TOM GLYNN CARNEY As AEGON II TARGARYEN HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022-) ↳02x03 "The Burning Mill" ↳Behind

# FIRST LOVE, ㅤㅤ FRED WEASLEY

ㅤㅤ★ PROMPT !

× "She fell in love first, he fell harder."

ㅤㅤ★ WARNINGS !

× None.

ㅤㅤ★ NOTES !

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word count: 2.2k

The first time you realized you liked Fred Weasley, you were fourteen.

It was a fleeting moment, in the middle of a casual conversation in the Gryffindor common room. He threw his head back, laughing at some silly joke his brother had told, his eyes shining under the firelight. And that was when it happened. Something in your chest tightened slightly, a cold sensation filled your stomach, and suddenly, Fred Weasley wasn’t just a mischievous friend with whom you shared classes and pranks. He was someone who made your heart beat differently.

But Fred was… well, Fred. He flirted with everyone, threw careless winks at girls in the hallway, and pulled pranks that left professors on the verge of a breakdown. He didn’t see you that way. At least, that’s what you told yourself every time you saw him sprawled on the Gryffindor couch, his arm lazily draped over the shoulders of some other girl.

So, you buried the feeling. Moved on—or at least tried to.

But Fred fell in love later.

It was at the beginning of fifth year that he realized it. At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible. Small details he ignored or attributed to coincidence. Like the fact that your eyes always seemed to find his first in the Great Hall. Or how he missed your laughter on days when you didn’t spend as much time together.

But then came the moment that really hit him—the one that knocked the air from his lungs and made his stomach twist.

You were in the courtyard, sitting with your friends, and someone cracked a joke. He laughed, of course. But then he looked to the side and saw you laughing too. And it wasn’t just any laugh. You tilted your head back slightly, your eyes shining, your shoulders relaxed. A light and genuine sound, carefree. Something inside him clenched. Hard.

And in that instant, he knew.

You were no longer just the friend he joked around with and talked to without a care. You were the girl he searched for in a crowd without even realizing it. The one who made his heart race when you smiled that certain way, in a way only he seemed to notice.

And that’s when fear set in.

Fred Weasley was never afraid. He faced teachers, rules, even magical creatures with a grin on his face and a wild plan in his head. But when it came to you, he had no idea what to do. Because what would happen if he crossed that line and lost you?

So he hid it. Kept winking at other girls, kept telling jokes as if nothing had changed.

But it had.

George noticed before Fred could even admit it to himself.

“You’re screwed,” George casually commented one night while organizing products for their next prank.

Fred frowned. “What are you talking about?”

George chuckled, his gaze mischievous. “You, idiot. You stare at Y/N all day and don’t even realize it.”

Fred scoffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but you do.” George tossed a Chocolate Frog at him. “The great Fred Weasley, feared by teachers, master of pranks… in love.”

“I’m not in love with Y/N, she’s my friend.”

George raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then why do you scowl every time you see her talking to another guy?”

Fred opened his mouth to protest but found that he couldn’t.

George laughed even harder. “You’re absolutely screwed, mate.

Fred sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew George was right. But admitting it out loud? That was another story.

And then came that night.

The tavern in Hogsmeade was lit by floating candles, the air filled with the scent of butterbeer and carefree laughter. It was one of those cold nights packed with teenagers, where nothing seemed to matter except the present moment. Students were scattered in groups, occupying tables and speaking loudly to be heard over the background music.

Fred was in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by George and their friends, immersed in the whirlwind of jokes and teasing that filled the room. The atmosphere was light, the typical Weasley energy mixed with their friends’ excitement. The game had started off playful—rounds of embarrassing questions, stupid bets, and dares that grew bolder with time. The classic truth or dare, which Fred loved. Until the next question came, cutting through the fun.

“Well, I’ll go with truth this time,” Fred said, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though his eyes gleamed with suspicion.

Angelina, with that mischievous smile he knew all too well, leaned forward slightly.

"Have you ever thought about kissing Y/N?" she asked, her voice laced with playful mischief.

The question hit Fred like a blast of cold air. He laughed—a knee-jerk reaction, almost instinctive. Laughing was his defense, his shield against anything that made him feel too much. And there, in front of everyone, it was easier to pretend nothing special was happening. He simply smiled, carefree, as he always did.

“She’s my friend, why would I?” he replied.

The answer came before he could think. Light, casual. As if it meant nothing. As if he wasn’t burying something deep inside his chest.

But then he saw you.

You were there. Close enough to hear.

For a second, he couldn’t quite read your expression. It wasn’t anger. Not even obvious sadness. It was something worse. It was silent acceptance.

It was the way you looked away, let out a quiet sigh, and returned to your conversation as if it didn’t matter. As if, in that moment, a part of you had given up waiting.

And that was when Fred realized he was screwed.

Because something inside him screamed in protest. Something in him wanted to run to you, to say it was a lie, that he only said it because he didn’t know how to admit the truth. But how could he? He had spent years pretending he felt nothing. Now, when he finally understood what he truly wanted, maybe it was too late.

And then he saw you with someone else.

Fred couldn’t explain why that moment hit him like a punch to the gut. Maybe it was the way you tilted your head back to laugh, your eyes shining with something genuine. Maybe it was because, for the first time, that laugh hadn’t been caused by him.

He was walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, surrounded by the usual noise of students going back and forth, when he saw you there. Leaning against a wall, arms crossed in a relaxed way, while some guy—a random guy, one that wasn’t him—said something that clearly amused you.

His heart clenched.

Maybe it was just a conversation. Maybe that smile of yours meant nothing beyond politeness. But, for the first time, Fred had to face a possibility he had never truly considered: that you might move on.

The first time you didn’t seek him out to talk about your day, he missed it. His eyes scanned the Great Hall, expecting you to appear at his side as usual, ready to share some silly story or complain about an impossible History of Magic assignment. But you didn’t come.

The first time you didn’t laugh at his jokes, he wanted to punch himself. He told one of those stupid jokes that always made you roll your eyes before laughing for real, but this time, your expression remained unreadable. And in that small instant, he realized he might have gone too far.

He loved you.

And it wasn’t just any love. It was a consuming love, one that burned in his chest and made his breath falter. A love that made him want to go back in time, undo every poorly chosen word, every laugh thrown into the wind as if nothing mattered. He wanted to go back to the exact moment he said you were just a friend and slap himself.

Because now he saw.

Now he understood.

The night at Hogwarts was steeped in mystery and a quiet melancholy. The sky, burdened with clouds, unleashed its fury in a symphony of cracks and rumbles, echoing against the glass windows and the castle’s cold stones. The wind cut through the narrow corridors, carrying with it the feeling that time, somehow, was running out.

Fred Weasley hurried up the dormitory stairs, his breath heavy and his mind racing. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the words he needed to say were weighing down his chest, piling up until he could no longer bear the burden. The rain, now forming small streams along the steps, made him feel more alive, more aware of everything at stake. He knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

The door to his dormitory was just ahead, and with a near-desperate impulse, Fred knocked, his cold, trembling hands striking the solid wood with a firm and determined sound. One, two, three knocks—a rhythm that seemed to stretch into eternity. Inside his mind, echoes of doubt, the “what ifs” and “maybes,” tangled with the certainty that he had no more choices. He couldn’t turn back now.

There was a moment of deep silence, a second of absolute tension, where the fear that he might already be too late tried to creep in. But then the door opened, and there you were, eyes wide with surprise. Your hair was slightly tousled, the fatigue of the day mingling with the confused expression of someone who hadn’t expected a visit from someone so… caught in the storms of his own heart.

Fred stood there, drenched to the bone. His red hair stuck to his forehead, his shirt and rain-soaked cloak clinging to his body. But what stood out the most wasn’t his physical state—it was the look in his eyes. Something there was different. He wasn’t just standing in that hallway; he was deep inside himself, in a place only the purest and most sincere feeling could have led him to. And in those words, he could no longer hide what he felt.

“Fred?”

He took a step forward—there was no hesitation. He knew he needed to speak, to pour out everything he had kept inside for so long. His chest burned, but not with anger or frustration—with a tense, repressed love that was finally finding a way to be spoken. The words escaped in a rush, with no room for filters, no room for disguise.

“I was an idiot.” He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours as if searching for a thread of hope to hold on to. “I took so long to realize… to see what was right in front of me this whole time.”

His voice was low, rough, marked by the intensity of his confession. He looked vulnerable, a little lost, as if, for the first time, he was truly seeing what had been around him all along.

“All the times I pretended everything was fine… that I didn’t care… all the times I lied to myself… They were lies.”

Rain streaked his face, but his gaze was clear—clear of any doubt. “I know now. I know that… I fell in love with you long before I even realized it. And if there’s still a chance… if you give me a chance, I will do everything I can to prove how real this is.”

The space between you felt smaller, drawn together by the weight of his words. And as he spoke, the words seemed to dissolve into the air, leaving everything clearer than ever. He wasn’t speaking just for himself anymore—he was speaking for both of you, for everything that could be, for all the things that had been hidden between you, waiting for a moment like this.

You stood there, motionless, your heart pounding in your chest. Your mind echoed with the sound of all those turbulent nights, the moments of pain, the frustration, and the challenges that had kept you apart. But now, facing Fred, his soul as exposed as yours, there was something else. A new feeling—something you didn’t yet know how to name—but it spread between you, filling the empty spaces.

There was hope.

Fred took a hesitant step forward, his eyes searching yours, almost pleading. His hand, cold from the rain, reached out for yours, as if trying to touch the only thing that truly mattered now—what existed between you. The gesture was simple but carried an immense longing, a vulnerability he had never shown before.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath, “let me show you that I can be more than I was.”

You felt the weight of his words, the sincerity overflowing from them, and something inside you broke—an invisible barrier you had built around yourself. The love he had kept hidden, the words he was finally saying, all of it resonated deep within your soul. You had known from the beginning that something existed between you. But now, with words and feelings finally aligned, you couldn’t deny what had always been there.

With a soft smile, you reached out, your fingers barely touching his, your breathing slowing as if, finally, the two of you were breathing in the same rhythm. “I was waiting for you, Fred,” you whispered, your voice nearly breaking with emotion.

Fred smiled—a small, hesitant, but genuine smile, as if, at last, he had found his peace.

And then, your lips met. The rain still fell, the wind still howled through the stone corridors, but now, nothing else mattered. You were there, in the same space, in the same moment, finally understanding that what had always been inevitable… was happening.

You fell in love first.

But he fell harder.

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Me on my wedding day when my husband is not Fred Weasley...

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*wakes up dazed and chained locked up in a yandere’s basement*

Them: you’ll never have to work a day in your life I’m taking care of you forever 🔪

Me: (relieved sigh) thank fucking god

comfortember, prompt: sweater weather

synopsis: katsuki has his own tradition with you.

pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

warning: reader has a little sibling (mentioned), reader and katsuki are married, katsuki towers over the reader, reader is referred to as wife

notes: i hate this one ughh, it’s cute though 🥹🥹but it’s also so short 😭

word count: 581

before you katsuki hated traditions. he refused to partake in them with his family. Mitsuki wants to go to a pumpkin patch? you best believe he would rather stay home and do chores than do such corny and cheesy things.

now, when the two of you started dating, he didn't think this would be any different. he’ll let you do your own thing while he does his… but how could he say no to you? you were so cute, so reluctantly… he agreed.

he agreed to do matching costumes with you for Halloween and hell, he even went trick-or-treating with your little sibling. He agreed to go to the pumpkin patch with you, his lover. he went apple picking, carved jack-o-lanterns, and went to the corn maze with his group of friends for the first time.

it wasn’t just fall traditions too, he started celebrating Valentine's Day, started having movie nights with you, and went to the music festival with you. any tradition you wanted to create with him he would be more than happy to have with you.

eventually, he felt the need to create his own unnamed tradition. something that didn't come from you and solely from him. which is how he began to make any excuse to give you his sweater when the weather cooled..

he's made sure to do this since your second year dating even to now when you're three years married.

“oi,” he starts, sauntering over to you. the sweater he wore barely concealing his muscles. “’yer not appropriately dressed for this weather.”

you look up from the pumpkins you were currently inspecting and raised an eyebrow at him. you have noticed how during October and November he always tries to give you his sweater. not that you’d ever complain about that. you get to show the world that you’re wearing your husband’s sweater, it smells like him and you get to watch his muscles flex as he undresses. it seems like a win all around.

“how am i not appropriately dressed, katsuki?” you asked chuckling softly, standing up to “meet his height”, but your darn husband towered over you. practically craning your neck to look up at him.

“you have no sweater,” he said rather smugly, crossing his arms with a smirk, “you can catch a cold.”

“i think ill be alright, babe. i have long sleeves and it’s not that—“

“the weather is cooling. you don’t know if the weather can drop,” he argued, uncrossing his arms as he began to take off his sweater. careful to not flip it inside out before handing— no, forcing it into your hands. “i don’t want my beloved wife to get sick.”

you gave katsuki a look, raising your brow at him. “and what if my husband got sick instead, hm? what is japan going to do without their best hero?” you asked, heeding his request however and putting on his sweater.

his sweater completely enveloped you, his musky scent immediately enveloping your senses. it was nice, he smelled faintly like caramel, burnt caramel, but caramel nonetheless.

“they’ll have to survive; my wife is more important.” he replied smugly, crossing his arms.

“you’re so lame, katsuki. i don’t think your sidekick will like that” you laughed,

“he can survive a week.”

rolling your eyes, you turned your attention to one of the pumpkins in front of you, “what do you think about this pumpkin?”

“it’s too small, i want our pumpkin to be terryfing this year.”

Happy Final Destination: Bloodlines release day! This family did not deserve to witness the horrors :D here's some textpost memes

Ben Blackwood vibes

People are not appreciating the DILF vibe that player 246 brings to the table

found on r/freefolk

I need God every day.

together at last

pair: Fred Weasley x reader

requested by @woahimboredlmao

Hihihi!! I love your writing so much!!! I was wondering if you could do a fred x ghost! Reader? Yn had died years before Fred was even born, she died during her 7th year. So when Fred first sees her he fell in love. Even though most of the other student found her terrifying. Like the lyrics ‘scary my God your Devine’ he finds out eventually how she died and stuff but he never saw her as any less and he always seemed to be around her, despite what others thought and when he dies in the battle of hogworts he’d finally be able to be with her

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Fred had always loved a good mystery, and Hogwarts was full of them. Secret passageways, hidden rooms, ghosts that roamed the halls. But there was one ghost who intrigued him the most, someone no one else seemed to talk about: Y/N.

Fred first noticed her in his third year, late one night after a Quidditch practice. He’d been wandering the corridors with George, trying to avoid Filch, when he saw her. She was standing by a window in one of the more abandoned hallways, her translucent figure barely visible in the moonlight. At first, he thought she was just another one of the castle’s many spirits, but there was something different about her. Something that made him stop in his tracks.

Her eyes were soft, melancholic, and she wore an old Hogwarts uniform, but her presence wasn’t the cold, eerie sensation of the other ghosts. She was more... alive, somehow. Fred couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, and in that moment, he felt something tug at his heart. Love at first sight, if you could call it that.

"Oi, Fred, you comin’?" George had whispered, nudging him. But Fred barely heard him, his eyes fixed on the girl by the window. As the weeks passed, Fred found himself wandering that hallway more often, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. And he did. Almost every night, he saw her drifting through the castle, sometimes reading in the library, sometimes sitting quietly in an empty classroom. The other students avoided her. Some called her terrifying, whispered stories about how she haunted the corridors, how she had died in the most gruesome way. But Fred didn’t see that. He saw a girl trapped between worlds, someone with a story untold. And every time their eyes met, he felt that same pull.

Eventually, Fred worked up the courage to approach her. One night, as she hovered near the Gryffindor common room, he slipped away from his friends and quietly made his way over.

“You always seem a bit lonely, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low but playful.

Her head turned, and for the first time, he saw her smile. It was small, faint, but it was enough.

“I suppose I am,” she replied, her voice like a soft echo.

That was how it started. Night after night, Fred would seek her out, and Y/N would be there, waiting. She told him stories of her life at Hogwarts, how she had been a seventh-year student many decades ago. How she had died, her life cut tragically short before she even had a chance to leave the castle. Fred listened, enchanted by her every word. He never saw her as the fearsome ghost others whispered about. To him, she was the most beautiful thing in Hogwarts, with a heart full of sorrow and a spirit that never truly dimmed. He fell harder and harder each day, his love for her growing, even though she was no longer alive.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” she asked him one night, as they sat in the shadow of a forgotten staircase.

“Afraid? Not a chance,” Fred grinned, leaning back. “You’re the best thing about this place.”

Y/N gave him that soft, bittersweet smile, and for a moment, Fred swore he could feel her hand brush against his, even though she was no more than a wisp of air.

The years went by, and Fred never tired of her. His feelings for her deepened, and even when the war against Voldemort darkened the skies, his thoughts were always drawn to her. She was his secret, his comfort, the one person who saw him for who he truly was, beyond the jokes and the pranks. But then came the Battle of Hogwarts. The walls shook with the sounds of spells and screams, and Fred fought alongside his friends and family, never knowing that the end was so near. In the chaos, he barely had a chance to think of her, but in the final moments, when the world went dark, she was the last thing on his mind.When Fred opened his eyes again, the pain was gone. The castle was eerily silent, and he felt... light. Confused, he looked around, realizing that he was standing in the same hallway where he had first seen her all those years ago. And then, she appeared.

Y/N, just as he had always known her, standing a few feet away, her eyes filled with something he hadn’t seen before—hope.

“Fred...” she whispered, her voice trembling.He took a step toward her, his heart swelling with the realization of what had happened. He was no longer alive, but somehow, he didn’t feel afraid.

“You waited for me,” he said, his voice soft.

“I told you I was lonely,” she replied, smiling through her tears. Fred closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out instinctively. And this time, when his fingers brushed hers, he felt it. Solid, real. For the first time since they had met, they were no longer separated by life and death.

“I’m here now,” he whispered, pulling her close. “And I’m never leaving you.”

The world around them faded, and all that was left was the two of them, together at last. Finally free, finally whole.