in the room.”

“So that’s what was in that bag.” Aziraphale considered this for a minute. “And, ah, who are you expecting to use said equipment, Crowley?” The SUV stopped at a red light, and Crowley suddenly looked thoughtful.

“Huh. Didn’t think about that.” He shrugged, and looked over to the car next to them idly. Aziraphale, focused on the topic at hand, didn’t notice the revving of the other car’s engine. “You could learn,” Crowley said. Aziraphale, lost in thought about technological advancements in meteorology, didn’t register the distraction and, under that, the devilish glee.

“I’m not much good with computers.” He sighed. “I do have the old accounting machine, but -” He stopped, because the 4-Runner’s engine revved rather loudly. Alarmingly. He looked over to the demon. “Crowley?” Something caught his eye. “Crowley, this car wasn’t … I’m certain this wasn’t a manual transmission when we picked it up yesterday.”

“Wasn’t it?” Another hum of the engine. The radio crackled, and songs shuffled through the speakers, seconds at a time, as the SUV cast around for something that would suit. It paused on a song by - who else? Aziraphale thought - Queen, but then moved on, searching through a few more before settling on something with a heavy bassline, electric guitars, and a prominent drum piece. It was bebop, and Aziraphale didn’t like it. Crowley looked thoughtful. “It’s better.”

Aziraphale did have to hand it to the car: the vocalist’s shouted “Go!” coordinated perfectly with the light changing from red to green and Crowley, predictably, slamming the gas. Relatedly, it also coordinated with Aziraphale’s rhyming yelp of “No!”

Tires shrieked and the SUV roared forward, while Crowley laughed maniacally as he shifted through the gears and wove around slower traffic down the long street. The other car - the instigator, Aziraphale tried to assure himself, although he knew Crowley had probably tempted them into it without even trying that hard, the old snake - was a smaller outfit, two doors and sleek, with an iridescent paint job and chrome flashing on the tires. It was also, to Aziraphale’s horror, keeping pace, roaring along beside their car, in spite of surrounding traffic and Crowley’s absolutely death-defying steering.

“Crowley, what are you doing?” he half-yelled, half-groaned. “You’re going to get us killed! Or arrested!”

The demon whooped. “Just a bit of fun, angel. Hang on!” Another gear shift, and the car accelerated, hitting a highway on-ramp and roaring onto the freeway. The other car, momentarily behind, followed suit.

“We’re supposed to be looking for Adam,” he reminded Crowley, right hand with a white-knuckle grip on the ceiling handle and the left with an equally tight grip on the center console. “Crowley, please -”

“We have all night to find him.” Crowley glanced to the left, and caught sight of the other car, prompting him to accelerate. The dashboard in this vehicle was much larger than the Bentley’s vast even, and although Aziraphale was moderately terrified for the state of his corporation - he couldn’t imagine Heaven being inclined to give him a new body these days - he did risk a lean over to check the speedometer.

Ah. That was a mistake. He sat back, and pressed himself against the seat. Silently, as they wove through other cars and played leapfrog with the other racer, Aziraphale prayed. Crowley, for his part, laughed over the song blaring from the speakers, and drove, only ever taking his eyes off the freeway ahead to check the progress of the challenging vehicle. The 4-Runner groaned in protest as Crowley quickly changed gears to slow down, swerve around a box truck on the right shoulder, and then speed back up again, rocking back into the lane in front of the truck and taking off. The other car, slowed by a vehicle only going about 20 miles per hour over the speed limit in the passing lane, had to brake hard, and for a few blessed moments, Aziraphale thought it was over. Crowley would slow down now, surely.

Instead, the demon leaned out of the window to better make a rude gesture at the other car. There was a blaring of a horn, and in the rearview mirror, Aziraphale saw the other car break free of the traffic and start to catch up. He groaned, hand over his eyes, prepared for another round of acceleration, but was surprised to hear, over the rushing wind of Crowley’s open window, someone yelling, “Hey, man, get off next exit!” Crowley yelled something in response - very rude, Aziraphale thought - but slowed down anyway, guiding the car off the freeway, tailed by the other car.

“What are they doing?” he asked, cautiously, as Crowley braked again, and turned hard into the parking lot of an International House of Pancakes. The car lurched into park, and Crowley hopped out. The 4-Runner, relieved, shut itself off without any miraculous input at all.

“Probably looking to fight. Don’t worry, angel, I’ll handle it.”

“Fi - Fight? Crowley, this is America, they probably have guns!” He jumped out too, half-jogging around the back of the massive vehicle until he fell into step beside Crowley. The other car, glimmering under the fluorescent lights of the parking lot, shut off, and two young women stepped out. Yes, definitely American, Aziraphale thought, with a disapproving look toward the ripped jeans and artfully torn t-shirts. The woman who had been driving had a baseball hat on. Backwards. Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Americans.

“Dude,” the driver said. “No joke, man!” To Aziraphale’s surprise, when she reached for Crowley, she didn’t attempt a stab or a punch, but rather grabbed his outstretched hand and shook it enthusiastically. She looked to her companion, laughing. “Told you this guy’s like my dad’s age! The fuck you learn to drive like that, man? You drive like a bat outta hell!”

Crowley smirked. “Bat out of London, actually - way harder driving there.”

The other woman crossed her arms, her expression one of pleasant surprise. “Shit, dude, you’re British, too?” She flipped her long braid back over her shoulder and smoothed a lock of dirty blonde hair down. “Now I’m really impressed - you stayed on the right side of the road and everything.”

The driver rolled her eyes. “Shut up Leanne, it’s not that hard to remember after like, a week. This your ride?” She approached the SUV, hands on her hips. “Don’t see too many of these that can race like that, you know.”

Crowley winked to Aziraphale, and then sauntered up behind the driver, hands in his pockets. “It’s a rental. We just flew in this afternoon. Sorry, didn’t catch your name.”

“Call me Mary. Who are you, dude?”

“Good name, Mary,” Crowley said, grinning over his shoulder back at Aziraphale, who scowled. “Used to know a Mary. Great lady. You can call me Crowley.”

“It’s short for Mariel. Mind if I look under the hood?”

“Be my guest.” He followed her to the front of the car and Aziraphale and Leanne followed behind, Leanne studying Aziraphale and Aziraphale still glaring at Crowley. The hood of the car popped up, and Mary whistled.

“How’d you end up with a rental with a manual and a V8?”

Crowley leaned a hip against the bumper, arms crossed. “Oh, you know, only the finest Enterprise rentals had to offer.” If Mary found that suspicious, she didn’t remark on it, save to nod approvingly and slam the hood of the car shut.

“Well, anyway, thanks for the race. Super fun. Don’t think I’ve pushed Bella up past 110 in a while.” She shook her head at this appalling state of affairs. “Everybody else around here knows me and backs off before we hit the highway. Poor girl never gets room to run.”

“Tragic. Mustang, is she?”

“Yeah, had her from new,” Mary said, smiling fondly back at her car. Aziraphale could see Crowley soften to that. “Leanne and I have put all kinds of work into her - if we hadn’t got stuck in traffic she would’ve had this thing on the straightaway for sure,” she added, patting the hood of the rental. “You got me with the traffic, though.”

“It’s an art.”

Leanne had since circled around to the front of the car with the rest of them, and gently slid her hand into Mary’s. She looked to Aziraphale, head cocked. “Who’s your friend?”

“Ah, Azir - er, Ezra,” he corrected quickly.

“Nice.” Leanne looked from Aziraphale back to Crowley. “Are you guys -”

“What do you drive back home?” Mary asked, ignoring Leanne’s line of questioning, for which Aziraphale felt he should probably owe her a debt.

“The Bentley. It’s a coupe - vintage.” Crowley added.

Mary’s mouth opened a little. “Woah, no joke? Shit, dude. You got pictures?” His phone was already clearing his pocket before she’d finished the question. Aziraphale shook his head.

“It’s cool,” Leanne commiserated, patting Aziraphale on the shoulder as Mary stepped away, the better to look at probably all of the photos of the Bentley Crowley kept on his phone. She was already marveling at the condition - “I’ve looked after it,” Crowley said proudly - and Leanne went on, “She’s got like four thousand pictures of her car on her phone, too.” She shook her head, and then brightened up. “So what’re you guys doing in Texas? You come in for a festival or something?”

“Oh, no, no, we’re here on holiday. Vacation,” he added, in case she hadn’t understood. She giggled.

“Yeah, I got it. That’s cool. Why Texas?”

He thought about it for a second. “Just seems very American. I’ve never been, and it’s been years since Crowley last left England. Thought we would mix it up a bit.”

Leanne nodded solemnly. “Greatest state in the nation. Well, Mary’s partial to Nevada, but she’s wrong. Anyway, that’s cool. So you just driving around, checking out the night life?”

“Something like that,” he lied.

“You should try Rain on 4th,” Leanne suggested. “I think you’d like it. Great music, really great drinks and uh, I think you guys would fit in with the crowd there.”

Aziraphale pretended to think it over. “Rain on 4th. I’ll say something to Crowley. We were just thinking of turning in, though, finding somewhere to stay.”

“That’s why you kept slowing down in front of hotels.” Leanne, suddenly, sounded relieved. “We were wondering about that. Like, Mary thought you were looking for a race, obviously, but I was like ‘what if they’re murderers stalking their next victim’?” She laughed. “That’s a relief, anyway!”

“Oh!” Aziraphale forced a laugh, but he was sure he hadn’t been able to hide the shock on his face before she noticed. Murderers? “Oh, my dear, no, no definitely not murderers. No. But, ah, would you have any recommendations? For places to stay, I mean.”

Leanne put her head to the side. “What kind of place you guys looking for?” She looked from Aziraphale, back to Crowley, and then to Aziraphale again. “I mean, the nicest chain place is going to be the Marriott, probably, or the Westin, but like, there’s the Omni and -”

Aziraphale held up a hand, and resisted saying that yes, the Omni was very nice, pity they wouldn’t actually be using the room. “We’re looking for something a little more … economical. But clean,” he added.

“Oh, okay.” She thought about it. “Well, steer clear of Red Roofs and Motel 6’s, then. I found blood in the bathroom of a Red Roof one time**, and like, they totally acted like I should be cool with it. Super weird.” She shrugged. “Microtels are usually pretty clean and super cheap. Uh, I dunno, the chain places. Hiltons or Doubletrees or whatever.”

[** Author’s note: True story, I totally did. Stayed in a Red Roof the night before I flew to Austin to stay at the aforementioned Westin for a conference (all expenses paid, hell yeah) and boy those could not have been two more polar opposite experiences. From bloody bathroom tiles to five-star service BOY did I get some whiplash.]

“Microtel,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully. “Cheap and clean, you said?” He glanced over to Crowley, and found that he and Mary had left to discuss Bella’s engine in more detail.

“Yeah, over by the airport.” Aziraphale started walking leisurely back towards the Mustang and his demon, Leanne falling into step beside him. “You going to be in Austin the whole time?”

“Hm? Oh, no.” He shook his head. “No, we rented the vehicle for easier travel - we’ll be moving around for a few weeks, seeing the sights, you know.” He nodded his head toward Crowley. “He loves a good, ah, road trip.” He raised his eyebrows as Mary and Crowley started crouching down in front of the car, obviously considering sliding underneath it to get a better look, right there in the International House of Pancakes parking lot. Mary even had her phone out to use the flashlight, but Aziraphale pointedly cleared his throat. Crowley paused.

“What, angel?”

“Aw,” Leanne whispered, exchanging an affectionate glance with Mary.

“Hotel, remember?” he said, jerking his head back toward the car, hands folded behind his back. “We were looking -”

“Yeah, I remember. We’ve got a minute.”

“I’m quite tired.”

Crowley was looking at him flatly. Had there not been unfamiliar humans around, he probably would have lowered his sunglasses to really fix Aziraphale with a look. “You’re tired?”

“Yes,” he replied primly. “Miss Leanne was kind enough to recommend some reasonably-priced hotels that will be clean. By the airport.” He raised his eyebrows significantly. Crowley continued staring. “With excellent freeway access.”

The demon groaned. “Yeah, alright. Alright, I get the point.” He held up a hand. “Five minutes?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Very well. Five minutes.” Crowley nodded, enthusiastically, and then he and Mary slid under the Mustang, Mary talking excitedly as the flashlight beam flickered from one mechanical piece to another. Aziraphale sighed. “At least he’s having fun.”

Leanne laughed. “Hey, mind if I ask about your coat?” When Aziraphale looked confused, she went on, “I do some costume design on the side for a little theater company, and that’s a really neat coat. Like, looks like it could have been straight out of the nineteenth century.”

“I suppose it does, yes,” Aziraphale laughed. “I have had it for quite a while.” He shrugged, grinning, and parroted Crowley’s earlier assertion. “I’ve looked after it.”

“So what’s it made of? Was it custom or - ?”

In reality, it was probably more than five minutes, but Aziraphale was more than happy to discuss his coat with a young woman who appreciated good tailoring. Eventually, when Crowley and Mary emerged from under the car, brushing themselves off, it was Crowley who reminded Aziraphale that they really ought to be going, but only after he and Mary had exchanged numbers***. Leanne had been highly appalled at Aziraphale’s statement that he didn’t actually have a cell phone, but he assured her she was welcome to text Crowley any time she might have questions about period clothing, and Crowley only grumbled about it a little.

[*** When Mary had expressed concern that texting or calls wouldn’t work with an international number, Crowley assured her that his cell carrier was very accessible worldwide, and could pick up messages from anywhere she could think of, and probably a few places beyond that.]

“Hey, enjoy America though, alright?” Leanne added, as the two pairs started to draw apart, backing away toward their respective vehicles. “You guys ever have any questions or whatever, you can hit this girl up!”

Mary looked at her disapprovingly across the hood of their car as she opened the driver’s door. “What, you’re a tour guide now?”

“No, but like, they’re in a strange country, I’m just being nice.” Leanne stuck her tongue out at Mary. “I’m allowed to be nice if I want to.”

Mary snorted. “Yeah, I guess.” They smiled fondly at one another, and then, as one, turned and waved at Aziraphale and Crowley. “Anyway, bye guys! Nice to meet you. Thanks for the race!”

Once back in the 4-Runner, with the roar of the Mustang fading behind them, Aziraphale settled in, pulled his seatbelt on, and smiled happily. “What nice young ladies. Miss Leanne was quite helpful with local hot-spots, too.”

“Yeah.” The key turned in the ignition without Crowley’s input, as the car grumbled to life. Hesitantly, the radio flickered on, the volume so low as to be almost inaudible, and Aziraphale clicked it off. “Good catch on that hotel tip, by the way.”

“You know, if we find Adam,” Aziraphale said, as Crowley steered back onto the freeway, following signs to the airport, “and there’s enough time, she did tell me a nice place to get a drink, if you’d like.” Crowley hummed in noncommittal acknowledgement. “Rain on 4th, she said. She was very complimentary - what are you laughing about?”

“Oh, angel.” Crowley shook his head, and tossed his sunglasses into Aziraphale’s lap. “Never change.”

“You know the place? I thought you said you haven’t been to America -”

“I have Twitter. And the internet. You read things.” He glanced sidelong at the angel. “Bit like your club you went to at the end of the nineteenth century.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “A gentlemens’ club? Oh, it’s been years since I’ve been to one.”

Crowley was looking at him. “Do you -” He trailed off and looked back to the road, fingers drumming pensively on the steering wheel.

“Do I what, dear?”

“Never mind.” He jerked the wheel to the right and swerved from the left lane and onto the exit ramp, while the horn of a car he’d cut off blared behind them. “You do know what a gentlemens’ club is, right?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Of course I do, dear. I rather liked spending time with those lovely men - we all really did have similar tastes.”

“Ungh?” Crowley said, hastily looking out the window and into the first parking lot they came across - it was for a Jiffy Lube, which was most definitely not where Adam was staying.

“Of course,” Aziraphale went on, “they also used it as a cover to engage in their sadly-taboo love affairs. I didn’t partake in that, but the dancing was nice all the same.” He reached across the console, which was so broad that it made what would normally be a comfortable gesture physically impractical and somewhat awkward, and rested his hand on Crowley’s leg. Crowley made one of his little noises, still looking out of the window, and Aziraphale smiled. “I think you would have liked it, if you hadn’t decided to sleep through that portion of history. I am rather sorry about that.”

“Ngh, I know, angel.” Suddenly, the car lurched, as Crowley slammed on the brakes. “Hang on.” He squinted. “What’s it say on the side of that red truck?”

“Dear, you stopped in the middle of an intersection.” When Crowley glared at him and failed to move, in spite of Aziraphale’s pursed lips and the honking of various cars cautiously steering around them in the middle of the intersection, he sighed. “Get closer, I can’t read the front from here.”

“Right, fine.” Crowley pulled forward, drove across the sidewalk, and pulled up alongside the truck. “S’that it? Says it’s it, right?”

“It says ‘Big Sky Severe Storm Spotters’ just there.” Aziraphale indicated the front of the truck, where a small decal had been placed. “Is that them?” He looked up to the hotel, while Crowley nodded. “Oh, Microtel.” He smiled. “She does work in mysterious ways.”

“Huh?” Crowley slung his arm across Aziraphale’s shoulders, the better to look behind them as he reversed back over the sidewalk. “Who?”

Aziraphale considered it. “Leanne,” he settled on. “This establishment was her first suggestion when I asked for a hotel recommendation.” Crowley snorted. “I know, quite the coincidence, wasn’t it?” He frowned, as Crowley pulled back onto the freeway. “Why are we leaving?”

“Gotta get our stuff, don’t we? Don’t!” He reached over and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand as the angel lifted it to snap his fingers. “No magic, if we can help it. Don’t want him to know we’re here. And we’ve got time to grab our stuff before we stake them out.”

“Ah.” Aziraphale nodded, and didn’t say anything when Crowley relaxed and let his arm fall to the console, his fingers still wrapped around Aziraphale’s. “That does make sense.” He settled back into his seat, more comfortable, breathing a small sigh of relief when he saw that Crowley was barely going over 90.

It was the work of an hour to pick up their bags, load back into the car, and return to the Microtel where the truck was still parked. Crowley pulled into a parking lot across the street, with a good view of the hotel entrance as well as the truck, killed the lights, and hissed something to the car. The engine, to the car’s great surprise, idled more quietly. Crowley nodded, approving, pulled his phone out, and tilted the seat back, his heels propped up on the steering wheel.

“So now we wait?”

“Now we wait,” Crowley agreed, scrolling through something. He paused, squinting at the phone, and zoomed in on something. “Oh, hey, wait a second before you start in on whatever book you’ve got.” Aziraphale stopped moving, his hand halfway to his briefcase. “Got an email from Lucky.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale stopped, and held out his hand. Crowley dropped the phone into it. “Here, I’ll read it. Oh, bother.” He puzzled over the phone for a minute, taking a moment to zoom back out and then a further minute to actually open the email. Crowley remained silent, eyes closed but a small smirk on his lips. “Don’t look so smug, Crowley, it’s unbecoming.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Very well, here it is. It reads:

“‘Hi, Nanny,

‘Wow, sounds like you and Brother Francis have had a nice spring! Glad to hear you had an okay time at the flower show, even if you didn’t win anything. Hah, I’m sure Francis reminded you winning isn’t everything but whatever, it is kind of great to win sometimes -’”

Crowley sighed fondly. “He’s always been so competitive.”

“‘ - but having fun is cool too, I guess. Anyway, I graduated from high school! I attached a few pictures of my graduation - the cool cat next to me in most of the pictures that isn’t my mom or dad is my friend Hal, I think I’ve told you about them before. Wish you could have come to meet everybody, but I get that traveling trans-Atlantic is rough, especially if you don’t like flying.

‘Are you guys doing anything this summer? I’m super excited - I told you I’m starting college for climatology in the fall, but I didn’t know until a week or two ago that before I do that, I get to go on a road trip this summer! Sort of road trip. Like, weather-related road trip. I’ll be’ ….” Aziraphale trailed off, blinking at the text on the screen, before he swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry, and continued, “‘ I’ll be storm chasing across the midwest this summer. I’m really excited to see some severe weather close-up, and I’ll be working with a couple of researchers so hopefully I’ll learn a lot, too.’”

Aziraphale looked to Crowley, who was staring at him. “You’re kidding,” Crowley said, eyes wide. Aziraphale shook his head, and bent back over the phone, picking up the tempo as he read.

“‘Although I’m sure you’re probably super excited about me chasing the hellish fury of a vengeful God, just in case Brother Francis is worried please let him know that it really is very safe, and the researchers I’ll be working with often take meteorology and climatology students on storm tours, to teach them - me, I guess! - about severe weather patterns, how to spot developing dangerous weather, and other stuff like that. I mean, I know you’re probably all about widespread destruction or whatever, but sorry to disappoint you since I guess I’m hoping to learn how to prevent casualties and warn people to get to safety! Brother Francis is super proud, I’m sure!

‘Anyway, I’ll email or text you from the road if you want. I can even send videos and pictures! I’m sure you’ll get stuff on snapchat too. Plus, the researchers - Rachael and Noel - update their Facebook page with events from the road during chasing season too, if you want to see their videos and stuff, which’ll probably be way better than anything I take on my phone. You might even see me in a cameo haha! I’ll be internet famous. Discovery Channel, here I come! Their company is called ‘Big Sky Severe Storm Spotters’, they’re the only one on Facebook I think.

‘So that’s the update! Hear from you soon!

‘Infernally missing you guys or whatever,

Lucky’”

Silence permeated the interior of the car for a few minutes. The engine, embarrassed, idled more quietly still. Wordlessly, Aziraphale handed Crowley’s phone back to him, the two of them staring fixedly out of the windshield for a long, long time. Across the street, the red truck sat in the parking lot lights, and somewhere in the hotel, two anti-Christs^ were sleeping soundly.

^ Sort of.

Crowley was the first to break the silence, reaching his hand up slowly to cover his eyes, and pulling his knees in closer to his chest. He sighed. “Well, shit.”

Now with Chapter 5!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #crowley #aziraphale #adam young #warlock dowling #he goes by lucky now in case you missed chapter 3 #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #the one where they go to america

5 notes · View notes