#(Not me feeling so so proud when I was done and realized I had unintentionally put a crack over his heart lmao)

[another-clive-blog]

So we're doing bugs now uh ? Cool cool cool. I can work with that.

(Timeline hopper Clive by @samthecookielord !)

[mimisempai]

Masterpiece

Summary

When Crowley challenged Aziraphale to sketch him live, he didn't expect the angel's conditions: to choose the pose, the location, and what to wear. 

Or how Aziraphale draws Crowley half-naked...

Notes

Having been a little busy today, I've just finished this light little story...

Day 22 : Blushing

On Ao3

Rating T -  1204 words

"Crowley, stop moving now." 

Aziraphale had just given the order to the demon without even looking up from his sketchbook.

Crowley took the opportunity of the Angel not having his eyes on him to roll his eyes and reply, "Angel, when I agreed to pose for you, I never thought you'd be so serious and bossy. And especially that I'd have to stay half-naked on that couch for so long."

The demon was proud to have managed to say that without moving an inch.

Aziraphale finally looked at him and sheepishly replied, "I'm almost done. Aren't you too cold?"

Crowley responded with a shake of his head, earning another scolding look before the angel returned to his sketches in his notebook. The demon thought back to what had gotten him there and knew he had only himself to blame.

He'd been surprised that he'd never seen Aziraphale draw, but his notebook had filled up with recent drawings of him, Muriel, people on the street, and he'd asked the angel about it. Aziraphale had confessed that he often drew from memory, and most of the time when Crowley was asleep or away.

Of course, Crowley, unable to resist, had challenged him to draw a live portrait of himself.  

At first, the angel had refused, but at Crowley's insistence and coaxing, he had agreed, but on one condition, which Crowley had accepted without even knowing what it was, so pleased was he that Aziraphale had agreed.

If only he'd known.

The angel's condition was to choose the position, the outfit, and the location. The first was fine, the last too, but the outfit...

The reason the angel asked if he was cold was because Crowley's only garment was a white sheet that covered him to just above his hips and fell in soft folds around his legs, leaving his upper body bare.

Aziraphale said quietly, not looking up, "It won't be long now, my dear, I promise."

Crowley smiled indulgently, he was a little cold to be honest, but the satisfaction of seeing Aziraphale absorbed in something he loved, and being the subject of it as well, made him forget that little inconvenience.

He asked, "Will you show me when it's done?"

Aziraphale nodded and replied, "It's the least I can do if I'm already putting you through it."

He bit the end of his pencil before continuing without looking at the demon, "Now shut up, you're distracting me."

Crowley frowned and replied, "When I talk, I distract you, but you don't mind that I'm half-naked?"

The angel replied as he drew, "Why should that distract me, I'm used to drawing you, I know your beauty."

He didn't realize that his words had unintentionally made the demon silent. Besides, if he'd looked up at that moment, he would have had to add a detail to his drawing, a small shadow on the demon's cheeks, which had just blushed at the words the angel had just spoken so casually.

Crowley had regained his composure when Aziraphale looked up at him again. The demon had to keep from smiling too much, since the angel didn't want him to move, but he was amused by his level of concentration. 

He was really starting to feel cold, but he did his best not to move, even though he longed to pull the sheet over his shoulders.

To distract himself, he studied Aziraphale's face and soon became fascinated by all the facial expressions the angel was making as he continued to sketch, looking up and down at his notebook periodically. 

Crowley couldn't help but smile fondly when Aziraphale suddenly put down his pencil and lowered his notebook, saying softly in an uncertain voice that contrasted with his bossy tone from earlier, "I'm done.

Crowley gathered the white sheet around him and started to stand up, eager to see the drawing. But Aziraphale stopped him by raising a hand and, standing, said quietly, "Stay seated, it's me who's come to show it to you."

When he reached him, Aziraphale pushed aside the few books that had been part of the background of his drawing, sat down next to Crowley, and pulled the plaid from behind the sofa, unfolding it and wrapping it around the demon.

He kissed Crowley's temple softly and said gently, "Thank you for indulging my little whim," before putting an arm around the demon's shoulders and holding him close.

Crowley, happy to feel the warmth spreading through him, snuggled even closer to Aziraphale and playfully replied, "Well, Angel, I'm the one who wanted you to draw me, so I only have myself to blame. Come on, show me now."

Without letting go of the demon, Aziraphale bent down and grabbed the notebook, handing it to Crowley, who opened it to the last page.

The demon couldn't hold back a gasp of surprise.

Misunderstanding his reaction, Aziraphale asked worriedly, "Is it that bad?"

Crowley shook his head, unable to speak for a few moments, then replied, "Angel, it's... it's gorgeous."

He was in the pose Aziraphale had asked him to take, but instead of on the sofa, he was on a fainting couch, his upper body resting on the stack of books as Aziraphale had arranged it. 

He asked, "Why this particular pose?"

Aziraphale blushed as he replied, "Well, one day I came across a photograph of a sculpture of a woman in that pose, and it immediately reminded me of you. So when you challenged me to draw you live, and I agreed, all I could think of was to depict you in this manner. Thus, my condition."

Crowley, still in awe of the drawing, nodded and asked, "And the name of this sculpture?"

Aziraphale replied, a small amused smile now on his lips, "The icing on the cake, my dear, is that it's called the Allegory of Astronomy.

The angel couldn't help but laugh at the astonished look on the demon's face. 

Then he turned serious again and said quietly, "I'm glad you like it."

Crowley said quietly, "I really like it," and then asked, "So, how does it feel to paint me while I'm present and awake?"

Aziraphale pretended to think and mischievously replied, "Well, it's harder because you're very talkative and you move around a lot."

Crowley exclaimed, "You really are a bit of a bastard sometimes, you know!"

Aziraphale chuckled slightly and replied, "Seriously, it's interesting because of the light and all the things I don't take into account when I draw from memory, but, what was difficult..." He paused for a moment and a cheeky expression spread across his face as he continued, "...was resisting the urge to get up and kiss you."

Not to be outdone this time, Crowley raised his head toward the angel and replied with the same playful expression, "There's nothing stopping you from doing it now."

Aziraphale didn't hesitate and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to the demon's in a lingering, tender kiss.

And, before allowing himself to be swept away by the sweetness of the moment, he thought that no matter how perfect his drawing might be, nothing could beat the perfection of holding the subject of that drawing in his arms.

His beautiful demon.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[neuroprincess]

Fuck Me! - Rebecca Welton/Reader

Rebecca Welton/Female Reader

Summary: Rebecca knows she is working too much and for the first time in weeks has a free morning with her daughter, Lowie.

Classification: Light Angst, Domestic Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: +2700

Unrevised

The blonde looked down at her hands, admiring the work done on the rounded nails painted in an impeccable French line, gleaming against the illumination. And then to the little girl in her front staring expectantly at her, among them a dozen colorful children's nail polishes, some with glitter. She raises an eyebrow analyzing the situation, the day before went to the manicure and hoped to keep it for at least a week. The work schedule consumes all her time, including the few free ones, she barely has time to be with family, much less for self-care as she organizes and prepares the club for the next matches of the soccer season. Rebecca sighs and thinks about what words she should use to refuse to let the child paint her nails. 

"How about I paint yours?" she asks hoping that might divert Marlowe's attention. 

" Alrighty then, I'll choose the colours ." the girl quickly runs to the corner of the playroom, reaching for a colorful decorated box with another dozen nail polishes, some fun stickers too "And I want them all." 

"Lowie..." 

"Mummy..." they stare at each other for a few seconds until the woman sighs in defeat, she loves that her daughter has inherited part of her personality but that could be a problem "I want rainbow colours." 

"That's going to be a lot of work, you're the most demanding customer I've ever had." 

"Don't be silly, Mummy." Marlowe cracks a toothless smile and places both hands on the table, opening the little fingers so they can be painted "I am your only customer." 

"Sometimes your Mama is my customer too." the blonde winks and gets a big smile from the little girl. 

"And I'm always her customer, she paints my nails all the time, sometimes Mama puts stickers and all my friends love it." she nods towards the colorful cards with images of cartoons, flowers and small designs "It's okay if it doesn't look right." 

Rebecca laughs at being reassured about her abilities by a five year old, she can't do wonderful designs or details like her own manicure does, but is sure she must know how to paint in the right spaces. It's something she and Sassy did together as youngsters, having perfect nails...almost all the time. 

"I don't like orange. I want my favorite color." the woman brakes, immediately dropping the bottle in place. She realizes she doesn't know what color it is and a strange feeling makes stomach heavy, maybe guilt "Blue, Mummy. Like your team and Bluey." 

"Oh yes, of course." she looks for the color among the nail polishes, finding it at the bottom of the box, no surprise having glitter, then looks at the tiny hands on the table, it's adorable how chubby they are and the little nails are smudged all around, so knows she overestimated her talent "Stickers?" 

"Please." 

They smile and soon the blonde has all her concentration on not smudging the other nails, making a funny face that unintentionally makes her daughter laugh watching. When finished she smiles happily, proud of herself for not getting it wrong this time. Then picks up the cards, placing them in front of the girl as if they really were at the manicure. All the nails are already painted, this is the final part. 

"I didn't know they existed from Baby Shark." Rebecca comments analyzing the options. 

"It's not sticker, it's tattoo." the surprised and confused expression stamped on her face makes the strawberry blonde laugh again, it's fun for her to see her mom, who knows everything, be lost "Can I do it on you? Please." 

"Mummy has work later, so no, sweetheart." 

"Okay." Marlowe whispers trying to keep a smile, even if she is disappointed. 

Since the Premier League had started a few months ago and AFC Richmond came further than it ever has before, Welton found herself busier than usual, meetings almost every week, there are extensive training sessions and a hundred events she has to attend, many times having to participate in creating them. Sinking more and more into work to the point of hardly seeing the family, leaving too early to say good morning and too late for good night, most of the time finding her wife already asleep, clearly trying to stay awake for her arrival, and her daughter drooling against the pillows. It's a cute and funny image she has when giving Marlowe a goodnight kiss on forehead. And no surprise either because she has been a good sleeper since baby, arms and legs everywhere, good hours of sleep and sometimes even snores. 

"And why are you home today?" she finally asks, when woke up this morning, the only free one in weeks, she thought she was going to spend with her wife, have breakfast and take Lowie to kindergarten together, then something else, instead she was woken up late by the child jumping on the bed and a note from Y/N letting them know she had some appointment. 

"I was sick, I can't go to school until tomorrow. The doctor said it's something with V, but I can't remember what." 

"Virosis?" Rebecca chokes on her own saliva, at breakfast they shared a cup of tea without her having any idea that the girl was sick, which bothers her too, as a mother she is aware that should know about things like that. 

"Yes!" 

"Fuck me!" 

"Yeah! Fuck me!" 

"Marlowe Amelia Welton! Watch your mouth!" she scolds, knowing she would be screwed if Y/N heard that, one of the agreements they made about motherhood is to avoid swearing around her. 

"You said first! It's a good thing, Mummy." the woman widens eyes and sips the glass of water trying to wet dry throat, pure nervousness "That's what you and Mama say when you are in the room and you look happy." and then spits out the whole contents "And the next day I get candy." 

"Oh..." of course, they agreed it would be avoidance around her, but they forgot how loud can be in intimate moments and always counted with the heavy sleep of their daughter sleeping in the next room "It wasn't... but how can that be good now?" she tried to change the subject, it would be too hard to explain. 

"Aren't you happy that I'm sick? That way we can stay home together." Marlowe smiles and blows her nails to dry them faster, a cute little pout "So today I am happy." 

"But you see me at the matches, sweetheart." 

"It's not the same, everyone has you there, sometimes I want to have you all to me, Mummy. When you are home we can watch movies, play and paint, I like when you tell me bedtime stories, sleep by my side and hold me when I am sad. I want you to stay here forever, with me. And with Mama too. Because it's more special." 

The sad and sincere childish words make Rebecca's stomach sink, heart palpitate harder and eyes burn trying to hold back tears, she imagined that Lowie, her little and lovable Lowie, missed her, but hear it from her is something different. It's painful. She realizes how much the little girl appreciates and values the moments they spend together, how much her presence means. 

"And you are sad now?" 

"No, because we are together." Rebecca smiles sadly, trying to hold back the tears and failing, her daughter notices, then faces her worriedly "Mummy, are you sad?" Marlowe doesn't wait for an answer, running out of the chair and around the table to hug her mom, little arms around waist, little face pressed to hip and the blonde's hands caress the little girl's back.  

"It's okay, baby. I'm fine." as she is about to let go the woman holds her against her own body and leaves a kiss in hair, inhaling the sweet smell of shampoo "But I still want your hug. The best hug in the world. I love you, sweetheart."  

"I love you more, Mummy. And I know, Mama says it all the time. I'm all perfect, from the tip of my toe to the last strand of my hair."  

"Cocky, isn't you?!"  

"I don't know what it means."  

"Means you're really perfect." the childish giggle soon takes over as Rebecca takes advantage of the low guard and tickles her armpits, grabbing her on lap to do it on her tummy as well.  

"I... I ... I surrender, Mummy!" she manages to say between giggles, those are the magic words they use every time playing with each other.  

"Oops, your nails got smudged." Rebecca points to the colorful nails, polish all over her fingers, a total mess.  

"It's okay, it was already smudged." is the only response from the little girl who gets off her mother's lap, knowing she would be caught up again, little legs running to the kitchen counter, where she stops remembering something ""Mummy, I have to get ready for the day."  

"You're staying home today."  

"But I like to get ready, come on."   

"Right, sweetheart."  

Marlowe's room, which once was white and in tones of pink, is now totally colorful, the walls are filled with drawings, teddy bears and art materials, she also has a large closet, where besides clothes and shoes a great collection of hair bows is kept. Years ago, when she found out that they were going to have a little girl, Rebecca bought the first bow as if she predicted that their daughter would be in love with the accessory, and almost cried with emotion when she carried her out of the maternity ward wearing it. Then the first tufts of hair appeared, surprising little blonde curls in a reddish hue, and came a hundred bows, hair clips, headbands and ribbons. Now strawberry blonde hair reaches the middle of her back, bangs cut perfectly straight and ends wavy, the woman absolutely loves brushing and styling for events. Like weeks ago at an AFC Richmond home match, she did high pigtails, decorated with blue and red hair ribbons, one color on each side.  

"Thank you, Mummy!" Marlowe appreciates looking at herself in the mirror, loving the multi-colored bow at the end of a braid, so she turns to the accessory box looking for something "For you to look like me." and puts a rainbow clip in her mom's hair, followed by another, unicorn this time "We look beautiful." 

"Yes, we are, sweetheart." the Welton's stare at each other for a second before the woman kisses her daughter's head.  

Rebecca gets up from the floor and grabs her phone from the dresser, without any surprise it's already full of text messages, a missed call, a reminder about the afternoon meeting and a text from her wife.  

"Hi, love! Some unexpected things happened at the meeting, Keeley volunteered to babysit Lowie in the afternoon. Please check her purse when she arrives, last time they almost overdosed on Fini, apparently our daughter inherited your taste for sweet."  

She smiles reading the text, of course the girl has inherited it, she is a small version of her, but almost redhead, bright green eyes, defined lips and nose, not just physically, they share many personality traits and tastes. Marlowe runs across the room and throws herself against her, gripping the long legs tightly and the legs curl together like a baby monkey.  

"Was nice having you with me, Mummy." the blonde faces her in confusion and takes her in lap, noticing the sad expression on the childish face "It's okay to go away."  

"Sweetheart, I don't...'"  

"You're on your phone, whenever you're on your phone you have work to do." Rebecca wastes no time in hugging her, pressing the little body against herself and strokes back, calming the imminent cry "It's okay."  

"Lowie, that was Mama, she's going to be late and..." the child faces her expectantly "We, you and I, are staying together. What do you think about watching that cartoon you like?"  

"Bluey?! And can we have Fini? And there's chocolate pudding in the fridge." Marlowe quickly gets excited, jumping for joy at the idea of them spending more time together.  

"Well, we need to talk about sugar, young lady." Rebecca laughs leaving her on the floor again, giving a gentle pat on the head "But later, now you can grab some treats from the drawer." and winks at her little partner in crime.  

Marlowe nods positively and runs down the hallways disappearing from the woman's field of vision, soon she hears the sound of the drawer. In one phone call and a few text messages all the rest of the day's appointments are cleared, giving her a totally free schedule. She also tells Keeley that she doesn't need to come. The phone is put on silent mode and kept in the pocket of her pants. Nothing will get in the way.  

"Lowie, what do you think about painting Mummy's nails? Any color you want. And I want a tattoo too."  

It's almost 6pm when the sound of keys in the door wakes Rebecca from a nap, she settles down on the couch carefully, not wanting to wake her daughter lying on her lap. The two of them simply fell asleep after about 15 episodes, all chocolate pudding and a few packs of Fini. She tries to pull herself up and out of Marlowe's embrace, failing miserably at that mission as the girl cuddles even tighter into her, snoring lightly against her chest. In less than a minute Y/N appears in the living room, carrying a dozen different bags and a sweet smile on lips as she finds the cute scene. 

"Hi, my love!" she whispers excitedly and crouches down to leave a soft kiss on her wife's lips, then on the child's forehead "I thought you had a super important meeting today."  

"It's been rescheduled, as has the rest of my schedule." Rebecca smiles and pulls the youngest to herself, making her sit on the corner of the couch with them, bags on the floor "And what were you doing?"  

"I had parents meeting for a sporting event at school, in the afternoon, well, I went shopping." she laughs shyly as confesses her activities "Lowie had a growth spurt, so I had to buy new clothes and uniform, she barely fits into pajamas."  

"What did you expect having the baby of a 5 foot 11 woman?! When I was her age the same thing happened. And I noticed there was something different." and indeed she did, a little of her tummy showing when putting on a blouse and the pants bars reached the ankle, plus now Marlowe is at her waist height "I see you went to the hairdresser and manicure too."  

"Damn, I thought you wouldn't notice."  

"You deserve that time to yourself, you are living like a full-time solo mom. I'm sorry I'm not here for you." the blonde says with guilt in her voice and strokes her wife's hair, pulling her into a gentle kiss "And you look fucking gorgeous and sexy." she whispers low as possible, especially after learning that her daughter's sleep doesn't stop her from having good hearing.  

"That's okay, my love. But I confess I can't wait for Premier League to finish soon. Looks like you had some time to yourself too, with Lowie. Pretty nails, Welton." really pretty, painted in various colors, some with fun stickers. Strong arms are covered with temporary tattoos of various cartoons, the girl has convinced her to do more and more with puppy dog eyes. Her usually perfect hair is a mess with those same clips and a few more. Not even her face escaped, colored eyeshadow and blurry pink lipstick befitting childish abilities "We have a girly girl in our home."  

"A persuasive girly, she's so talkative. And a mini me." Rebecca says proudly and the girl seems to sense that they are talking about her, at the same time wakes up "Hello, sleepyhead."  

"Mummy.... Mama!" she practically screams and throws herself into Y/N's arms, not realizing she kneed the taller one, who just hisses in pain and holds up a curse "Oh! Fuck me! Your hair looks beautiful, you're cocky, just like me." Marlowe says excitedly into the hug, squeezing her as hard as she can.  

"What?" she looks at her wife with wide eyes, not believing what had just heard.  

"Oops..."  

"We'll talk about it later, Mrs. Welton."  

And Rebecca knows she's fucked. 

taglist: @dvrkhcld

Join my taglist here ^^ now there is addition of Rebecca

[compassionatereminders]

https://www.tumblr.com/theygender/750672176328425472

First, that was an important and valuable lesson for me to know. I was hit with the realization that I've been doing it more often than not.

My ex (fake) bestie. I will never, ever absolve myself of how shitty of a friend I was to her, even if it wasn't totally purposeful or malicious but rather idiotic.

However, instead of her saying anything that can be interpreted as a CLEAR ENOUGH signal of "look. this is too much. Step down.", she decided to slander me behind my back (while treating me like the best person ever to my face), until she got sick of me enough to stab me in the back under the guise of a rightful accusation that she's been bottling up because of her problems with saying no.

I cared about her so much, and now I despise her. She preached this exact same lesson in the post when I thought we were friends. In that context, it's that fucked up.

In other words, she WAS that 1/10 I was too unfortunate to meet. That's why I've had trust issues, and yes, me having trouble not panicking when I get told that I'm hurting someone is a symptom of that. In addition to me struggling with ADHD emotional dysfunction and RSD all my life.

I guess there is nuance; sometimes people have actual reasons for having a hard time with that. It's certainly no excuse for not trying, but that I'd like my struggles to be recognized and accounted for and respected accordingly, not invalidated in an ableist way, even as/because I'm making the effort.

Well, I have quite a rap sheet of things I've done to others I'm not proud of, and from my experience, remorse is *devastating* to feel. Especially when I did the wrong thing out of ignorance and I wasn't complete aware at first, and it all of a sudden hits me that yes, I did hurt that person that badly. (Which is natural to feel, and 1000% my responsibility, not the victim's. I'm mad at myself for what I did.)

As I'm trying to be better, I have no desire whatsoever for absolution, but rather to make it right, and if I can't, just SOMEHOW find a way to live with it that doesn't crush me. I desire less pity for being guilty (because that's a sentiment that comes from absolving myself when I'm not and shouldn't be so that makes me mad) and more... faith that I can be better?

Remorse is not something to reject, it's a necessary feeling to process so you come out of the experience a better person, even if you aren't forgiven.

But then again, sometimes in the midst of it I realize I lost so much trust in myself, that I want to regain but I'm not there yet. Which is why trying feels Sisyphean, but it's the right thing to do, and a lot better than more blood on my hands because I wasn't vigilant enough.

But that was a very illuminating point, because as someone who has been hurt unintentionally before, I know very well that intent and impact don't always equal each other. I'll handle myself with more composure in such situations next time.

And it's important to note that toxic people often can't be reasoned with. So when someone says "hey here's a general tip for improving communication", there will be certain people and certain relationships where that strategy won't be applicable because it simply isn't a healthy relationship built on respect and care. So whether she hurt you or you hurt her or both of you harmed each other, it's okay to look at a post like that one you linked and know that it doesn't always work out that way

[gamerbearmira]

Thank you for your well wishes! I am taking a much needed break from work and my nephew is literally the best thing to happen in the entire world to me. I'll be trying to post more updates on this Au because I enjoy writing it a lot and might even explore some other Au's I've been thinking about I'm also going to be exploring more than one pov per part let me know what you think. Anyway on to the show BABY MIRA PART 5

The candle was at a loss on what it should do. This whole situation has gone so far away from it they have no idea how they got here. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It never was. Mirabel was supposed to figure out that she was the new matriarch of the familia when they added on to the house, when they built her a room, the house was going to expand, adding on to the foundation, making room for the coming generation. But that never happened. No instead she was pushed into the nursery and told to stay out of the way.

Casita was right they should have done something, but they had faith in the family, they didn't think things would get this far.... They were wrong and they had known they were wrong for a while now but didn't want to admit it.... Didn't want to admit they didn't know the familia as well as they thought they did.... But they should have and now Casita doesn't trust their judgement, refusing to listen to a thing they say and not going along with them anymore She is so angry with them about Mirabel and how they handled the situation. As for Mirabel herself.... Mirabel is in pain.....and it's all their fault. They didn't mean to hurt her but they did and they don't know what to do to make up for the pain they unintentionally caused besides going along with Casita, something they should have done a long time ago.

They had just apologized to Mirabel wanting to show her that the hurt wasn't on purpose that they cared about her, SAW her and the part she played in the famila, she had passed out as soon as they did, not that they blamed her. The poor girl was probably exhausted with the nights events and everything learned.

"you're sorry?" The voice is a whisper and angry and panicked in tone. It also isn't who they expected to address them. They had thought their current familia head would be asking that question but no, it's their healer who holds her sleeping youngest in the cradle of her arms rocking her slightly to keep her asleep. "You're sorry for what? What's happening? why did Casita do this?!" Oh.... in their focus on Mirabel they hadn't realized that their current head of familia hasn't translated what Casita said so them apologizing probably is very confusing and alarming to their healer. They look over to their current matriarch and she looks.... Lost.... eyes going from them to Mirabel to the door where Casita's tiles dance happily in the doorway, she's very proud of herself at the moment, finally being able to help her favorite family member the way she's been wanting to for a very long time has put her in a great mood. The candle doesn't know what's going on in the matriarch's head but they know they've caused enough damage for one night and decide to keep quiet for the rest of the night not wanting to cause anymore unintentional hurt or panic.

*"*"*"*"*""'"""*

Alma feels like she's on another plane of existence, or at the very least a part of her is, because NOTHING is making sense. Mirabel is a baby, turned into one by Casita as some sort of redo because apparently she has a gift but wasn't truly given it. Alma can't understand why? Why give her a gift but not truly give it to her? And why turn her into a baby? If it was just about redoing her ceremony why not just recreate a door and make it obvious who it was for? Why turn her back to a baby.... Before she can get lost in her train of thought her eldest child hushed but panicked voice breaks through "Mama please what did Casita say?! Why did the candle apologize? what's happening?!" Alma who had been looking at Mirabel sleeping little form at that moment looks up at her daughter who's still holding her Augustine not that far away standing just a little behind her. Seeing the obvious distress and building panic in her eldest child's eyes is enough for her to shake off the daze her head was just thrown in. She quickly shakes her head before addressing her daughter "I'm sorry Mija I... I was lost in thought for a moment I didn't mean to startle you..I .. apparently Mirabel has had a gift this entire time... Why she didn't get a room and why her door disappeared wasn't explained, apparently it was all the candles idea and they refused to explain themselves to Casita and clearly aren't explaining themselves now so that is still a mystery. But Casita did explain why she turned Mirabel into a baby. She said..... She said that she's making up for the mistakes that the candle made that this is a type of redo...." She waits for her daughter's response knowing that it's probably not going to be a good one. she had basically just told her that their family home is demanding they redo her youngest child's childhood because of the mistakes of a candle. If she was in her daughter and son-in-laws position she would be fuming.

She doesn't wait long for the reaction julieta and Augustine blink at her once then twice before a hushed choked "what?!" Comes from both of them julieta's shoulders starting to shake slightly as tears flood her eyes and stream down her cheeks and her arms which are still cradling Mirabel tighten their hold. Augustine has a lost look in his eyes as he comes closer from behind julieta putting one hand on her shoulder and the other around her back and takes hold of one of the arms cradling Mirabel trying to both support and comfort his wife. They both look devastated and Alma doesn't blame them. She wants to comfort them both but she has no idea what she can say in this situation to even try to make it better before she can even attempt to Julieta turns her head to look over at the still tiles outside of the room (when they stopped dancing is anyone's guess).

*"*"*"*"*""'"""*

The feeling of anger is not a very familiar one to Julieta. Shes never had much reason to be angry through her life and had never been very quick to it, not even in youth but right now.... Right now she finally understands the phrase seeing red.... Because how dare some stupid house come in and say that her baby, her wonderful, amazing Mirabel needed a redo. Mirabel doesn't need a redo. Mirabel doesn't need anything she's perfect the way she is, yes a gift and a room all her own would solve so much but she doesn't need to redo her entire life for those! She loves Mirabel the way she is now, clumsy and so full of love, energy and passion for the people around her and what she does, how sweet and thoughtful she is. What if all that disappears? The thought is so painful tears come to her eyes and spill down her cheeks so fast she can't even think about holding them back. She feels Augustine hold on her shoulder and arm it's familiar and keeps her grounded in the moment. She turns to look from her mama to look out the door to the now still tiles. When she speaks she can hardly recognize her own voice it's so filled with anger and panic "Why? Why would you do this to her? She loves you! She doesn't need to redo her life and she never needed a gift all she needed was a bedroom of her own!" She says all of this in a hiss not wanting to wake Mirabel up again knowing just how tired she must be. There is slight movement from the tiles obviously Casita responding she turns to her Mama for a translation. Her Mama is immediately translating for her clearly not wanting to startle her again "Casita says she knows Mirabel loves her And that she loves her too, that she loves her so much that she wants to give her everything that was withheld from her by the candle and the only way she knows how to do that is by starting over....." Her mama stops having nothing else to translate

"Well it's not a necessary thing to do, undo it and just give her a room!" Julieta is whisper yelling trying to stay quiet because of the time and the sleeping baby but wanting to show her anger and displeasure at her home. the tiles move again and again her mama translate "Casita says she's sorry she's upset you and Augustine. She says that this is for the best for Mirabel and the familia in the long run and...." Her mama pauses staring at Casita in horror for a second before in a shaking voice finishes translating for Casita ".... And even if she wanted to she can't undo what's been done..." It's a good thing Augustine was holding onto her because she feels her legs give out and if it wasn't for him she would have hit the floor hard and fast with Mirabel in her arms.

This can't be undone.... Her mirabel.... Her sweet 15 year old baby girl... She's gone and she's not coming back.... She looks down at the sweet little face cradled in her arms and just breaks down into silent sobs..... Because shes GONE but she's RIGHT here... and Julieta has no idea what to do... She can hear Augustine talking to her but her head is in a fog..... then she feels a familiar hand on her face it can't be Augustine's he's currently the only thing keeping her up at the moment she looks up from the somehow still sleeping baby version of her youngest to look up to see who is touching her. It's her Mama, she is saying something but Julieta can't make it out over the ringing in her ears. She forces herself to take a breath and focus on her mama's face trying to make sense of what's being said to her.

"it's okay Mija take a deep breath in." She does as her mama tells her, feeling overwhelmed and slightly terrified "Good Mi babé now take a slow breath out for me, that's it!" She does, feeling her heart, which had been beating so fast she honestly thought she was having a heart attack, slow down and everything which had been blurry before was completely in focus now her mama drops her hands from her face seeing her calming down.

"what are we going to do mama?!" She hears herself ask, voice shaken and in a whisper. She never looks away from her needing to see her mami's face, needing to know everything is going to be alright, her mama sighs in a way she's never heard before, it's tired and almost sounds defeated "I don't know Mija, I really don't know...." She whispers looking down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at her a resolve in her eyes, "But there is nothing we can do now but try and get some rest before we have to tell the others in the morning." Before she can really argue Julieta feels herself being guided up from her sitting position to standing Augustine's voice whispering "come on mi vida let's get you and Mira to bed we can deal with all of this in the morning." She allows herself to be led back to her room by her husband he sits her down on the bed she can hear him making noises around her but her focus is on the little baby asleep in her arms she feels a hand on her shoulder and she looks up startled not having heard Augustine come up "Here Mi Vida, I made a little pillow fort in the middle of the bed for our little Miraboo to sleep nice and safe between us." She lets him take her watching him carefully suddenly very uneasiness about not having Mirabel in her arms, what if something happens?

She watches Augustine carefully lay their daughter down in the little pillow fort and just as careful as he laid her down he slides himself to one side of the pillow fort facing Mirabel. She slides herself over to the other side of it just as carefully laying on her side so she's also facing Mirabel. There's nothing more she can do tonight but watch as Mirabel, and then eventually Augustine, sleeps. She wants to join them really she does, she's never been more exhausted in her life. But what if something happens to Mirabel again? What if she disappears completely?

Yes there's nothing more they can do now but wait till morning, But that doesn't mean Julieta shouldn't watch her baby until then.

Well I’m glad your taking a breath and I hope you have fun with your nephew <333 And I can’t wait for more baby Mirabel (BUT TAKE BREAKS⁉️⁉️⁉️)

Ok like. Everyone’s perspective is so cool, I like that <333 but like rs. Everyone being confused, distressed and shoot, even mad is completely reasonable. Like I’d be confused asf too 😭 though I do see where Casita is coming from. I mean she can’t warn them about it, because the others definitely would’ve done something stop it (if they even could??? I mean Mirabel’s not turning back to normal by Casita or the Candle, so clearly that’s that.). But like Agustín making the best with what’s he’s got, a round of applause for him bro 🫧🫧 like he’s pretty much been the most level headed the whole time, can we get this man a cupcake or SOMETHING, he deserves it 💀

Ayo if you have a name for this. You should totes give it to me because I’d love to put these in their own tag <333

[quotergirl19]

Exasperated by Colin’s constant, albeit occasionally helpful attempts to get back on her good side, Penelope has a frank conversation with him finally confessing her feelings to him without shame or fear that she thought she’d been in love with him secretly for years. That she was not sure he would ever return her affections but she was willing to wait and see because she cared about him so much. She explained how she was never so happy than when he wrote to her, protected her, held her hands and told her he’d always look after her as they danced because she was special to him. All of it gave her cause to believe that he might actually care for her, but then she heard him disparaging the mere thought of courting her. How she now knew he’d never so much as consider her for a wife. Finally she had her answer and she realized that he just pitied her. How he would never see her for all she was no matter how good she was to him or how devotedly she loved him. She told him that she cried for days for being such a fool. That she knew she could no longer allow him to distract her from finding a husband. She admits she burned every letter he sent her and knows nothing he has written to her on his most recent travels. And finally, Penelope tells Colin she is determined to avoid him this season and asks that he please do the gentlemanly thing and not distract her from her purpose, finding a husband, and she left.

Colin was speechless at hearing Penelope’s declaration of love and her wish to end their friendship, he remained stunned silent even after she left him. She was right. He had done everything that she said he had. He had just been so comfortable with his friend Pen. He had never intended to make a fool of her or hurt her. He would never hurt Pen. She was his best friend, and he had somehow blindly and unintentionally broken her heart. He’d been so worried about her when she didn’t reply to any of his letters that he turned around and came back to London thinking if she was the only woman he could miss more than he would miss seeing the world, he must love her. He’d come back to be with her and she’d given up on him. He’d pushed away the one woman who would never forsake him. And he had to win her back.

Penelope felt as though a great weight was lifted and she was proud of herself for getting through her speech without shedding any tears. She’d practiced saying that to Colin for weeks. Oh she had done her crying in the last few months while he was traveling and she didn’t feel any less heartbroken yet. Deep down Penelope still loved Colin and wanted him more than any other man but she was resolved to not let her foolish broken heart stop her. She was going to focus on her future. She was a woman, she had no choice but to take charge of her life. So it was with her future happiness in mind that Penelope told the coachman to take her to Madame Delacroix’s boutique.

Determined to change her circumstances, Penelope went straight to her friend Genevieve, to enlist her help in making her over from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. No longer wishing to be seen an an insipid wallflower, Penelope was ready to bloom and she was certain that Madame Delacroix was just the right person to help.

Genevieve: Penelope what are you doing here, are you alright? Is it the Queen? Come inside.

Penelope: I need your help. I have spent years secretly in love with someone who never saw me as anything but a friend and now I am entering my third season with no prospects. I cannot afford for any more men to overlook me. I must catch the eye of a good man who is ready for marriage this season.

Genevieve: Good for you Penelope! I think this is a wonderful plan.

Penelope: I have allowed my mama to choose my wardrobe for far too long. The yellow dresses she has insisted I wear make me look pitiable and plain because they don’t suit me. Help me please, transform me with your talents. Dress me to flatter my figure. You understand how the perfect dress and hair can make people see you differently and I wish to be seen for the strong confident woman that I am, as someone worthy of respect and love… not as someone destined for spinsterhood, and easy to overlook.

Genevieve: I shall help you make the men of the ton drop at your feet… we shall unleash the new Penelope Featherington this season.

Penelope: I’m glad you are up to the challenge, my friend. I have complete faith that you will turn me from an invisible wallflower into a desirable and irresistible new bride.

Genevieve: Come I have some fabulous new silk fabrics in blue, lavender and a lovely green that just arrived, they will look ravishing with your red hair. You shall have first pick. Let’s get started.

[wishing-stones]

how did you come with the plot for r&r? its so nicely written and i constantly struggle with coming up with plots for multichapter fics despite desperately wanting to write one, so im wondering what your process was?

This one got long

Originally, the plot came about from a one-word prompt done for my oneshot collection. The story wound up with more background to it than I intended, and I decided to try and fill it out a little more. I'm kind of old-fashioned, so I used a plot diagram and slapped the important bits in there before thinking about what all else I'd like to put in a story like this.

Picking a villain was pretty easy; who is stupid and/or ballsy enough to pick a serious fight with Nightmare? XGaster, who could be made a main antagonist easily. He also has the added bonus of having a personal investment in fighting Nightmare (Cross) That gave me my conflict, and filling out what needed to happen between that and the resolution got handled too.

I knew I wanted this to be a reverse harem sort of dealio, so everyone needed to have their own arc with the reader. Everyone needed to have character development. To do that with Nightmare meant having to include his brother, and it gave me an avenue to do their resolution and also include the stars. Killer and Cross needed to come to an understanding, but after realizing that would only really come about after they go to blows, they needed a doctor.

Enter Baggs, who I have sort of stuck with the Bad Sanses for a hot minute in my own sort of personal plot space and in general thought mess. Formally including him would also just be a nice little self-indulgent thing since he's a seriously bastardly brainrot. It also gave me an excuse to work with him more, and, unintentionally though it was, introduce more people to him and his AU.

With the cast figured out, I could start placing little scenes I wanted to happen in the appropriate places on the timeline. As I wrote it, some things were off-the-cuff, some things popped up early, some things got nixed, and a whole character who I hadn't originally intended to include got included anyway due to source material being released between plotting and writing (XChara.)

The actual ending got pulled out of my ass because I only had a couple bulletpoints for the post-fight resolutions. There's a couple whump lines there I'm especially proud of.

That being said, there's a couple continuity errors that need fixing and places where things didn't quite go according to plan, so always be prepared to compromise and fix in post. I also never had a beta reader and basically went "FUCK IT WE BALL" with every update. (I did re-read them and fine-tune them after the initial write before posting them, but that's it.)

In short, the process was: 1. Come up with the initial idea 2. Refine the idea (Starting point, rising action, conflict, resolution) 3. Place the idea on a plot diagram 4. Figure out scenes you want and place them accordingly 5. Figure out how characters are (or are not) going to change and place the catalysts for the actions and where/when their arcs will conclude/when they have gone through their development 6. Pad it out-- make scenes connect and plot points make sense 7. Start writing. Keep writing. Pace yourself. You'll finish it eventually and with a roadmap, you'll always know where you're going. Feel free to embellish on the details and don't be afraid to move things up or back in the progression of the plot if it makes more sense while writing it.

And if there's anything I've learned from this, it's that:

a. Your audience is a lot nicer than you think they are. You are absolutely your own worst critic. b. Don't be afraid of mistakes, just go with the flow. You can edit things in post when you re-read it, even if that's after you posted it.

I really hope this helps!

[omegaremix]

MRKE, 2021.

It’s April. To me, I feel that nothing’s changed. By now I know that all of my favorite businesses to patronize stayed open. Not one record store on the island shuttered. So far, I was proud of myself to visit Williamsburg’s Rough Trade before their relocation this summer. It was the best $417.00 I ever spent. A pinball parlor opened up at my former local mall to my total surprise. It’s something that Long Island never had before. For eight hours and $25.00 I had more than my money’s worth. It’s safe to say that most of the money is coming back again, even if the third stimulus has no face or feelings of how people either benefit or still suffering. Businesses re-opened after New York State’s mandated closures, like my local ticket arcade where I benefit from buy-twenty-get-twenty specials and half-off games on Wednesdays so I’m relieved. It’s been years since I went and I’m long overdue for a night out of a real life 2021 version of The Price Is Right.

My friend M-Ro, brother of archivist and WUSB’s J-Ro, had been out of a job since the cinema-house closed down. He’s done nothing but stay home with his four kids watching infinite amounts of Disney, long-forgotten sitcoms, and other cringy obscurities. Not long ago, he started working again with a friend who later changed career paths and decided to open Pickle Island, a pickle house in Oyster Bay. He offered M-Ro to help run the place and Pickle Island is now a two-man operation.

I hate pickles. I think they’re disgusting, unappetizing, and revolting, They’re an unattractive food to me. I’d never have a reason to buy them ever, ergo be near a pickle house. But when your friend sells part of their CD and video collections there, then you do have a reason to go. I always support my friends with what they do. Snakeskin belts, local shows, photography books, or new ventures. You sell it, I buy it. I haven’t seen M-Ro since one of his final live performances of This’ll Kill Ya’ for his bro-’s bornday at a crowded bar in Hauppauge, so it’s about time I do.

I traveled west on the Long Island Expressway / Rt. 495 and drove past Exit 46, Sunnyside Blvd. / Plainview, where a once-astonishing world of fresh faces and memories that opened up my junior year was an era long dead. Then up north on Rt. 106 / 107. The last time I traveled down that path was when I worked at the Jewish center post-senior year. I got the girl, a Dutch caramel blonde, and also got the job through her father; a mean, threatening, over-protective scumbag who had me on his shit-list for two summer months because I was dating his daughter. I drive up Rt. 106 / Oyster Bay Rd.’s silent, wide-open, grassy roads riding past the stables and million-dollar houses on hills. View the scenic picturesque neighborhoods and one would think how Nassau County sits at the top ten highest-taxed neighborhoods in the entire U.S. Go up North Shore Rd. and see an amazing grandiose view of the harbor’s massive body of water as you coast over the Bayville Bridge and slide into the parking lot across from Pickle Island. I see M-Ro through the storefront, sitting on the couch minding his own as I walk in. He sees me walking towards and waves hello as I come in.

I unintentionally give him a friendly good-to-see-ya’-again hug. Oops. I realized you’re not supposed to do that in a pandemic world. But it’s two weeks after the fact and we’re still alive. After a few lines of conversation, I said to him that it’d be quick and he knows.

I’m not here for the pickles. I’m here to see what CDs he’s selling. It’s already cramped quarters. A Ms. Pac-Man cocktail cabinet sits behind the front window. There’s a few racks of issues of Captain America, Green Lantern, and Wolverine. Another rack of VHS tapes and a shelf of DVDs and Blu-rays. Then the CDs. They’re from his collection. Some duplicates and others he didn’t care about parting, he says. Eight rows or sixteen shelves of discs in total which would take me no more than ten to fifteen minutes to scan…and some neck pain from having to see it all sideways because that’s how he placed them, you  Tetris artist. I’m already positioned in blocking the owner from going behind the front counter. And an all-too-nice suburbanite family of three just walked in; a father and his two kid who are all so fine and dandy to be there. As if they never experienced a bad day or tragedy in their white-winged innocent lives. Nice to know that Dad Of The Year never looked in my direction and wondered why a stranger is twisting over by the shelves.

Seeing his partial stash, M-Ro was never one to shy away from pop. Jewel, Head Automatica, Pretty Girls Make Graves, some pop-punk, first and third-wave ska, Warped Tour bands…no judgment here. Because he’s a solo artist who goes by The Matt Roren Karaoke Experience doing covers and music videos of various popular chart-topping hits. Before that, he was also part of the legendary local pop-punk / ska band The Microwave Orphans and after that the garage-punk outfit The Repercussions which I ended up getting two CDs of. Don’t Fear…and Modern Sounds were the two most expensive discs I bought at $7.00 and $10.00 respectively, still sealed. Come on. You have to support your friends.

As with any receipt, there’s plenty of firsts. This one, however, had the majority of them. Veruca Salt, Faith No More, and The Posies were bands that my alternative circles of friends from both Brentwood and Plainview were into. A low price point allows me to have them now for the first time. Stabbing Westward, as it’s industrial rock, is in my hands. The Presidents Of The United States Of America? Yes. They wrote that song about peaches so that’s valid. Why not get The Stooges first album with a second disc of live material? And being I have their second album, why not get the first from The Specials? It’s one of the very select few ska bands I’ll allow in my collection. None of that too-important elitist third-wave carnival music. I don’t think I have Phil Collins’ But Seriously, and he was someone I listened to feverishly during my Nintendo youth. And Richard Marx? None of you know who he is and if you did you wouldn’t dare mention his name. But I will. My ma’ loved him and once had the cassette. So both middle digits flying high to you all.

As M-Ro counted up the tab, I look to my right and there it was: a Sony Watchman. It’s the third one in two months I seen. My interest in them started when during my Saturday shift, one of my favorite customers, a young 20-ish redhead with glasses asked me for a power bank. On my way of showing them to her, she mentioned about buying some more accessories for her Watchman. I’m not much of a movie person so that kind of flew over me until she showed me an actual Sony Watchman handheld TV. She took it out of the box and turned it on for me. I almost dropped dead in front of her. I read about these things all the time but never saw one in the wild. Now here it was. She recently bought one at Savers for only $4.00 and bought an analog-to-digital converter from us to try and stream it to her flat-screen TV. She even went a step further and told me the manufacture date on it: 1985. The fact that it was her holding obsolete antiquated technology in her hands and was still in working condition made my entire month for me. I told this story to my friends at the radio station and our resident fantasy aficionado Captain Phil offered to send me one from his eBay store, which I’m now a proud owner. Pickle Island had a larger unit sitting on its counter showing a random movie and I’m wondering if some talking head, celebrity, influencer, or magic cartoon kangaroo on Instagram recently touted them for everyone to grab.

This one-and-done expedition was just as quick as when I visited Rosie’s Vintage three years ago, but not the least expensive. $62.00 later, I was the proud owner of a piece of M-Ro’s life. Not a gift, but a purchase. Being Pickle Island is not a legitimate music store by any means, it doesn’t count towards my record-store victory tour. I thanked M-Ro profusely for my patronage and told him to stay in touch which he would. It’s now time to reverse the drive home under partly cloudy blue skies with a playlist of past Springtime discoveries as the evening’s soundtrack. I’ll get to experience the harbor one more time and get an idea of where to take a scenic shoot in the near future. I’m not taking the L.I.E. this time as it’s cramped with traffic but this time the Northern State to Rt. 25, Rt. 345, and Rt. 454 all the way through. I’ll log on to social media for all of my friends and allies at WUSB to hear about because I never shut up about what I bought. I need the assurance and affirmation from everyone which I bought with my money today and, so far so good, it’s favorable. Then I see this posted under my purchase:

“You’re lucky I left some stuff for you.” said his brother J-Ro.

You don’t say! I had no idea some of his collection was mixed in for sale with his brother’s. So which ones, exactly? Unlike his offering, the stuff I left for him from my collection was totally free and not out of pocket. Take that to the bank and cash it in.

Repercussions, The: Don’t Fear…

Stabbing Westward: Wither Blister Burn + Peel

Stooges, The: self-titled

Veruca Salt: American Thighs

Phil Collins: But Seriously

Faith No More: Songs To Make Love To

Lacuna Coil: Karmacode

Richard Marx: Repeat Offender

Posies, The: Frosting On The Beater

Specials, The: self-titled

Presidents Of The United States Of America, The: self-titled

Raveonettes, The: Whip It On

Faith No More: Angel Dust

Repercussions, The: Modern Sounds

[pastelbatfandoms]

DR Stranger Things Memories

I had another dr memory with Billy Hargrove. We were at Hawkins High School. It was after school. Billy was waiting for me as I got into the car. He looked a bit annoyed but that was probably because I had been unintentionally ignoring him.

"So you going to ignore me all day?" He asked,his head leaned back,sunglasses on.

"No Billy,I didn't mean to ignore you. It's just..." I looked away then,looking out the window.

Billy followed my gaze, taking his sunglasses off slowly,as he noticed a group of girls laughing in a corner outside. His eyes darkened.

"Are those the bitches that have been giving you a hard time about me?" He asked, his voice low.

"Yeah...But Billy maybe-" My protest fell on deaf ears as Billy was already out the car and walking purposefully up to them. "Shit.." I cursed under my breath, then got out of the car,walking up to where Billy was now glaring at the girls as he towered over them.

Intimidating as all hell and they could feel how angry he was. When I reached him, putting a hand on his arm,he seemed to relax a bit but said in a calm tone that was scarier than if he was yelling, "If you hurt her again, I'll give you a reason to be scared of me."

Then he wrapped an arm around me as we turned and walked away. Murmuring so they couldn't hear, "El do your thing." Just then the soda one of them was holding burst showering them. As they stood their in shock.

I just smirked proud, as he led us back to the car.

Our besties, Eddie and Chrissy were watching all this play out in surprise. "C'mon, Chrissy let's go." Chrissy nodded trying not to laugh as Eddie took her hand.

Billy leaned out the car, "Hey Lovebirds! Get in!" He shouted at the metal head and cheerleader couple. Opposites did attract as Billy and I well knew,they were us without all the drama.

Eddie shook his head as they climbed into the back. "Man I wish I was that brave."

"You are so brave Eddie." Chrissy reassured him with a smile.

"Thanks babe." Eddie grinned back, wrapping an arm around her.

"Hey no making out back there." Billy warned with a raised eyebrow.

"You guys made out back here." Eddie retorted back.

"We've done more than that..." Billy replied with smirk.

Eddie and Chrissy realized what Billy meant at the same time as they made a face. "Oh ew Mandy!" Chrissy exclaimed loudly.

"Ah man there had better not be anything gross back here. Am I sitting on anything?" Eddie groaned,sitting up.

I just sat back trying to stifle a laugh as Billy grinned at me, running a hand up thigh.

I swatted it away as he laughed.

"Oh we still going to Mikes?" Eddie asked,leaning over the seat.

I looked at them in surprise. "What? Where going to The Wheelers?!" I was hoping we'd go to Wills for D&D.

I sat back a bit upset now. "Great...We're going to see Billy's OTHER girlfriend."

Billy gave me a look at that. "Mandy..." His voice holding a warning. "You know I'm not into her like that anymore." To be honest he never was, Billy had just been trying to make Mandy jealous which had worked.

I nodded as we drove off. That's where the memory ended.

[talesofseriel-official]

ENG

Sui stood outside her father's office and opened the door. Inside, she saw Seladir sitting at his desk, surrounded by scattered books and papers. In front of him lay a map of Narfyll, the city, covered with notes about its defenses. It seemed like he was fortifying it.

"Sui?" her father called out, "What are you doing awake? You should have been asleep hours ago..." he continued.

"I can't fall asleep," Sui said, and then she asked, "Could you read me a bedtime story? Please?"

Seladir looked at Sui and then shifted his gaze to an old book of legends that was worn out with time. "I'm sorry, Sui, but I have to..." he began.

"You have to organize the city's defenses. I understand, don't worry," Sui interrupted Seladir, who stood up from his desk and approached her.

"If it were up to me, I would spend the whole day with you. Unfortunately, I have many new responsibilities, and there's so little time in a day. As soon as I finish here, I promise I'll spend the entire day with you, just like when you were little," Seladir said. Sui seemed uncertain, but she replied, "Okay."

Seladir embraced Sui, tucking her hair behind her ear, and said, "Now go back to sleep, and remember that your archery training begins tomorrow morning." The two bid each other goodnight, and Sui left her father's office.

Sui lay in bed, her mind buzzing with excitement and anticipation for her upcoming archery training. As she closed her eyes, she couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. She had hoped her father would have read her a bedtime story, just like he used to when she was younger. But she understood the weight of his responsibilities as the city's defender.

The room was dimly lit, casting shadows that danced across the walls. Sui's thoughts drifted back to the conversation she had with her father in his office. She recalled his words, "As soon as I'm done here, I'll come back and spend the entire day with you, just like when you were little. I promise."

A flicker of doubt crossed Sui's mind. Promises had been broken before, unintentionally, due to the demands of Seladir's duty. But deep down, she knew her father loved her more than anything. She trusted him to keep his word, no matter the challenges he faced.

With determination in her heart, Sui banished her uncertainty and focused on the exciting prospect of her archery training. It was an opportunity to follow in her father's footsteps, to become a skilled warrior and protector of Narfyll. She hoped to make him proud.

As the night wore on, Sui found herself in the midst of a dream, a surreal landscape unfolding before her. She stood in a desolate world, shattered and fragmented, as if torn apart by some unseen force. The sky above was a swirling mix of colors, ominous and foreboding.

As she walked through this broken realm, a sense of unease settled within her. There was something hauntingly familiar about this place, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Suddenly, a flash of red caught her attention.

A crimson sword materialized in the distance, hovering ominously in the air. It emanated a dark energy that sent shivers down Sui's spine. The sword seemed to be the source of the shattered world, as if its very presence had caused the destruction surrounding her.

Fear gripped Sui's heart, yet an inexplicable curiosity pushed her forward. She couldn't tear her gaze away from the sword, its red glow beckoning her closer. With each step she took, the shattered fragments of the world crunched beneath her feet.

The closer she got, the more the haunting whispers of the fragmented world filled her ears. Whispers of despair, loss, and a forgotten past. Sui's mind raced, trying to make sense of it all, to find a connection. And then, in a sudden realization, it hit her.

The sword. It was the Blue Flame's sword.

Recognition washed over Sui like a tidal wave. The sword that once belonged to her idol, the legendary warrior and leader of the Crimson Alliance.

But how could the Blue Flame's sword, a symbol of strength and justice, be the cause of such devastation? Sui's heart sank, and a surge of sorrow washed over her. She understood that this dream was more than just a mere illusion—it was a warning, a glimpse into a future of darkness and ruin.

The red sword continued to haunt her, its presence growing more menacing. As it swung through the air, the shattered fragments of the world trembled and crumbled further, cascading into an abyss of despair.

With a heavy heart, Sui knew what she had to do. She had to find a way to reclaim the Blue Flame's sword, to restore its rightful power and purpose.

As Sui's dream faded, she imagined herself standing tall, that sword in her hand: displaying the same grace and strength and once belonged to the Blue Flame.

She thought for a moment- what should her name be? After all, a legend can be called such with only an equally legendary name.

Morning arrived, bringing with it a renewed sense of purpose. Sui jumped out of bed, ready to embark on her archery journey. She quickly dressed in her training attire and grabbed her bow and arrows. Her eagerness propelled her out the door and toward the training grounds.

The training grounds were a vast expanse of open space, surrounded by lush greenery and tall trees. Sui arrived to find her instructor, Master Selek, already waiting for her. He was a seasoned archer known for his exceptional skills and calm demeanor.

"Ah, Sui, right on time," Master Selek greeted her warmly. "Today, we will begin with the basics. We'll focus on your stance, your grip, and your aim. Remember, archery is not only about physical strength but also about mental focus and precision."

Sui nodded attentively, her eyes shining with determination. She stood tall, feet planted firmly on the ground, as Master Selek guided her through the fundamental techniques. With each arrow she released, she could feel herself improving, her aim becoming more accurate.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Sui lost herself in the rhythm of the training. Her worries and doubts faded away, replaced by a sense of purpose and belonging. She knew she was on the right path, following in her father's footsteps and forging her own destiny.

Hours passed, and Sui's training session drew to a close. Master Selek commended her progress, encouraging her to continue honing her skills. With a nod of gratitude, Sui thanked her instructor and made her way back home.

As Sui entered the house, her heart skipped a beat when she saw her father, Seladir, standing by the window. However, he seemed lost in thought, poring over maps and documents spread across the table. His brow furrowed with a mixture of determination and exhaustion.

Sui approached him tentatively, hoping to share her achievements and bask in his attention. But Seladir's eyes remained fixed on the papers in front of him, his expression unyielding.

"Dad," Sui called out, her voice tinged with both excitement and disappointment.

Seladir looked up, momentarily startled by her presence. "Oh, Sui," he said, his voice carrying a trace of weariness. "I'm sorry, my mind is preoccupied with the responsibilities the city brought upon me. I'm afraid I don't have much time right now."

Sui's heart sank, but she swallowed her disappointment, reminding herself of her father's obligations. She forced a smile and replied, "It's alright, Dad. I understand. I had an amazing training session today. Master Selek praised my progress, and I can't wait to show you what I've learned."

Seladir's eyes flickered with a mixture of pride and regret. "I'm glad to hear that, Sui. You're growing into a remarkable archer, just like I knew you would. I promise, once things settle down, we'll spend more time together."

Sui nodded, her eyes shining with a blend of understanding and hope. She knew her father's duties weighed heavily on him, but she also believed in his love and his promises. With renewed determination, she vowed to continue her training, to become the archer her father could be proud of, even if their time together was limited for now.

As Seladir returned his attention to the pressing matters before him, Sui quietly left the room. She closed the door behind her, carrying with her the knowledge that her father's love and support were unwavering, even if his focus was currently divided. And with that understanding, she set out to forge her own path, determined to become the warrior she aspired to be, and to create a future where her father's responsibilities and her dreams could intertwine harmoniously.

ITA

Sui si trovava fuori dall'ufficio di suo padre e aprì la porta. All'interno, vide Seladir seduto alla sua scrivania, circondato da libri e carte sparsi. Davanti a lui c'era una mappa di Narfyll, la città, coperta di note sulle sue difese. Sembra che la stesse fortificando.

"Sui?" chiamò suo padre, "Cosa fai sveglia? Avresti dovuto dormire già da ore..." continuò.

"Non riesco ad addormentarmi," disse Sui, e poi chiese, "Puoi leggermi una storia della buonanotte? Per favore?"

Seladir guardò Sui e poi spostò lo sguardo su un vecchio libro di leggende consumato dal tempo. "Mi dispiace, Sui, ma devo..." iniziò.

"Devi organizzare le difese della città. Capisco, non preoccuparti," interruppe Sui Seladir, che si alzò dalla sua scrivania e si avvicinò a lei.

"Se dipendesse da me, passerei l'intera giornata con te. Purtroppo, ho molte nuove responsabilità e c'è così poco tempo in un giorno. Appena finisco qui, ti prometto che passerò l'intera giornata con te, proprio come quando eri piccola," disse Seladir. Sui sembrava incerta, ma rispose: "Va bene."

Seladir abbracciò Sui, mettendole i capelli dietro l'orecchio, e disse: "Ora torna a dormire e ricorda che il tuo addestramento di tiro con l'arco inizia domani mattina." I due si salutarono e Sui lasciò l'ufficio di suo padre.

Sui si sdraiò a letto, con la mente piena di eccitazione e attesa per il suo imminente addestramento di tiro con l'arco. Mentre chiudeva gli occhi, non poté fare a meno di provare un senso di delusione. Aveva sperato che suo padre le avrebbe letto una storia della buonanotte, proprio come faceva quando era più piccola. Ma comprendeva il peso delle sue responsabilità come difensore della città.

La stanza era poco illuminata, proiettando ombre che danzavano sui muri. I pensieri di Sui tornarono alla conversazione che aveva avuto con suo padre nel suo ufficio. Ricordò le sue parole: "Appena finisco qui, tornerò e passerò l'intera giornata con te, proprio come quando eri piccola. Te lo prometto."

Un'ombra di dubbio attraversò la mente di Sui. Promesse erano state infrante in passato, involontariamente, a causa delle richieste del dovere di Seladir. Ma nel profondo, sapeva che suo padre l'amava più di ogni altra cosa. Gli fidava di mantenere la sua parola, indipendentemente dalle sfide che affrontava.

Con determinazione nel cuore, Sui scacciò la sua incertezza e si concentrò sulla prospettiva entusiasmante del suo addestramento di tiro con l'arco. Era un'opportunità per seguire le orme di suo padre, per diventare un'abile guerriera e protettrice di Narfyll. Sperava di renderlo orgoglioso.

Mentre la notte passava, Sui si ritrovò nel bel mezzo di un sogno, un paesaggio surreale che si svelava davanti a lei. Si trovava in un mondo desolato, frantumato e frammentato, come se fosse stato lacerato da una forza invisibile. Il cielo sopra di lei era un misto vorticoso di colori, inquietante e minaccioso.

Mentre camminava attraverso questo regno spezzato, un senso di disagio si insinuò dentro di lei. C'era qualcosa di inquietantemente familiare in questo luogo, ma non riusciva a mettere il dito su cosa fosse. Improvvisamente, un lampo di rosso attirò la sua attenzione.

Una spada cremisi apparve in lontananza, fluttuando minacciosamente nell'aria. Emanava un'energia oscura che le fece venire i brividi lungo la schiena. La spada sembrava essere la causa del mondo frantumato, come se la sua stessa presenza avesse causato la distruzione che la circondava.

La paura si impadronì del cuore di Sui, eppure una curiosità inesplicabile la spinse avanti. Non riusciva a staccare lo sguardo dalla spada, il suo bagliore rosso la attirava sempre più vicino. Ogni passo che faceva, i frammenti spezzati del mondo scricchiolavano sotto i suoi piedi.

Più si avvicinava, più i sussurri inquietanti del mondo frammentato le riempivano le orecchie. Sussurri di disperazione, perdita e un passato dimenticato. La mente di Sui corse cercando di dare un senso a tutto ciò, di trovare una connessione. E poi, in un'improvvisa realizzazione, capì.

La spada. Era la spada della Fiamma Blu.

Riconoscimento travolse Sui come un'onda di marea. La spada che un tempo apparteneva al suo idolo, il leggendario guerriero e leader dell'Alleanza Cremisi.

Ma come poteva la spada della Fiamma Blu, simbolo di forza e giustizia, essere la causa di una tale devastazione? Il cuore di Sui affondò e un'ondata di tristezza la travolse. Comprese che questo sogno era più di una semplice illusione: era un avvertimento, uno sguardo in un futuro di oscurità e rovina.

La spada rossa continuava a perseguitarla, la sua presenza diventava sempre più minacciosa. Mentre si muoveva nell'aria, i frammenti spezzati del mondo tremavano e crollavano ancora di più, precipitando in un abisso di disperazione.

Con il cuore pesante, Sui sapeva cosa doveva fare. Doveva trovare un modo per riappropriarsi della spada della Fiamma Blu, per ripristinarne il potere e il suo giusto scopo.

Mentre il sogno di Sui svaniva, si immaginava in piedi, quella spada in mano: mostrando la stessa grazia e forza che un tempo appartenevano alla Fiamma Blu.

Pensò per un attimo - come dovrebbe chiamarsi? Dopotutto, una leggenda può essere definita tale solo con un nome altrettanto leggendario.

La mattina arrivò, portando con sé una rinnovata sensazione di scopo. Sui saltò giù dal letto, pronta per intraprendere il suo viaggio nell'arcieria. Si vestì rapidamente con la sua divisa da allenamento e prese l'arco e le frecce. La sua impazienza la spinse fuori dalla porta e verso il campo di allenamento.

Il campo di allenamento era una vasta distesa di spazio aperto, circondata da lussureggianti alberi verdi. Sui arrivò e trovò il suo istruttore, Maestro Selek, già ad aspettarla. Era un arciere esperto conosciuto per le sue eccezionali abilità e il suo atteggiamento calmo.

"Ah, Sui, proprio in tempo," accolse calorosamente il Maestro Selek. "Oggi inizieremo dalle basi. Ci concentreremo sulla tua postura, sulla presa e sulla mira. Ricorda, l'arcieria non riguarda solo la forza fisica, ma anche la concentrazione mentale e la precisione."

Sui annuì attentamente, gli occhi brillanti di determinazione. Stava in piedi, alta e ferma, con i piedi ben piantati per terra, mentre il Maestro Selek la guidava attraverso le tecniche fondamentali. Ogni freccia che scoccava, sentiva di migliorare, la sua mira diventava sempre più precisa.

Man mano che il sole si alzava alto nel cielo, Sui si perse nel ritmo dell'allenamento. Le preoccupazioni e i dubbi svanirono, sostituiti da un senso di scopo e appartenenza. Sapeva di essere sulla strada giusta, seguendo le orme di suo padre e forgiando il proprio destino.

Passarono ore e la sessione di allenamento di Sui si avvicinò alla fine. Il Maestro Selek lodò i suoi progressi, incoraggiandola a continuare a perfezionare le sue abilità. Con un cenno di gratitudine, Sui ringraziò il suo istruttore e si diresse verso casa.

Quando Sui entrò in casa, il suo cuore balzò quando vide suo padre, Seladir, in piedi vicino alla finestra. Tuttavia, sembrava perso nei pensieri, intento a esaminare mappe e documenti sparsi sul tavolo. Il suo volto si increspò di determinazione ed esaustione.

Sui si avvicinò a lui timidamente, sperando di condividere i suoi successi e godere della sua attenzione. Ma gli occhi di Seladir rimasero fissi sui fogli davanti a lui, la sua espressione intransigente.

"Papà," chiamò Sui, la voce tingendosi di eccitazione e speranza. Seladir sollevò lo sguardo, e per un attimo i loro sguardi si incontrarono. Ma prima che Sui potesse dire una parola, Seladir fu distratto da una chiamata urgente al di fuori dell'ufficio.

Sui guardò suo padre allontanarsi, il suo cuore si contrasse di delusione. Anche se comprendeva l'importanza delle responsabilità di suo padre, un piccolo frammento di speranza si spezzò dentro di lei.

Tuttavia, la determinazione di Sui rimase intatta. Aveva un obiettivo e sapeva che avrebbe lavorato sodo per raggiungerlo. Si sarebbe allenata, avrebbe imparato e avrebbe dimostrato a suo padre di cosa era capace.

Mentre si preparava per una serata di studio e pratica, Sui si rese conto che la strada per diventare un'abile arciere e difendere la città non sarebbe stata facile. Ma sapeva che il suo coraggio, la sua perseveranza e il suo amore per Narfyll l'avrebbero portata lontano.

La sua avventura aveva appena iniziato, e Sui era pronta ad affrontare ogni sfida che le si presentasse lungo il cammino.

[tyler-blogs]

So for many years now I've kinda unintentionally and unofficially adopted many of the Gay Kids in my school. They can just tell I'm Not Totally Straight™️ without me saying it, and sign up for my clubs and elective classes. They travel in packs so when one artsy gay 9th grader, or gender fluid 16 year old, or whoever, gets dropped in my class and realizes it's a safe space, all their queer little friends follow in time.

I'm proud of this space I've tried to cultivate.

The best part is when they show me they feel safe there. Our school culture isn't very friendly to LGBTQ+ students. But this afternoon when I checked my photo gallery on my phone I discovered that today ANOTHER gay boy took selfies on it when I had left it at his table. This is like the 6th or 7th gay male, specifically, who has done this in 5 years. Always making silly, joyful faces. It's always THOSE kids that do it, for whatever reason.

I cry happy tears when they cross the stage at graduation and hope they never need to contact me again. Go be free, little birds! But I never delete those silly selfies. I see them in my "This day X years ago" feed my phone gives me periodically, and smile, and hope they're doing alright.

High schools sucked. I hope you all find a reason to take silly selfies.

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

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

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

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

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

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

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

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

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

Five Years Later, 2003

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

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

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Auntie ____!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

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

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

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

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

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

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

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

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

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

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

“Wha-“

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

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

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

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

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

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

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

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

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

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

————————

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

Jambo’s no different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolute blasphemy.

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

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

Of course your logic sucks.

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

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

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

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

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

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Woah, down girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.” he says softly.

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

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

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

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

“Eva!”

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

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

Fred winces. “Actually-”

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

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

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

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

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

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

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a you problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well what changed your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eva stutters, “What?”

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

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

“No, he won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

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

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

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

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

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fred freezes - second time that night.

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

Fuck fuck fuck.

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

But it was too late.

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

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

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

You almost swallow your tongue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

“Finally!” George yells.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____.”

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

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

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Took you long enough.”

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

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

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

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

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

“____.”

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

“____, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

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

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

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

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

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

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knock Knock

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

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

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

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

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

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

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

“I did.” you smile.

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

“Near what?” You gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“Do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fred, don-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too - oh!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well shit.”

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

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

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

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

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

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

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

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

[mizunetzu]

ok ok so my request 👉🏻👈🏻

it’s the most obvious thing but i have a full crush on bakugou, so can you please write about him x male reader, where the reader is like.. having nightmares or almost doesn’t sleep because of his quirk (idk like maybe he can hear something special or predict anything bad, doesn’t really matter) but feels safe around bakugou so he always falls asleep around him or even oN him and katsuki is like “😡(❤️)shit whatever” and the reader is kinda shy about that but totally ok with their friends being like “wow bro that’s kinda gay :> ” because he is comfortable with “oh that’s because i aM the gay✌🏻” and his classmates love him and everything and would never mock.. but one time someone from another class was really really rude bcs of that or said that katsuki hates it so the reader starts to avoid bakugou and bakugou geTS MAD about it because reader is just his and no one else’s >:0 maybe a little confession from him in the end, maybe some.. *gay coughing* angy k*ss from him

please make it angsty but with a fluffy ending please please and thank you very much in advance💙 sorry if it’s too big i can’t explain my thoughts properly thaha

Bruh I just realized how long this request is 💀💀 also look at me, writing it like decades after you requested it 😭 pls enjoy I’m actually quite proud of it (also isn’t that gif perfect hahah get it bc the prompt was abt like sleeping and bakugou’s sleeping and-yeah I’ll let u read now)

——————

Bakugou x reader - Angry Insomniacs

⚠️Warnings - mild arguing, it’s not that bad

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“Why are you always fuckin’ sleeping on me?”

It first started during the Sports Festival. The chicken race and cavalry battle really took a toll on (Y/n), and he was suffering harsh quirk drawbacks. That, being drowsiness.

Somewhere on the stands, (y/n’s) eyes grew heavier and heavier until he realized he had fallen asleep. He also didn’t realized until he woke up that no one disturbed him when he was near Bakugou. Be it fear, or just plain respect, (Y/n) seemed to get the best rest when he was with Bakugou. Not even Iida dared to wake him up when he dosed off on Bakugous shoulder.

He always made it a point to be in Bakugous vicinity when ever he could, taking naps with his head buried in his arms next to Bakugou at lunch, or having his head resting on his shoulder in the dorms.

“Oi! Don’t drift off on me!”

“Mm? Sorry, Bakugou.”

(Y/n) rubbed his eyes as he weakly pushed off the common room couch, stretching and yawning as he did so. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

“N-no, dumbass! Fuck kinda question is that, shit-for-brains?!”

“I’ll see you there later then, Bakugou.” (Y/n) gave a slight nod, Bakugou practically foaming at the mouth already, before trotting off the continue his nap in his own room.

Before heading to his room though, he walked into the kitchen to grab a post-nap time snack. Tsuyu, who was already digging in the fridge, stepped back so (Y/n) could grab whatever he wanted.

Tsu eyed (Y/n’s) slightly tousled hair. “Did you take another nap on bakugou-chan? Kero.”

(Y/n) hummed out a “yes.” Tsu hummed back in acknowledgment. Kaminari and Kirishima, unintentionally, started listening in from their place in the kitchen after hearing Bakugou being mentioned.

Tsuyu put a finger to her lip. “Ne, (Y/n)-chan, why do you always take naps on Bakugou-chan? It’s always him, kero, and you go out of your way to make sure it’s only him.”

“Why?” (Y/n) pulled off the carton of milk stubbornly hanging on to the fridge. “Because I like Bakugou. Duh. And I sleep better near people I like.

Kaminari gasped comically while Kirishima sputtered and choked on his words. Not just listening anymore, Kaminari but in. “L-like? Like, ‘like’-like?!”

Kaminari and Kirishima joined Tsuyu and (Y/n) near the fridge. (Y/n) nodded out an “mm-hm.”, whilst grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

“So you’re like...” Kirishima made wild, indecipherable, gestures with his hand. Eventually, after realizing no one was taking the hint, brought his voice down to a whisper.

“...like...gay..?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell us?!” Kaminari grasped at his blond hair. (Y/n) thought for a moment, poured himself a glass of milk, and shrugged.

“I don’t know. You never asked.”

“And you’re so comfortable just telling us now? Why, kero-kero?”

“Because I’m gay as fuuuuuck.” (Y/n) took a swig of milk like it was a shot of whiskey. “And it’s not like it was a secret or anything.”

“Though I don’t think Bakugou knows. He’s too angry about me sleepin’ on him all the time to actually care about me.”

(Y/n) polished off his glass of milk. He set the cup down gently into the sink. “Eh, it’s not like I actually care for what he thinks about me.”

“See ya, I’m gonna finish my nap.”

“Uh-bye”

“Bye-bye.”

“Bye, kero.”

———

(Y/n) yawned as his head lolled off of Bakugou’s shoulder. He hissed, dusting off his shoulder angrily.

“Go sleep somewhere else!”

“I’m just goin’ to the bathroom, Bakugou, I’ll be back. Keep your shoulder warm for me.”

(Y/n) weakly stood up from his chair, and sluggishly walked out of the cafeteria. Damn, his feet felt heavy. Maybe if he hurried to the bathroom, he’d get back in time to catch a few more minutes of sleep before Bakugou exploded on him or lunch ended.

(Y/n’s) shoulder accidentally caught on someone else’s, making him stumble back and rub his shoulder. Monoma tilted his chin up in a mocking fashion.

“Ara? Is that (L/n) (Y/n) from class 1-A I see?”

(Y/n) nodded, only half processing his words as he continued on his way to the bathroom. Monoma followed somewhat behind, spewing words and one-liners that went in one ear and out the other. That is, until,

“Honestly, you would’ve thought that angry blond kid would’ve told you by now”.

(Y/n’s) ear perked up. He halted to a stop, Monoma following suit and shoving his hands smugly in his pockets. “What’s this about Bakugou?”

“Oh? He really didn’t tell you, huh? That’s...” Monoma stifled a condescending snicker. “...surprising.”

(Y/n) stepped closer. “C’mon man, tell me what?”

Monoma sighed. “Well,”

“I heard that Mr. Blasty, matter-o-factly,” Monoma jabbed his pointer finger into (Y/n’s) chest. “Really, really hates it when you sleep on, or near him. Actually,”

“I think he just hates you in general.”

(Y/n) furrowed his brows. He’s lying. He’s lying. He likes him, doesn’t he? Bakugou likes him, or else he wouldn’t have lead him on for so long, right?

Because he wouldn’t let just anyone sleep on his shoulder...right?

“You’re lying.”

“Well, believe what you want, honestly,” Monoma made a show of crossing his arms dramatically. “But you should see the way he shit-talks and glares at you in you’re sleep. It’s not like he can push you off though, you’re ‘just so persistent you’ll never leave him the fuck alone’.”

(Y/n) shoved his hands in his pockets. Monoma raised his hands in defense. “His words, not mine.”

(Y/n) turned on his heel and began to speed walk to the bathroom. Monoma yelled out from his spot in the empty hallway.

“Oh? You don’t want to hear what he thinks about your little crush on him?”

(Y/n) froze. He was under the assumption that everyone but him knew, could he be wrong? He pressed his lips into a fine line, turning around as composedly as he could. Though, he couldn’t mask the fearful curiosity in his eyes.

Monoma grinned. It was an unpleasant, sarcastic grin, one that didn’t look peaceful or pleasing at all.

“Well, I doubt that there’s anything to to say at all, so does it really ma-“

“What...what does he say about me?” (Y/n’s) voice quivered. He knew he was falling into Monoma’s trap, that he was just trying to provoke him, that he was looking for any kind of reaction, but his curiosity got the best of him. It really did, because Monoma’s words stabbed spears into (Y/n’s) heart, word by word.

“Blasty thinks it’s fucking disgusting how you like him, like, as another dude. Like honestly, he thinks you take him for an idiot for thinking he actually didn’t know! And the fact you sleep so close to him know full well you want to get in his pants?! He thinks you’re a pervert! A lazy shit! A fag! Ahahaha!”

Monoma loud cackles were cut short when he suddenly slumped over. He sunk to the ground, revealing Kendo, holding one big hand up and the other to her waist. She most likely knocked Monoma out once she heard his condescending retorts from the cafeteria.

Kendo sighed, bending down the haul Monoma’s arm over her shoulder. Her heavy glare softened once she caught sight of (Y/n’s) buggy eyed face starting at the ground where Monoma was.

“Sorry...he didn’t say anything too harsh, right?” Kendo’s words were gentle, but they sounded practically inaudible to (Y/n’s) traumatized ears.

He wordlessly staggered past her, heading back into the cafeteria to grab his lunch and sit elsewhere. He supposed he wouldn’t bother Bakugou anymore. Since he’s so damn ‘persistent’, he figured he’d stop bothering him for the rest of the day.

He wished he wasn’t so curious about what Bakugou thought of him. Like people say, ignorance is bliss. He could’ve gone his whole high school career without knowing Bakugou hated his every being. How was he going to face him in class knowing every pointer glare, every scoff, every insult was genuine?

(Y/n) felt his throat tighten. For the first time in years, (L/n) (Y/n) was fully awake.

——

It was the first time in many months that (Y/n) didn’t sit in the seat next to Bakugou, napping in his presence. He’d done it every day no fail, that is until this week. Actually, this is the 6th consecutive day he didn’t take a nap at all.

(Y/n) sat placid in his assigned seat, eyes wide and trying to keep awake. He couldn’t sleep without thinking of Bakugou, and every time he did it was always him scoffing and turning his back on him.

Every few seconds, (Y/n) would jolt harshly in his seat, rocking back and forth like a drug addict in withdrawal. He stared at his desk with eyes that could kill someone, and he dug his hands into his forearms to keep himself somewhat awake.

He didn’t hear Kirishima calling his name until he snapped his fingers infront of his face. The snap rang like a gunshot, surprising (Y/n) from his trance so badly he jolted back like he got electrocuted. Kirishima raised an eyebrow.

“You...ok man...?”

(Y/n’s) dry eyes landed fixed onto Kirishima. He relaxed, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was taking. “M’fine...”

His voice cracked like it hadn’t been used for days. (Y/n) let his eyes drift back forward, hunching back over and huddling his body like he was trying to squeeze himself to death. When Kirishima gave him a skeptical glare and crossed his arms, (Y/n) let out a small “m’ just tired, that’s all...” and gave the most pathetic smile known to man.

“If you’re so tired,” Mina, rested her arms on the back of (Y/n’s) chair. “Why don’t you sleep on Bakugou like you do every morn-“

“NO! I-I can’t do that!” (Y/n) whipped his head back, gripping the back of his chair so hard his hand turned white. Mina and Kirishima flinched, noticeably caught off guard with his sudden outburst. “I...can’t...I can’t do that...”

(Y/n) suddenly looked very awake, contrasting the way he looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open the whole time they were in class.

(Y/n’s) breath steadied as he shut his mouth awkwardly. “M’sorry...for yelling...didn’t mean to...”

(Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes. The rush of adrenaline was already wearing off. Mina set her dainty pink hand on (Y/n’s) hunched form. “Why not...?”

“I just can’t.”

(Y/n) said nothing more. He went back to his occasional jolts awake and scrubbing his heavy eyes every 2 minutes. Kirishima sighed, shaking his head towards Bakugou, before shrugging his shoulders then forming an ‘X’ with his hands.

Bakugou clicked his tongue angrily, turning and facing back forward in his seat.

——

(Y/n) was practically seeing stars by the end of hero’s class.

It was a relatively simple assignment, 1 on 1 sparring, but it caused a lot of quirk use.

He fought both his tired eyes and Midoryia, but ultimately failing due to his harsh quirk drawbacks. Midoryia barely had to break a sweat to have (Y/n) come toppling down.

(Y/n) was ushered back into the horde of students murmuring “don’t mind” and “you did great!”, but he just slithered past and stood a few feet away from them, all the way in the back of the field.

All might was explaining something (Y/n) couldn’t quite hear. Not only because he was standing so far away, but because his hearing had been considerably wonky, not to mention the hissing, ringing sound irritating his eardrums.

“Oi.”

And even if the ringing had stopped and he could hear, his brain was too tuckered out to remember anything past five seconds ago.

“Oi!”

Gosh, speaking of his brain-

“OI! SHIT-FOR-BRAINS! YOU GONNA KEEP IGNORING ME OR YOU GONNA TELL ME WHY YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDIN’ ME?!”

Bakugou set off a small explosion. The blast wasn’t nearly as loud or powerful as in combat, but to a tired mans ears, it sounded like nukes. The ringing in (Y/n’s) ears spiked, and he cupped his ears tightly.

“B-Bakugou, nows not-“

“OH, YOU TRYNA TUNE ME OUT BY COVERIN’ YOUR EARS NOW?!” Another explosion. Bakugou’s gauntlets had been out for repairs since his last hero training, so (Y/n) could clearly see the glowing red and yellow spark from his fist. The ringing spiked again. His vision burned with sparks.

(Y/n) winced, saying nothing, and brought his hands to rub at his eyes. Bakugou eyebrow twitched.

“STOP IGNORING ME!”

Bakugou brought his hand out, his gloved hand starting to glow red with his next explosion. (Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore.

He stumbled forward, and grabbed Bakugou’s wrist. He shoved it out of the way, but his hand still ignited and set off a blast that propelled them straight to the ground.

“G-get off-a me!” Bakugou tried pushing (Y/n) off with his free hand.

(Y/n) pinned Bakugou’s glowing right hand by the wrist, using his other to hold down his other shoulder. (Y/n) would’ve never done something as ballsy and stupid as this, but he was too tired, too done, too much in pain to care.

“What are you actually trying to say!? All that stupid extra yelling and petty insults, they get you fucking nowhere! Spit it out! Or does trying to intimidate every single fucking person you meet just self-satisfaction?!”

Bakugou growled. He grabbed at (Y/n’s) shoulders, pushing off of him and pinning (Y/n) to the ground in his place.

“Then what about you, huh?!” Bakugou was angrily spitting at (Y/n’s) face. “Why the fuck did you stop getting enough sleep for your quirk?! Are you just that dumb that you stay up at night?!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from a stupid fucker like you, who can’t even take care of himself!”

(Y/n) hissed. He freed his dominant hand from Bakugou’s vice grip and pushed at Bakugou’s face, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “All you ever do is shit talk! Shut up! No one thinks it’s fucking cool!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?!”

The two wrestled on the ground, angrily grabbing and tugging at each other, and rolling around on the floor. There were shouts of “get Aizawa-no, get midnight-sensei!” and “All might, stop them!”, but the two were so caught up in their fight they couldn’t hear anything.

“Can’t you ever learn to mind your fucking Business?!”

“What the fuck does that even have to do with this!”

(Y/n) flipped Bakugou over one more time. He pushed him down by the forehead, pushing his head down into the ground while Bakugou flailed and kicked from underneath him.

“SHUT UP! WHY DO YOU EVEN FUCKIN’ CARE, BAKUGOU?! WHY DO...w-why do...wh...”

A sweet, sweet smell flooded (Y/n’s) senses. It smelt relaxing, tantalizing, it smelled like sleep. It smelled like sleep. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so bad. Maybe he could just...

(Y/n) slowly sank from his spot on top of Bakugou, flopping on top of his body and going completely slack. Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he covered his nose.

Midnight strutted from above the two, waving away a few stray wisps of her mist. Bakugou hacked out a new breath, while (Y/n) laid on top of him, peacefully asleep for the first time in days.

“Well, it seems like you two already know without me saying it.” Midnight motioned over to two small robots carrying a stretcher. “I’ll just take him to recovery girl and he should wake up in-“

Bakugou pursed his lips and wrapped his arms around (Y/n’s) sleeping figure when Midnight extended her arm towards them. He tightened his arms around (Y/n).

“I’ll do it. S-since this piece of shit attacked me first and...I’ll just do it-!”

Midnight eyed him knowingly, before waving him off and mumbling something about ‘youth’.

——

(Y/n’s) eyes fluttered open. His body felt like it was broken in every way possible. It was so sore, it hurt even thinking about moving. (Y/n) laid there, with his eyes half open, contemplating whether or not he should close them again.

Would he be able to sleep, though? Even if he’d started sleeping near Bakugou as a ‘don’t-wake-me-up’ measure, it slowly stopped being just that and more a matter of he felt safe and comfortable around him. In a way, he’s become a bit dependent on him, which is probably a bad thing, but he didn’t care.

Sleeping with Bakugou felt best. But that wasn’t an option, now was it?

(Y/n) pursed his lips, an involuntary groan rumbling from his tired vocal cords. He continued staring at the blinding nurse office lights, staring until he saw spots in his vision.

“Stop doing that-do you wanna go fuckin’ blind?”

(Y/n) flinched. He hated the way that familiar, aggravated voice still stirred butterflies into his stomach. He glanced to his side, as if to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things.

He met eyes with Bakugou.

“Bout’ time you fuckin’ woke up. Been waitin’ forever, shit-for-brains.”

(Y/n) averted his eyes back up to the blinding floodlights. Bakugou scowled. “Oi! Don’t ignore m-“

“How long were you here for?”

Bakugou went silent. It was his turn to avert his eyes, albeit more angrily.

“...I was here since you fuckin’ fainted in class, idiot. I even carried your stupid body here from the dumbass carrier bots.”

(Y/n’s) eyes softened, unlike Bakugou’s, who glared at the floor just beside the chair he was sitting in. (Y/n) checked the big black clock mounted on top of Recovery Girl’s desk.

It was 6:00 pm.

If Bakugou was telling the truth, he’d been sitting there waiting for him to wake up for 4 hours straight.

“Bakugou-its been hours since class ended-you should be at the dorms by now-! Why did you-“

“Well if you told me why you suddenly started avoiding me we wouldn’t be here right now!”

(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. Bakugou scoffed. “Well?!”

(Y/n) opened his mouth, but it clamped shut when Monoma’s words echoed in his mind. Bakugou looked at him with an expectant face.

“I can’t tell you.”

“WH-“ Bakugou sputtered angrily. “COURSE YOU CAN! THE FUCKS STOPPING YOU!”

“Nothing I-I just can’t!”

“WHY!? WHY NOT?!”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

“OK AND?! I LOVE YOU TOO!”

“THEN WHATS THE PROBLEM HERE!” (Y/n) shouted, before he cupped his mouth in realization. Bakugou’s eyes went wide aswell. “Wait I didn’t mean that-“

“YEAH! WHATS THE FUCKIN PROBLEM HERE?!” Bakugou recovered from his initial shock, already back to yelling. (Y/n) furrowed his brows with a blush.

“Wh..wait so-“

“I LIKE YOU, YOU LIKE ME, SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STOP SLEEPING ON ME?!”

“Wait but...” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t you, y’know...not like it...when I do that-?”

“DUMBASS! WHERE’D YOU GET THAT FROM?!” It seemed like Bakugou got angrier and angrier each passing second. It was hard to tell what (Y/n) found so attractive about him.

“From...from Monoma...?”

Bakugou looked angrier than ever. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow. “YOU-I CAN’T BELIEVE-! I-! FUCK IT!”

Bakugou snarled and practically shoved his face onto (Y/n’s), angrily stealing his breath away with a kiss. The kiss, surprisingly, was soft and gentle, despite Bakugou’s previous intensity. It seemed to calm Bakugou down, and cheer (Y/n) up.

The two slowly parted for air. It was quiet for a second, something that rarely happened near Bakugou.

“I thought you hated me...”

“W-why the fuck would I hate you...dumbass.” Bakugou rested his forehead on (Y/n’s) shoulder. His spiky tufts of blond hair tickling (Y/n’s) face.

“Because Monoma said so...?”

“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Bakugou snarled, climbing into the cot (Y/n) was in. He pushed (Y/n) back down into the pillow, pulling up the white blanket and laying down next to him. He guided (Y/n’s) head-a tad bit forcefully-to his chest. “...after we sleep.”

Bakugou shut his eyes, half irritated and half embarrassed, while (Y/n) chuckled tiredly. He nuzzled his head into Bakugou’s chest.

“Goodnight, Bakugou.”

——

Extra:

Monoma walked into class 1-B the next morning. He yawned, still a bit tired, when he ran straight into someone.

“Hey, copycat fucker.”

Monoma looked up. The class was empty, with no one but Bakugou standing infront of him.

Fuck.

Needless to say, Bakugou got another 3 days of house arrest.

——————

Bru this was so long ong

[jaeminscoffee]

Colours | X. Dj

Pairing» Xiaojun x f!Reader

Genre» Angst, Fluff, Smut (suggestive)

Warning(s)» Friends to lovers trope, Xiaojun kinda loses his temper but that subdues, heavy makeout session, groping, public sex, fingering, implied sex towards the ending (open imagination since the request was kinda vague), steamy, our boi dejun get's flustered by Y/n's bubbly personality. I think that's about it. Lmao not proof read, so it will contain a hell lot of mistakes.

Wc; type» 2.06k ; oneshot

Red.

All Xiaojun could see is Red. 

To have the person who dragged him all the way to some stupid reunion party against his will to abandon him in the first five minutes with the pathetic excuse of "I'll go grab us some drinks" only to never return back to his aid had Xiaojun boil with anger. 

To have you smiling and laughing, clinging and grasping at a man he's never seen before is Infuriating. 

To see you so smitten by a guy other than Xiaojun had him seeing crimson with comically visible smoke coming out of his ears, arms shaking, jaw set rigid with palms growing moist from all the clenching and unclenching. 

Xiaojun felt yellow. 

He felt insecure at how the man before you just seemed to be much to your taste. 

He felt unsure of whether or not he should risk walking up to you and talk the talk he'd wanted to let out since the day you stood up for the lad. And inevitably, and much to his pleasure, stood by him in the process till date. 

He felt that maybe, just maybe, he's not worthy of having a girl as astounding as you. And all that sliver of hope he'd held onto only seemed to be slipping away from his grasp. 

Xiaojun felt blue. 

The dreading feeling that he'd lose all that the two of you built until where your relationship stands today with a single mistake bubbles inside of him. 

Watching you from afar with a man potentially your dream guy just made him feel blue. Numb, and as though a part of him was slowly chipping away. 

The immense feeling of sheer sadness had him want to turn on his heels and back out to what he thinks "get out of your way" and to prevent further breakage of his heart. 

Until he saw red again. 

Watching you throw yourself at this stranger, arms tightly wrapped around the bastard's waist, hips joint, with his hands running through the soft curls of your tresses, "who does he think he is?" 

How entitled must this man think he is to expand the white between the two of you? You and Xiaojun were meant to be and he'd only flick your head and call you stupid if you ever said otherwise. 

Eyebrows furrowing as Xiaojun followed each of your actions. How your chin tucks and you hide your face in this 'dream bastard's' chest, arms idly resting on his torso, your hair covering your face from all the moving around. He kept watching you;

Until your gaze met. 

Time seemed to stand still, in a much cliché fashion. Seeing the expressionless look on his face seemed to have clicked the power on button somewhere in your head.

You'd unintentionally abandoned the man you promised you wouldn't. 

Almost as though Xiaojun could see the wheels turning inside your head, he sneers at you, immediately turning around to walk into a corner the moment he saw you approaching him through the crowd filled with hookers, stoners, and people too bored for their own good. 

"Jun, wait up!" 

He could hear your shrill voice call out to him the moment he rounded a turn. He didn't turn, however, mind clouded red, crimson and ebony with jealousy, envy and all mixed emotions, he felt dizzy. 

You catching up to him only seemed to worsen his dizziness, "Jun! I-i'm so sorry i forgot about you, it's just my b-" 

"Forgot about me, huh?" Xiaojun's voice comes gruff, hoarse from the inadequate usage. He doesn't bother turning around to look at you, wouldn't have done much anyways, the lighting of the area so dim, he can barely make out your silhouette. 

Besides, his vision is clouded with black, wouldn't have done much anyways. 

"No no, not forget forget about you! I just got caught up with my b-" 

"boyfriend? Y/n, are you oblivious to not know how  I feel? Am I vague? Oh I'm sorry, am I not obvious enough?" Through the darkness, you could see Xiaojun's shoulder shake, his tone strained, his head hung low, avoiding your gaze the closer you got. "Jun, what are you talking about?" 

You seemed to be feeling grey, confused. 

"Your boyfriend, Y/n." 

"Jun, boyfriend-!" "I like you damn it!" you flinch as he abruptly turns around, the red building inside him so rapidly that it inevitably ends up exploding.

"You know I like you, no, I love you. Why else would you have been waltzing around acting like a pliant, docile girlfriend?" The grey intensifies within you the faster Xiaojun talks quick strides towards you. 

Your silence and the unconscious stepping back seemed to plant a seed of yellow within him again. "You led me on. You seemingly ignored my feelings. Because you obviously know I like you, don't you?" The red appears again, mixing with the intense yellow, blending into a terrific orange as Xiaojun closes the space between the two of you with newfound confidence. 

"You like me.." you whisper, your palms pressing onto the greasy wall behind you where Xiaojun had you cornered, your eyes shaking in ecstasy. He likes you, no. He loves you.

"You need to a whole 'nother level of airhead if you think i view you merely as a friend-" Somewhere in your head, you know he's talking to you, but his voice seems to numb out in the beautiful crimson that's taking over your heart, with a slight mix of elegant yellow and purple so faint it could come off as violet. "You like me!" you look up at him. 

"-Yes, Y/n, keep up god damn! But do you care? Of course not! You go get yourself a boyfriend while i wallow in self pity-" 

"Oh god you like me!" you bounce with all the vibrant colors swirling inside you, your arms lifting up to wrap around the lads neck, who jumps at the unexpected action, looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and slight fury.

"Does it matter, Y/n? Your boyfriend's probably looking for you now-" 

"Jun, what are you talking about? I don't have a boyfriend!" you pull him down to be leveled with you, looking him intensely in the eye as you watch the familiar grey dominate his irises. 

"Th-Then, that man you were all over..? You cannot possibly tell me he's not your boyfriend" he seems to be fighting to hold onto the red fury as it slowly turns into a rosy flush. "The man I was all over..?" you question seemingly to yourself, as the wheels turn  in your head once again until the entire process comes to an abrupt halt at the realization hitting you. 

"Jun, that's my brother! My cousin!" 

The look on the lad's face is so incredulous that you break out into a cheshire grin, "you were jealous of my brother?" you giggle, as you playfully punch at his chest which deflates as he radiates bright crimson, skin heated. 

"o-okay brother. brother, alright. Though, I still don't stand a chance, do i?" Xiaojun questions, stammering with embarrassment while being overcome with a sudden sense of blue. Sure you didn't have a boyfriend, doesn't change the fact that you're way out of his league. 

You stare into his eyes, hoping that would somehow convey the answer to his question, but the more you just look at him, the more the light in his eyes seems to dim out. 

Offering him a soft smile, which he doesn't seem to notice, you catch him off guard when you lift his head up, tilting it while pressing your lips onto his ever so gently. Providing a soft peck as you sigh in ecstasy. 

You let your lips linger a little longer, silently pouring out your heart into the soft action of affection before hesitantly pulling away. 

"Does that answer your question?" your gentle voice pulls Xiaojun out of his haze. 

You kissed him. You like him. He stands a chance with you. 

That seems to snap the last bit of self restraint in him as he captures your lips once again with much fervor. Molding his lips with yours, all signs of softness thrown out of the window as his hands circle your hips, pulling you flush against him. 

The feeling of your heat encircling him makes him groan into the kiss, making a wave of shock run through your spine. The hairs on your hand standing proud as you play with the hair at the back of his neck, pulling at it. 

Biting down on your lips, Xiaojun positively earns a moan from you. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into yours, easily dominating your tongue as you slowly, subconsciously start grinding against him, making him squeeze tight at your hips. 

"I.. Love you.. Jun" you say in between the kiss as his hands travel further south, groping at your ass, pulling you in, supporting your grinds on his crotch.

"Fuck.." he sighs at the words, slithering wet kisses from your lips to the edge of your lips, moving onto the jaw before choosing to nip at the skin, "say it again, doll" he rasps onto your neck, while his hands sneakily makes its way under the flimsy material of your skirt, thumbing at your growing wetness while staring intently at you, silently asking for the green flag to proceed.

"I.. I love you. I love you, Xiaojun!" you nod at him while pouring all your adoration onto the lad, you'd waited too long for the two of you to take it slow from now on forth. 

Xiaojun moves your panties to the side, immediately finding the bundle of nerves, pressing nimbly onto your clit, basking in your little whimpers and shakes. 

He wastes no time to draw figure eights onto the sensitive bud, cooing at you while marking his territory on your neck, your jaw, the naked skin of your shoulders and collarbone, exposed by the off shoulder top you'd chosen for the evening. 

"I love you, too, princess. You've no idea how long I've waited for this moment." he moans onto your neck while sliding in a slender digit into your wet cavern. 

You grow frantic, soaking in all the emotions Xiaojun is pouring onto you with his actions and words, being pulled close to your high, embarrassing faster than you'd appreciate.

"You've no idea how many times I'm imagined taking you until all you can remember is my name, not even yours" he starts moving his digits after fitting in another one of his long fingers, the slick pouring out of your cunt pooling onto his palms as your moans come out as squeals. Your brain is hazing with a pleasant pink, blue and red. All of the emotions overwhelming you.

"You look gorgeous, doll face" he kisses softly at the side of your lips when you start clenching around his fingers, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.

"J-Jun.." you sigh, face flush with content, legs shaking, your form only being held up by his strong grip, his intense gaze making you feel so small, so vulnerable, all the tell-tale signs of your orgasm nearing you present as he accelerates his fingers, clearly catching onto the fact that you'd come undone any second. 

"You gonna come for me, pretty? Am I making you feel good?" he grunts while nibbling at the lobe of your ears, digits moving so fast inside your calls that you can hear the squelching obscene voices of your walls over the loud music playing in the background, his palm constantly rubbing against your clit. 

"Feel's so g-good, Jun.." You grip onto his forearm to keep you grounded as your orgasm washes over you. Your jaw slacks as you convulse around his fingers. Xiaojun cooing praises into your ears as he helps you ride out your orgasm, pulling you into a kiss as you push his fingers away when he slowly drives you into overstimulation. 

"Fuck, you're perfect." he stares at you with adoration while you catch your breath. Forcing yourself to step out of your daze. You smile shyly until it turns into a sly smirk as you move your hands to grab at his painfully evident dent, slowly rasping out as you move closer to him,

"Your place or mine?" 

The red never felt so satisfying to Xiaojun until now. 

[beifongsss]

life-changing field trip [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x waterbender!reader (I’m a sl*t for the opposites attract trope I’m so sorry)

Requested?: Yes! I am once again combining two requests that I thought fit together, I’m sorry if that upsets the anons who requested :( The first anon request: “ooh maybe flirty/yn with zuko while in the ember island house or while sparring (or combine the two LMAO)” The second anon request: “Hi! Can we have more simp Zuko plz 🥺 How about that scene where the gAang looks for Aang, and Toph is like “I want to go with Zuko because I have not had a life changing field trip with him yet,” but instead of Toph it’s y/n and Zuko is all blushy and flustered because he has a crush on her 🥺”

Summary: You just want to test the waters and see if Zuko likes you back, after all, Sokka has been telling you that he does indeed like you. However, every time you try to get close to the prince, he either runs away or ignores you.

not as flirty as it could’ve been but i like how it turned out :) short & sweet

.masterlist.

~

Ember Island was beautiful.

You had all arrived there a few days ago, joining Katara after she had gone off to hunt down the man who had killed her mother. When you heard that she hadn’t ended his life, you had hugged her tightly and quietly told her that you were proud of how strong she was.

Aang had come up behind you soon after and you retreated from the two to give them a bit of privacy, crossing your arms as you stood next to Zuko. The two of you observing the scene that was unfolding in front of you, a smile twitching at the edge of your lips as they embraced.

“I’m glad the two of you came back safely,” you said quietly to the prince, never looking away from Aang and Katara. Zuko didn’t reply and shifted uncomfortably. “Especially you. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t look at your pretty face every day.”

You didn’t have to look at the prince to know that he now wore a scowl on his face, displeased at your words. In reality, Zuko was trying to hold back a blush at your words and instead of replying, he simply rolled his eyes and stormed off.

He burst into his family’s beach house, cheeks still ablaze. Toph and Sokka sat there, looking up at Zuko blankly before going back to their conversation. Slightly disappointed in their lack of response, he threw himself onto the nearby couch, releasing a loud groan. 

Toph paused her words for a second before continuing to speak. Sokka glanced at Zuko before focusing on Toph, knowing what he was trying to do. At the sound of his friends’ conversation, Zuko threw his arms over his head and groaned loudly once again. This time, their conversation stopped completely before Sokka turned to face him.

“Yes, Zuko? Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing,” he replied gruffly. Toph couldn’t help but snort.

“Why is your heart beating so fast then, Sparky Pants?” Toph asked. “It can’t be ‘nothing’ if it’s got you all worked up.”

Zuko shot her a glare, forgetting that she couldn’t see it, before burying his face in his arms and mumbling something.

“What was that?” Sokka asked, a smirk on his face.

“(Y/N) was out there,” Zuko repeated, lifting his head up slightly. “Why was she the only one to greet us out there?”

“She wasn’t alone. Aang was with her,” Toph said. “Besides, she said something about making sure that you weren’t injured or anything.”

Zuko’s face went bright red once more. “Why couldn’t one of you be there with her?”

“Because your reaction every time she gets too close to you is hilarious,” Sokka replied. “Just tell her how you feel. The worst she can do is say no.”

The conversation died down as you entered the room with Aang and Katara trailing behind you. You aimed a smile at Zuko, heading over to the couch he was laying on. At the sight of you, Zuko scrambled up and all but sprinted away, a frown on his face as he muttered that if anyone needed him he would be in his room.

The smile melted off your face at Zuko’s actions. Katara noticed and came up behind you. “C’mon, help me with dinner?”

You nodded.

~ “Hey (Y/N/N)!”

You looked up when you felt Sokka sit next to you, drawing your attention from the two boys who were training in the courtyard. He followed your line of sight, smirking when his eyes landed on Zuko. “Enjoying the view?”

You hummed in response, still not facing the Water Tribe boy before replying. “I’m just studying them. It’s not every day you get to see firebenders just casually practicing their moves.”

“Whatever you say,” Sokka replied, leaning back on his elbows. “You don’t have to hide your feelings. He feels the same way y’know.”

The snort that left you was unintentional, but still drew Aang’s attention to you. He perked up immediately, his tiredness leaving his body in a second. “(Y/N/N)! How long have you been there?”

A blush covered your cheeks as Sokka nudged your side and snickered. “O-Oh, a few minutes. I was bored so I came out here to watch your lesson.”

“Great, can you do me a favor?” Aang asked, his eyes sparkling. You groaned internally knowing that you couldn’t deny the young Air Nomad anything. Silently, you nodded. “I promised Toph that I’d learn how to sandbend today but Zuko’s not done training. Can you please spar with him?”

“I’m not a firebender Aang,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Shouldn’t he be training with a firebender?”

“It’s fine, you don’t mind, do you Zuko?” Aang didn’t wait for Zuko’s response before continuing. “Besides, how often does he get to fight waterbenders? This is good practice!”

Before either of you could reply, Aang was already bouncing away. “Thanks (Y/N/N)!”

You stood up slowly and made your way to the middle of the makeshift arena, stretching as quickly as you could. Once you were done, you faced Zuko. “Ready?”

He nodded silently, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he realized you didn’t have a water skin near you. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, you lunged at him. He barely had time to duck, dodging your fist but not your leg. His knee buckled under your kick and he ended up on his knees. He glanced up at you to see you smirking.

“Cute. I always thought that I’d end up on my knees for you, not the other way around,” you commented, stepping further away from him. You dropped to a defensive position as he got to his feet, his cheeks burning as he stared you down.

The two of you moved at the same time, Zuko throwing a blast of fire at you as he ran. You slid underneath it, quickly standing and aiming a kick at him. He dodged it gracefully before sending another blast at you. Just when he was about to ask why you weren’t using your bending, you reached out, focusing on the water in the air around you and forming a thin stream of water.

Zuko’s jaw dropped slightly, he had never seen a waterbender pull water out of thin air. He managed to dodge the water whip you had created and sent up a wall of fire, turning it into a wall of steam as he evaporated the whip. You didn’t stop there however and managed to turn the vapor into ice shards which you quickly dropped onto Zuko.

He rolled out of the way, sticking his leg out at the same time. He succeeded in toppling you, and you squeaked as you fell onto your back. He moved to attack and you reacted quickly, drawing water out from nearby plants and sending it at him full force. The fire he had ready was extinguished and he ended up soaked from your attack.

“Nice one (Y/N)!” you heard Sokka yell, reminding you that he was still present. You shot him a look as you stood up before turning to face a now shirtless Zuko. 

“Spirits,” you whispered, trying not to stare at him. “How is this fair? Put your shirt back on! Or don’t.”

“You’re the one who got me all wet,” Zuko replied, tossing his shirt to Sokka and walking back to the middle of the arena.

“If only it were the other way around,” you whispered jokingly, causing Sokka to cackle. You joined Zuko once more, having no time to prepare before he attacked. The fight continued on for a few more minutes, the two of you all sweaty and tired. You decided to try and attack with ice again, dodging a punch from Zuko as you accumulated water from around you.

You couldn’t hold yourself back from making another comment as Zuko pushed his hair back from his face. “You know, I can think of a few other activities that can make us equally sweaty, if you’re interested.”

Zuko stumbled at the same time you attacked, allowing some of the ice shards to nip at his skin. He hissed lightly as the cuts began to bleed, silently chastising himself for letting you distract him.

“Oh no. Zuko!” you yelped, running over to the boy. Your face showed nothing but worry as you knelt next to him, taking in his injuries. “Let me get you healed.”

Your face scrunched in concentration as you waved your hand, a globule of water forming around it. Both of you were silent as you healed his cuts, biting your lip as the guilt crawled up on you.

“Stop doing that,” Zuko said suddenly, drawing your attention to him. You looked at him confused before you noticed his gaze was on your lip. Blushing, you looked back down to his wounds. You tried to ignore his gaze as you moved your hands up to his chest, healing the wounds there. Zuko wondered if you could feel his heart racing.

“I’m really sorry Zuko,” you whispered, finally done healing his chest. You glanced up at his face, wincing when you noticed a shallow cut on his cheek. He closed his eyes as you reached up and cupped his cheek, unintentionally nuzzling his cheek into your palm. After a minute, you pulled away. “I’m done.”

Zuko opened his eyes, meeting yours and causing you to stop completely.

“It’s okay,” he whispered back, his voice raspy from speaking so lowly. “It didn’t hurt that much.”

For once you were at a loss for words, no witty or flirty comment on the tip of your tongue as you stared into Zuko’s eyes. Remembering Sokka’s earlier words, you stepped closer to Zuko. He swallowed harshly but didn’t move.

“Zuko,” you whispered, dropping your gaze down to his lips. “Can I-”

“Hey! Aang needs you, Zuko,” Sokka suddenly called out, making the two of you jump apart. You whirled around, eyes narrowed as they landed on the Water Tribe boy. Despite the smug smirk on his face, he couldn’t help but flinch at your reaction, knowing that you were going to bite his head off once the two of you were alone.

Zuko’s eyes widened and he all but sprinted into the house, only pausing when Sokka grabbed his arm. “Forgetting something?”

“Oh, r-right,” Zuko said, taking his shirt from Sokka. He glanced at you briefly one last time before running into the house.

“Sokka,” you growled, stomping over to him. “What was that for?”

“What was what?” Sokka asked innocently, walking backwards to get away from you. A wide grin spread across his face. “The real question is: what was happening between the two of you back there?”

You pushed Sokka up against the porch railing and quickly froze his hand to it. “It might’ve been a kiss if you hadn’t interrupted.”

You stormed away after that, an annoyed expression on your face as you made your way into the house. Behind you, Sokka was trying to get free. He was unsuccessful.

“(Y/N)! Don’t leave me here! I’m sorry! (Y/N)?”

~

Zuko had managed to avoid talking to you the rest of the day, even when the two of you had been paired up to fight the Melon Lord. Toph had enjoyed that a little too much.

He sat furthest away from you during dinner and went to bed immediately after, giving a mumbled goodnight to the group. Everyone turned to face you after he left, a questioning look in their eyes (well, except for Toph). You had simply glared at Sokka, who had then proceeded to explain what had happened earlier between the two of you. The group couldn’t help but laugh, only annoying you further as they teased you about it.

You had gone to bed early too.

Katara had woken you up early the next morning, panic on her face as she dragged you out into the courtyard. “Aang’s gone!”

That statement woke you up immediately, and you found yourself looking at her with a confused expression. “What do you mean gone?”

“Look,” Sokka said, pointing to the spot next to you. “He left his staff. That’s so strange.”

“Aang’s not in the house,” you heard Zuko say as he joined you all outside.

“Let’s check the beach,” you said, walking away before you finished your sentence. The six of you trekked down to the beach, perking up slightly when you noticed Aang’s footprints. You followed them all the way to the edge of the water where they suddenly disappeared. “The trail ends here.”

“So he went for a midnight swim and never came back?” Suki asked skeptically.

"Maybe he was captured,” Katara said worriedly.

“I don’t think so,” Sokka muttered, looking at the footprints. “There’s no sign of a struggle.”

“I bet he ran away,” Toph said, her voice a little dull.

“No way, he wouldn’t leave behind Appa or his glider,” you countered.

“Then what do you think happened to him, oh sleuthy one?” Toph snarked back.

“It's pretty obvious,” Sokka suddenly said. “Aang mysteriously disappears before an important battle? He's definitely on a Spirit World journey”

“But if he was, wouldn't his body still be here?” Zuko asked.

Sokka bowed his head down in slight embarrassment. “Oh yeah. Forgot about that.”

“Then he's got to be somewhere on Ember Island,” Katara said. “Let's split up and look for him.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately grabbed onto Zuko’s arm, hugging it tightly. “I’m going with Zuko!”

“W-What?” Zuko stuttered, a bright blush coating his cheeks as he tried to ignore the fact that you were hugging his arm. Everyone else stared at you knowingly.

“What?!” you asked. “Everyone else went on a life-changing field trip with Zuko. Now it's my turn.”

“Try not to make it too life-changing,” Sokka muttered as he walked past you, earning a snicker from Suki and Toph. Sokka and Suki left on Appa and Katara and Toph headed into town to see if they could find him there. You kept holding on to Zuko’s arm as the two of you walked further along the beach. It was silent for a few minutes before you finally spoke up.

“Hey pretty boy, why have you been avoiding me?”

Zuko’s eyes widened and he turned to you. “W-What did you just call me?”

“Pretty boy,” you chirped, a smile on your face as you looked up at him. “Because y’know, you’re probably the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Zuko cleared his throat and dragged his gaze away from you. His eyes didn’t leave the water as you kept walking side-by-side.

“So,” you nudged him softly, sliding one hand down his arm to intertwine your fingers with his. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Zuko replied quickly, shaking you off his arm as he proceeded to walk a bit in front of you. You kept quiet as you caught up to him, biting your lip as you thought about the boy next to you.

“I thought I told you to stop doing that,” Zuko snapped, stealing a glance at you.

“Why?” you asked, releasing your lip. “Does it turn you on?”

“What?! N-No!” Zuko exclaimed. A faint trail of steam escaped his nose, letting you know that he was flustered.

“Relax, Zuko,” you chuckled. “I’m joking. Now, why have you been avoiding me?”

“We should be looking for Aang.”

“You and I both know that Aang isn’t here,” you replied, looking out at the vast ocean. “He’s probably doing some Avatar-related thing right now so why don’t you just tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you!”

“Yes you have! Ever since yesterday. Ever since I-” you cut yourself off, a blush appearing on your face as you thought about the almost-kiss between the two of you. Zuko swallowed nervously, also thinking about what had happened between the two of you.

“Ever since you almost kissed me,” Zuko filled in for you, his head hanging low. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Because you didn’t want to kiss me?” you asked, slightly upset. “You could’ve just said so, it doesn’t have to be weird.”

“Because I did want to kiss you,” Zuko replied almost immediately. The two of you came to a stop. “I’ve been avoiding you because I want to kiss you and be with you but I can’t.”

“Why?” you asked, thoroughly puzzled.

“I’ve done so many things,” Zuko whispered. “So many bad things. To Aang, to Katara, to you. I’m from the Fire Nation; I don’t deserve to be with someone like you.”

“That’s absurd,” you whispered back. “Your past doesn’t define you Zuko. You chose to make the right decision and sure, it took you a while but you realized that you were doing more harm than good. You changed, that’s what matters. You made the right choice even though you knew it could mean trouble for you and that’s why I like you.”

Zuko finally looked up at your words, his eyes full of wonder as he looked at you. A small smile appeared on his lips at your words and he found himself approaching you slowly. “Do you?”

You nodded softly.

“Zuko?” you asked quietly. “Hypothetically, if I had gotten the chance to ask if I could kiss you yesterday, what would you have said?”

“I- Hypothetically, I would’ve said yes,” Zuko whispered back. Feeling bold, you walked up to the prince and wrapped your arm around his neck.

“Do you trust me, Zuko?” you breathed, your lips inches away from his. You felt your heart speed up as his golden eyes met yours. Silently, he nodded. You wasted no time as you leaned up and pressed your lips against his. He stumbled back slightly, his back hitting the cliff that surrounded the beach as he grabbed onto your waist.

Almost immediately, he turned around, kissing you roughly and pressing you up against the wall as his body covered yours. Your hands tangled in his soft hair, your heart racing impossibly fast as you realized that you were actually kissing Zuko. You pulled away first, giving him a soft smile as you stared at him. “I take it you like me too?”

Zuko chuckled before nodding. “I do.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one gentle as you enjoyed each other’s presence. The two of you were so distracted that you didn’t hear Appa land on the beach a few yards from you.

“Hey! I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure Aang isn’t in either of your mouths.”

The two of you pulled away from each other to see Sokka looking at you with a wide smirk. Suki sat behind him, giving both of you a suggestive look. Zuko helped you climb onto Appa before joining you and sitting next to you.

“Yip yip,” Sokka said before he turned to you. “So (Y/N), how was that field trip of yours?”

You turned looked at Zuko beore intertwining your hands, making him blush and earning a smile from Suki and Sokka.

“Best field trip ever.”

~

taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby​, @bubblebars​, @iguessthefloorislava​, @dekahg​, @boxofteenageideas​, @purifiedbottledwater, @butterflycore​

[whack-ed]

Never (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Synopsis: Y/N and Draco had a fight, and after so much time together, do they split up? Could it end like this? It is not in the personality of either to give up that easly.

Warnings: angsty; bad language; flyffy ending.

Reader: Female

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: That was an anonymous request, so that’s it, I hope you like it!

Taglist:  @nebulablakemurphy​ @jamilelucato​  let me know if you want me to add you in my taglist ;)

Everyone at Hogwarts knew who Draco and Y/N were. Perhaps the most powerful couple in that school. The two commanded and disbanded in Slytherin. There was no student who was not even a little uncomfortable around them. But most preferred the two together rather than apart. Y/N could be very proud when something - or someone - inflicted her ego. Draco then, could be worse, he was never wrong. So knowing how the two would become more unbearable if they ever broke up, they preferred to put up with the green-colored monarchy they imposed on their house.

But unfortunately, for the bad luck of many, the worst happened. After being together since their fourth year, Y/N and Draco had broken up. Or is that what everyone thought. It was close to Christmas when it happened, thankfully, but It still had another month of real hell at Hogwarts. The ending was not even for such a relevant reason, but it seems that none of the two would take of your high heels to understand the other side.

“Look how ridiculous, I would be ashamed of being a hufflepuff and still be forced to wear a hair like that” Draco said as he passed a first year in the yellow uniform. Y/N who was on his side, looked at him madly. She never understood why Draco was so mean to others.

“Why do you do that, huh, Draco? The boy was doing nothing! You don’t have to be an asshole with everyone.” Y/N said with small signs of anger in hers speech. Draco stopped walking and looked at his girlfriend indignantly.

“Are you defending a hufflepuff, Y/N? What a pathetic thing.” He didn’t laugh like he did at the end of one of his sarcastic comments, since after all, this time he was talking very seriously.

“Hello? Pathetic?! Draco the boy was at most 12 years old! The school can already be difficult enough without a git filling the patience all the time!” People around there already beginning to look at the couple’s fight. Some frightened others curious, but no one threatened to get too close to angry Slytherins.

"Impressive. I didn’t know you liked people like that.” Draco made the best reproach face he could and looked Y/N in disgust. The girl’s blood boiled. Who does he think he was to be able to talk to her like that?!

“I thought you could have matured a little since your second year! But it looks like I was wrong. I always thought the way you implied with Potter was ridiculous, but I thought you could change, right, 16 years old Draco, you don’t need that anymore, right?” And Y/N didn’t contain a word, said everything she was trying to say for days, weeks, maybe months for her boyfriend, but she never found the right moment. And maybe, that one wasn’t either.

"Oh yes? If I’m mature enough why we’re still together then?! ” Draco screamed loudly, unintentionally, but everyone within a radius of at least 3km could hear. Some Slytherin students who passed close to them both had their fingers crossed to prevent what was going to happen. Y/N then raised her eyebrows, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She simply adjusted her uniform, and looked deep into the boy’s eyes, turned around and went on her way, saying nothing.

That had been a week ago, and since then, Draco had taken a vow of silence against Y/N. It was as if the girl just didn’t exist. At first it was kind of mutual, she also didn’t want to chat with him. But, apparently, she was the only one who had felt the slightest bit of regret about what they had done. After two weeks and still nothing, Draco continued to completely ignore the existence of Y/N. The girl, on the other hand, was never going to show that she missed him, although, as the days went by, she didn’t need to say with words what she was feeling, it was clear.

In a divination class, your partner was Blaise, the two of you were sitting at a table above Draco and Pansy. He always knew that you were a little jealous of the girl, since you two were never very good friends, and she always made it very clear that her fancies draco Draco. They were both whispering things and giggling right in front of Y/N. Her furious eyes at the two kept her from paying attention to what were the names of Jupiter’s moons.

"Why don’t you go talk to him already, Y/N?” Blaise said to the girl beside him, it was as clear as daylight that she was jealous.

“Me? Why would I talk to him? I don’t understand your points, you know” She said finally taking her eyes off Draco, since she had been discovered.

“You two are really unbearable, him acting like you don’t exist and you acting like you don’t care. Really pathetic. ” He leaned back and turned his attention to the Professor in front of him.

Y/N chose to ignore Blaise, he didn’t make sense in the girl’s opinion, he was just someone else who had a wrong opinion about her … Right?

***

The following days were nothing different, cute Draco with Pansy and Y/N hating any man. People were starting to get used to the idea that the most powerful couple at Hogwarts was no longer together, it seemed, and were relieved not to be as bad as they thought it could be. Some would dare say it was even better that way. The two without speaking for so long, even if therw was no official ending, it was easier to put up with. At the end of a long day, with two times of history of magic, Y/N has just returned to the common room. 

She was beginning to think that after almost a month without speaking, Draco already considered her his ex-girlfriend. These thoughts haunted her for many hours, and she hated them deeply. He could be an asshole at times, but if there were people Y/N was sure to have a good heart, even if deep down, it was Draco. She really liked him.

As soon as the girl entered the common room, she caught a glimpse of Draco and Blaise talking near a pillar, and just passed by without wanting Draco to see her with teary eyes as the thoughts she hated so much were back. But even though she was passing fast, she couldn’t help but hear a comment from Draco “I’m telling you, Blaise, every day that I wanted that this git to have never come to Hogwarts, it’s incredible how I can’t stand being around without feeling rage” And the girl didn’t wait another second to run upstairs and drop the tears on her pillow. That was it, Draco wanted to end it all.

The next day was the most difficult of those last days. It seemed that everything around reminded her of Draco, it seemed that everyone around her was happly dating. If Y/N could choose a super power it would certainly be invisibility. At least she would have potions class today, her favorite subject, and yet she doubted she would pay any attention, last night had been filled not with snoring, but with sobs from crying.

She entered the potions room and went straight to the back table, she didn’t want to draw attention today. As Professor Slughorn was speaking, Y/N was more and more sure that the table looked very comfortable for taking a nap.

"Miss Y/L/N” Professor Slughorn called Y/N, the girl was far from waking up, several students were laughing quietly. He called her three more times before giving up and trying something different. “Well, guys, as I said to you, Amortenia is a very strong potion, probably the most dangerous in this room. And to prove it to you, I’m going to use it to wake up Miss Y/L/N. ” So the Porfessor put some of the potion in a bottle and took it open very close to Y/N, the girl in the same time woke up.

“What the …” She got up scared and looked around the room, looking for where this familiar smell came from. 

“Can you share with the class what you smell, Miss Y/L/N?” Professor Slughorn asked.

“Hm… a woody smell, with a hint of mint and… chamomile shampoo.” The girl replied and everyone laughed, everyone in the room knew who was the only person at school who could have these three smells at the same time. Draco who was on the other side of the room, stared at Y/N with sad eyes. It seems that finally, after days, he realized who he was ignoring. Whose flowers did he smell when the professor opened the potion next to him. Seeing Y/N the way, holding back the crying, broke his heart into a thousand pieces. What had he done.

As everyone was laughing, and the Professor Slughorn without understanding nothing, let the girl go to the bathroom when she asked. He might not have understood why, but he knew that for some reason the smell that the girl felt made her very sad, since the girl had tears in her eyes.

“Professor, can I go to the bathroom too?” Draco asked the professor a few minutes after Y/N left. That’s when he understood everything. As soon as the boy got close to him, he felt exactly what Y/N had described. Slughorn may be not a student anymore, but as a good slytherin, he heard the gossip here and there. “Ah… Of course, of course, you can.”

Draco ran down the castle corridors after Y/N, she couldn’t have gone that far. He then stopped and thought for a minute, where could she be? And without much delay he got his answer. The boy ran to the bathroom where he was sure he would find Y/N, and he was right.

He heard it outside one of the cabins. “He doesn’t deserve you if he goes to treat you like rubbish!” Myrtle’s voice echoed throughout the bathroom, as no one came, it was normal for this to happen. Draco wasn’t sure why, but Y/N was the only person at Hogwarts who really enjoyed Myrtle’s company. 

Unfortunately the conversation between the two did not last much longer, Draco made a lot of noise when entering the bathroom. Y/N without thinking twice, took her wand and stood by, that was what made the girl a first-rate Slytherin. "Who’s there?“ 

“Y/N, it’s me, Draco” The boy said coming closer to the cabin door where his girlfriend was.“Filthy fellow! Go away, don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Myrtle said flying over the stall with his arms crossed to look Draco in the eye. Naturally Myrtle was already scary, but sailing in anger instead of sad was worse than you can imagine.

“Go away, Draco” A much less aggressive and much more tearful voice came from the other side of the wooden door. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was crying a few minutes ago.“I just want to talk …” Draco put a hand on the door in front of him. “Ah! Briliant! Now do you want to talk? ” Myrtle replied angrily.“Can you let me talk to my girlfriend in peace, Myrtle?!” Draco replied angrily to the ghost that hung over him. Myrtle was going to give a very rude answer when Y/N interrupted her. “Myrtle, if you don’t mind, can you give us a little privacy?” Myrtle groaned in disapproval, but ended up diving through the pipes of one of the bathroom toilets.

“Well, since you decided to be so talkative, you can speek now" 

"You can open the door, I mean that for you and not for an old wooden door” Draco grunted, still holding his hands on the door, holding it as if it could fall at any moment.

“No. Whatever you have to say, say it anyway” Y/N shrugged her feet over the toilet, she was sitting on top of the lid. 

Draco sighed and leaned his head against the door. "I’m sorry, Y/N.” He sighed for another moment. “I was an idiot. Ignoring you was the most stupid thing I’ve ever done. And teasing you with Pansy was even worse, God that girl is a nightmare.” He vowed to hear a Y/N giggle muffled by the door. Then he turned on his back and stood there. “I … I really tried to be without you, but today in Professor Slughorn’s class, seeing you describe … well … what you described, just made me realize what I was doing, it was so … . bloody stupid. Look, I understand if you want to break up, I really was an asshole, but I needed you to know that I regretted talking to you that way, the same time I saw you walk away from me.” And he walked away from the door.

In all this time together, Y/N had never seen Draco be so transparent with what he felt. So he didn’t want to end, but what about the conversation with Blaise? Y/N opened the door and was faced with a very sad Draco. Definitely the girl had never seen him look so downcast. He let out a sad smile when he saw the girl with puffy eyes and red cheeks in front of him. It was incredible that she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

"So you don’t want to finish things?" A hoarse voice came from Y/N’s throat. "Me? Finish? Never! Where did you get that crazy idea? ” Draco replied approaching the girl."I heard you talking to Blaise yesterday in the common room, about not being able to stand the thought of having me at Hogwarts…” She replied looking at her feet. Draco laughed through his nose.“I was talking about Potter, Y/N …” And came closer to the girl.

Now it was Y / N’s turn to laugh. “I should have known …” She finally hugged the boy in front of her by the waist. Draco smiled and looked deep into his girlfriend’s eyes. He was happy again. He felt complete. Having Y/N in his hands was like having the whole world to himself. Drunk with so much love, he didn’t wait another second to place a kiss on the girl’s lips. Was her. He knew she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

After breaking the kiss that shared so much passion, Draco said in such a low tone that only Y/N could hear, even if there was no one else there. “Promise me something?” The girl looked into his gray eyes, always liked the immensity of feelings that lived there, and agreed with the head. “Never walk away from me again, seeing you leave was the worst thing I’ve ever felt.” The girl smiled and placed another short kiss on his lips.

“Never.”