#Fred doesn’t do anything but we just like him

[2urban2fantasy]

[dreamcubed]

hp fanfic recs!!

hello all! i feel like i dont interact enough with this community, so here's some recs for you all (i do follow these people, on my main blog @emptytakeawaycup) give them a follow too!

mattheo riddle;

we aren't over (18+) - @slytherinslut0

summary; fwb gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off

this love - @wordsarelife

summary; mattheo finally asks you to be his girlfriend

let me ruin fuck you (18+) - @slytherinslut0

summary; worried that mattheo was just going to use you for sex and leave, you had him agree to courting you first until you felt you were ready to take it to the next level. after months of this, mattheo finally can’t take it anymore, and lands himself on his knees at your feet

theodore nott;

the cat chronicles - @obsessedwithceleste

summary; five times theodore nott *accidentally* stole your cat

darling socialite - @fangisms

summary; you are talkative as all hell, and theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener

just like your boyfriend - @angelfrombeneth

summary; you and theodore are the new it couple in hogwarts. theo's known for always causing up a stir but never you. at least you do yours in private. it isn't until your faced with skylar snaggle, the one girl you can't stand that you break that streak

too many nights - @priniya

summary; theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with matt’s little sister to not make her his girlfriend

second hand smoking - @evergone

summary; a short one where theo teaches the reader how to smoke

i'm [nott] a bad person - @evergone

summary; the reader and theo are accused of causing a fight, but they swear they didn't do it

an unintended double date - @papercorgiworld

summary; enzo doesn’t want you ruining his date so he calls in back up to keep you busy, which leads to an interesting date

fred weasley;

something that we're not - @sergeantbuckybarnes

summary; you and fred are friends. best friends. who happen to cuddle and sleep in bed together all the time

anything - @ibbythebee

summary; fred would do anything to see you, "hogwart's strictest prefect", loosen up

first time (18+) - @frenziedfireworks

summary; you've been trying to figure out how to bring up sex to your boyfriend...

george weasley;

blindsided - @desideriumwriter

summary; as the gryffindor quidditch team celebrates their win on the field, malfoy begins to openly throw insults in front of george and fred towards them, their parents, harry, and you. george isn’t able to ignore and shrug off his mockery. it only ends in a shocking altercation between the redheaded gryffindor and sneering slytherin

blaise zabini;

everything i'll ever need - @slytherinslut0

summary; your boyfriend whisks you away from the enchanting yule ball, blindfolding your eyes in mystery, alluding to a secret spot. though he suggests it's merely to show you something, what unfolds is a testament to his deep appreciation for your love of nature and a showcase of his genuine gentlemanly demeanour

a night at the museum - @pizzaapeteer

summary; where your boyfriend blaise takes you for your birthday to your favourite place

draco malfoy;

an unintended double date - @papercorgiworld

summary; enzo doesn’t want you ruining his date so he calls in back up to keep you busy, which leads to an interesting date

remus lupin;

remus can tell you have a crush on him - @luveline

remus and you exist in your own little bubble - @luveline

[dearharriet]

"you're really red right now." with george weasley? and congrats on 150! 🥳

thank you sm for the request! <3 (wc: 851)

Swinging under the restricted access rope, you climb the stairs to the twins’ annex two at a time. Behind you, the store is mostly quiet, except for Fred’s loud singing as he feeds the pygmy puffs.

The banister is creaky when you lean on it, so you’re sure George can hear you coming. His door is open, so you let yourself in, announcing yourself with a rap on the stained pine trim.

“Fred says you’re hiding, but I can’t imagine what from,” you say instead of hello. “Certainly not me, I hope?”

George glances away from his books, halfway through a bite of takeaway. His mouth stills its chewing as he blinks owlishly at you. His hair is all askew, likely from tugging at it in concentration, and he has a tiny speck of sauce on his chin. You’d probably find it embarrassing if you didn’t like him so much.

“Sorry, hello,” you amend, realizing you caught him unawares. He remains frozen, though his jaw starts working to rid itself of the food that’s keeping him silent.

“Hi,” he ekes out, “on your break, are you?”

You hum affirmatively, coming around his desk to converse more privately with him.

“Yeah, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this idea I have for a product we could release near Christmas,” you ramble, leaning a hip against his desk and crossing your arms. George is staring up at you like you’re a star he’s never seen before. “A red-hot cocoa. We could infuse dragon peppers into the mix—to make it really spicy, yknow?”

George doesn’t look too convinced. If anything, he looks like he hasn’t heard you at all.

“I know it’s sort of similar to flaming fudge, but I thought the effect of making it themselves might add intrigue for customers,” you continue, starting to feel a little bit embarrassed.

Silence stretches just long enough to be uncomfortable, emphasized by an especially loud zzzzzziiiiiip from downstairs.

Biting your lip, you wince. “George?”

He blinks, seeming to come alive again, somewhat.

“Did you do something to your hair?” he asks out of the blue.

You frown. “You didn’t hear what I said, did you?”

To his credit, George looks terribly guilty in the face of your accusation. He takes it in stride, too, despite being every color of wrong.

“Is that what you were telling me about?” he asks.

Sighing, you take his loosened tie and shake it around in teasing frustration. There was a time when doing something as familiar as that would make you feel unprofessional, but you know better now.

“No. I was telling you about my idea for a new product.”

George’s mouth opens and closes silently, searching for words. He looks hot around the collar, from embarrassment or flustering or both. You like to tease him like this, because upon meeting him, he didn’t seem the type to be fazed by flirting at all.

Feeling maniacal, you take the opportunity to wipe away the food still on his chin, letting your touch linger a hair longer than necessary. The color in George’s neck shoots up to his pale cheeks, giving him the hue of a ripe strawberry.

“Merlin, George,” you muster through a grin, “you’re really red right now.”

He ducks his head then, ardently avoiding any inch of you he can. Cursing, he presses the backs of his hands to his cheeks to cool them.

“Sorry.” He steals a glance at you, his brows furrowed in what might be confusion. “Remind me what your idea was?”

You accommodate him, running the idea past him again, with more confidence this time. You don’t mind wasting your break away talking, at least not with George.

“Hot cocoa,” he repeats, rubbing his chin. You weren’t expecting a promotion or anything, but his mild response worries you. “We could workshop it together, yeah?”

“Sure,” you say, nerves winding tight in your chest. “If you’re not too busy.”

“Honestly, I haven’t done any work since an hour ago,” he admits. “Is it busy downstairs?”

You strain to listen past George’s office, down the stairs in the popular shop. It’s easy to make out the fizzing lightning effects and the siren-like sounds that engulf the love potion display, but any real crowd bustle is absent.

“Hardly,” you say.

George pushes up from his chair, making for his door. “Good,” he says, “we can start now.”

He closes the heavy door, and then retrieves a cauldron and hauls it over to his desk. Before he sets it down, though, he holds it up in front of your face.

“In case you were wondering why I thought you did something to your hair,” he explains, “it’s because someone did something to your hair.”

In the warped reflection on the brass cauldron you can see yourself—and your flaming pink hair.

“Merlin, I look like Tonks.”

George laughs at that, dropping the heavy basin onto the rich mahogany table. He doubles back to his shelves again to collect some ingredients.

“Any idea who did it?” he prompts.

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah. He looks a lot like you.”

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[nico-di-genova]

For the ask game:

22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

For Lestappen please! 🙏🏼

Thank you, have a lovely day 🫶🏼

22. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

Charles has just about had it. Had it with the media who shove microphones in his face and demand to know what happened, why he and Max had ended up tire deep in the gravel. Had it with Pierre making little jokes about Charles and his ‘anger issues’. Had it with the disappointed looks Fred keeps casting his way during debriefs, as the damage to the car is discussed and the cost it will take to fix it. He’s had it with the social media team, the word ‘inchident’, the way his bad English in his teens seem to be one of his longest lasting legacies.

“It’s okay, we can spin this," they say, as if he gives a shit. It was a race. He raced, he saw a gap, he went for it, Max moved, and they both ended up out. It wasn’t anything.

But jesus, if Max gives him another one of those looks, Charles is going to lose every bit of media training he’s ever endured and strangle him right on this stage. In front of God, the cameras and everyone. He clenches his fists in his lap, grinds his teeth, feels his jaw tense. The cameras are probably picking it up, so he schools his expression into bored indifference. A neutral mask, they will know he is unhappy but they will not know it is with the Dutch bastard staring him down from the other end of the couch.

“It was nothing. Just an inchident, right Charles?” Max says, with that edge of ‘I think I’m hilarious, aren’t I?’ that makes Charles want to actually scream.

Instead, he picks up his own mic and laughs, nearly a giggle as he’s been instructed, it plays cuter. Makes him look less like the track menace who rammed into the back of Max’s car on turn sixteen of the Chinese circuit, as he cursed out Max’s speed in the straights over the radio.

“Yes, hah, right. We will, uh, we will do better this weekend.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as strained as he feels, rehearsed, it’s harder to pretend when he can feel the weight of Max’s gaze on him like the full weight of his own car, plus half the rest of the grids just for good measure.

Max grins, wicked little glint in his eye, “Absolutely.” And then he’s spinning the attention away from Charles and back to the Red Bull’s performance in high wind conditions – there’s a tropical storm brewing off the coast and it’s been fucking with the weather. How his team is confident they will be able to pull away from the rest of the grid with enough ease that situations like the last race don’t happen again.

Charles thinks about beating him to death with the microphone in his hands. Not seriously, not in a way he would ever act on, just in a way that would mean he doesn’t have to stare at the back end of a Red Bull wing for another fifty-seven laps.

The rest of media day is fairly uneventful. He knocks out some joint video stuff with Carlos, does a few social media photos and merch signings, and tries to ignore the questions about Max that just seem to keep coming.

Only once does he bite, when someone asks him if he and Max will ever refollow each other on Instagram.

He laughs, “He will have to follow me back first.”

There’s a camera recording his response, grainy iPhone footage that he will definitely see on Twitter later. Good. Let Max see the gauntlet he’s thrown down. Let him see the Ferrari cap Charles had been signing with the easy flick of his wrist and sharpie across the brim. Let him see Charles does not care.

Because he doesn’t.

Why should he?

Except that maybe he does, because when Max shows up at his hotel room that night he can’t help the annoyed sound that escapes him.

“What?”

“What?”

“What?”

“So we’re fine a week ago, but you send me into the gravel and it’s you who gets to play the silent game?”

He’s been ignoring Max’s texts. There had been a lot of them.

“There is no game, I am busy. Meetings. Repairs. You know, the damage to the car.”

“Oh you’re moonlighting as your own mechanic now? Ferrari is that desperate?”

Max is angry, but more than that he’s hurt. Charles can see the flash of it in his eyes and in the tension when he clenches and unclenches his fists at his side.

“You’re-“ Max glances down the hall, at the Aston Martin employee who’s casting them glances.

Charles waves.

Max lowers his voice until only Charles can hear, “You are such a sore loser.”

The sting of it is well aimed, lands right between Charles ribs, pisses him off enough that he drops the act for a minute and tells Max to go fuck himself in Italian before slamming the door in his face.

It’s not that he’s never been called that before, more than he’s never been called it by Max. Somehow that hurts more.

Max wins in Miami. Charles has engine trouble on lap thirty and has to retire by lap thirty-two. The smile that he forces on afterward when he lies through his teeth that ‘it is like this’ hurts more than his pounding head after the DNF in China.

He tries to drown it all out by hiding in his room until his flight the next morning, instead he ends up at Max’s door.

“I hate you,” he says when the man opens it wide enough that Charles can slink past.

His hair is damp, sticking up in spikey points atop his head, and his white shirt is sticking to wet patches of his skin. He smells like ember, or leather, or something distinctly sharp. Charles tries not to think about it.

Instead, he paces tracks into the plush carpet and keeps his eyes glued to the movement of his own feet while the words spew out of him faster than he can stop them. It’s not all in English, spoken so fast he’s sure Max has missed most of it.

“I fucking hate you. You stupid. Moronic. Annoying. Idiot. You and your inchident like I am stupid. Fuck you. That was my race. My line-.”

“Is this about China?”

“Yes,” Charles spits, “Of course it is about China.”

Max crosses his arms. Watches as Charles motions wildly in the air.

“It is about China. And Suzuka. And Melbourne. About every circuit you follow me onto.”

“I follow you onto?”

“Shut up.”

“Interesting perspective.”

“Stop.”

“I didn’t even finish Melbourne.”

“Shut. Up!” He yells, he can’t help it, feels like something in his chest finally snaps and then there is a long silence where neither of them say anything at all. They both stare at each other, like someone took out a gun and shot the other. Charles does not yell. He is polite, kind, he is exceedingly lovely.

He does not yell.

Except that sometimes he does, and right now he would like to just so he could feel the pure release of it. Sometimes he does not want to be fucking kind. But he also does not want to yell at Max, realizes the pointlessness of it all.

“You want to be friends? Still?” Charles asks, because it is Max who had begun this whole dance of repairing whatever shattered thing sat between them from when they were kids. Max who had started texting him asking to play FIFA and paddle, to go running with him, offered his private jet for flights if needed. Giving everything hand over fist to Charles, assumedly because Red Bull had seen how well he listened to team orders, and behaved, and wanted to own him before Ferrari could lock him down again. Charles had played the game, and he’d maybe even become Max’s friend in the process, but there’s still a part of him that is twelve and bitter – bitter that Max has always had the money, the better kart, bitter he can’t seem to catch up no matter how hard he pushes down on the throttle.

“Do you want to be friends?” Max asks, keeping a wary distance from Charles that once would have felt normal but now seems unfamiliar. He looks at Charles like he is a ticking time bomb. Charles hates it. He hates feeling weak.

“I…I don’t know.”

“We don’t have to be, “ Max says, like the thought has not occurred to Charles.

“I know-.”

Max cuts him off like he can hear the growing edge in Charles' voice and wants to avoid alerting the housekeeping staff in the hall to their bickering.

“Then just say that. I won’t text. I’ll leave you alone. Don’t do something you don’t want to do, Charles.”

It is reminiscent of Max telling him choose whatever team he wanted a few months back, telling him to fuck expectation and do something just because he wanted it. Which was ironic coming from the three-time world champion who only wanted to race cars online. Charles chose Ferrari, because there was never realistically a world where he wouldn’t.

The simpleness of it, the way Max is so willing to just let him go, to give up on the bridge they’d slowly been building between them – Charles suddenly hates him all over again. Max Verstappen and his chivalry and his kindness and his brutal honesty because he has no need to lie. It sparks that familiar jealousy in Charles.

Which is maybe why he throws some of Max’s own medicine back at him.

“I have seen the way you look at me,” he blurts out, “When you think I will not notice.”

Max takes a moment to catch-up with the twist in conversation. His eyebrows doing this expressive little dance that Charles almost finds endearing before it settles on hurt shock.

“What?”

“You are not subtle.”

“I don’t-.”

“You’re only nice to me because you think you can fuck me now. That doesn’t make you special Max, that is all anyone wants me for anyway.”

There is a moment where he thinks Max will tell him to get out, a moment where he would go, it is a moment that is quickly lost in the anger that makes itself at home in Max’s eyes. The bridge crumbles, they are twelve and all they want to do is hurt.

“God, how do you see anything over that massive ego of yours, Leclerc.”

“You’re the three time champion, Verstappen. You tell me.”

Max steps closer, Charles steps back, he meets the resistance of the dresser and Max is suddenly there. Chest to chest, the two of them staring each other down with enough vitriol that it would probably put Pierre and Esteban to shame.

“You’re a fucking dick, Charles.” Max growls, “It’s not my fault Ferrari can’t pull their shit together enough to put you in a decent car.”

“Your car is a violation,” Charles spits back, “easy to win when you ignore the rules. Like always.”

They should stop, Charles thinks, knows they’re toeing along the precipice of something. But he’s sick of playing by the rules, so he pushes.

“Cheating is how you win, yes?”

Max's hands fist in the fabric of his shirt and push him further against the dresser before he even has the chance to blink. The furniture digs into his spine, until Charles can’t help the wounded sound that escapes him.

Max wrestles with something inside himself, Charles watches the struggle. He starts to pull away, but Charles grabs him by the hips and keeps him there. Max looks at him with that familiar expression, the one that Charles has been ignoring for months, want and need and longing all wrapped in steely grey that should be cold but might be warmest thing Charles has ever been cast in the light of.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Max says, and Charles feels rage. But it isn’t rage, not at all. It’s want. It’s the same feeling he gets when he’s gaining on Max in a race, hungry with the need to pass, to overtake, to get ahead and taste the clean air for once. It’s what landed them both in the gravel two weeks back.

Charles is smart, calculated when he needs to be, and right now he doesn’t want to play dumb.

“If I want you to hurt me?” he asks, really asks, even if he’s sure he hasn’t read the signs wrong.

Max’s expression does another dance, settles on the same want that Charles is reflecting back at him, “I don’t cheat.” He states.

Charles smiles, and it’s not the PR smile, all pretty for the cameras, it’s the smile of a man who drives on the limit and curses when he still can’t get ahead. “I don’t care. I’m going to beat you one day either way.”

Max wins in Imola, but Charles wins in Monaco.

They stand on the podium as the Monégasque anthem blares and he looks at Charles with pride, longing, reverence.

Charles notices, he always does.

[justtwotired]

Hey can you please write a Victor krum story with a shy fem reader (reader is a weasley)! And her brothers find out about her and krum and they get over protective!! Thank you so much I love your work!

Yes! Of course, I really like this request actually! I think Krum is actually really sweet I’m even though he doesn’t seem like it!

Hermione and Y/n giggled as they read the letter Krum had sent the girl. He explained how he thought she was so beautiful and if she wanted to go to the ball with him.

The two had been seeing each other for a while now and Y/n was so happy he asked her out. “That is so sweet! you have to say yes!” Hermione said excitedly and the girl nodded. “Of course I’m saying yes, I’ve been waiting for this ever since our kiss two days ago, I really hoped her ask me out.” She said and Hermione squealed.

“You are not to tell Ron and the twins though, they’d kill him.” Ginny said from behind them as she leaned on the common room couch. “Obviously we aren’t telling them anything, they’d ruin it all.” Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Not tell us what?” Ron asked as he, Harry and the twins walked in. “None of your business.” Y/n grumbled and folded the letter. “Now, now little sister, don’t be mean, tell us what’s going on.” George grinned.

“Shove off, you three.” Ginny said as she pushed Ron who came to stand next to her away. “Hey stop that! I am just standing.” He said annoyed.

“Oh, look at this, it wouldn’t have to do anything with what you aren’t telling us, does it?” Fred suddenly fished the letter out of Y/n’s hands and she gasped and tried to grab it back but George held her back.

Fred then proceeded to dramatically read the letter and the boys chuckled a bit Ginny tried grabbing it from him but he stepped out of the way and held it out of her reach.

“Such an adorable letter.” Fred teased. “Now let’s see who sent you this.” He grinned and looked at the name, his smile immediately dropping. “Krum? Bloody Krum sent you this?” He asked pointing the letter at her accusingly.

“Yeah? So what?” She said annoyed and grappled the letter away from his hands. “Obviously she’s going to say no!” Ron said. “You are right?” He turned to her.

“No! No I won’t say no! I will accept if of course! He’s really sweet.” She sis sand the three huffed and rolled their eyes. “Krum? He’s the opposite of sweet, besides, he’s the enemy.” George bellowed.

The three girls huffed and ignored them, heading to their dorms, Ginny joining Hermione and Y/n in their dorm.

“They are such morons, they can’t tell me what to do!” The girl said angrily. “Just ignore them, we’re going dress shopping tomorrow, and we won’t talk to them till they apologise!” Ginny said and the other two agreed.

So that’s what they did, they ignored the boys, except for Harry, as he didn’t really mind at all. They went dress shopping, Hermione got a beautiful blue gown, Ginny a green one with pink ribbons and Y/n got a long red dress along with a new pair of red earrings.

Later that day, Ron approached and they walked past him and didn’t say anything. He called after them but they just ignored it again.

The night of the ball, the three had gotten ready together, helping each other with make up and hair. They looked beautiful to say the least. Ginny was going with Neville and Hermione- who had broke and talked to Ron again, went with him, after he had cowardly asked her.

The girls walked down the stairs and many stared as they headed for their dates. “Y/n.” Krum greeted with his Bulgarian accent, making her name sound rather weird, but she didn’t mind. “Victor.” She greeted back.

He kissed her hand like a true gentle man and she giggled, making him smile. Putting a gentle hand on her waist, they walked to McGonagall who was gathering the champions and their dates.

Soon, the five champions opened the dance, Y/n had gotten way to much practice from her mother when she was younger, and Krum, somehow was a very good dancer.

As they danced, they suddenly heard yelling. “I see where that hand is, Krum! Not to low aye!” It was Fred and Y/n’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “If you try anything I will hex you!” George’s voice sounded.

“We know lots of hexes! You probably wouldn’t be able to handle the second task after!” Fred agreed and their two little sisters glared at them and McGonagall had to shush them.

After the opening dance, the real party began and the students all danced and had fun. Krum twirled her around when suddenly she was pulled away. “If you don’t mind, we need to have a brother sister dance.” Fred said and took his sister away. She broke away from him and hit his shoulder.

“Stop being an arse!” She said annoyed. “I am protecting you!” He said and she rolled her eyes. “No, you’re being annoying, leave me alone, let me have fun for once.” She said and headed back for Krum.

“I’m so sorry about that.” She said and he smiled. “It is alright.” He said and they continued their night.

“Hey, Y/n, can I speak to you for a moment?” Ron’s voice sounded and she turned to him. “I swear to Merlin Ron, if you do not go back to Hermione I will hex you to the next century.” She said angrily and he ran off.

It had been the third time that night that he had come to interrupt them and she was so done with it.

When the night ended, he thanked her for the time they had. “I would like to show you Bulgaria some time when the tournament is over.” He said and her smile grew. “I would love that!” She said excitedly.

“That is great!” He beamed at her when the shrill voice of Karkaroff interrupted them and he looked rather annoyed. “Krum? Are you coming? We need to get back to the ship.” He said and he called back that he would be there.

“I will see you tomorrow?” He asked and she nodded. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.” She nodded. He leaned forward and kissed her. She smiled and kissed him back, feeling her cheeks flush.

“Goodnight.” He said when they pulled apart. With a last kiss on her cheek he left making her breath a laugh at the amazing night she just had. Yeah, run off back to your ship.” She turned around annoyed at her three brothers. “Can you not be so annoying?” She asked and they grumbled some things under their breath.

“He kissed you! That’s disgusting!” Ron said and Hermione, who just arrived shoved him angrily. “Leave her alone, Ron, she’s just had her first date!” The girl said angrily.

“What’s with you guys pushing me the whole time!” Ron then complained, and just like that, the topic changed and they left her alone about Krum.

[cherry-pop-elf]

George Weasley Sexcanons

Because im extremely sick, so im bored

Warnings? Sex sex sex and more sex. Along with some submissive Georgie baby~

What gets his engine going

He’s more of the submissive type. Your definition of a service top. He loves to make sure his partner is feeling so good. Their comfort comes, heh, first before anything else. Mans has 100% just gotten off from eating out/rimming/sucking off

He’s….Hes got mommy issues. As much as we love Molly, you can not deny she was rather verbally abusive. Not to mention having seven kids means you’ll Never have one on one properly. I won’t rant, but mans got a serious mommy kink. Doesn’t matter if you are a man, he’s calling you mommy!

Is a sucker for risk taking. He’s gonna try and eat you out at a quidditch game, jerk you off at the leaky cauldron, he’s gonna rail you in an alley way. He’s an adrenaline junkie, and probably wouldn’t be to shy at the idea of actually doing it infront of people. He likes the rush of it all

If you get a tattoo with his name, or some kind of indication you are his? Oh that’s going to make him feral. He doesn’t actually believe in owning and such, but there is something so enjoyable about it in fantasy. Kink doesn’t equal reality! ((And obviously I don’t need to clarify what is off the table))

Let me say this once, mans has a MAJOR Breeding Kink. Doesn’t matter if you can get pregnant. He’s going to find a way to fuck a baby into you. He’s a Weasley. They love to prove the impossible

Like I said about mommy kink, he is so gonna be a brat. It’s not a number one go to, that’s Fred, but he loves being a menace to society. If he’s not being a brat, you calling him a bad boy might make him cry. That’s why it’s healthy to communicate in the bed room!

Spank him. Spank him nice and good.

Lingerie lingerie lingerie

He might be a size queen, but you didn’t hear it from me 🤭

Oh he just loves doing it in his office. There is something so hot about it. To have you sit in his office, as he eats you out. How you would pin him on the desk, and pound him so hard it starts to rattle. To have you casually come in, wearing nothing at all, and crawling over all the paper work to get to him. If he’s having a bad day, sneak into his office and remind him he’s the boss

Don’t think you won’t be shared with Fred. They are magical twins. They share everything together.

Don’t be shy of your body hair. He likes his bitches natural. There’s also something so romantic to him about it. That you can just be your truest self around him, and not need to panic about your looks. Just your true self, and such

Speaking of natural self, he likes his bitches a little thicc. Blame his dad for liking em big. Nothing like some love handles to grab onto, or some ear warmers to keep him trapped in place. But most importantly? The cuddles

Expect to be of ‘use’ during busy hours at work. Like sucking him off while he does paper work, or being stress relief after a Karen comes into town

Boobs? Butt? Mans a thigh guy. He loves himself a partner with thick thighs, long legs, and some well pedicured feet. Yes. He’s a feet guy. Thigh highs in orange will make him cream alright

Expect to be his partner in trying new sex shop items

Speaking of that, don’t be scared to try new things with him. You never know. Maybe your weird kink could be the next hottest item the shop!

AFAB Partner Shenanigans

His favorite position with you would be the mating press. He just loves having your legs over his shoulders, and getting a front row seat at your begging face

He is going to be that type to fill you full of cum, and make you walk around with it

Sundresses baby

Peg him silly boo boo. He will ride that strap on until sunrise don’t even question it

Expect lots of cock warming. Especially when busy at work

Your tits are his now. His favorite thing to play with, when it isn’t your pussy. Even not in a sexual sense. You’ll just wake up with a hand on the tibbie

AMAB Partner Shenanigans

His favorite position is cowgirl. To have his hands on your chest, as he pants. Whimpering and moaning, as you move in and out of him. To have you spank him to move faster. Gets him all kinds of work up

He’s gonna be a shit head and sneak under tables a lot and have his fun with you

You will wake up to him dealing with your morning wood

He is going to sit on your cock when he is doing work. He will be a bastard and spin his hips

[norrisleclercf1]

charles who is all of a sudden SO cranky and irritable. with carlos, fred, even pierre and joris. but only 4 people know his biggest secret. arthur, lorenzo, pascale, and joris. everyone else is just SO confused on what the hell his problem is all of a sudden and how he needs to snap out of it last week. but what they don’t know is that his little baby girl is in hospital, so so so so so sick, nonstop crying, having trouble breathing. just overall looking so pale and sickly and cha can’t help but worry about the worst. and the babe ends up being in hospital long term, between critical care and intensive care, down to a unit for babes who are less sick but then bouncing right back up. maybe she needs a procedure done to help, and she’s so little she can’t say many words but she’s very clear about wanting dada. so on a wednesday on race week he takes a red eye flight so he can cuddle his babe and hold her hand before/during them taking her back. i’ve seen those pics and i’m sure cha would be this dad where he’s just lay on the bed with the babe to hold her. and she’s a level 100 clinger when it comes to her daddy. and when she’s asleep on his chest (he would take his shirt off just so she feels closer and safer) he looks over to you who looks equally pale, and crying. tells you to climb in and you both fall asleep in the babe’s hospital bed on a wednesday morning.

but then he misses media day, misses free practice day. everyone is worried. fred still doesn’t know why he’s not there. he just up and vanished and won’t answer his phone, even arthur isn’t there for f2 currently.

post procedure on a thursday evening, she looks a bit better. and cha besides with momma that they’re done with secret keeping. so he makes a littol post, about him and his littol family, all lying in the hospital bed together. and it shocks EVERYONE because he’s never mentioned it or anything like it, no one had a CLUE. but yeah littol baby girl is still admitted in the hospital come friday evening, but doing better, so he makes the v difficult decision to go race.

(side note: he gets pole and wins the race that week…for his girls)

momma and baby girl post a pic of them watching together in his merch 🥺 but while he’s away he’s having gifts delivered every DAY……but when he’s back from a triple header you’re all of a sudden so cranky and irritable. cha thinks maybe you need sleep, space, love, but nothing works. you’re just so irritable…give it 2 months and we find out cha will be having twin baby girls 🥺

mwah kisses 💓

Woah, I didn't want to add onto this because it was so perfect and you should try writing it yourself oh my god I would love to read this! This was just perfect, I didn't want to mess this up. My god, just shocked at this masterpiece

[luveline]

omg! i love asf fred <3

what about Ghost getting flirted with by like a random guy, but it’s all respectful and sweet (not like that douche ex she had) and she’s super confused and Fred is jealous but he’s more of like happy that someone’s appreciating her so that she can see??? i have no clue if that makes sense but ily :)

thank you for your request I love you! fem!reader, 1.2k

cw mental health issues

Fred has no shame about watching you closely when you go places, and especially at Angie’s parties. You’re starting to come out of your shell, little by little, and tonight you’ve been swept away by Kate and Lee Jordan to attempt a game of beer pong. You don’t look very confident, but you do look beautiful. 

“She’s having fun!” George says. “Shall I go steal her back before she realises you’re actually quite boring?” 

“Fuck off. And if I ever lose her, you do too.” 

“As if. Me and Ghost are best friends forever, Frederick. Not that you could understand our bond.” 

They lean against the countertop in the kitchen less than twenty feet from your game. You’re in one of those dresses you’d been too afraid to wear a year ago, the blue one that falls in soft petals at your knees and fans out when you move. He has the urge to collect you and kiss the length of your arm, fingers to shoulder, to your baby length sleeve. 

“Watch out,” George says, “It’s Parsons.” 

Kelly Parsons is a nice enough guy. Fred and George used to call him The Smiler, because he would smile at anyone who so much as glanced at him like they’d made his day. He’s smiling now saying hello to Kate, who then, thankfully, introduces him to you. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. You sound both tired and completely genuine. If Fred wasn’t in love with you already, your smile would have him falling. 

“I had to come and say hi to the prettiest girls in the room.” 

Fred blinks, his lips parting as George begins to laugh. 

“Don’t start,” Kate says. 

“I’m serious, you both look beautiful. Is there room for another player? I’m a professional at beer pong.” 

“We need another one!” Lee Jordan says. “You can be team Y/N.”  

You look just over his shoulder at Fred. Fred has enough sense to look somewhere else before your eyes can meet. The last thing he wants to be is the overprotective loser boyfriend. 

“How much can he flirt with her before it’s offensive?” he asks George eventually. 

“She doesn’t even look like she gets it,” George says. 

You’ve started to look like you’re begging to be saved, a strange smile on your face. Lee Jordan is sending Fred signals to move in and stake your relationship before Kelly gets any more bold, but Fred doesn’t want to. (Of course he wants to, he’d be quite happy to kick the legs out from under Parsons and sweep you into a princess carry). It’s nice seeing someone flirt with you, weirdly, because he knows that you think you aren’t that sort of girl. 

But it’s awful and he needs to put a stop to it. 

“You’ve got quite the arm on you,” Kelly says. “You have good coordination.” 

“Fred says that sometimes, but I think he says it just to be nice,” you say. 

Fred pumps his fist by his thigh. When he joins you at the table he’s calm and collected. “My ears are itching,” he says, “were you talking about me?” 

You nod softly, slipping into sidestep beside him. “Kelly, this is Fred. You’ve met, right? I bet so.” 

Fred has no qualms shaking Kelly’s hand. If his grip is a tad tighter than usual, it’s his business. 

“We’ve met,” Fred says with a smile. 

“Oh, good. Fred’s my boyfriend.” 

He thinks it’s a little sad that you sound unsure about it. He knows you know that things between you both are rock solid, or at least that he loves you more than anything, but you sound embarrassed to admit to it. You used to be embarrassed to talk —taking up space doesn’t come easy for you. Fred would never be offended at your tone. 

“Good to see you,” Kelly says. 

To his credit, he doesn’t miss a beat. Like Fred thought, he’s nice enough. 

Fred rubs your arm. He and Kelly share a look, both more casual than the situation calls for, like they’re trying too hard to pretend Kelly wasn’t just flirting with you. Or, Fred thinks so. 

“Are you winning?” Fred asks. 

You hold his gaze. “What do you think?” 

“You’ve won already,” he says. 

“I’ve had four shots,” you confess quietly. “I’m rubbish at this.” 

“What?” he asks. Four shots? He looks over at the table and the beer pong cups, finds they’re shot glasses and he’d guessed the wrong drink or the wrong game or both. Each shot glass is filled to the brim with spirit, and you and Kelly had clearly been about to lose. 

“That’s how the game works, right?” you ask. 

“They haven’t hit you yet, then,” he says. “Maybe you should sit down before they do.” 

“I’m trying to party.” 

“You’re doing a good job,” he says. He gives a sorry smile to your small band of gathered maybe-friends. “I’ll bring her back, I promise.” 

“Good! You better,” Kate says.  

Fred sits you down at the island and makes you a big glass of water to hopefully lessen the force of your quick drinking. “I know you don’t drink much, Ghost, but you must know four shots at once is a lot. And when Lee pours them they’re like doubles, sweetheart, you’re,” —you pull on his arm— “crazy. What?”  

“Kiss?” 

“You know he was flirting with you?” he asks, ducking down to kiss you as you’ve asked. He speaks against your lips. “Parsons? He was laying it on thick.” 

“Sort of. I didn’t notice at first. Sorry.” 

“No, no,” he says, stroking your cheek with his knuckles. “I’d flirt with you too. Not your fault.” 

“You do flirt with me.”

He kisses you again. You taste a bit sharp, but he couldn’t care less. “I do, don’t I?” 

Fred wraps his arms around you for an impromptu hug. His jealousy aside, there isn’t much else he could want from the world than for you to be as you are, happy, getting better, and expressing yourself in your lovely dresses. He presses his cheek to your cheek and tries not to remember how despondent you used to be. It’s on his mind a lot, he’s a worrier, but you hug him back with gusto tonight. “Freddie,” you say, rubbing his back with the tips of your fingers, “are you okay?” 

He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Mm, I’m great. Got my girl, haven’t I?” 

“Be serious,” you say. 

Fred hugs you tighter. “I am.” 

“Okay. I love you.” 

“You don’t have to sound so shy,” he says. “I love you too, lovely. More than anything.” 

“That’s very much too much for a public place.” 

“Oh, you’re teasing me?” he asks. 

You laugh into his neck, forcing your face down into the curve of it as you hug him back just as forcefully. Your hands feel a little lax compared to your hands. A moment later, you ask, “Is four shots gonna make me sick?” 

“We are going to have a very good night,” he promises. 

[kitheking]

toxic traits i think redacted characters have/used to have

david - gaslighting. he’s better now, but he was a professional. he would pull every trick in the book to make somebody feel like they were at fault for everything. the type of person to upset you, say “you’re overreacting” then deny the whole thing happened. angel fixed him.

asher - conflict avoidance. he hates fighting (especially in a relationship) so when things upset him, he addresses them in the most indirect way possible and ends up being passive aggressive. he usually apologizes tho.

milo - his toxic trait is that he doesn’t have any. (i actually couldn’t think of one for milo lmk if you have one) UPDATE: the only negative trait i can think of him having is that he can hold a grudge for the rest of his life if you let him (ty @frenchiefitzhere for this one) other than that he’s weirdly perfect?

lasko - dishonesty + conflict avoidance. like asher, he’s not big on conflict, but he often lies so people won’t get upset with him. ends up biting him in the ass tho.

damien - PETTY. omfg he can be the most childish person on earth. if you piss him off he’ll act out all of your pet peeves in the span of 3 minutes, disorganize things in your home, point out your insecurities, and he can and will go weeks without speaking to you.

huxley - toxic positivity. he isn’t always like this, but occasionally he’s the type of person to say “well, look on the bright side!” when you go to him to vent. sometimes he just makes people feel like their feelings aren’t valid.

gavin - we all know he’s arrogant. sometimes it’s just too much.

vincent - he’s overly competitive. he likes to be “the best” at everything and he’s a sore loser

aaron - he used to be judgmental and insanely critical. if he lets somebody do something for him, it’s never good enough. also the type of person to be like “um actually🤓” when you say literally anything.

sam - used to be super close minded and blames all the wrong people for things out of their control. if you saw fred and brights storyline you’d know

don’t even get me started on the listeners holy shit

[rainecreatesstuff]

no bc qTubbo hearing abt the fitpac date and immediately going through the first two stages of grief is. So sad like.

he loves his friends. Obviously wants them to be happy but. Is terrified and convinced that they will leave him behind bc he won’t be of any use to them anymore. And that they’ll hurt each other and then. There goes morning crew.

like. We already know that Tubbo feels like he needs to be useful to be loved. It comes free with ur fuckin Tubbo character. And that like he has abandonment issues and shit but like. The SPEED at which he just fell into shambles and was DETERMINED to break them up so they won’t forget about him.

and also like. With him talking about how love always ends in hurt and disappointment. Kid had such a devastating romantic experience with Fred that it just like altered his view on relationships. Like having that period of happy young love immediately fall into grief when he thought Fred was dead, and then immediately back into a bitter longing when Fred stopped talking with him…

like it makes sense but. He’s so terrified of them hurting each other the same way that in his mind it’s better for it to end now (possibly disastrously, depending on his methods) than for it to go on and they maybe hurt each other.

but like. He’s not taking into account that the love is already there. And like he KNOWS the love is already there, has seen the way Fit stumbles over his words when he teases him abt Pac, has seen Pac get all nervous and flirty around Fit. But he’s not including it in his calculations.

him breaking them up now is gonna hurt just as much as it would in a week, or a month, or three months. Because they already care about each other so much. And it’s not conditional. And if anything, it’s gonna hurt more because it’s their best friend who’s doing it. Not just them not working out, someone they both care about not wanting that happiness for them.

obviously Tubbo will fail. I don’t think there’s anything he could say or do to put them off with each other. I think he knows that to some degree too. I think he’s already mourning his friendships with them and isn’t ready to admit that. (Denial. Anger. You know the rest.)

And obviously he’s wrong. Tubbo means so much to both Fit and Pac. Helped keep them sane while their kids were missing, gave Fit someone to channel that parental care into, gave him a similar feeling to hanging out with Ramón, and Pac someone to talk to and hang out with and relax with when Mike and Richas couldn’t. He’s part of the family. He’s not going anywhere.

he just. Doesn’t get that yet.

[chayannesegg]

something else about fit and tubbo’s relationship: it’s very special to me and they do love each other very much, but i do think this current tension was almost bound to happen not matter what. even without the tubbo homophobia. yes, tubbo self-sabotaged and made the situation current happen. yes, fit is valid to be upset at tubbo. but the unequal footing tubbo was reacting to is VERY real and something they BOTH built and something I think ONLY tubbo is fully aware of. 

while i don’t think fit and tubbo’s relationship is paternal at all, i do think it is heavily informed by the age difference. when they meet, tubbo is young, inexperienced, and reminds fit of his son. in contrast, fit is a stable older presence who knows the island secrets. their early dynamic is a bit like a mentorship: fit checks in on tubbo, tubbo asks about the island, fit decides what to tell tubbo, tubbo sees how someone with experience handles the island. 

losing the eggs only strengthens this pattern. tubbo is a mess and relies a lot on fit (and pac) to help get him through. fit is hurting too, but obviously he is not going to share all his fears with a teenager having a breakdown (that’s not how he operates, not when he can channel his emotions into something productive instead like checking on tubbo, pac, and the island). tubbo meanwhile strives to have walls as strong as fit's, but even if he won’t talk about it directly, his emotions bleed through a lot of the time anyway. so fit continues to check in on tubbo, and tubbo continues to let fit in and they grow closer because of it. we have lots of sweet moments in their friendship of tubbo letting fit see his vulnerabilities (about the eggs, with fred, about his day to day concerns) but we don’t see a lot of fit sharing his vulnerabilities. early on, fit makes it very clear to tubbo that tubbo has not earned the right to his secrets, and what he knows about the island, and what he does. fit visits tubbo and then leaves to go on secret jobs tubbo knows nothing about and can’t follow him to. tubbo doesn’t know anything about fit’s memories, or his resistance work, or his purpose. this was an initial source of tension between them, and while tubbo eventually decided to trust fit anyway, to this day, tubbo must be aware that he still hasn’t earned fit's full trust. and that fit, for all he knows tubbo’s problems, hasn’t shared many in return. the only exceptions to this that I can think of are 1) fit’s feelings for pac, which tubbo is privy to and while he teases fit, he is supportive of (which tubbo lost access to—at least in his head—when fitpac started dating, hence the acting out) and 2) fit coming to tubbo about the cats (which tubbo does NOT recognise as a moment of intimacy, that baffoon just laughs it off). i’m not blaming fit for this, as much as he loves tubbo, tubbo is an emotionally unstable teenager (turned young adult) whose bad at both secret-keeping and tact (and fit holds some very sensitive very dangerous secrets), but it definitely creates a lopsidedness in their friendship. 

especially because tubbo DOES respect this boundary of fit’s. while sometimes he pesters him for access to the office or insider info, he doesn’t seek fit’s personal business out behind his back really. meanwhile, the few times that tubbo has tried to keep something from them (kinda attempting to mirror fit’s own walls imo), fit and pac have gone behind his back to find out what it is. for example, them going to quackity’s house to investigate fred’s kidnapping without telling him, or them going and reading tubbo’s investigation room about the fed worker killings. now, i get why pac and fit—nosy and concerned as they are—do this, but it’s not great communication and it’s not a great show of trust.

all of this results in fit having a LOT of insight and access into tubbo’s life and insecurities and tubbo having comparatively little in return. and fit deciding how and when he interacts with tubbo and tubbo relying on fit to engage (lest he interrupt something secretive). they have all this restrictions and intricacies for how they interact and both of them have fed into this dynamic—it’s familiar and easy for both of them (fit isn't risking his secrets by trusting tubbo more, tubbo isn't risking rejection by asking for more)—even though their friendship has progressed and needs more balance. it worked ok for them for awhile bc they do both care for each other a lot, but it was NEVER going to be sustainable. any shift in dynamic that lengthened the distance between them would have unsteadied it.

but while tubbo is acutely aware of this tension and sensitive to it changing (and lashing out in response), fit has never really had to think about it. given the way they’ve interacted, fit’s own feelings have always been a bit separate from their friendship. it’s only now that tubbo's emotions/actions have hurt fit that fit wants his feelings acknowledged. he wants a more even dynamic, but he doesn’t realize that their friendship doesn’t feel like a “two-way street” because it never has been, almost by design. 

i don’t think tubbo has the experience or insight into fit’s emotions to realize what fit needs organically. i don't think fit can understand how his relationship with pac isolated tubbo even if he wants it to stay the same. i don’t think fit recognises the ways tubbo continues to show his trust in fit (like still inviting fit to follow him on the fred date or not investigating his secrets). i don't think tubbo understands why fit is upset with him (just that he is) or confidence to ask.

i don’t think either of them are going to properly explain their concerns to each other, if they have the words to properly explain it. all of this makes me think we’re only in for more fit & tubbo miscommunication in the coming weeks, but i DO think we still have hope. because these fools do love each other and pac (who I didn’t talk about much at all) & ramon & sunny (tho she’s also hurting) aren’t just gonna stand idly by while they continue to hurt each other.

[suugarbabe]

Forget Me Not (2)

[Chapter 2]

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: none; fluff

“W-who are you guys?” 

Fred’s words echoed in your head like a gut-wrenching scream. You turned to George, not wanting to believe the situation unfolding in front of you, “He’s kidding right? Just one of those things you guys do? Georgie, tell me he’s kidding.” George’s face was full of sympathy, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I don’t think so, duck. It’s probably only temporary, you saw the gash on his head.” You nodded, trying to calm yourself down. George was able to convince you to go grab Fred some water as Molly and Arthur continued to look after him. You were filling a cup for him, when Ron and Hermione came up to you. “How’s he doing,” Hermione’s tone was careful, her eyes full of sorrow for you. “He’s alive at least but…” you trailed off, making Ron’s already worried face grow more pained, “W-what is it, y/n?” You were holding back tears again, stumbling over your words, “H-he…he doesn’t remember anything. He a-asked who we were, like he didn’t even recognize any of us, I just…I don’t know what to do or how to help him.” Hermione pulled your into her and you wrapped your arms around the girl, nearly sobbing now. Ron held on to both of you, trying to be encouraging, “He’ll remember, it might just take some time, you’ve been through too much for him to forget it all. You’ll see.” 

You had wanted Ron’s words to be comforting, but the next two weeks proved to be anything but. The entire Weasley family, Hermione, Harry and yourself  had all been staying at the burrow. Fred had been in and out of consciousness dealing with the rest of his injuries. You were by his side for a few hours each night, but it always seemed like he woke for a short period when you were either out of the house or someone else was looking after him. George was the first person Fred remembered, unsurprisingly. It happened randomly about the second or third night home. Fred had woken up from the couch, hearing commotion in the kitchen. You and George were making breakfast that day, giving Molly a break as she’d been nothing but stressed since the end of the war. You were setting the table when Fred walked into the kitchen, clapping a large hand on his twin’s shoulder, “Morning, Georgie.” George responded on instinct at first, “Morning Freddi-, wait, what did you just say?” Fred looked at his twin like he had gone nuts, “I said good morning, what’s wrong with you?” Hearing this interaction you rushed into the kitchen, hoping that a miracle had happened and Fred remembered everyone again, but when he saw you, there was no recognition. Instead, he elbowed George in the side, “Who’s the bird, Georgie? Didn’t know you could get a girl as gorgeous as her to fall for you.” He threw you a playful wink, and your heart soared slightly at his ability to unknowingly reassure he was still attracted to you, despite not realizing who you were. 

George gave you sorrowful eyes, but you just threw on your best smile, extending your hand out to Fred, “I’m, Y/n. While I appreciate the compliment, George and I are just friends.” He took your hand, kissing the top of it, “Well he is certainly a fool.” Your cheeks blushed immediately. George watched this interaction, smirk growing before remembering that Fred actually remembered who he was, “Freddie, you know who I am?” Fred looked at him like he had three heads, “Of course I know who my own twin is, ya git.” Fred laughed, shaking his head, but George grabbed him by the shoulders, “Freddie, my boy, what’s the last thing you remember?” 

“Fred’s remembering things?” Ron was practically running down the stairs, but shouting as he went, “YOU GUYS FRED IS REMEMBERING THINGS!” There was suddenly a stampede of red hair, now all gathering in the kitchen, however it was evident George was the luckiest member of the family because when Fred saw the group of Weasley’s surrounding him his first response was, “Georgie, there a ginger convention in town?” 

Within the next two weeks Fred had slowly began remembering each member of his family. Molly and Arthur were next, then Ron and Ginny, followed by Bill and Charlie. He remembered Percy last, or at least that’s what he said, no one could know for sure if it was the truth, or if he had remembered Percy earlier and just said he still didn’t remember to make him angry.

One afternoon, George had found you out in the back garden, watching the gnomes run around and fight each other. He sat down next to you, not saying anything but sharing his presence. After a moment, you spoke up, “I don’t think he’s ever going to remember me, Georgie... I love him so much, I guess he just didn’t feel the same.” George wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer so your head was leaning on him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, “I really thought I was important enough to not forget, at least not forever.” You felt George shake his head, “I don’t think that’s it, duck. He definitely feels something for you, he talks about you just about every bloody night. It’s like when he first started falling for you. I’m hearing basically all the same bullocks he was spouting before you two got together.” 

This made you feel a little better, that even though Fred couldn’t necessarily remember your relationship for the past year, he was falling for you all over again. If that’s what you had to do, then you would do it. You would pursue him again, make him fall in love with you again. You couldn’t lose him, not after everything that you’ve been through. Not after everything that’s happened. 

“Why don’t you just tell him that you’re his girlfriend, duck? He’d be over the fucking moon to know he’s actually scored you before. Might even bring back all the memories of you to begin with.” You shook your head at George, wiping away your tears, “No, I can't do that. As much as it hurts I don’t want him to feel like he’s obligated to me if he doesn’t start remembering. That he has to be a certain way with me because that’s how it was before. I mean, I’m glad it seems like he has at least some sort of crush on me. Gives me hope, yanno? But, he’s gotta remember without being pushed.” George nodded in understanding. 

So, you stood up from the garden bench, giving George one more hug and headed back towards the burrow. To your delight, Fred was sitting at the table, making himself a sandwich for lunch. He looked up when he heard someone enter, a smile breaking on his face when he saw it was you. His smile was one of the first things you fell in love with. It was hard not to, all the pranks and jokes he was pulling he was smiling nearly all the time. “Hey, y/n, was just making myself some lunch, want me to make you one too?” You nodded, sitting down across from him, “Sounds great, Freddie. Whatcha makin?” 

His smile grew wider, if possible, “Marshmallow fluff, bananas and Nutella. You have to try it, it’s absolutely delicious. I cannot for the life of me remember who told me about these but I’ve been craving one all morning and had to make it.” You laughed to yourself. You had introduced Fred and George to these sandwiches the summer of second year, they said they were craving something sweet but Molly said you couldn't have only sweets for lunch. Thus, you provided the alternative to the twins. It became your regular munchies snack. Fred happily made you your own, observing you as you took your first bite. 

“So, darling, what do you think?” Fred was watching you eagerly, analyzing your facial expressions. You hummed as you chewed, “So good.” You ate together in content silence. Every so often you would steal a glance at Fred, just to find him already looking at you. It reminded you of fifth year, when you first recognized you had a crush on him. You’d be sitting together at meals in the great hall. George and Dean drowning on about a prank they were planning and you’d glance at Fred, just to look at him. But he’d be looking at you already, freckled cheeks flushing and eyes darting away as soon as they locked with yours. But it was different today, he didn’t shy away when you caught him looking, he just kept staring, not ashamed. Your heart ached at how much you missed him. 

“So do you feel like everything’s pretty much back to normal for you? Memory wise I mean,” you were gathering up your plate, grabbing his as well to put in the sink. He shook his head, “Sort of? But not entirely.” This made you a little hopeful, “What do you mean?” He shrugged, standing up from the table and heading to the couch, “Dunno it's like…I have all these memories of different things, some are so vivid and clear like I never forgot anything in the first place. But then others…it’s like…” he turned to you, both sitting on the couch now, “I have this very specific dream that I keep having, it feels like a memory but parts of it are kind of…fuzzy, if that makes sense.” 

You placed a hand on his leg closest to you, it was instinct when you were comforting him, but you didn’t miss how his eyes darted down quickly and his cheeks flushed. You kept your hand there, encouraging him to continue, “How do you mean? Like you think it’s not a memory?” He shook his head, hands flying through the air as he spoke now, “No, no, it’s like I can feel it in my soul that it happened, but for whatever reason the person with me, I just can’t see them. Like, okay. So in this dream we’re at Hogwarts right? And we’re going through Snape's closet looking for the right ingredients to make these amazing fireworks because we’re going to blow them up during Ron’s owls. And I vividly remember pulling that stunt with George, the look on Umbridge’s face. Priceless. But whoever was with me that night, I just can’t see them.” 

His face fell, and your heart started to ache for him. You knew it was you he couldn’t remember. You remember breaking into Snape’s closet, filling your school bags with different ingredients, feeling the rush of adrenaline when you heard Mrs. Norris down the corridor and Fred lacing his fingers with yours and he rushed you both down the hall and into a nearby classroom until he saw on the map that the coast was clear. “I know they were important to me,” Fred continued, “but, Merlin, every time I think about it, try harder to remember them I get this bloody headache and my chest hurts.” He was bent over now, elbows on his knees and head in his hands now. 

You leaned closer to him, lightly scratching up and down his back. You’ve done it a million times to soothe him and it seemed to be having the same effect. His shoulders relaxed, breathing evening out. “This is gonna sound like a weird request, and if I’m overstepping boundaries you can tell me no,” Fred looked over at you, and you knew whatever request he had you were going to say yes. “Anything, Fred, what is it?” He took a deep breath, seemingly nervous about how you’d react, “I just, do you think you could hold me? Not like in a weird way! Just, could we lay down and I lay on you and you…keep scratching my back? I’ve just been so stressed and it’s one of the first things to really made me feel relaxed.” 

You felt yourself melting at his request. You laid back on the couch, head resting on the armrest. You opened your arms, beckoning him to you. He crawled over to you, resting his upper half on top of you. The weight of him felt like home, a comfort you’ve been neglected of for the last two and a half weeks. He hasn’t been by any type of smoke or fireworks since before the day of the war but he still smelled like firework smoke and cinnamon. You had to resist deeply inhaling him. Like muscle memory his hands found solace around your waist. You ran your nails up and down his back, applying light pressure in the spots you know he loves. You threaded the fingers of your other hand in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. You felt him hum against your neck, “Feels s’good. Very relaxing.” You smiled to yourself, happy to have him so close to you again. You felt his arms tighten around you ever-so-slightly, “M’sorry I don’t remember you, y/n.” You hands stilled as he kept talking, “I know you’re someone important to me. I can feel it, feel it all over. I wrack my brain every day for some sort of memory with you in it and I just can’t make them come.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, squeezing him hard against you now, “It’s okay, Freddie.” You kissed the top of his head, “We’ll make new memories.”

Taglist:

@words-are-cheap @l0ulistens @reallysparklychaos

AN: dunno how long this series is gonna be but it's gonna be kind of a slowburn regardless. also if your name is bold i tried to tag you and it didn't work. sozz :(

[georgie-weasley]

I dont know if you're up for it, but I am reading COS again and I am so frustrated by Lockheart! I was wondering if you could do one where y/n asks George (and Fred) to prank him.

Thanks in advance! Have a nice day! X

This was so fun to write! Thank you for requesting it!

Lilac G.W. x GN!Reader

Warnings: one swear word, reader almost vomits because of Lockhart (not graphic and hardly mentioned and they don't actually throw up)

Word Count: 2.5k

Paring: George Weasley x GN!Reader (they are already in a relationship)

Summary: Lockhart is pissing you off so you and the Weasley twins decide to mess with him

Masterlist Taglist

As soon as the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom opened, the room let out a collective dreamy sigh. In the back of the classroom however, you and the Weasley twins couldn’t help groaning and rolling your eyes. Was he hot? Yeah, he most certainly was. Was he a complete fool that probably didn’t know his left hand from his left foot? Also, yes. It seemed like just about everyone that was attracted to men found his face perfect. You thought he was perfectly punchable.

Lockhart busied himself passing out essays, spending only a few seconds to congratulate some of the students on their fantastic work. However, when he came to the back of the room with yours and the twins' essays, he frowned. “Really I’m quite disappointed in you three. Honestly it’s like you didn’t even bother to read Voyages with Vampires. My book had all the information you needed to write the essay. It’s a shame just how poorly this will affect your grades. After all, you failed your tests on my autobiography.”

He set the essays on your table and went back to the front of the class, giving a dramatic reenactment of a scene from his book. You grabbed your essay and frowned as you saw the bright purple ‘D’ for dreadful. That grade was completely undeserved; you had spent weeks in the library researching vampires to make sure your essay had all the correct information. Apparently you didn’t need to be correct, you just needed to agree with whatever Lockhart said.

Looking to your left and right, you saw Fred and George had matching grades. They had been in the library with you most of the time. They deserved a better grade as well.

“Are we sure he’s qualified to teach?” You mumbled, shoving your essay in your bag.

George and Fred snorted. “Not at all,” they said at the same time.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. “If I had wanted to learn nonsense I would have asked the Giant Squid to teach me about vampires, though I’m sure she’s probably smarter than Lockhart is.”

George took your hand in his, entangling your fingers. “Maybe by the end of the year Dumbledore will realize he hired a buffoon and none of these grades will count.”

You smiled a little at his attempt to comfort you, thankful he cared so much. George had been your boyfriend for the past couple of months and he was the best. He was always trying to help and constantly trying to find a way to touch you such as holding your hand in class. “I appreciate your attempts to make this better George. Maybe you’re right but it doesn’t solve anything right now. He’s just so smug, acting like he’s a gift to the wizarding world when he’s just a scumbag. I want to do something now.”

Fred looked at you with a wild smirk. “Am I hearing this incorrectly or does our lovely Y/N here want to mess with Lockhart?”

George looked down at you, mischief in his eyes. Would messing with Lockhart make up for all the terrible grades he had given you? No, but it would bring you some much needed joy. “Let’s do it. I want to make a grown man cry.”

---

During lunch, you and George met up in the transfiguration classroom. “Alright we need to be fast. We just need 20 minutes to make the potion and then it can sit in the vial until later.” You said as you set up the small potion making kit on one of the desks. McGonagall wouldn’t be gone for too long and you needed enough time to pack up the miniature cauldron as well.

George nodded, kissed your cheek, and started grabbing ingredients out of your bag. “I’ll start crushing the beetles and you can start preparing the flobberworm mucus.”

Taking the thick liquid, you dumped it in the cauldron. With a quick spell, you lit the fire beneath the cauldron and watched it start to bubble. George leaned over to check on the potion and deeming it ready, he added the beetles and began stirring the potion clockwise.

You and George worked perfectly together for the next ten minutes, adding different ingredients until you only had one left. With a wild smirk, George grabbed the lilacs and began grinding them until they started to form a paste. “I can’t wait to see his face once he sees what we’ve done to him.”

Before you could answer, the classroom door opened and McGonagall scowled at you both. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

George glanced at you before looking at the almost complete potion. “Professor, we were just trying to make a potion.”

“And what is the reason for the potion, pray tell?” She said with an exasperated sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We want to screw with Professor Lockhart. He needs to be knocked down a peg and we can do it with the potion.” As soon as you spoke, George looked at you with wide eyes. This could easily be the worst idea you ever had but judging by the way the other teachers looked at Lockhart behind his back (and to his face occasionally), they had to dislike him as much as you did.

She walked over to you and looked at the potion over your shoulder. She narrowed her eyes, clearly judging the ugly brown color it was and the smell rolling off of it. “And you’re finished?”

You shook your head and gestured to the lilac paste in George’s hands. “We just have one last ingredient to add. Please, let us finish and then you can take as many house points as you want.”

“Well,” George mumbled. “Maybe not as many as you want. You still want Gryffindor to win the house cup right?”

The corner of McGonagall’s mouth twitched upward, a smile threatening to break through her stoic expression. “Ten points from each of you for misuse of my classroom. I’ll give you each five back if this potion is as successful as you claim it will be.”

She turned on her heel and walked back toward the door. “Make sure you clean up after yourselves or you’ll lose another ten points. The potion smells horrid.” She spoke over her shoulder before she closed the door behind her.

George looked at you, his mouth hanging open in shock. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“I can.” You laughed, taking the lilacs from George. “McGonagall has always been cool.”

---

That evening before dinner, the three of you were huddled in a small alcove by Lockhart’s bedroom. Students were strictly forbidden from entering the area of the castle dedicated to bedrooms for the staff but of course that wasn’t going to stop the Weasley twins. “So here’s the plan,” you whispered as you held the Marauder’s Map in front of you. Luckily the boys had found this in first year as it was extremely handy. “Lockhart should be coming out soon to go to dinner. When he comes out, I’ll distract him and keep him busy talking as we walk to the Great Hall. Fred,” you turned to the boy on your right, “you stand watch and keep checking the map. If anyone is coming, you give George the signal.”

Fred paled. “Right, the signal.”

“Have you discussed what that was going to be?”

Fred rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I was thinking I could oink like a pig.”

A moment of silence passed before George spoke. “You idiot. There are no pigs in Hogwarts. You think someone will think it’s normal?”

Fred sighed and looked at his feet in shame. “It was my first idea alright.” He shoved his brother who started to laugh. “Shut up George. I’ll think of a signal alright. Please move on Y/N.”

With less confidence than you had before, you moved on to George. “Fine. George, while you’re in there you’re gonna use the potion and put it in Lockhart’s shampoo. Then get out of there. Don’t hang around because I don’t know how long I can listen to Lockhart talk about himself.”

George nodded and lightly punched your shoulder. “We got this. In and out and if all goes well, tomorrow Lockhart will cry.”

Leaving the twins, you waited for the blonde professor in the hallway. It wasn’t too long before he appeared. “Professor Lockhart! Could I ask you a question please?” You ran over to him, walking in step with him.

“Why of course…” He looked at you, eyebrows furrowing.

“Y/N.” You reminded him of your name, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yes, of course Y/N. Just testing to make sure my starpower didn’t make you forget your name.” He flashed you a fabulous smile.

Ignoring the bile rising in your throat, you smiled. “I was reading Voyages with Vampires after my poor grade I received and I must say, I am in awe of your abilities.” Lockhart smiled, absolutely beaming at your praise. “What else have you done? I’m sure there’s more you haven’t written about.”

“It’s true. If I wrote every single one of my accomplishments I would have hundreds of books. Let me tell you about the time I saved a town from a dragon.”

Back in the teacher wing, George was in Lockhart’s bathroom. Luckily for everyone, Lockhart was so obsessed with himself, his room was covered in pictures of himself so there was no denying this was his room. The pictures of Lockhart looked at George, absolutely gobsmacked to see him there. George quickly slipped into the bathroom before the paintings and pictures could look at him closely enough to remember what he looked like. He did not need a painting telling Lockhart it was him who was in there.

As soon as he entered the bathroom the overwhelming smell of lilac punched him in the face. The man was not only obsessed with himself but with lilacs as well. He loved the color and it made George chuckle to himself as he looked at the potion in his hand. After sitting for most of the afternoon, the color changed from brown to lilac and it had the smell to match. Lockhart would never know it didn’t belong here.

He added the potion to the shampoo bottle and gave it a good shake, mixing the two liquids. As he was setting the bottle back down, he heard oinking from the hallway. “Ah shit.” He groaned and dashed out of Lockhart’s room, crashing into Fred in the hallway. The twins landed in a pile on the floor, George trapped under his brother. At the end of the hall you were following Lockhart, almost begging him to keep talking about himself but he insisted he had to leave since he forgot something in his room.

George pushed Fred off of him and they ran the opposite way, putting as much distance between them and the room as possible. Seeing the boys leave, you gave up on Lockhart, letting him leave.

When you caught up with the boys during dinner, George assured you that everything was fine and he added the potion just in time. Hearing his confidence, you relaxed a little and the three of you agreed to sneak back to the teacher's wing first thing in the morning.

---

Before the sun had even risen, the three of you sat on the floor in the hallway, watching the map. It was a little creepy to stare at Lockhart’s dot on the map as much as you were but you didn’t want to miss anything. The dot started to move and you and the twins perked up, watching as it moved to the bathroom.

An hour later, a scream came from the direction of Lockhart’s room. Teacher’s quickly emerged from their rooms, searching for the source of the scream. McGonagall came out of her room, her hair down and looking like she just woke up. She quickly spotted you and the twins and raised an eyebrow. You waved a little and turned your attention back to the door, watching as the doorknob turned and out stepped Lockhart, his blonde hair now a delightful lilac color. His hair perfectly matched his lilac robes.

McGonagall covered her mouth, stifling her laughter as Lockhart looked around wildly for the culprit. His gaze landed on the three of you and he scowled, stomping over to you, yelling with tears in his eyes as he did. “What have you done to me? You ruined my hair! You are going to fix this right now you horrid little gremlins!”

“Gilderoy, that is no way to speak to students.” McGonagall stood next to you, glaring at Lockhart. “Especially when you don’t know if they were the ones that did this.”

“My paintings said a redheaded boy came into my room last night! Here we have two redheaded boys at the scene of the crime!”

McGonagall sighed, glancing at George out of the corner of her eye. “Gilderoy, are you aware just how many Weasleys there are? Let alone how many ginger students we have? It is impossible to assume either of these young boys were in your room last night.”

Lockhart crossed his arms over his chest, pouting like a child. “And you can prove they weren’t here last night? You can guarantee they weren’t out here waiting to see the result of their attack on me?”

McGonagall nodded, no longer hiding her smile. “In fact, they were serving detention with me last night and I requested they all meet me here this morning to discuss the rest of their detention. I’m sure Y/N was just dropping them off.” Lockhart opened his mouth to argue more but he was quickly cut off. “I suggest you visit Severus before breakfast, Gilderoy. He would be your best bet at removing this effect on your hair.”

She led the three of you away and down the hall, leaving a flustered and lilac Lockhart standing alone. In the other hallway, McGonagall shook her head, still smiling. “Fantastic job you three. Next time, don’t let the paintings catch you or wait directly outside of the crime scene.”

“Next time?” You all asked at the same time.

“Yes, because I am certain this will not be the last time something like this happens. After all, we are only in November and Lockhart will be here until June. Five points for each of you for bringing me more joy than I’ve had in a long time.” McGonagall gave you all one last smile and headed back to her room.

“I can’t believe how well this worked out.” Fred chuckled. “I’d better go tell Ron to lay low so Lockhart doesn’t try to pin this on him.”

Fred left, leaving you and George alone in the hallway. He turned and smiled, throwing an arm around you and tugging you into his side. “Feel better?”

“Oh yeah. Seeing Lockhart seconds from crying over his hair will bring me happiness for the rest of my life.”

“How long until the potion wears off?”

“By my calculations… three days.” You smirked, causing George to laugh.

“Merlin, I love you.” He smiled and gave you a kiss but was interrupted by his stomach grumbling. “I suppose we should get some breakfast.”

You took his hand in yours and started walking to the Great Hall. “Yes, we don’t want to miss Lockhart’s grand reveal.”

Taglist

@100gaysnails @george-weasleys-girl @weasleybuns @s1aaaaayyyyyyyt @asuperconfusedgirl @jsjcue @daisydark @creepybloodykitty2 @themarauderswife7 @mintyme101 @niktwazny303 @lovesanimals0000

[lestappenforever]

A bit if a rant, but bear with me, I’ve been in this brain rot since seeing RBR’s threads and i just wanna get it out. (Yes i am the same person who hopes that Christian and RBR are so cold in DTS and this is the reason why i believe that there might actually be something going on, slowly brewing and simmering in low heat till it fucking explodes in *hopefully* Ferrari’s face) (if you couldn’t guess, I’m an RBR girl through and through)

Now lets start it from after Singapore, it was the very first time RBR posted Charles and Max, and let’s all be real for a moment, I personally don’t think that there was much to it, I mean, they’ve posted Lando, Fernando, Esteban, Pierre, etc. Its not that weird that they did that. That same weekend, Ferrari fucked up Charles and prioritized Carlos, despite the fact that both had a chance at a podium, but Ferrari (as Geogre said in that heartbreaking radio for any Charles fan) sacrificed Charles for Carlos. And then Fred saying that Charles agreed?! Let’s all just look back at something very slight, Charles is a petty king, he wants to win, he’s hungry, doesn’t want to be second, EVERYTHING that he’s done since karting proves that, but what Ferrari and Fred said that weekend didn’t make much sense. Yes, this weekend was not detrimental for the whole Charles to Red Bull agenda, but it might have been the start to it all.

Fast forward to the triple header, as Japan and Qatar didn’t have much, of course other than padel, but in terms if teams, controversies and fuck ups from Ferrari, there weren’t much.

Austin was the start to it all, the way RBR posted Lestappen VERY CLEARLY on their socials, shows that there’s something brewing, but not by much, its just, yeah 2 generational talents who have fought each other forever in their racing careers, doung it again, etc. But that wasn’t the only case. Red Bull have posted them both together, but so did Christian, and Horner ain’t one to be taken lightly. Everything this man does is fucking calculated, he’s chaotic, but in a way that I don’t think anyone can be, he knows how to play, and play he does. After the USGP with Ferrari’s most famous fuck ups of the floor infringement and putting Charles ONLY on a one stop, where the weather was EXTREMELY HOT on track, and all that with the lame excuse of “oh he’s better at tyre management” despite being on pole, shows something, Ferrari is NOT being a seriou team with Charles, because they then went ahead and were celebrating Carlos’ podium as if their other driver didn’t get disqualified.

On to Mexico, (aka the epitome of my delulus that RB are doing something in DTS in regards to Charles) we have the crazy pole that Charles pulled, as well as his data and onboards being shown along Max and Checo, there were no other drivers who were on that pit wall. We also have the part prior to the GP, where we all saw Christian and Charles arriving at the paddock at suspiciously close (you could say almost together if you didn’t know any better) then waiting for him, by the entrance of the paddock, where he knows Netflix are there and the fans are there, for a seemingly innocent hello (NOT), as well as Christian defending Charles, who had an accident with HIS DRIVER AT HIS HOME GP. You don’t see that, in a normal situation, Charles would be blamed for Checo’s DNF by Checo’s TP.

Onto Brazil, the final major fuck up by Ferrari, which cost a hungry Charles a battle with Max, and a chance at a win, simply because Ferrari decided againts changing the engine, which then fucks up the hydraulics, causing Charles a DNS. In addition to, again, Only his data is along side the RB boys. During this weekend, you could feel the shift in Charles, like he couldn’t take it anymore, he’s done being the scapegoat, the rag that Ferrari could do anything they want as he’s their Il Predesinato, he’s HUNGRY, he wants to win, and Ferrari simply for the last 5 years were unable to provide him with what he wants.

That’s how it was in Vegas and Abu Dhabi, Charles fought, he fought hard, and you might even feel like he’s hell-bent on getting these podiums, to show Ferrari how much they fuck him up during races, and what he’s capable of when they don’t.

All of that while both RBR and the official F1 accounts are pushing the Lestappen agneda, posts, Max’s statements that are kind of throwing shade at Ferrari, mentioning that he would mind anyone (while blatantly pointing at Charles) to be his teammate if checo were to leave by the end of the 2024 season, the RBR garage and team being friendly with Charles a bit too often. And then the most recent posts of putting Charles on the RBR Christmas tree, while Yuki, who is closely more related to RBR isn’t, and the most recent thread of “claiming” Charles,

RBR, Horner and even Marko are not stupid, they know how to stir a pot, how to cause chaos and drama, how to be cold, how to be that young team that could seem innocent, approachable, intriguing, in order to get what they want, how they want it and When they want it. And the fact that we know nothing of the new season of DTS, Ferrari just posting shit trying to distract from the fact that they haven’t announced Charles renewing, and they way the talk has died down about it, in addition to trying to distract from the RBR Lestappen saga on all socials that is happening rn, shows that there could be something, something thing, detrimental, vold as fuck and chaotic as fuck. Another thing that I have forgotten to mention is the whole Twitter saga that happened because of Will Buxton and Albert Fabrega around the time of the Triple header shows that there is Chaos that’s going to be unleashed, could be in DTS. And what’s Chaos with the Agents of Chaos?

(I’m extremely sorry for how fucking long this is, i just let my mind do the talking and didn’t realise how long i wrote until i was done 🤪)

I'm not even going to add anything to this, my lovely anon, because this ask deserves to shine on its own.

I love your beautiful mind, anon. Please come share your brainrots with me at any time. ❤️

[fanfic-wonderland]

This Is War {Fred Weasley} - Part 2

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After avoiding Fred for so long, (Y/N) finally has to face him again when they're paired up for a Potions assignment.

Word count: 7.8k

Read part one here.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you still not going to talk to him?” Daphne asks me during lunch, the same way she has asked me every day for the past few weeks.

Ever since I told her about my little… moment with Fred, she hasn’t stopped talking about it one way or another, even when I’ve asked her plenty of times not to. She seems to have become obsessed with the idea of him and I getting together because, according to her, we’d make “an oddly cute” couple, and also “because there is nothing interesting happening in my life and I want to live through you”. I don’t know what’s gone wrong with her head; I have made it extremely clear that the kiss meant nothing to me, that it was just something that happened in the heat of the moment when I was dampened and terrified and he was the only one there giving me the slightest bit of comfort. Either she still doesn’t get that, or she just doesn’t want to. “For the last time, Daphne Greengrass,” I say through gritted teeth. “No. And It’s the last time I’ll say it.”

Daphne whines like a toddler. “But why? It’s clear that he wants to talk to you!”

The kiss happened nearly two weeks ago. After I fled the scene, Fred made numerous attempts to approach me, but I would always find a way to cut the conversation short or avoid it at all costs. He seemed to finally get the hint because It’s been a few days since his last attempt. The only one who hasn’t gotten the hint yet is the girl sitting across from me. “He has his own life to worry about. I’m pretty sure he dropped it already, and so should you.”

She pouts as I stab a piece of pork chop and chew on it. “How are you so sure if you haven’t even talked to him about it yet? Maybe he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable and he’s just waiting for you to reach out to him.”

“Forget it, Daphne, there’s nothing to talk about,” I state firmly. “I made a stupid little mistake, that’s all. It’s not like I’m going to go ahead and do it again.”

“I bet you want to, though,” she mutters as she drinks from her cup. 

Her voice is low, and she thinks she’s sneaky, but I hear her. I refrain from saying anything else about it, though. It’s no use trying to convince her otherwise.

Fortunately, Daphne does not bring him up for the remainder of our lunch, nor does she bring him up while we learn how to turn vinegar into wine during Charms, or when we’re fighting not to fall asleep during History of Magic. I begin to think that maybe she’s finally gotten the hint until we arrive at the Potions classroom.

Professor Snape places a small bubbling cauldron on top of his desk as we all walk in—Gryffindors on one side of the room and Slytherins on the other. Through the corner of my eye, I spot the unmistakable pair of redheaded twins, sitting two tables to my right, and I fight the urge to turn and see if one of them is looking. “Settle down, all of you,” Professor Snape says in his usual dull voice. “Today, aside from your usual class, you will be placed in pairs for a special project. You will have to work with another student and brew the most powerful Truth Serum to ever exist—the Veritaserum. While it is very easy to sneak it into someone’s pumpkin juice, the brewing process is long and complex. That is why you’ll be working with a partner to make this potion. The longer its effect, the higher your grade.”

A Gryffindor boy raises an arm and Snape turns to him with a sneer. “Does that mean we have to work on it through Spring break?”

“Unless you want to fail, then yes, you should start on the first day of Spring break.”

Nearly every student in the classroom, including Daphne and I, groans in protest. Snape’s lips curl up into a nasty smirk. “That’s quite enough, I do not need to hear your whining. Get it done, or else you fail my class.”

As students begin to look around for their desired partners, I link my arm with Daphne’s. “It shouldn’t be too hard once we combine our geniuses.”

Daphne laughs and agrees. Professor Snape’s eyes fall on us for a quick second before he adds, “I forgot to mention that this is not a friendship project. This time, I’ll be assigning the pairings.”

The class groans even louder than the first time. “Enough,” Snape holds a hand up and we quiet down. “Perhaps when you learn to behave in my class I’ll give you the privilege of choosing your partner, but right now you'll work with what I give you. Now…”

Snape taps the cauldron with the tip of his wand twice and two small pieces of paper fly out of the cauldron. He catches them mid-air and begins to read aloud. “Johnson, Angelina and Warrington, Cassius.”

And then he does the same thing with the rest of the students. Daphne and I frown at each other once we hear her name being called alongside Alicia Spinnet but I guess it was expected that we’d be separated for this assignment from the beginning. The problem is, I realize as I scan the room, that there’s no one else I’d like to work with, and the people who would be fairly tolerable are already paired up with someone else. This assignment is looking to be the worst of the year so far. 

“Weasley, Fred and (Y/L/N), (Y/N).”

The absolute worst.

Daphne gasps quietly once she hears the names, her eyes on the brink of popping out. “Did he just…”

“Uh-huh,” I can’t construct a proper reaction. It feels like someone has just slapped me.

I make the mistake of looking over at Fred only to find that he’s already staring at me. He shrugs innocently but he’s clearly trying to hold back a smile while George is dying from laughter behind him. I glare at them and turn away. It can’t be a coincidence that we ended up working together. I refuse to believe that life is this cruel. “I don’t get it,” I protest as we walk out of the classroom. “How in the bloody hell do I get paired up with the person I wanted to avoid the most?”

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Daphne suggests, like there actually is a bright side. “At least you’re not working with Crabbe or Goyle.”

“You know, I think at this point I’d rather be working with either of them. At least they’re tame.”

“Yeah, and they’ll probably be more concerned with trying to eat your lunch or something.”

I laugh at her words but it is still not enough to distract me entirely from the situation. Because at the end of the day, I’m still paired up with Fred Weasley for an assignment I could do independently. “What have I possibly done to deserve something like this? There’s no way that life would just pull something like this out of nowhere.”

Daphne places a hand on my shoulder. “I did tell you to clear things out with him.”

I sigh. “You did. Do you think I’m being punished for avoiding the situation?”

“I totally do,” She nods. “Well that, or maybe it was just that Felix Felicis I drank in the morning taking effect,”

“True,” I agree… and then I halt my steps. “Wait, what did you just say?”

She stops walking as well, blinking cluelessly. “Oh, remember that Felix Felicis I brewed months ago? Well, I drank some of it today to help me with the Transfiguration test and I guess I did a great job brewing it because I seem to keep getting good luck everywhere I go. Neat, right?”

“And you’ve also been crying about Fred and I not talking for weeks,” I grab her by the collar of her shirt and she shrieks. People passing by shoot us odd looks but I’m too busy throwing daggers at her. “You were wishing for something like this to happen and of course, as soon as you drink a bit of Liquid Luck, it happens.”

“Well…” She tries to think of something before she gives up. “Okay yeah, so maybe it was kind of my fault, but you know what? You’ll thank me soon enough.”

“Right now I want to murder you,” I push her back and start walking away.

“Oh, hush, It’s not that big of a deal,” Daphne catches up. “So what if you have to work with him on a potion that takes too long to brew? So what if you have you spend your free time with him and—”

“Stop, stop, stop,” I cover my ears. “I do not want to hear it!”

Daphne leans closer and lowers her voice. “Well, you better do something about that because I think he’s waiting to talk to you.”

I follow her eyes and turn to look at Fred, who is usually walking alongside George and Lee Jordan but now is on his own leaning against a wall, hands buried in his pockets. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s staring at me and I have to turn away. “I guess I do have to talk to him at some point. There’s no way out of this…”

She shakes her head slowly and I sigh. It takes every bit of me to turn back around and start walking towards him, but I do it. For the first time in what feels like so long I’m standing face-to-face with him; the two of us just stare at each other for a few moments. “Hi,” Fred breaks the silence.

“Hi,” I say flatly.

There’s a slight flirtatious glint in his eyes all of a sudden. “So… we’re all coupled up now, eh?”

I blink. “Can you not phrase it like that? Anyway, as you already know we have to work on this potion during our Spring break.”

Fred nods slowly. “Right…?”

“So, that means that we’ll have to meet outside of Hogwarts.”

“You want me to come over to your house, then?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I tense up. I could never consider asking him to come over to my house, not even jokingly. That place is cold and empty, and my family is not the most welcoming with families like Fred’s. Even if I’m not fond of Fred, I would never want to put him through something like that. “Your house sounds like the better option, if you don't mind.” I say.

Fred raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes, why?”

He shrugs. “I just think that maybe my house won’t be to your taste, that’s all.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. As long as your family doesn’t mind, I can stop by.”

“They won’t. Here—” Fred takes out a folded parchment paper and hands it to me. “Here’s my address. I’ll see you, then?”

“Yeah. Until then.”

We walk away from each other and I’m feeling nauseous all of a sudden. 

Bloody hell, I have no idea how I’ll survive this…

***

The first day of Spring break arrives in the blink of an eye. Part of me is glad that I don’t have to spend my day at the manor because I’d rather be anywhere else, even Fred Weasley’s house. The other good thing is that, since I can finally use magic outside of school, I can simply apparate anywhere whenever I want. We decide to meet close to sunset, so around five thirty I gather everything I need and I get ready to disapparate from my house without the need to remind my parents where I’ll be. I’m not even sure if they’re still around (or if they even care) but I don’t think of them as the horrible sensation of apparating begins. Everything twists and turns around me, including myself, until finally, I stand amid sunshine, peace, and fresh air. I take it all in once I regain my composure. The place is a beautiful meadow and in it, a few yards away from me, stands a very peculiar, very lopsided house. It’s several stories high, with about four or five chimneys perched on top of its red roof, and a nice open yard at the entrance. I look around to make sure that there are no other houses around. This has to be it.

I walk toward it, careful not to bother the chickens wandering around the yard. There’s a sign near the entrance that reads THE BURROW and that’s how I’m certain that I’m in the right place. Fred specifically wrote that name down on the instructions. 

Now that I know that I’m at Fred Weasley’s house, I start getting a tad bit nervous. “Come on, (Y/N), you got this. You’re just here to work on a school project, It’s no big deal.” After taking a few deep breaths, I finally find the courage to knock on the door. For the first few seconds, nothing happens, but soon I begin to hear faded footsteps coming from inside. They start sounding closer, and soon enough someone is opening the door. It’s an older woman with lovely red hair, slightly shorter than me. I instantly know that I am staring down at Fred’s mother. “Hello, dear. You must be (Y/N),” She greets me warmly and I nod with a courteous smile. “Oh, good, how wonderful that you’ve made it! Fred has talked so much about you these past few days.”

“Has he?”

“Oh, yes—come in, come in!” Mrs. Weasley steps aside so I can cross the threshold. “And he wanted everything to look good before you arrived. It usually takes a lot to get him to do his chores, but this time he started on them without me even asking him, so I bet you’re quite a special girl. Anyway, you set your stuff over there on the sofa, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll fetch him. Dinner’s almost ready so I hope you’re hungry.”

She gives me one final smile before she walks up the stairs while calling Fred’s name, but my mind can only spiral around the things she was saying a moment ago. My face feels like It’s boiling, and it shouldn’t be, but the fact that his mom thinks that I’m a ‘special girl’ to him makes me…

Nope. No. No. You need to snap out of it, girl.

I focus my attention back on my surroundings. Everything is so different from my house… and yet, somehow, It’s so much better. The living room is welcoming and cozy and homey. The smell of roast beef and potatoes fills the air, making my stomach grumble. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was earlier. I sit down on the sofa and wait patiently for Mrs. Weasley to come back. I’m staring at the family clock, watching the golden hand with Fred’s face on it pointing at the word HOME, until I hear quick footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn to look at Fred’s real face this time. “I see you were able to get here without getting lost on the way,” He says.

I pry my attention away from the fact that his hair is dripping wet and sticking to his forehead like he just got out of the shower. “I did not doubt myself for a moment. Shall we start working on the potion so we can get it over with?”

“Wow, you really don’t want to be here, do you?” Fred chuckles. “We’re not even going to wait for dinner first?”

I sigh. “I just don’t think It’s a good idea for me to stay too long.”

“Because you kissed me.” He doesn’t say it like a question.

“Can you not say that so loud?” I shush him, making sure his mom is still out of sight, but his grin does not falter. I don’t even want to imagine how red my face is. “But… yes, kind of.”

“Well, I’m willing to look past it if you want me to,” He says. “Unless there’s another reason you don’t want to stay?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What other reason could there be?”

“I guess I thought that maybe you’d think my house isn’t as nice as yours…”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You really have to stop assuming that I have some sort of superiority complex over you. And for your information, I think your house is lovely.”

Fred looks surprised for a moment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I confirm. “I probably like it a lot more than mine.”

He stares at me for a second but before either of us can say anything else, Mrs. Weasley comes back to the room. “Fred, why don’t you show (Y/N) around the rest of the house? I’ll call you all back here once the food is ready.”

Fred turns to me. “You want to?”

I cannot bring myself to say no in front of his mother. “Sure,”

He starts his little house tour from the top floor, which happens to be where his younger brother, Ron, and his best friend, Harry Potter, stay. There are five floors in total but there’s not much to see. It's mostly just the bedrooms, but the house is still larger than what I had envisioned. The family is much larger as well. “This is the second floor, and our last stop,” Fred says once we take the last step. There are two bedroom doors on this floor level. “And this is mine and George’s room. I’ll let you get a sneak peek of our latest invention if you behave.”

I roll my eyes as he opens the door. “Gee, what an honor.”

Fred and George’s bedroom is somehow almost exactly as I had imagined it—not that I’ve been spending time imagining what their room looks like. It’s a simple room: it has two identical beds, each with a bedside table, a large wardrobe, some posters pasted around the walls, and a desk holding stuff… lots of different stuff. There is a particular lingering smell of gunpowder around and I cannot even begin to imagine the things that happen inside this walls. I step inside and glance at the mess on the desk. Amongst everything else, I see a briefcase with the words Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes engraved on the side sticking out from the rest of the things. I point toward it with a questioning look. “Ah,” He clasps his hands together. “I see you’ve already spotted our products.”

“Your products?”

“George and I invent joke products,” Fred explains. “We’ve actually started testing them out at Hogwarts recently.”

“Really, at Hogwarts? And you don’t get in trouble for it?”

“Well, I didn’t say that,” Fred wags his finger practically on my face. He walks to the case and opens it; a bunch of bottles, vials, and boxes of all kinds jump out all at once and set themselves in front of us like a magic exhibition. “But anyway, we mostly just want feedback. We’re planning to open our own joke shop after we graduate and we want everything to be right.”

“Huh,” I never would’ve guessed. When he mentioned their “inventions” I instantly assumed he was talking about crafts or something. I know Fred and George love to get under people’s skin with their little pranks, but I never thought that they loved pranking so much they wanted to build a living around it. But then again, we’ve never been close, so all I know about them is what I've seen back at the castle, which I also tend to avoid.  

As I go over the products in silence, my eyes get drawn to the sight of a small brown box. It doesn’t have a label or a logo or any eye-catching design, but it has COMB-A-CHAMELEON handwritten on it and that’s enough to get me intrigued. I look back at him, asking for his permission, and when he motions for me to go on with his hand, I grab it. Inside I can only find an ordinary-looking hairbrush, which throws me off because I was expecting something more, I don’t know, magical? I guess my confusion is clear because Fred laughs lightly while I just keep staring. “Would you like to try it out?” He asks.

I look up at him warily, looking for any signs of malice, but all I can find is a redheaded boy who seems excited by the idea of me using one of his products. “I don’t know if I should…”

“I can promise you that It’s nothing too bad.”

“You don’t strike me as trustworthy when it comes to these things.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Fred admits. “But I’m telling the truth this time, I promise. Go ahead, try it.”

I almost back down from it but I can’t help feeling bad just thinking about it. Fred looks like a kid who attempted to make breakfast by himself and is waiting for his mom to eat it. So I grab the brush and, hesitantly, I start combing my hair. A few brushes are enough to do the trick. Soon enough, I feel some tugging happening around my head. The process lasts a few seconds and then I feel the weight of my hair go down, but it feels lighter. Fred rubs his chin while he stares at me. I have no idea how I look but he nods in approval. “Alright,” He motions toward the mirror hanging from the door. “Go ahead and take a look.”

When I turn to look, I gasp. I expect my hair, which I had let fall down my back in curls earlier, to look like a bird’s nest by the time I’m done, but much to my surprise it is now pulled back into a nice long braid. “Fred,” I run my fingers through it.  “This is very impressive! And you guys came up with this from scratch?”

“Yup. Every single one of them.” He sounds proud of himself and his brother. And he should be.

“What else do you have?”

“Oh, tons of stuff,” He reaches and grabs another box, the same color but slightly bigger. This one says SKIVING SNACKBOX in big bold letters and when he opens it there's a ton of what looks like individually wrapped pieces of candy. Fred takes a single piece and removes the wrapping. One side is an orange color while the other one is purple. “This is our most tested product so far. When you eat the orange half of the candy you start to feel ill—nothing too bad, just enough to get you out of class—and then once you’re finally out, you take the purple half and you feel better again, ready to enjoy your free time. Brilliant, I know.”

“And you’re aware that this leaves a horrible example for younger generations, right?”

“Yeah, we hope so,” He rubs his palms together and it reminds me of a cheesy villainous moment. Then, he offers me the open candy in his hand. “Wanna try it out?”

I roll my eyes and push his hand away. “I can’t believe that you and your brother are throwing your talent away by making… these.”

“Wait, did I just hear a compliment in between all of that?” Fred leans close with a hand behind his ear, pretending to be bad at hearing.

My eyes roll for a second time because this boy just loves to make my eyes… nevermind. “All I’m saying is that maybe you should focus your attention on creating something more… useful?”

Fred pretends to look offended. “This is useful! Why spend so many hours in class when you can be using the time to do more important things, like playing games or sleeping?”

“Of course,” I say sarcastically. “It’s not like we need education or anything,” I then spot a bigger box, this one a bright pink color, and point to it. “What’s that?”

When he sees what I’m pointing at, he smirks at me. “Those are our WonderWitch products. They come in a variety; we have things like pimple vanishers to love potions.”

I quirk a brow. “Love potions?”

“The best love potions around,” He says, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he leans against his desk. “Although I don’t think you really need one.”

I nearly gape at him. “What do you mean?”

Fred shrugs. “I think Malfoy may already have the hots for you. I see the way he looks at you.”

“Excuse me?!” In what world does Draco Malfoy like me? And in what world would I ever reciprocate those same feelings?

“I’m joking,” Fred chuckles at my mortified expression. “But I’m sure there are guys at the school who are head over heels for you.”

I scoff. “I doubt it.”

He stares down at me, and I swear we’re standing closer to each other than before. “I wouldn’t.”

I blink a few times. I want to say something back but I do not know what. What do you even say to that? Luckily, Mrs. Weasley’s voice coming from downstairs, announcing that dinner is ready, fills in the blank space and I take the opportunity to close the subject. “We should go.”

We exit the twins’ bedroom but before we can head down the stairs, I halt my steps. “Wait,” I point to the other door. “You never told me whose room that is.”

Fred turns to look at it. “Oh,” Something flashes across his expression and I’m unsure what it is. “No one’s. Come on, Mom’s waiting.”

He keeps walking and, although I find his reaction odd, I follow him without saying anything else.

***

I have never been close to my family. Due to our differing ideals, my parents and I always end every single conversation with an argument, so we try to speak to each other as little as possible. My brother is kind of walking along the same path, unfortunately, and although he’s a bit more tolerable, a lot of times it still feels like I’m talking to a wall. Dinner, specifically, has always been a horrible time, because I get to sit there and listen to them complain about muggle-borns, support the Ministry and its lies, praise my brother for following their footsteps, and criticize me for never wanting to be like them.

With the Weasleys, it feels completely different. It feels nice and comfortable, and the topic of blood status is not brought up once. Their dynamic feels so natural and like how a true family should be. Mrs. Weasley scolds her children every five minutes but you can tell that she loves them more than anything else. She also likes to insist on me grabbing more servings, and if my stomach was bottomless I’d probably eat every single thing on the table. Mr. Weasley is fascinated by my knowledge of the muggle world and how it functions, although It’s mostly just things I’ve learned from Muggle Studies. Contrary to what I’ve always thought of her, Ginny is pretty cool. She and I share similar tastes and her impressions are hilarious and spot on. Ron is a bit awkward and is mostly just eating and talking to Harry Potter, who happens to be staying over for spring break, but now and then he asks me a question if he’s interested enough in what I’m saying. The twins get in trouble several times, one of them being when they decided to sneak a fake spider into Ron’s plate, which made him nearly faint. And although I’ve been acting like a total bitch to him for so long, Fred makes sure that I don’t feel left out, often trying to include me in the conversation or playfully teasing me in a way. But I find that I don’t mind it; It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while.

After we’re done with dinner, I am forced to decline Ginny’s offer to go flying for a bit because we still have to work on the potion, which I had almost forgotten about by the time Mrs. Weasley brought in dessert, but I tell her that we can try and get together another time to do so. Fred and I head directly back to his room so we can get it over with. I'm surprised to discover that Fred works really well as a team when he actually commits to it. “Can I ask you a question?” I ask him while I add and stir Powdered Moonstone into the cauldron.

He thinks about it but not for long. “Only if I can ask one back.”

Of course, there’s always a catch with him. “Okay, whatever,” I say defeatedly. “Whose room is the one across from yours?”

Fred sighs as his usual playful demeanor suddenly drops for a moment, but he tries to hide the fact that the question has any effect on him as he helps me slice Adder's Fork. “It’s Percy’s, my older brother,” He finally answers. “He kind of doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Did something happen?” I ask without thinking. And then I realize how nosy I sounded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, It’s none of my business—”

“No, I don’t mind,” He shakes his head. He’s being genuine. “You know about the whole thing happening with Harry and the Ministry of Magic, right?”

“About You-Know-Who coming back and the Ministry feeding lies to everyone because they’re cowards?”

Fred nods. “Pretty much. Well, Percy is siding with the Ministry because he's a git, and he and Dad had a very bad argument about it a few weeks ago. Then he just left and we haven’t heard from him since.”

“Oh, wow,” I say with wide eyes. “That must’ve been hard for all of you.”

“Especially for mom. She’s cried every single day after he left.” 

There’s a hint of sadness in his tone that I’ve never heard from him before and I can’t shake away the uncomfortable feeling I get from it. I guess I’ve never thought of Fred Weasley as someone who gets sad now and then, who maybe even cries when he’s upset, but at the end of the day, he’s still human just like me. “I’m so sorry.” I can’t help but say.

“You don’t have to be,” Fred says, giving me a reassuring smile. “But anyway, now It’s my turn,” His tone changes drastically back to its typical self. “Why didn’t you want me to visit your house? Because I saw how tense you got when I mentioned it.”

“Simple,” I slightly raise the heat on the cauldron after Fred drops the Adder’s Fork into the mixture. “My family is not very pleasant to be around with.”

“I guess I kind of figured. Are they…?”

“Blood supremacists? Yes,” I answer. “The worst kind possible. That’s why as soon as I graduate I want to find my own place and cut all ties with them immediately. They know I want to, and they don’t care, either.”

Fred remains silent for a moment while he adds the Jobberknoll Feathers. “I didn't know that.”

I shrug. “I guess I've grown used to it. I've had to put up with them my whole life, but I'm glad I'll soon have the chance to go my own way.”

“Another question,” He says, almost like he’s asking permission to do so, but he doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Are your parents Death Eaters?”

The question stings, and I consider lying for a quick moment, but I slowly nod.

Fred’s eyes grow big. “Bloody hell.”

“Yup,” I say. It’s a conversation I don’t want to have with anyone but he would’ve found out eventually. It’s a shock he didn't know about it already. “That's why people tend to have a bad image of me once they find out. It's bad enough that I'm in Slytherin, people already think I'm a delinquent just by that alone. And that’s why I rather just not talk about my family.”

The room goes quiet for a second while I stir the potion clockwise. Then, Fred says, “Well, congrats. You’ve actually made me feel bad.”

“What for?”

“Before getting to know you better, I didn't like you for the mere fact that I thought you were an uptight Slytherin, just because you seemed to dislike mine and George’s pranks,” He explains.

I chuckle, reminiscing about the ongoing war between both of our Houses and all the times Fred and George managed to piss us off. “Hey, I don’t hold it against you. You’re not the only one. Besides, I  didn’t like you either, so we’re even.”

Fred smirks. “Didn’t?”

“I guess you’re not… as bad as I thought,” I confess, avoiding his eyes.

“Huh,” He says. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

***

When I leave the Burrow, there’s a hollow feeling in my chest. As soon as I’m greeted by the cold presence of my parents back at the manor, I realize how long I’ve always longed for something like what I experienced tonight. In a single day the Weasleys made me feel like I'd been a part of their family forever, something my own family has yet to accomplish. 

The Easter break goes by way too slowly, and for me that’s not necessarily a good thing. I spend a lot of alone time at the manor, although sometimes I meet up with Daphne, and on the second to last day, I go back to the Burrow one more time because there is still one important step to complete in the brewing process, which is to get the potion to absorb moonlight on the night of the full moon. But we manage to do it without trouble, although, by the time I'm back at the manor, there is something deep down still troubling me. 

When we’re finally back at Hogwarts, Fred finds me to test out the potion the day before we have to show it in class, and we go all the way up to the Astronomy Tower. “Okay,” Fred says as soon as we are all settled in. “You got the good stuff?”

I grab my bag and take out the the vial of colorless liquid. It might as well be water, exactly as it should be. The two of us observe the Veritaserum with pride. I reach into the bag again and take out a glass dropper I’d borrowed from Daphne while he opens the vial. “So, who goes first?” Fred asks.

I purse my lips in thought. “What if we drink it at the same time and then we just take turns asking each other a question?”

“Nice. Rock paper scissors to see who gets to ask first?”

We tie for two rounds straight before he beats me with rock. I hand him the dropper and he squeezes some of the liquid into it. “Remember, three drops should be enough for it to work,” I remind him.

He nods. He passes the dropper back to me when he’s done and I take the three drops. There’s no smell and no taste, either, which is better than it being disgusting. I wait for something to happen, any indication that the serum has started taking effect, but I don’t feel any different. Fred seems to feel the same. “So… how do we know if It’s working?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Ask me a question, I guess.”

“Uhh… what’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously?” Fred holds his hands up in defense and I sigh and answer anyway. “Yellow.”

He raises a brow, eyeing me carefully. “Is that true?”

“It is.”

“Okay, then maybe It’s working! Now you ask me something.”

I try to think of something else, something that a guy like him usually lies about. “Did you do your homework during Spring break?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What were you doing in the meantime?”

“George and I were busy perfecting some of our products,” Fred answers. I don’t even have to question if It’s true. “Speaking of, who do you think is the cuter twin?”

“You, of course,” I say, and then I cover my mouth, but It’s too late. That’s far from what I wanted to say but I guess the serum really is working now. Fred is grinning from ear to ear without a care in the world, and he’s clearly enjoying this. Before he can say anything, I ask the first thing that comes to mind. “What do you really think about me?”

He blinks at me, taken aback, but he answers without stuttering. “Well, at first, I thought you were just another annoying, hateful Slytherin—cute, but hateful. But then I realized that you're probably the coolest girl I've ever met.”

Fred looks like he just got out of a trance and he doesn’t remember anything about the last few seconds. I smile in satisfaction. He thinks he has an advantage on this little “game” but he seems to forget that we’re both in it. I can pull a secret from him just as easily. “Interesting,” I comment. “You didn't mention thinking I was cute earlier.”

“Are you trying to start something here?” He asks.

I shake my head. “I think you started it a long time ago.”

“Okay, then,” He folds his arms across his chest. “Do you regret kissing me that night?”

I try to stop myself from talking but It’s useless. Don’t answer him. “No. I don’t think I ever did.”

Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut up!

“I knew it,” Fred says, stepping closer. My back makes contact with the nearest wall but neither of us pulls away. “I knew that wasn’t for nothing.”

I ignore the way his eyes move down to my lips. “Did you like it when I kissed you?”

“Yes. I still think about it to this day,” He confesses shamelessly. “If you don’t regret kissing me, does that mean that you have feelings for me?”

I have gotten to know more about Fred Weasley than I had ever imagined. I’ve been to his house, I’ve met his family, I’ve seen how he is outside of school… “I do,” I tell him, locking my gaze with his. “I like you.”

There’s a brief moment of silence in which the two of us just stare at each other, indulging in what I just said. Maybe I wasn’t thinking of confessing my feelings today but It’s out now. I could Obliviate him so he forgets any of this ever happened but I… I don’t want to. And I don’t think he wants either with the way he wraps an arm around my waist and connects his lips with mine.

With his free hand, Fred brings me as close to him as humanly possible and tangles it in my hair. This kiss feels so different than the first one; I was cold, wet, terrified, and not in a good state of mind when we kissed that night, and he was not expecting me to do that. But this time we’re both warm, needy, and desperate, and I’m tired of fighting it. I’m tired of fighting him. I want him. “Good,” Fred pulls away, his voice breathless, and my heart jumps. “Because I like you, too.”

I grab him by the tie and kiss him again, and he responds right away. He holds me like I’m the most precious thing to him, like he needs me more than anything, and it makes me want him even more. I tug at his hair and he groans softly, coaxing his tongue with mine as soon as I have access. We get so caught up in each other that I begin to forget where we are; my vision and all of my senses are invaded by a tall ginger boy who just couldn’t leave me alone in the first place. And I’m so glad he didn’t.

I pull away and Fred moves to kiss my cheek and then my jawline. My heart flutters in the best way. “How long have you liked me?” I ask him while I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I think I’ve been attracted to you for a long time but when you really had me in a chokehold was when you nearly succeeded in taking the Cup from us,” Fred says. There’s a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I was so impressed by you, and then when you kissed me…” He makes a gesture as if he’s been shot through the heart. I fail to hold back my laughter. “I’ve been hooked ever since.”

I bite my lip, playing with a strand of my hair. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Yes, actually, there is,” I initially expect a joke or a silly comment, but once again Fred Weasley manages to take me by surprise. “If you ever need a place to stay after you graduate, do not hesitate to tell me because I’m sure mom would love to have you staying over.”

My eyebrows raise and my eyes go wide. “What?”

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was just—you were talking about it the other day and I-I wanted you to have the option, you know, just in case…”

“Fred Weasley, are you messing with me?” I raise my fist, ready to hit his arm.

Fred grabs my wrist gently and lowers it out of sight. He’s still smiling down at me like he’s amused. “I swear that I will talk to my mom about it if you ever need me to. You can use Percy’s room or mine and George’s room if we move out.”

That’s the nicest thing anyone could ever do for me. I never thought anyone would; aside from Fred, Daphne is the only person who shows any concern over me. I know she would have no problem with me staying with her after graduation but I also know she’s leaving immediately after to live in Paris. My eyes well up with tears but I fight to keep them in. “That would be nice,” My voice is slightly shaky, but steady. “Thank you,”

A single tear escapes but Fred gently wipes it away. “You’re very welcome.”

He leans down to peck my lips. I grin in content. “Do you want to go get dinner?”

“Oh, you’re inviting me out to eat?” He wiggles his eyebrows and I hit his arm playfully. I fight back a smile.

We gather our things and head down to the Great Hall. Fred holds my hand the entire way. I must admit that it feels nice to not fight back my feelings and just enjoy my alone times with Fred, even if It's something as simple as moving from one place to another. When we're approaching the large doors, I feel Fred’s fingers abandoning mine. I look up at him and, once I see the look on his face, I realize why he does it: he thinks I don’t want to be seen with him. And, yes, maybe if Fred Weasley went to grab my hand a few weeks ago I would probably bite it off but if he doesn’t hold it now I will most definitely cry. When he’s about to turn his head, I reach to grab his hand, seeing and feeling him jump under my touch. He stares at our linked hands like he cannot believe what he’s seeing and—is that a blush tinting his cheeks? I crane my neck up and smile at him. After allowing myself to know him a little better, I’ve discovered that I love catching him off guard more than anything. It shows a whole different side of him, and It’s very attractive.

We open the giant doors to the Great Hall after Fred recovers and we walk in. A few heads turn in our direction; some of them don’t think anything interesting is going on so they go back to their plates, while others stare curiously. A few Gryffindors whisper while George and Lee Jordan smirk our way. The Slytherin table cannot help but be a bit more obvious, murmuring stuff to each other that I’m sure is nothing good and sneering at the both of us as Fred leans in close. “I think you’re getting banned from Slytherin, but don’t worry, I’m sure Gryffindor could take you in.”

I chuckle as I roll my eyes. “They’ll get over it. Anyway, I don’t care what they say. Talk to you later?”

“Of course,” Fred says.

I go to walk away but he grabs my chin and before I can ask him what he’s doing he leans down to plant a quick kiss on my lips. He walks away, leaving me standing there frozen for a moment, and before he reaches his spot on the Gryffindor table he turns his head and winks at me.  That bastard, I think as I shake my head. He did that on purpose!

When I finally reach my table I feel the daggers that my housemates are throwing at me piercing through my skull, but I focus on the beaming girl sitting across from me. I sigh as I grab my empty plate and begin serving myself. “Go on. Say whatever you have to say.”

“I told you!” She bursts. “I told you there was something there, and I told you that he liked you, and I certainly knew that you were just acting stupid. You liked him, too! You stupid, stupid bitch—”

“No insults, please.”

“But you are a stupid bitch, are you or are you not?”

“I can't say I'm not.”

“Staining the name of Slytherin yet again, (L/N)?” Draco calls from the other side of the table. “You shouldn’t even be carrying your family’s last name. It’s too big of an honor for a blood traitor like you.”

A few Slytherin laugh in agreement.  “Should she even be allowed to sit with us? I bet Weasley germs are spreading around our table already.” Pansy Parkinson grimaces.

“Well, the Parkinson germs have been spreading for years, haven’t they?” I snap back at her.

“Yeah, and no one’s said anything about it,” Daphne adds, shrugging innocently.

Pansy glares at the both of us but does not say anything else. When she turns back to her group, Daphne rolls her eyes. “The only con about all of this is that you have to put up with stuff like that.”

“That’s true,” I agree. “But I honestly don’t care.”

I turn to look at the Gryffindor table, and automatically my eyes find Fred’s figure. He’s already looking in my direction and when our eyes meet we smile. Okay, yes, I do like him. I like him a lot.

[heyitspersephone]

Thinking about stranger things again now that the strikes are over and how, narratively, it would be way, WAY cooler to have Mike get Vecna’d instead of Will in s5

It’s just something about the way Mike’s trauma is never addressed or handled in any way?? Like, he hugs his mom twice and then when he was depressed in season 2 and 4 nobody did anything (his parents scolded him for his behavior in s2 ig but that’s not support). His best friend went missing leaving from his house, he watched his body get pulled from the quarry, watched El (in his eyes) kill herself stopping the demogorgon, watched Will be possessed, saw Bob die, was in Star Court when everything went down, saw Billy die, had his best friend move away, was SHOT AT (and really too few people talk about the shooting in Cali bc omg??), buried a body, and watched the apocalypse start. And that’s just off the top of my head.

(And yes I’m aware that the other characters (especially Will) are traumatized too but I will get to my point in a second just hold on)

The plot is geared towards this idea that Will and Henry have to have some big face off (and they should, in my opinion, but I don’t think it should be in a possession, or at least not the the Vecna kind of possession, yk?) but that makes it all the better, writing wise, to have mike be the one in danger. Will was helpless and hiding in s1, I think Will should get his big strong moments in s5 where he gets to be the hero of the story.

It would just be a lot more fun to work with Mike being Vecna’d than Will, because what are we going to bring up with Will’s visions? His dad? His sexuality? The events of s1 from his perspective? It would be cool to see, for sure, but we already know most of that. Mike, on the other hand, has a number of untapped things, like jumping off the quarry, why he’s so hesitant to tell El he loves her, how someone who was smart and kind enough to take El in in s1 and come up with the spy and sauna plans in s2 and s3 could turn into the oblivious asshole that he was in s3 and s4 (he needs therapy, ik, I still love his character but I want to explore the reasons he went from his s2 characterization to his s3 one)

It would be a very interesting parallel, I think, to explore Mike’s thought processes in this way, especially with all of Mike’s repression business (bc whether you ship byler or milkvan he is repressing his feelings HARD. Like, beyond his inability to say I love you there’s the fact that he doesn’t bring up the apparent many times he called pre-s4 during the Rink O Mania fight?? That literally would’ve absolved him of guilt in that argument since he WAS reaching out to Will the whole time? Hellooooo????).

Anyways, this all brings me to my main point: Vecna targets isolation as much as he targets trauma and guilt. The whole party was traumatized by the events in s1, s2, and s3, but Max was the one targeted. Plus, Henry went for Fred, Chrissy, and Patrick (I think his name was Patrick) instead of going for the perceivably easy targets that the mcs would make (ik narratively that would’ve made it more boring but shhh), so why Max and those three specifically? They were isolated. Lucas and Erica have each other, Dustin goes to Steve and Robin, Will and El have each other and Jonathan and Joyce, Nancy probably goes to Jonathan, and who does Mike go to?

No one. And don’t say Nancy because if those two have heart to hearts then I’m the next coming of Christ. Max separated herself from the Party in the aftermath of her grief and guilt over Billy, and it feels quite obvious that Mike was doing the same (like I said, he has repression issues). So Mike is traumatized, alone, and guilty (be it Will getting taken from Mike’s house, losing El in front of him multiple times, the many deaths he has witnessed, or the internalized homophobia angle), which makes him more of a target than Will, in my opinion (or at least an easier one, especially given his tendency to put himself on the line during fights (quarry, most of s2, s3 mindflayer fight), which would set him up on the suicidal ideation path)

Furthermore, as I’ve seen a few other people point out (and I can’t find the posts but one of them had eight screenshots of the various moments), Mike is always the one getting in the way, so it would be a strategic move for Henry to target him to get him out of the picture. Mike was the one that found El and got her involved in saving Will s1, he was the one who came up with the spy plan and called out the ambush in s2, he was the one to monologue Will out of his possession s2, he was the one with the sauna plan for Billy in s3, he was the one trying to help El get the strength to fight s4 (even if the monologue sucked ass it’s the intention that counts). As much as people like to hate on Mike, he is in the leader position most of the time when the party is grouped up (barring his mental health struggles slowing that down beginning of s3 and throughout s4, but he’s still capable of it). He’s the idea man, and he’s the one whose character’s foundations were built on the desire to keep his friends safe, so it would be a very fun plot line to watch him be the one targeted in s5. Like Will said, as lovestruck and cheesy as he was, Mike is the heart of the party when he’s on his A-game, so Henry should 100% be trying to keep him in the issues he’s been struggling with.

Obviously, Will and El are the Targets with a capital T for Henry since they’re the ones that got away or whatever, but I think Mike is a weakness of Will’s (and El’s tbh but also I think they need to have separate character arcs and I don’t exactly ship milkvan) that should be exploited.

TL;DR: Mike should get Vecna’d instead of Will in s5 because it would make sense in lore and be a very cool way to resolve his character arc