#ch: fred

[hanasnx]

fell in love without you

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: everyone’s nineteen. WARNINGS: f!reader | you have a favorite twin | sexual content with said fave twin | dubcon kiss

FRED WEASLEY stands before you alongside his brother George. A seemingly world famous smug air about them, having charmed themselves by their own wit. Arms crossed, towering tall above the random passersby as they absentmindedly drone to their next class. Your hesitation spurs the twins on, exchanging a knowing and triumphant glance that says all as you tilt your head at them.

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

“Game of guess the twin, guess wrong and you’ve got to give a kiss.” he repeats the game rules.

“For hurtin’ our feelin’s.” the other agrees.

You narrow your eyes with a huff through your nose. “You haven’t got any feelings. Now let me pass.” you demand, and attempt to cut through them but they’re connected at the shoulders to block your way from your corridor.

“Now that’s what you win if you guess right!” they say together. Did they rehearse this? You frown at them as you recoil, throwing your arm out to your side until your book pats the outside of your thigh.

“What? You scared? We both know you’ve got a little thing for me.” One shrugs.

“And me.” the other adds.

“We’re only helping you along.” they speak at the same time, in annoying twin-synchrony.

You give in. “Do you really think I can’t tell you apart?” Lazily, you point to the boy on the left. “Fred.” It transfers over to the boy on the right. “George.” They exchange another look amongst themselves, and adopt a crestfallen expression as their heads bow, stepping apart so you can enter. “See?” you taunt, passing them by. “Was that so hard? I’ll see you boys later—“

“Not so fast there, birdie.” You halt in your tracks at the sound of him speak. “I��m George.” You sigh hard and hang your head.

“I’m Fred. C’mon then, give us a kiss.” They’d faked you out, or they’re lying. Either way, you concede in order to satiate their egos, drawing back to the place where they wait for you. It’s only a kiss on the cheek anyway, and besides it wouldn’t reveal your true feelings towards your favored twin. You’re just friends, and that’s how it should stay. “Tha’s a good girl. Look at her comin’ back, George. She wants this just as much as we do.”

“A foolproof plan there, Fred, well done.”

“It’s practically your only pick-up line, boys. You could do far better.” you tease, and drop your satchel to the ground where it flops flat hopelessly, and toss your book to land onto the leather. “C’mon then, lean down.” They’re both much taller than you, sort of imposing if they weren’t so approachable when they wanted to be. George goes first, stooping to offer his cheek to you. Sweetly, you hook your arm around his neck for stability when you raise yourself to your toes, planting a chaste peck onto his cheek. His skin warms your nose, and he recedes as you do. When you meet Fred’s gaze, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you feel yourself heat up in anticipation. He does as George did, stooping but it’s a little gentler, dragging it out. There’s a mischievous curl to his lips and you sense he plots something. So you idle while you figure him out, until he interrupts you.

“Oi, wha’s wrong with you? Go on, pay up.” and you snap out of it, doing as you did with George. Your arm hooks loose around his neck, hand splayed on the cuff of his shoulder. While you raise yourself to meet his cheek, the tips of your toes bearing your weight, and things seem to move in slow motion. An arm straps around your waist, arching you into him as he turns at the last second, drawing you into a kiss. A real one. You emit a noise of surprise as he deepens it, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips during your squeak. Out of shock, you take a fair bit of time to register, eyes flying open as you pat hard against his chest. You can’t push him off, but he pulls back after he’s made his point.

Hastily, you adjust your uniform with a gaping mouth. “Fred!” you scold while they snicker, you took notice of how George averted his eyes beforehand, so he’d known of Fred’s trick. Perhaps Fred put him up to it. Some innocent game that allows Fred an in to make a proper move on you. Or some sort of malicious advantage over your feelings. Out of embarrassment or fury, your hands pat hard on each of them, banging your fists against whatever is within reach as their laughs feather out when they flinch and try to catch your hands. When they escape, and you realize you’re desperately tardy, you have to let them go, calling out your vow of revenge after them.

“Where’s that vow of revenge now, ey?” breathless words spoken into your ear as Fred ruts into you. Hidden under the hot covers of your bed, he keeps you close with strong arms encasing you, pressing you to him as you lay on your sides. You claw the sheets for purchase, clutching onto the fabric to keep yourself grounded as he moves inside you. Careful, gentle, deliberate. Everyone’s sleeping. If anyone found out a boy snuck into your girls’ dormitory you’d be toast. His breath sends tingles up your spine, squeezing your eyes shut in the dark as you focus on where your bodies conjoin. Sticky and wet, Fred sheathes fully with a buck of his hips, and involuntarily you whimper. A large hand cups your mouth to silence you. “Keep quiet,” he whispers and you nod against him. “Didn’t take you for a bad girl, birdie, you’re a proper troublemaker.” he tells you, barely audible, his lips moving against your ear as his hips circle, welcomed by your sex, he can’t help but soak a second. “You wanna get caught, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, shaking your head against his hand and you feel his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Is that right?” he goads, unconvinced. He shifts, gradually picking up a steady pace. “Should we give ‘em a real show then?”

[the-bus-called-graveyard-8]

TURNING 10 TODAY: “Snowmageddon!”, which first aired on December 24th, 2013.

“Oh, and Kowalski, a woodchuck would chuck about three logs worth, given a standard diameter of fourteen inches and the typical hardness of an oak. You know, if they could chuck wood.”

[lavcnderhze]

A to P for Fred ❤️

(     *     VALENTINE’S DAY ALPHABET   !    

Demorei um tiquinho pra responder a essa brincadeira aqui, mas como a gente tinha dado um hype no plot, resolvi vir aqui responder algumas coisinhas ❣️

Vou deixar abaixo do corte aqui porque ficou beeeem grande.

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

Por mais que às vezes ele realmente dê presentes, compre coisas caras para a amada, no geral a maior forma de ele demonstrar amor é querendo passar um tempo junto. Se ela precisa estudar o dia inteiro? Ele tá lá fazendo as coisas dele. Se ela precisa de ajuda pra comprar uma verdura que ela esqueceu ali no mercado? Ele vai com ela (ou pra ela). Ele gosta muito de passar um tempo junto, independente de estarem ou não fazendo a mesma coisa.

B   :   BOUQUET.   does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

Fred nunca parou pra pensar nisso. Com uma família tradicional que julgaria qualquer coisa que pudesse abalar sua masculinidade, ele mesmo aprendeu a se repreender mentalmente quando fugia do estereótipo de "machão". Definitivamente, se Daphne puxar o assunto, ele começa a pensar.

C   :   CHOCOLATE.   does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

Ele gosta muitooo de chocolate amargo! Especialmente se tiver um café junto.

D   :   DATE.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

With é um pouco óbvio que com a Daphne!! Where... fico pensando que o Fred é alguém que automaticamente recebe muita atenção. O sobrenome Jones traz para ele uma atenção que por mais que por vezes ele goste, quando se trata de um encontro romântico, ele quer ter privacidade. Por isso imagino ele indo ou para cidades próximas, ou para praias, lagoas ou até mesmo florestas, para poder ter um tempo só dele com a outra pessoa, sem pensar em terceiros.

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Fred ama abraços! O abraço dele é daqueles apertados e demorados, daqueles que você se embrenha todo e esquece por alguns segundos da vida, sabe? Claro, seu abraço nem sempre é assim. Mas é um bom termômetro pra saber o quanto Fred gosta da pessoa: se ele demora mais no abraço, se ele aperta e se o abraço realmente é reconfortante, pode saber que aquele a quem Fred abraça, é importante a ele.

F   :   FLIRT.   is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

No geral sim, mas pelo andamento do plot tô vendo ele bem nervoso de de fato flertar com a Daphne kkkkkk. Ele tá com muito receio pós tudo que aconteceu, tá meio fora de si. E além disso, a Daphne é uma instituição pra ele, então fica mais complexo. Eventualmente ele vai falar isso pra ela, mas ele se sente um garotinho bobo quando tenta expressar interesse nela.

G   :   GIFT.   is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

Fred é daqueles que sabe escolher presente tão bem que dá raiva, sabe? Ele presta atenção nas pessoas, e só da presentes àqueles que realmente quer dar presente, então se convidam Fred para um aniversário, ele não se sente na obrigação de dar presente a menos que tenha uma boa ideia para isso. Aliás, ele dá presentes fora de datas comemorativas, também. Coisas como "vi e pensei em você".

H   :   HEART.   is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

Por mais que fique tentando negar, Fred é um quick heart-giver. Não tem como! Ele realmente é um romântico desenfreado e tem altas expectativas para os namoros e para as pessoas com quem sai. Claro, não é de todo um santo e não é namoradeiro com todas, mas confia muito em seu coração e no que seu instinto diz. Não tem medo de se jogar quando percebe que é o certo.

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Hard to say. Dentro de seu núcleo familiar - o qual esperamos que venha nossas primeiras formas de amor -, o eu te amo nunca foi dito com frequência. Foi dito como formas de seu pai pedir desculpas à sua mãe quando a traía. Quando era pequeno e dizia aos pais, não recebia mais do que um sorriso fraco em sua direção e uma mudança de assunto, tal qual um "está suado, filho, vamos tomar um banho". Não tem costume de dizê-las.

J   :   JEALOUSY.   does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

Pra cacete kkkkk infelizmente. A verdade é que o Fred ainda tá nesse processo de se consolidar internamente. O assassinato de Brad fez com que ele repensasse e revisse muitas coisas: era um rapaz confiante, que sabia tudo de si e que tinha apenas um mundo que sentia que pertencia. Mas agora... parece que tudo anda saindo dos eixos, o que faz com que ele se sinta inseguro. Essa insegurança sai de si e recai no outro como forma de ciúme. Ciúme de amigo, ciúme de namorada, ciúme de tudo... porque sente que agora tudo pode escapar de suas mãos, e que talvez eu não seja o cara tão interessante que já fui um dia.

K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not? 

Boatos de young Fred not a good kisser fizeram com que Fred trabalhasse nisso. É verdade: os primeiros beijos de Fred eram pura e simplesmente um encostar de lábios, uma língua metódica que seguia padrões - horrível. Quando começaram os boatos, e quando uma garota ativamente o disse que "achei que seu beijo seria melhor", Fred foi atrás de melhorar isso, porque o afetou muito. Depois de se acostumar e de ficar mais tranquilo em relação a se seu beijo era bom ou não, foi melhorando. Hoje, dá para dizer que ele é um good kisser (e honestamente ele espera muito que Daphne pense isso).

L   :   LOVE.   who does your muse love?

Sua avó. Seu tio Patrick. Sua cadela falecida Pinky. Daphne. Sua mãe. Finneas, um amigo de viagem. Daphne.

M   :   MOONLIGHT.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Foi dito um pouco no Date! Mas pensando em mais pontual: praia no frio com um cobertor e uma fogueira no período noturno, olhando as estrelas com Daphne.

N   :   NAUGHTY.   what is your muse like in bed?

Fred gosta de um pique mais passionate, de algo intenso, com muito toque e calma quando precisa de calma. É o que ele mais gosta, mas o que geralmente ele tenta fazer é entender o pique da outra pessoa e seguir junto. Não acha que faz sentido fazer algo que seja muito diferente disso. Já teve alguns momentos em que o jeito não encaixou com o da outra pessoa e foram momentos muito estranhos, por isso ele tenta evitar.

O   :   ODE.   does your muse have a way with words?

Sim! Apesar da insegurança que paira sob ele agora, Fred sempre teve muito instinto de liderança, sempre sabendo se comunicar muito bem para conseguir o que queria e para viabilizar o que quer que desejasse. Fora que, poucos sabem, mas ele gosta de escrever.

P   :   PARTNER.   what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

Truth is... o Fred não procura muita coisa, sabe? Ele só quer alguém que se importe com ele e que goste de sua companhia. Pra ele, isso é mais do que o suficiente: ele não é muito exigente, porque viu com o relacionamento dos pais o quanto a exigência machuca. Viu, também, como seus pais procuravam um no outro, coisas que não existiam um no outro, moldando um ao outro para encaixarem. Ele não quer um molde, ele quer alguém (e um alguém bem específico).

[ttentacula]

Everything in his mind falls silent as he's guided to a room where his brother is waiting for him. The sound of Fred's voice comes first, of course it does.

Five years.

It has been five excruciating years since George has heard Fred's voice. Five years since he had the chance to speak to him. Five years since he was able to laugh with him. Boys who used to finish each others' sentences, whose hair fell on their heads in the same messy shades of auburn, whose wardrobes were interchangeable. But George gazed at the boy before him--anxious, directionless, but still with his spirit. And for the first time his reflection isn't standing there in front of him. A curse, really, how they used to live parallel lives and now five stagnant years stands between them.

He knew he had grown thin. Dark circles seemed to encompass his eyes, even on nights when he sleeps for twelve hours. Sometimes he goes days with smiling--even now his lips arch in a chapped strain.

How could any of this be real?

Because Fred, his other half, the light of his soul, the arbiter of his life, was standing there in front of him. Seeing him again was all George had ever wanted. He wanted to howl about how hard things have been without him, but how he's trying his best to get by.

All it takes is a simple greeting, his name, and he joins Fred as he always does, a cascade of tears bubbling over. "A glimpse into your future," he manges the reply. It's not a joke, he's rusty with those, but it's something. And it's enough before he wraps his arms around his twin brother. George is surprised he doesn't just fall through him and land on the ground. Instead he clings to Fred, just as they had five years prior. Only this time, he holds on tight and doesn't let him go.

It occurred to George just as quickly as Fred appeared that he could disappear just as fast. He chose to ignore it and focus on the Fred he saw in front of him. That he could touch and smell and see through glazed eyes. "Now come on, Freddie. You look like you're the one who's just seen a ghost."

The silence was killing him. He could almost say literally, but even to his liking, that joke fell flat. His fingers tugged at the tangles, the mess of hair he had created during the questioning as if yanking at the root could keep him grounded —patience was never his virtue, and even in the silence, his mind scattered, just like his memories. It wasn't a slip of the tongue - the clarity the unspeakable gave in their questions alone, what he had passed through - the mediocre archway that had humoured him initially, it seemed like the frail brick arch had given him a new life. it was meant for the dead and he was apparently not the only visitor.

His heart had stopped when he heard it, almost missing it entirely - dead. He hadn't almost died - he wasn't even near death. Fred had died. Grief was as ugly as loss was and he couldn't even comprehend the waves that crashed into him, as he pieced it together - five years. He had lost five years if he could even consider it a loss of time that wasn't his to begin with. He would have lost a lifetime if he hadn't found his way here and to the frustration of the unspeakable - he couldn't pinpoint the start let alone the how.

He stood up - feet aching to move and settle into a pace that matched his unruly heart, discombobulated and anxious -- breaths heavy as the spiral went on and on, he couldn't even say his name, because how could he even begin to apologize for the grief left in his wake. How could he explain to not only his parents, his siblings - his brother, the other half of him that he couldn't even begin to imagine how he could have left, even by something that wasn't his own volition. He remembered when his mum talked about his uncles, the notorious Prewett twins - Fabian and Gideon and even hearing his mum talk about their life, how mourning them would come in waves

denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance - that she had lived her life to make sure theirs wasn't in vain, that she lived with their memory in her heart, he couldn't fathom what the loss of him could have done to her, his dad and to him. he wanted to crumble all over again - he couldn't will the tears to fall and it could have been the anger consuming every second of his mind - about the time that was taken, regret wasn't any kinder.

"I'm not in the mood for more questions --" he muttered as he heard the door crack open, irritated, as if the answers to the questions he answered yesterday would change today, he heard footsteps nearing, a whip of a turn -- he could feel his heart stop.

He didn't need anyone to tell him who he was, he looked different and yet he knew, how couldn't he? They shared nearly every moment of their life together, if he couldn't see it - if he couldn't see his own reflection staring back at him anymore, he could feel it, "George" voice hoarse as finally willed himself to utter his name, he couldn't stop himself from taking a step toward him, "blimey, we're still handsome at twenty-five" and it was as if a dam broke in him, the tears were a free fall ---

@ttentacula

[artofdisneyfairies]

Tinker Bell and The Ring of Belief - Color Script by Fred Cline

- ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ -

[mcytblrconfessions]

I DESPISE qsmp Fred fanon design, make that worker short and chubby NOW. The moment qtubbo has a love interest you make them super tall and muscular like whyy you're all sooo boring

[alegitdumbass]

Art and Fred video(from the channel) isn't mine, they belong to their respective owners. I'm gonna make god regret giving me talents.

Teehee

[rabid-dog-steve-horn]

I think it should be Friday the 13th on Scooby Doo, but either way.

Enjoy.

[funkyllama]

“The Way We Were,”

Act Two, Scene Twenty-One, “Girl at the Rock Show.” Last / Beginning / Next Transcript below the cut!

[Adrienne] Lordkanzler.

[Fredrik] Princessin.

[Adrienne] I was hoping to gain more of an in, specifically regarding the status- or, placement of my son.

[Fredrik] With respect, Ma’am, I think this conversation is fit for a more private location. If you stop by my office on Tuesday, I’ll be sure to let you in.

[CUT]

[Raheem and Viola dancing at a bar concert]

[Viola] I love you, so much.

[kiss]

[devilsmenu]

@rcvcrics - Astoria & Fred

Pit trap

Toria stopped on her tracks once she noticed the pit in front of her and tilted her head having an idea. She turned to face Fred. "Hey, would you like to enter that pit?".

[jvlthecookiesblog]

I may have remembered that clone high existed and yeah...

This is Rodge and Chente, best friends (They don't even know how but it is what it is)

[fadeintoyou1993]

insane how people will make literally anything that is strictly about robin and nancy and their dynamic about men like it's remarkable y'all should capitalize on that there's definitely a market for it

[zerofcksgvn]

@fredelicious24​ comic shopping!

Zane squinted at the comics on the shelves, down on his hunkers trying to make out the titles. He had gotten so overwhelmed when he first entered the store that it took him ten minutes to remember what he came in for. Standing upright again he sighed before making his way the counter, having mentally prepared his speech. “Um hey-- sorry, do you have anything on like supernatural stuff-- like ghosts and zombies?” he asked. “I hope that doesn’t sound as weird to you as it does to me.”

[valeroyeaux]

hello beloved followers have i told unto you the good news of my oc winifred von ormir carrying orphaned wyverns in a baby sling while she works on prosthetic wings

[ihaveitprinteddout]

O H MY GOSHHHHHH 😭 Little Daisy is usually the cutest and dad!Fred truly melts my heart 😭 I can't wait to read more of this little family!!!

my girl (f.w.)

prompt: you always knew fred would be a great dad and every day he exceeds your expectations

pairing: dad! fred x mom! reader

warnings: pregnancy, hospitals, children (yes, children is a warning), mild language, suggestion and brief mention of sex, thunderstorm, fear of thunder/rain.

word count: 6.2k

author’s note: THIS BITCH SO LONG IM SO SORRY this is the last installment of the 60s writing challenge!! thank you to everyone who has tuned in!!

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @kaseyrose96-blog​ @hufflepuff5972 @valwritesx @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley​ @amourtentiaa @sweeterthansammy​ @gryffindcrghost​ @wand3ringr0s3​

It was laughable; the way Fred stared at your large pregnant belly with eyes full of anticipation, hands placed on either sides of it, waiting for your child to kick at his hands. You giggled as he gently whispered to your protruding stomach, “Come on, little one. It’s your daddy. Give us a little kick, yeah?” Your stomach remained still as he lightly groaned, only making you laugh. “This child already likes keeping me on my wit’s end,” he grumbled before kissing your belly. “I’m just teasing,” he whispered again to the bump. “I love you so much.”

You brush your fingers through Fred’s hair, him sighing as you do. Fred had been so darling over the past nine months of your pregnancy. He found more staff for the joke shoppe to take over the early morning shifts and the night shifts so he could spend those hours taking care of you, helping around the house, and preparing for the baby’s arrival. You were always Fred’s number one priority, but that was set in stone after you became pregnant. He would literally drop anything if you even murmured that you needed something. Fred would wake up first and get your prenatal vitamins ready for you to drink with a large glass of water, he’d make breakfast, clean the kitchen, and only then would he wake you up. You had to admit, you could get used to living like this. But alas, you were past your due date and the baby was expected any day now.

“She loves you too, Freddie,” you tell him as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at your husband who still rubs his hands over your stomach, searching for your unborn baby’s feet.

Fred looks up at you with questioning eyes. “She?” Fred could honestly care less about the sex of his child, as long as the baby was healthy. That’s all he could truly ask for. But secretly, deep down, Fred wanted a little girl, a princess. Someone who could be his princess since he had already found his queen.

You smiled with a shrug, “I have a feeling. I know it’s supposed to be a surprise, but when you know you know, don’t you?”

With that, against the skin of your stomach, pressed against Fred’s hand is two large kicks. Fred’s eyes widen as he sits up, feeling his child kick against his hands as the two of you laugh. Fred smiles wide and says, “Is that a sign?” he stares up at you with excited eyes as you cover your mouth laughing with glee. “Is that right, baby? A little girl?” he whispers to your belly, earning another two strong kicks as the two of you laugh out with delight. “A little princess and a strong one at that!” he cheers. “We’ve got a little football player on our hands, don’t we? Well, too bad, because your daddy is going to teach you all about quidditch.”

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