#my fred thursday bullshit continues ;-)

[mywingsareonwheels]

Some things that Morse doesn't know about Thursday in s9 of Endeavour (and may in fact never find out).

(Spoilers behind the cut, also CW references to child abuse, alcoholism, violence, and a mention of elder abuse.)

that Thursday taking the job in Carshall was Bright's idea, not Thursday's, and that Thursday needed to be talked into it by Bright specifically because he knew he'd be leaving Morse behind and was unhappy about this for both their sakes. (Honestly I adore Bright and I think he was right to do this, and right in gently encouraging Thursday in s8 to let Morse move on and grow away from them all, but it is still an important distinction!)

that Thursday missed him achingly when he was away (although I think that scene late in 9.1 makes it clear that Thursday would have told him if he'd thought Morse could cope with it... ;-)).

that Sam had a dishonorable discharge, which the family are covering up not because they're ashamed of him, but because they want to protect him.

the full extent of how unwell Sam is and how much this is manifesting in behavioural problems (although Morse has noticed a fair amount of this and knows something is extremely up, but the full degree of it, and how badly it's affecting the whole family? I don't know). Thus, the extent of exactly how desperately worried Thursday is.

that Thursday is a child abuse survivor, specifically of physical abuse from an alcoholic, and that this is his first time in adulthood sharing his home with an angry alcoholic who is (now Thursday is older and Sam in something like his prime, alcohol aside) physically stronger than he is.

(the punch at Strange's stag do is so much more upsetting in that context, I note, as is Thursday's instinctive placation. There's paternal kindness and loyalty and generosity in that moment, but I think there's an old trauma reaction too; it read to me awfully like an emotional flashback. It is extremely fortunate that Sam is very decent indeed deep down, seems shocked by his own action, and is doing better by the end of the episode. Sam is one of two men (the other being Morse) that I would not trust Thursday to even try to defend himself against.)

that Thursday finally gave into Lott's blackmail over Blenheim Vale at the point that Morse's life was threatened. When he talks about the pressures via "family"... he meant Morse, not just Win, Joan, Sam, Charlie, and (arguably) Strange. There were a range of threats, but that seems to have been the final straw, especially as it was the most explicit.

the phone call Thursday got from Ronnie Box trying to encourage him to get out of the situation (and Thursday refusing; he may have taken a while to talk into the new Blenheim Vale investigation but he wasn't going to abandon it once committed until it was that or let people he loved get killed; when the threat was only against himself, nah, nothing doing).

that Lott tried to kill Charlie, and Thursday still doesn't know where Charlie is; what Charlie's done to Thursday is horrible but still, yikes.

that Thursday was dreadfully worried about Morse at the wedding (that's Word of Roger, rather than in the script, mind you, but it would be extremely out of character if he hadn't been).

Morse does go through an awful lot in series 9, but the sheer fricking trauma conga line of Thursday's life in that series, all while he's trying to pretend everything's just fine... ouch.

None of it justifies Thursday's serious fuck-ups and wrongs in 9.3 of course! But I think it's absolutely crucial not to see Thursday entirely through Morse's eyes at any point in s9, because there's such a lot that Morse doesn't know, and for the first time Morse is liable to be far too harsh on his old mentor, not too gentle on him. Thursday is not okay at any point in series 9, and seems to spend the whole of 9.3 breaking down.

(I hope it goes without saying that I am very much of the opinion that Thursday should have told Morse at least some of all this!! But I find it very understandable that he didn't, especially as mostly he wasn't protecting himself, but Sam. Gaaaaah it's all so tragic!)

(Yep, I know I keep saying this, but I actually would find it deeply out of character for both Shaun Evans' Morse and John Thaw's Morse to reject Thursday and even his memory entirely for what happened. Even with the v limited data he knows. Protecting him by never talking about him to anybody while sharing a detailed (if perhaps coded) correspondence with him for the rest of the time they're both alive? Infinitely more likely. And can't you just see Thaw's Morse being that leeetle bit silently smug about still being closer to Strange's father-in-law (or possibly ex-father-in-law) than he is. ;-) )

[darthwheezely]

okay im backkkkk 💌 anything kinda angsty for fred pls (like a break up but theres a bit of making up at the end pls

resentment and reconciliation- f.w. hcs

Warnings: this one kinda hurt to write I’m ngl, I love you Jess but DAMN - cussing probably, mentions of slut shaming, actual smut, a lOT OF ANGST, hateful!fred

THIS WILL BE SO UNGODLY LONG THIS IS BASICALLY A PSUEDO ONE SHOT

people that might like this(?): @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @theweasleyslut @loony-loopy-lupinn @lupinsclassroom @vivianweasley @oh-for-merlins-sake @kitwalker02 @tatesimper @gcdric @slytherinsunrise @lumosandnoxwriting

you and Fred were friends...

...simply friends

yep

mhm

only friends

friends that liked to casually dominate each other multiple times a week

sometimes multiple times a day

but regardless of your entirely messy relationship, you were best friends

...weren’t you?

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight me,” Fred hissed as he was pounding inside of you, determined to release some kind of frustration from seeing you with George for the whole day when you both knew you had really just wanted to spend the day with Fred. Right?

“Freddie, you feel so good” you said airily as he hiked up one of your legs onto one of his shoulders.

“Yeah, princess? You like the way I fill you up so good, make you fucking mine?” When you moaned in response he threw your other leg onto the opposite shoulder, determined to show you just how much you were his, and what that meant for him. He had been watching you for months pretend nothing was happening outside this room, and regardless if you knew it or not, it had been killing him the day he agreed to your rendezvous the first time.

“Yes, Freddie, fuck, yes”

“Gonna come for me, sweet girl?”

“God, yes, Fred-“ and with a harsh thrust to your g-spot you clenched around him tightly, your body releasing onto him in a massive wave. He put his free hand that didn’t have your arms pinned above you to your clit, determined to have you as overstimulated as possible.

“Fred, please-“ you whined vehemently at his rough touch.

“I’m coming baby, I’m right here” and with a final pound he had smoothed your walls with him, the throbbing finally subsiding. He rolled his hips slowly to ride out his high, and he then pulled out, falling to your side and pulling you into his arms. He could feel your heart pounding as your breasts heaved against him, desperate for air flow where he had rid you of it all.

“We haven’t held each other like this in a while, Freddie...it’s...it’s really nice.” You whispered against his bare chest, pressing a kiss or two there. He nodded and buried his mouth in your hair, fluttering his eyes.

“I promise I’ll take every opportunity to hold you, okay?”

that was tuesday

let’s skip to Thursday morning

you had only told one other person about your complicated relationship with Fred, and that was Hannah Abbot

you trusted her, you saw her as your BEST friend

but unfortunately, good ol’ hannah didn’t really feel the same

she had it out for you when Roger Davies had confessed he had a crush on you at the Yule Ball, kissed you even, against your consent

see, he was Hannah’s date

and she didn’t like that very much

to top it allllll off?

she had been casually crushing on Fred ever since she had her heart broken by Roger

so now here you all were, seventh year and you assumed as per usual that everything was fine

when clearly, unbeknownst to you

this bitch saw you six feet under

so Hannah did what she knew would hurt you the most

she told Roger :)

“Please he’s absolutely balls deep in love with her, but poor thing doesn’t know she’s using him for a roll in the sack.” Said Hannah, filing her nails in the courtyard. Roger looked at her absolutely dumbfounded.

“No, Y/N, isnt like that. And besides, Fred’s a good mate of mine and...She just wouldn’t do that to him. Feelings or not, she’s not one to use people.” He shook his head starting to get up from the tree he’d been leaning on.

“Well, she used you, didn’t she?” She purred demurely. He turned to look at her, jaw clenched.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He gritted out.

“She’s making him her personal whore, exactly like she did when she rejected you at the Ball...I mean...cmon, Rog. Don’t people deserve to know who she really is?”

everyone had heard the next day how Y/N was fucking Fred Weasley like an Olympic sport

and how he wasn’t the one coming out on top for the first time

at first he didn’t know what he did when he walked into the Great Hall to stares and whispers

George had tried to get him to go back to bed so he could bring him food

but fred demanded answers

and when he found out what it was

...he was crushed

You walked into the cascading staircase, bounding up the stairs. It was Thursday night, you and Fred’s night to be alone while George and Lee would be hanging out. You walked into the room to see Fred, throwing things onto his bed and looking angry and...hurt?

“Fred, what-what is all this?” He didn’t look at you, just continued to pick stuff up off the floor, and got one of your bras. He threw it at you.

“It’s all your shit, Y/N. Might as well help since this is the last time you’ll ever be in my room. Or around me again quite frankly.” He started to look down again and keep working but he heard you whimper and his eyes flashed up to yours. He started to laugh harshly. “Oh my god, stop.” He rolled his eyes and threw his arms out. “You got what you wanted from me didn’t you, Y/N? Quick shag and no feelings and knowing you had an entire fucking human being completely and utterly devoted to you with, what did Ron say? ‘Half the commitment’?” He smiled at you but it was one with rage, with tears pooling at his eyes, pain emitting off his body in hot waves. He didn’t even know he was shouting.

“I mean, Jesus, I’m in love with you and you got to go on and-and fuck whoever you want because guess what at the end of the day you get to tell everyone that Fred fucking Weasley is your own personal whore and would do anything for you and that just got you where you wanted it didn’t it? Didn’t it?” He had stopped yelling, his heart pounding as he took in the sight of you fully in tears now, flinching at him quietly. He felt immediately then like he was going to throw up, something wasn’t right, you usually were so fiery and assertive and here you were looking like a dog that got kicked repeatedly. He swallowed thickly. “Get your stuff and get the fuck out I can’t stand the sight of you.”

Without looking at him you reached onto his bed and grabbed everything you could carry, and swiftly left the room. Everyone in the Gryffindor common room, except George, looking at you with pure unbridled disdain.

George was the only it seemed, that cared about you at this time for the next couple weeks

He didn’t tell Fred, but it had been George that had been sneaking up food to you in your dorm room

It had been George that had sent you little notes in class that said things like

I love you, Y/N. I believe in you, okay?

He even visited your dorm one day when you couldn’t move so much as one leg off your bed, and he caught you then, while you were sobbing about the loss of Fred and yourself and he held you and put you back in bed

and waited until you fell back asleep and moved the hair out of your face

he needed to tell Fred the truth

meanwhile, Fred was floundering

he had fallen back into his coping mechanism of sex and violence, mostly the first one

he had started hooking up with virtually everyone in his year that he’d ever rejected

after all - fred was labeled as a slut so why not act like one

if there was anything Fred was good at, it was being loud

in bed it had never been an issue - in fact, it was a talent now, yeah?

he’d been hearing it around school for weeks now

how easy he was

how much he would do to get in a girl’s pants

how he dipped his wick in anything that moved

anything and everything

he got it from girls

“c’mon freddie can i take a ride just once”

to the guys

“Oi freddie, you let your mates hit it for free too?”

if it were from a guy he’d usually swing a punch

or 12

he’d gotten in his most fights that he ever had in any of his years at hogwarts

but then Georgie came along:

George had waited on Fred’s bed, as his twin was in the shower. Lucky for Fred, George had been able to trace Roger’s little dip in the gossip system all the way back to Hannah Abbott, who everyone knew was bullshit, and had decided to let his brother know exactly what kind of a supreme asshat he was being to their best friend (and the love of Fred’s life, let’s be super honest.)

“Georgie, what the hell are you doing-”

“About to give you the whip cracking of your life, dear brother.” George swung his legs off the bed as Fred continued to dry his hair in the mirror, rolling his eyes.

“Is this about the last girl I had by? We didn’t fuck on your bed if that’s what you’re so worried about.” Fred quipped and George took everything in his power to not bitch slap the hell out of his older twin. George clenched his jaw and rolled it.

“You fucked up, Freddie.” He said quietly. Fred turned slowly to look at him. “Excuse me?”. “You. Fucked. Up.” George said a bit louder. “Y/N got played. By Hannah Abbott and Roger Davies. She’s had a crush on you this whole time, you absolute dumb piece of shit.” And then George did push Fred then backwards onto the bathroom wall, but he was too dumbfounded by the usually sensible twin’s behavior to do anything back.

“That’s-I don’t understand-“

“Oh my god, Fred. Hannah’s been in love with for ages, she lied. To everyone. Roger did too, he’s wanted to get with Y/N since day 1 you know that just as well as I do.” Fred tightened his arm, thinking about Roger with his lips and arms on you that night last year-

“Your point? She still said that shit about me” he said gruffly, but a pool of anxiety swirled in his stomach all the same

“Don’t you get it? Y/N is in love with you. She didn’t say or do anything to hurt you. At all. She hasn’t been eating, she hasn’t been doing homework, she throws up constantly, she’s barely left bed but to go to the library and usually all she does there is sleep anyway, she cries all the time and it’s been me making sure she still is present if not to just see people every damn day! So quit youre moping and fix this shit or I swear to God, Freddie, I’ll knock your block off.” George was heaving, pools of water in his eyes as he swallowed. “She’s my best friend too, you know.”

Fred looked up at George then and had started to cry. All of those things he said, all of the words he spat at her like they could burn her skin and cause some of the pain he believed she had caused him, when in reality you had-you had done nothing wrong.

“Georgie, I’m sorry” he choked.

“I know you are. But I’m not the one to say it to right now...you’ve gotta find her, Freddie. Please.”

you had been in the corner of the quidditch stands

the wind was blowing against your hair

you couldn’t be in your room anymore, it started to smell like you

and you, prior to an hour ago, didn’t smell too appetizing

you reeked of sweat and tears and your own sick

you took a shower so hot you wanted it to burn you alive

maybe sanitize the last of your fear and your hurt away

you had lost weight, you had lost feeling

you all in all had just lost

and you had never wanted to go home so badly, already considering writing home

you hated being reminded that your best friend and crush hated you

wanted you to be hated by everyone else too

but then, you heard footsteps

“Y/N?” Fred whispered to himself as he saw you in the stands. You looked so worn, so lifeless sitting there - he almost didn’t recognize you from the way your hair, usually scrunched up and bouncy had fallen flatly against your face, further slapped around by the wind outside. You had been wearing an oversized sweater and your sweatpants had pooled around your ankles. Simply put, you were miserable. 

“Y/N?” He called again once he was standing in front of you. You turned to look at him in what felt like slow motion, but when you locked eyes with him, you immediately felt fearful. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll leave now” you sputtered

“No, hey, wait, please” he reached out to grab your arm and you froze, letting him take it. He looked at you, with a flash of fear and worry on your face and he wanted to throw up knowing he was the one that made you feel like that.

“Fred, please let go” you hoarsely whispered.

“No, love, I’m not going to let go I have some things to apologize for.”

You started to cry, eyes dropping again to his hand on your arm and breathing feeling suddenly like a very hard task. “You hate me now: you sobbed and you pulled yourself from his grip, turning away from him and gathering your bag. He started to scramble for your hold again tears starting to stream down his face

“No, angel, please, I could never hate you”

“Oh? What about those things you said to me in your room-” you were walking faster over the benched seats, making your way to the other side.

“I know I know I said those things in my room but I can’t believe them because you have to believe me when I tell you I’m in love with you” and he was sobbing at your body turned away from him. You turned to look at him with a skeptical quirk of your face.

“No, no you don’t.” You spat.

“Yes, Y/N, I do please let me explain” he said earnestly taking in your bright eyes and the furrow of your brow.

“People who love each other don’t scream at them and throw things.” You said flatly. You wanted him to be true but you couldn’t make yourself believe him.

“Just give me five minutes of your time and-and if you hate me you never have to see me again. Please.” He closed the gap between you two and motioned for you to sit down. You licked a tear from your lip and nodded siting on a bench besides him.

“Hannah and Roger told everyone-”

“I know what happened. What they did. I want to hear about you. And what you said. And are saying” you looked at him in the eyes with steel burning behind your irises.

He sighed and rubbed his jaw. “I thought that what we had was purely sex in your eyes. And I was too much of a coward to ever ask you, so when I heard someone tell me that my own insecurities could possibly be true,” he inhaled a harsh breath as tears started to fall “I-I was crushed. By the idea that you saw me as what other people saw me as...as a toy? I guess? Or a sexual prop? To use when you wanted. But I hide my feelings a lot as you know, so even if you did feel that way, it would’ve looked like I agreed because I hate you knowing how sad I am,” he started to choke on his tears, the anguish of knowing he hurt you this much was too much for him to ever be able to handle. “I just wanted to hold you and whisper in your ear and tell you how much I love you and the thought of my own fears being true pushed you away. And you never have to forgive me. I-when I yelled at you like that I wanted to see you hurt, I think. I wanted you to see how sad it made me to think about you with other people like you had been with me and” he took a final breath and you pulled his body into you. “Y/N, my love I’m so sorry.” His sobs shook your body, the feeling and angle of the destroyed boy you love shaking you everywhere. You pressed kisses to his head. “Freddie, I love you” you repeated “I love you here and here and here and here and here” and with every kiss you gave him, you were determined to soothe him. “I-I’ sorry too, for not being as forthright with you about how i felt too. It’s always been you, Freddie.” He choked out a watery smile and he leaned in to kiss your face everywhere he could, his tears stinging against the wind and your cheeks. 

“If-If you could ever be with me I will always be open to it at any time, you know that don’t you? I-I understand if you can’t.” He held his forehead to yours, his nose brushing yours ever so slightly. 

“Freddie, I love you. You were who I missed when I couldn’t get out of bed for fuck’s sake you’re all I want,” and he leaned into you then fully, capturing your wet and chapped lips against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he melted into you like this

this

this was fred weasley

[acockius]

dancing on my own.

hello, lovelies! i was really in my feelings yesterday, and this piece kind of just flowed out of me. i’ve never written for rog but really admire all of the lovely people on this site who do. this is purely self-indulgent, so sorry if it’s awful. it also helps to listen to Dancing on My Own by Calum Scott to get you into the feels. 

roger taylor x reader ; 2,052 words ; straight up angst and sadness, swearing, semi-smut 

You fought the cold night air as you took your last few steps towards the door of the pub you worked at. A cigarette dangled from your lips and you stole a long drag from it before stomping it out on the concrete. With all of the bullshit life had been throwing at you as of late, you were actually looking forward to work for a change.

Your coworker, Marcy, emerged from the bar, her arms slung over her chest and hands grasping her elbows to remain warm.

“What, are you crazy?” You started, running your hands down her bare arms. “It’s feckin’ freezing out here, babe. Get inside!”

“I tried to catch you on the telly before you left your flat, but I missed you.” Marcy cut you off. “Ed’s giving you the night off.”

“Don’t be daft. He knows I need the money. You know I need the money…” You narrowed your eyes at your coworker and confidante. “Marc-“

“He’s got a new girl…” Marcy broke the news to you in a sympathetic tone.

If your body wasn’t already tingling from the cold temperature, the news of that made you lose all feeling and sense of self. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did - because you already knew your ex boyfriend better than most.

“‘Course he does… He’s Roger Taylor, after all.” You reminded with a shrug. “Just ‘cause he settled down with me for a couple’a months doesn’t mean that he’s lost his old ways.”

The break up was as amicable as it could’ve been. You weren’t seeing eye-to-eye, and there was no love between the two of you anymore. You’d suspected he wasn’t being loyal, and he was fed up with your accusations. You decided that you’d rather cut ties with him now and give him the benefit of the doubt than catch him in the act that you’d never be able to forgive him for. He didn’t fight to keep you as his, which was all the confirmation you needed to know that the decision was probably for the best. 

You’d met Roger at the pub you worked at. You were a waitress there and he was a drummer for one of the bands who played there quite often. From the first time he’d laid eyes on you, he was determined to make you his. Even if it meant winks while a groupie whispered in his ear or a lustful gaze as you brought him a drink before Smile’s set. He’d spent weeks dazzling you before the two of you finally wound up locked in the women’s bathroom during last call.

“I’m not letting you put yourself through this.” Marcy said with a hand on your shoulder. “I’m giving you my tips from the shift and you’re taking the night off.”

“I’m a big girl.” You were slightly offended that she could think otherwise. “I broke up with him, remember?”

After becoming comfortable with each other, you began to catch him exchanging looks with other girls, much the way he did you when you first met. You’d addressed it, and he blamed it on maintaining the rockstar image. You stopped buying that once you caught his hands skim way too low on a fan’s bum one night. She drunkenly pecked the corner of his mouth and he didn’t stop her - even after he realized you were watching.

“S’all part of the game, love. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Guess I don’t mean anything either.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt….” Marcy’s tone was so sympathetic that it irked you.

“I’m not his to hurt. Not anymore.” You kissed her temple and pushed past her, fighting your way into the pub.

It was packed, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for a Thursday night. Smile was currently performing, and you fought your way behind the bar, removing your leather jacket and scarf. Ed watched you tie an apron around your waist and furrowed his brow.

“Reporting for duty, fearless leader.” You crooned over the crowd, hand over your brow to salute. Ed just grumbled and shook his head. He was a man of few words to begin with.

You’d worked your way out from behind the bar and into the crowd, tending to patrons and collecting dirty glassware. You walked past a booth at the back of the bar and upon realization of who you’d just sauntered passed, your heart sank. It was the usual spot where the girlfriends of the band sat. You just didn’t expect to find someone fill your place so quickly.

She sat sandwiched between Veronica and Mary, with bright eyes as she watched the performance. She was beautiful - stunning, in fact. You’d realized you’d stared too long after Mary had offered a sympathetic smile.

You just quickly looked away and fought to fill your drink orders in a timely manner. You felt a squeeze to your shoulder and a kiss to your hair as Marcy walked past you with a full tray. She’d shagged the band’s lead guitarist but didn’t toy with the idea of doing anything but. Thankfully for her, Brian May was ever the gentleman and never made things awkward for her.

There was a different dynamic between your relationship with Roger and Marcy’s with Brian. You loved Roger, and the four of you knew that. This was just the price you’d have to pay for being so naive. You knew Roger was a playboy, but you fell for him anyway. Marcy and Brian were both two level-headed individuals who didn’t let their past get in the way of existing in the same space. You hoped to be able to reach that point with Roger some day.

You cursed under your breath when Smile’s set ended, the realization that you’d probably have to wrap up the night as the band lingered for the remainder of the evening. The reason why your friend was trying to send you home became more and more apparent as the night unfolded.

The music that replaced the band was lively and the crowd was loving it. It kept most folks there. They kept drinking, and kept tipping, so you kept on working. You’d willingly accept anything to distract yourself from the discomfort your were experiencing.

Your first cringey encounter of the night with a member of Smile was when you’d had to squeeze past Freddie, balancing a full tray of drinks in your hands.

“Looking beautiful as always, love.” He shouted over the music.

The compliment was laced with such pity that it made your stomach churn. Having to distance yourself from the entire band was hard on you because you cared for all of them. You and Freddie were the closest and cutting yourself off from that friendship hurt nearly as much as losing Roger did.

“Thanks, Fred!” You yelled back and kept walking.

You dealt out your tray and returned to the bar with full stacks of glasses to wash. You’d developed quite the talent for finishing this task with ease. However, you hadn’t realized that Brian had appeared in front of you, trying to get your attention with a warm smile.

When you finally caught onto the presence in front of you, you smiled apologetically and slung the bar rag over your shoulder.

“Sorry about that. You know how I get once I get onto a task. What can I do you for?”

“Not to worry,” Brian started. “Hate to bother you, but we’ve done our best to flag Marcy down for a round but she’s swamped at the moment.”

You looked at the spot behind Brian’s shoulder, where the view of their table was visible. The three couples sat in the booth, each preoccupied with something different. But you couldn’t keep your eyes off of your old flame and his one.

His grin lit up the very dark room, his new girl tucked pleasantly against his side. Her mouth peppered kisses against Roger’s jaw and his thumb caressed her cheek. Your own skin felt hot as the feeling of his calloused thumb teased your memory.

You forced a smile and shook your head.

“Never a bother, Bri.” You stated as you began to prep fresh glasses for the table. “The usual?”

Brian nodded, gripping the lip of the bar before speaking up.

“Plus, a lager - for…” Brian started, trying to finish the sentence diplomatically.

“A lager for the lady. And the usual. Coming right up!” You pat Brian’s hand and then shooed him away.

“Thanks. See you in a bit!” Brian lingered, trying to find the words he wanted to follow up with before surrendering and heading back to his table.

You could make the group’s drink order in your sleep by now. Still, you found your hands shaking as you poured their cocktails this time around. A gentle hand came to your wrist and you were met with your coworker’s smile.

“I’ve got it, hon. If you wanna go collect more glasses…” She lovingly caressed your wrist and you waved your hand dismissively.

“Thanks, Crys… But I’ve got this.” You countered in your most convincing tone.

Crystal nodded and begrudgingly left your side as you began to stack the drinks of your tray. You were thankful that your coworkers had banned together to get you through this shitty situation. They’d watched your romance with Roger spark, ignite, and then detonate before their eyes. They were cordial because they had to be, but they were defensive and protective of your feelings otherwise.

The world seemingly slowed as you made your way to Smile’s resident table with their drinks. There were seven occupants at the booth but only five gave you their attention as you approached.

“Hello, lovely!” Mary offered as you dropped her drink on a coaster in front of her. “I love your earrings.”

“Thanks.” You nodded as you continued to pass out the drinks, offering smiles to Deaky and Veronica.

You pretended that you didn’t see one of Roger’s hands hidden under the skirt of his new girlfriend as you placed their drinks of in front of them. Their lips were dancing against each other’s, too busy to thank you for just doing your job.

You almost scoffed when a stack of bills fell upon your tray, waking you from your daze. You placed it back down on the table and narrowed your eyes at Brian.

“No…” You scolded with the point of a finger. “Never.”

Brian sighed and then nodded as he took back the money. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy, folks!” You offered with an awkward wave, before quickly disappearing from their table.

Marcy was on your heels almost immediately, lips near your ear.

“What the actual feckin’ hell?” she asked in a whisper.

“They couldn’t get your attention. So, Brian came to me and ordered for them.” You shrugged, fighting back tears.

“A lager? And you paid for it?” Marcy nearly gagged. “Who orders a -“

“Me! I used to. When I was her.” You replied. “Because I never really drank it anyway. Was too busy getting fingered under the table, honestly.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t -“ Marcy stammered.

“I need a cigarette.” You mumbled and pushed your tray into her hands.

You weaved your way through the crowd and snuck out the back entrance, pulling the pack from your waistband and lighting a cigarette immediately. The long initial inhale that you took wasn’t enough to calm your nerves, and you were unfazed by the cold air that danced around your bare arms and legs.

You were startled when the back door jolted open and Roger and his lover shuffled past you. They climbed into the back of the band’s van with a series of giggles and slammed it shut behind them. The loud sound triggered your tears, after working so hard to hold them back all night.

Roger didn’t owe you anything at this point. You were broken up, and everything you had was in the past. However, you hadn’t expected to be completely ignored by him the entire night. It was like you weren’t even there.

Was it always like this for him? When you were with him, did the rest of the world melt away and was the only thing that existed for him you? You’d never know.

[nonpracticinghumanbeing]

I may have disliked a lot about this season, but I love literally all the scenes between Thursday and Morse. Also, as someone wrote somewhere in addition to one of my gifsets, people may complain about the writing, but noone ever complains about the acting. And this is literally a masterclass in acting. I mean, Allam has two Laurence Olivier Awards, so that's what you can expect.

You're right that's it's so completely different from their relationship in S7. They were so terrible to each other (that is it was mostly Morse who was terrible to Thursday) that they even managed to piss Max off with their bullshit, and that says a lot seeing that he is literally the calmest and softest person around. And yet Fred still went to Venice after Morse and literally saved his life from Ludo, even though they weren't even talking to each other at that point.

And then we have this. Fred's been giving Morse hints that he sees his drinking problem throughout the whole eighth series. He tried to spare him the embarrassment of stating it clearly, but here it reached the point where he has to be brutal and use some tough love. He's so clearly distressed and terrified of losing Morse.

I think two things are worth mentioning here. Firstly, we learn that alcohol was what killed Thursday's father. So he is probably painfully aware of just how bad it can get if Morse continues like this. Secondly, I think he feels at least a bit guilty, as it was him who bought Morse that first beer way back in Overture. So at this point he's willing to do everything that's in his power to save Morse, no matter how painful it is for both of them.

I said it before and I'll say it again: he's more of a father to Morse than his real dad ever was. In his letter to Joan in Zenana Morse wrote that he burned all his bridges, but this particular bridge apparently isn't flammable. As it should be with parents, something that Morse wouldn't sadly know.