Oh My Goodness! Thank You Beautiful People For 2.7k! I Just Love This Little Space And Im So Thankful

The devil works hard but fanfic writers work harder

Ps. Y’all are amazing and the most creative writers ❤︎. keep up the amazing work ✩

today I offer you this meme:

you’ve gotta be kitten me// [n.l.] prologue

summary: Neville decides to be a good friend, and finds himself volunteering to petsit Hermione’s cat while her and Ron go on their honeymoon. After Crookshanks manages to get into Neville’s greenhouse, he finds himself searching for a veterinarian to help the poor kitty with tummy problems. {Muggle!Reader}

warnings: sick kitty, mentions of animal hospital setting, fem!reader

word count: 700+

A/N: Okay so this definitely took way longer than I hoped it would. I live in Texas, so we have been roughing it the last week because of the storm. Hopefully ya’ll enjoy this intro to what I am hoping will be a 2-3 part series coming soon. I’m not sure when the next part will come, but I promise I will try my best to make it worth the wait. :)

“Neville, if you need anything at all just call us using the hotel number on the fridge or call Molly and she can help you figure out what to do. Oh, and the normal cat-sitter’s number is on the fridge if you have anything come up at work or-”

“Hermione, Crookshanks and I will be fine! I can tell he is willing to be a perfectly behaved chap for his favorite Uncle!” Crookshanks let out a less than enthusiastic meow at Neville’s assumption, clearly unhappy with whatever the man was implying.

Hermione let out a groan but was not able to say much more as Ron was pulling her towards the fireplace so they could floo to their honeymoon destination.

“ ’Mione, sweetheart, the cat will be fine with Neville. Now, let’s go before you start experiencing withdrawal over the damn thing!” Ron let out a forced smile, threw the powder into the fireplace, and pulled his bride forward. They disappeared in a cloud of smoke, causing Neville to let out a cough.

“Well, I guess it’s just me and you now, eh?” The cat blinked once, twice, then let out a hiss and strutted away. “Woah bud, don’t get too attached to me, now...”

*****

For the last 24 hours, Neville felt as if he had been walking on eggshells; If he sipped his tea too loudly, the cat would hiss. If he sneezed, two piercing yellowish eyes were trained on him. The only relief he had obtained came from his 8 hours spent at work which were now, to the brunette’s disappointment, coming to an end.

“Crookshanks? Ya still alive mate?” Neville dropped his keys into the tray next to his apartment door and slipped off his loafers.

When he rounded the corner, he felt his heart and lungs drop into his stomach. There lay Crookshanks, sprawled out on the carpet and seemingly having what one could only compare to as a total acid trip. The poor kitten’s eyes were big as saucers, drool was spilling onto the carpet, and his stubby little legs kept rubbing across the floor as if to recreate human touch.

“Bloody’ell, why’s it always gotta be me?” Neville slipped his loafers back on, and quietly managed to pull the cat carrier Hermione left behind from within his closet. “C’mere bud, I promise it’ll be a short ride-”

MREOW.

Long red scratches littered Neville’s left hand, and a surprisingly high whimper left his mouth. “So, I am guessin’ you aren’t taking it easy on me today?”

*****

After a long battle to convince Crookshanks to enter the cat carrier (during which Neville managed to use an entire bottle of catnip spray), Crookshanks was finally contained. Neville had decided against calling Hermione and instead called their usual cat-sitter to ask what vet to bring the loopy cat to.

“Well, I’ve never taken him to Hermione’s vet before, but I can text you the number. Her clinic is down the road from the Diggory’s house, so it shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“Thanks so much, Anna, I’ll be sure to call you if I need anything else!” 

The clearly unamused teen hung up, and Neville decided it was time to move the carrier into the car. Neville, having never owned a cat, had no idea how to put the carrier into the vehicle safely; As a result, the carrier had been heavily covered in 2 seatbelts that were all but knotted around it.

Throughout the whole drive, Crookshanks meowed nonstop. The cat clearly wasn’t a fan of cars (of course, it may have just been that the car belonged to Neville). When he finally pulled up to the vet, he was surprised at how a place he usually thought of as a location for goodbyes looked so peaceful. An elderly woman holding a small chihuahua sat next to the glass door, and a box of treats labeled “take 1 :)” sat on a small stool nearby. As he stepped through the door with the cat in tow, a woman in scrubs behind the counter turned to greet him.

“Hi sir, how may I help you today?”

Neville’s heart leapt into his chest, and he stammered complete nonsense before settling on the words “the cat ate one of my houseplants”.

“Okay sir, fill out these forms and I will bring you into the exam room shortly.” A warm smile was the cause of Neville’s immediate destruction, as he went red in the face and nodded dumbly.

How in Merlin’s name am I gonna get through this?

this is me trying | s.r

summary // spencer fell in love with you months ago while working on a case. as much as he tried to have boundaries, something about rescuing you etched onto his heart forever. each month, he sends you money to keep you on your feet. but tonight, you need more than a bank deposit.

pairing // spencer reid x fem!victim!reader

genre // angst

rating // mature

word count // 1.9k

warnings // mutual pining, friends (?) to lovers, major character death!, mentions of violent crime, victimization, s*xual assault mention, mention of s*x crimes, mentions of s*x work, medical mention, mention of guns, needle mention, trauma, alcohol/intoxication, drug addiction, overdose, negative self talk/self image, rehab mention, kissing. oh and I barely proofread this. please let me know if i forgot anything.

Spencer was sitting on his couch, calmly sipping on a cup of white wine and settling in to read the novel he had excitedly bought from the bookstore earlier that day. The rain outside spattered against his window while the moonlight glimmered through the curtains. Spencer found himself lost in the book as he sat, finding peace in the story that his mother had read to him a million times before. He had been over the moon to find a vintage copy of it, and he knew if you'd been with him you'd have encouraged him to buy it.

Just as Spencer had reached one of his favorite chapters, there was a small rap at the door. He raised an eyebrow quizzically, setting his mug down onto the coffee table in front of him. He glanced at the gun on his side table, tucking into the waistband of his pants - just in case. The brunette walked to the door and glanced through the peephole, startled to see you standing there. You had your arms wrapped tightly around your body, shaking from the cold rain. Spencer swung the door open hurriedly, his voice cracking as he began to speak.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?"

But before your feet could carry you through the door, you felt yourself falling. Spencer reached out quickly to grab you. Spencer could smell the faintest scent of alcohol on your breath.

"Y/n..."

Spencer had seen wounds more times than he could count. He had seen corpses mangled beyond belief. Human suffering was like an old ghost that haunted his days. But when Spencer looked at you, he could see the pain that was scattered somewhere deep beyond the surface, intertwining itself in the confines of your heart.

"What did you do? Hmm?," Spencer queried softly and kindly, kneeling down to help you to your feet. He pulled you to his side, helping you into his apartment. He kicked the door shut behind him, sitting you down gently on the couch.

He was shocked to see you at his apartment, but he tried not to show it. "Let me get you a glass of water, okay?"

You watched with blurry eyes as Spencer headed into the kitchen. You could see him from the living room. He filled up a glass from the sink and brought it out.

"Tiny little sips," he instructed, hoping you wouldn't get sick.

"Are you mad at me, Spencer? For coming here?"

Spencer looked at you with the deepest compassion in his brown eyes. He shook his head, using his fingers to steady the cup and give you a drink.

__________________________

The minute the unsub hit the floor, Spencer was running over to you. He moved quickly to rip the duct tape off your mouth. It stung, but it didn’t hurt more than what you had already endured over the last fourteen days. You were kicking your feet desperately, as you were unable to move your arms. They were strung over your head. Spencer was breathing heavily, doing his best to untie the ropes. Finally, he was able to unbind you. You fell forward, immediately gripping onto his Kevlar vest. Spencer had just become your hero. He had saved you from a sadist who had kept you captive - that was enough to forge an attachment deep into your psyche. When the medics came over to put you onto the gurney, you refused to let go of Spencer. You dug your hands around the side of his vest, resisting the futile attempts of the emergency medical technicians.

Spencer brought his hands up to yours. “Hey, y/n? What if I came with you? We need you to go to the hospital so you can get checked out and fixed up. Okay?” You refused to speak, just nodding. Spencer smiled warmly, offering to help get you onto the gurney. The medics began to speak to you as they wheeled you out of the abandoned building and into the ambulance, but you couldn’t form words. “Miss y/l/n, can you tell me if you’re in any pain? Do you have any injuries?” You stared up at the lights at the top of the ambulance, reaching out for Spencer’s hand. Nervously, he grabbed your hand. “Miss y/l/n, did the attacker hurt you?” You moved away from the medic, letting out a whimper. Spencer looked at the medic with a slight tinge of annoyance. “I think she just needs some space.”

_______________________________

You opened up your beaten-up old purse and pulled out an envelope. You shoved it against Spencer’s chest. You slurred, standing up wobbly on your feet. “I just w-wanted to give you your money back.” “What?” Spencer said shocked, opening up the envelope and pulling out a few hundred dollar bills.

Spencer had spent days with you in the hospital. He was the only one you would speak to. He collected information from you, stayed during your rape kit, and even stayed up all night with you.

He had gotten to know all your favorite things. He found out that you had been on the streets since you were a preteen and learned the intricate details of your trauma. But, he also learned also that you loved classical literature and mathematics.

Through all of this, you and Spencer had become extremely close. Spencer, being the good man that he was, offered to meet you every Sunday. He would buy you a warm breakfast and give you enough money to make it through the week without having to turn tricks.

Spencer cherished those moments, watching you with twinkling eyes as you devoured your only hot breakfast of the week. Sometimes, you would grin, holding out your fork for Spencer to take a bite of your banana pancakes. In return, Spencer would take part of his blueberry pancakes and place them onto your plate. It had been over six months since he rescued you. You had forged a beautiful friendship - full of laughter and sharing of the darkest parts of yourselves.

But now, you stood before him, fully prepared to push him away forever. “I’m not your charity case, S-Spencer.” You wobbled toward the doorway and Spencer sped up to grab you gently. He spun you around and you looked into his eyes, unable to hide the tears brimming in your waterline.

“Is that what you think you are to me, y/n?” You pushed him away gently. “That’s what I know that I am.”

As he held your wrists gently in his hands, he turned your arms palm up. On the inside of your elbows, he saw fresh marks - a clear indication that you were using again. “Y/n…”

“What?! You’re shocked?! You’re shocked that I’m fucking getting high again? That I’m out there on my back again?!” You chuckled sarcastically. “Some fucking profiler you are.” Spencer felt his heart hammering in his chest. Tears were caught in the center of his throat, but he pushed them down. “Please, don’t go. Stay here.”

“Why? Are you going to pay me? I charge by the night now, you know.” The words spilled from your mouth, dripping with venom. The truth was that you abhorred the woman you saw in the mirror. You felt that you would never be good enough for Spencer - the beautiful genius with a heart of gold.

“Because I care about you, okay?”

The room fell silent. Spencer dropped your wrists and you recoiled just slightly. “You don’t mean that,” you decided, your voice coming out just a decibel above a whisper. He reached out and touched your cheek, one of your tears splashing against his fingertips. “I do. I want to help you get better, y/n. Please.”

The room was silent as Spencer looked at the track marks on your arms again. He couldn’t tear himself away from the sight. Knowing you had relapsed, despite everything, tore his heart to bits. Before he could help it, tears began to slide down his face. “Come sit on the couch for a bit, yeah?” You nodded, letting Spencer guide you back over to his sofa. He pulled you close to him, pulling the blanket around both of you.

“I’m...I’m scared, Spencer. But please don’t cry, not on account of me. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes fixated on his soft, plush lips. You leaned forward, letting your lips meet his. Spencer had waited for this moment for months, as had you. But yet it still came as a shock that it was actually happening. Spencer had told himself you were friends and nothing more. He had sworn up and down to Hotch, Morgan, and Garcia that it was completely professional. He hesitated for a moment before leaning in to the kiss, bringing his hands down to cup your face. Slowly, you scooted forward, reaching for his belt buckle.

Spencer quickly moved to place his hand on yours. “No, no, none of that. I don’t want that.”

It was unusual for you. You had never met a man who just wanted to kiss you, and nothing more. “Just...just kisses?” Spencer smiled, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just kisses.”

“I’ve w-wanted to kiss you for a long time, Spence,” you admitted, lacing your hands in his.

“Y/n?”

“Will you get help? Please.”

“I...I don’t know anything else, Spencer. This is all I’ve ever been...I don’t feel worth--” Spencer shut you up with a kiss, pulling apart to press his forehead to yours. “You are worth everything, do you hear me? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to go away, Spencer. I...I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have kissed you. I have to go.” “I’ll visit you every single day.” “I’m...I have to go, Spencer.”

You stood up fast this time, stumbling as you rushed toward the door. Spencer moved as quick as he could but you were out the door, leaving him standing on the porch. He watched as you rushed off into the rain. “Y/n!”

The rain splattered loudly against the roof, but Spencer continued to call out to you. “Y/n!” It was to no avail. You were gone, leaving the Good Doctor alone on his porch, praying for a miracle to a God he didn’t even believe existed.

_________________________ The next day, Spencer sat down at the round table, sipping on a strong cup of coffee. The rest of the room was eerily silent, avoiding eye contact with him. “What?” He snapped, acknowledging the elephant in the room.

“Y/n Y/l/n…,” JJ began, sliding a folder across the table to Spencer. “We got the alert, since she was a victim.” “Was? You said was…” He mumbled, flipping open the folder. His coffee cup landed with a clatter onto the table, liquid splashing onto the floor. Garcia moved quickly to grab it as Spencer stared at the images in front of him. “I’m sorry, man. OD,” Morgan said. “I know you had been helping her through some stuff. We can’t find any loved ones….” The team had no idea just how much he’d helped you. He left everyone standing there confused as he rushed out of the room, getting himself into the bathroom just in time to slide down the wall, loud sobs bursting from his lungs. “Kid?” Derek’s voice came calling as the door opened. “Hey…” Derek knelt down, looking at Spencer as he cried. “Oh man...don’t tell me...Reid…”

“I loved her, Derek, I loved her.” Derek pulled him into a hug, mimicking that moment so many months ago when you’d refused to leave Spencer’s arms.

____________________ criminal minds and/or spencer reid taglist: @hufflepuffhaze @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @k-k0129 @awritingtree @ssavanessa22 *Please fill out the form in my navigation to be added to my taglist!*

George Weasley in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

i love those dorks so much it hurts

the boy who has everything// [f.w.]

Summary: Fred and you have been secretly going steady since the end of your fifth year. Now that he and George are making their grand exit to follow their dreams, you are struggling to come up with the perfect parting gift.

Inspired by: https://open.spotify.com/track/37hblhCnC5YzhDQH58Rgpi?si=0EISnLcTRE2mctlIXNObTA

Warnings: Angst, Malfoy!Reader, difficult home life, neglect mentioned

A/N: Currently going through a bit of a writers block that definitely came from school, but I thought something to do with my fav boy would help clear my mind. Just want some input from ya’ll, would you be interested in me starting to take requests? Also, low-key miss having mutuals before I decided to completely start over lol. Also, why does ‘each other’ look wrong to me? Like I am a native English speaker but the words just like sus...

Word Count: 2.2k

    The numerous differences between your childhood and your boyfriend’s were anything but subtle.

    Growing up, you felt as if you were a puppet being dangled for the world to see. Your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was a complex woman; She obviously loved you very much. She held you, but never longer than it took to keep your tears at bay. Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, was your father in blood only. His disdain for your lack of enthusiasm regarding blood purity was obvious. He had never once in your 18 years on Earth said ‘I love you’, or even a simple ‘I’m proud of you’. Until the day came where you were willing to take the dark mark and fight on behalf of Lord Voldemort, you would be nothing in your parents’ eyes besides a test child before Draco’s birth.

    Now, from what Fred had told you, his childhood was seemingly filled with sunshine and rainbows. He spent his summers wading in the pond near the Burrow, listening to the chirp of crickets and giggles of his numerous siblings. The entire family was open about showing their love in words and actions. Molly and Arthur, despite not being particularly rich, would give the clothes off their backs if it meant their children would never have to experience fear in any capacity. Fred always had a playmate, and never did he have to go through life fearing being expelled from the family home for his opinions.

    In the simplest of terms, Fred and you were complete opposites. Your similarities were found in the small things; the way you both were headstrong and loyal, and most of all...

   You both despised Filch. Fred had saved your butt from being caught in the halls after dark at the beginning of 5th year. He had decided then and there that despite the fact that you were in a different house, you simply had to be more than another member of the besmirched sacred twenty-eight. He knew from the second you were taking his outstretched hand in the dimly lit corridors that no matter what, you both were destined to be in each others’ lives. As he led you down a secret passage to the sound of Mrs. Norris’ eardrum-rattling mewls, you knew that the idea that he was just another impoverished ginger from the Weasley family was anything but true. Despite all the odds, that night was what laid down the foundations for you and Fred to become more than just another member of the family feud.

    Going on almost 2 years later, and your relationship had shifted from what was a slightly odd friendship to an unexpected relationship. Fred and George were now planning their grand escape for sometime after the Easter holidays, but you had a totally different date on your mind; April 1st.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    “Oi, Weasley! You are a whole 42 seconds late!” You giggled, and Fred simply chuckled before dropping his books next to yours.

    It was rare for Fred to be on time, but he always made an effort (and usually succeeded) for you. Due to your obvious difference in house loyalty, the easiest way you found to spend time together was to carve out 2 afternoons each week to just bask in each others’ presence. Every Monday and Friday (unless there was a quidditch match), you would meet Fred in a secluded corner of the courtyard. The two of you would goof around study, snack on some treats from Honeydukes, or simply lie back and enjoy the sunset while talking about whatever came up.

    “So, anything big happen today, love?” Fred pecked you on the cheek quickly before dropping his head on your shoulder.

    “Just the usual. Apparently, my mother has finally given up on sending me howlers to come home.”

    “Y/N, mum already said she would love for you to come and stay with us during the holidays. You could come get a feel for the family over the holidays next week, and you would finally get to see what the Weasley-Twin-Birthday-Bonanza is like!”

    “You mean watch your aunt call you George for a whole evening while asking why you aren’t a prefect? Oh, I am so in.” The ginger made a face of mock offense while dramatically huffing into the shoulder of your robes. “That reminds me, will you finally cave and tell me what you want for your birthday?”

    “Love, I don’t want anything at all. Having my gal be there for the big one-eight is more than I could ever ask for.”

    Money was no issue; Your mother had continued sending you a small allowance, most likely in the hopes that it would sway you to ‘do the right thing’. Fred had always made an effort to get you a new charm for your bracelet for your birthday, which most likely cost him a few weeks in sales, so of course you wanted to return the favor and find the perfect gift. Last year, you had crocheted him a plush lion wearing a Gryffindor-themed scarf and he had loved it. For some reason, though, you couldn’t help but feel like you needed to find him something bigger and better for his final birthday as a Hogwarts student.

    “If you say so, Fred. Just don’t complain when you open my gift and it’s a pair of socks embroidered with little kittens.” Fred simply smiled and grabbed your hand that was previously tapping on the edge of your potions textbook.

    “I’ll wear them with pride.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    “Ginny, please tell me you have some amazing idea for a gift that I haven’t thought of....” Ginny grimaced as you sunk into the wooden chair, obviously aware that this meeting you had called in the library wasn’t just to give her some advice in terms of course selection.

    “Well... um... maybe you could bring him some muggle joke products? He really gets quite a kick out of them.” The apples of Ginny’s round cheeks became rosy, and she awkwardly rubbed at the back of her neck. “I mean, no offense, but couldn’t you just ask him?”

    “I tried that already. At this rate, he will be turning 19 before I figure out what to get him...” A puff of air escaped your chapped lips, and you once again found yourself nibbling on them in thought.

    “Well, here you are, big sis! Trying to figure out a gift for your git of a boyfriend?” Draco’s familiar greasy head popped out from behind the shelf before the young wizard marched up to you directly. “Do us all a favor, give him a little ‘life sans Y/N’... Merlin knows his parents probably don’t want a child of dark lord sympathizers at their shack anyways.”

    “Shut up, Draco...” Before Ginny could attempt to soothe your anger, you had up and left the room.

    “Psh, serves her right anyways...” A resounding smack was heard as Ginny wacked the platinum-headed goon on the back with the heaviest textbook lying nearby.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    It wasn’t like doubt surrounding your relationship had never been an issue before. You often found yourself wondering if your company was putting Fred in danger, especially considering the current climate surrounding the resurgence in death eater activity. Fred had always tried to quell your worries, but sweet words and gentle kisses could only do so much. You and Fred knew how you both felt towards each other, but it seemed like the world was against you some days.

    Maybe Draco is right, he could get out of here and find a nice girl with normal parents to settle down with. After all, who wants to be known as the significant other of a Malfoy?

    A single tear slipped out of the corner of your eye, but you quickly dabbed it away with the edge of your sleeve to avoid grabbing attention from any of your housemates. The only perk you found that happened to come with being sorted into Slytherin like the rest of your family was that it was far enough away that you knew Fred wouldn’t find out if you spent any time sulking about your common room. For once, the slam of the heavy dungeon doors brought you comfort instead of a nagging chill.

    Fred isn’t like me. He has everything he could ever want... All I do is create more stress for him.

    Ignoring the harsh gaze of your housemates, you slipped into your dorm and found yourself slinking to bed without so much as slipping off your robes. Pulling the emerald comforters over your head, you let yourself slip into a restless sleep.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    It was finally the day before the Easter holidays, and Hogwarts was more alive than ever. Young couples were spending their last day on campus wandering the corridors, groups of friends sat laughing and promising to write letters on what they each planned to bring back, and even some people that swore they were enemies seemed to be acting more hospitable. It must’ve been nice to not be spending the morning trying to calm your beating heart and convincing yourself that what you are doing isn’t wrong.

    “Hey Lovey! Have you finished packing yet?”

    “Well... not exactly, Freddie.” Fred’s face dropped, and he took your hand in his.

    “Is this about my aunt? I promise you won’t even have to say more than a simple ‘hello’ to her.” The mere mention of Fred’s Auntie Muriel almost cracked your tough exterior.

    “I can’t come home with you, Freddie. There is no way your family wants to spend their holiday break with the daughter of Lucius Malfoy. Look, I mean... here’s your gift. Just please promise to wait till you get to the station to open it.”

    Fred opened his mouth to argue, but you had already turned away as to avoid him seeing hot tears trail down your cheeks. You would have to be insane to go and willingly spend your holiday alone in the Malfoy Manor. There would be no family meals, especially now that all your parent’s energy went towards providing shelter for the death eaters. As you stumbled away to make your way back to your dorm to finish packing, Fred’s warm hand grasped your shoulder.

    “Please. Y/N, all I want is to be able to spend every day of this holiday mucking about with you. I know why you want to go home, and I’m telling you as your boyfriend and best friend to not do it. Just please, grant me a birthday wish... come home with me.”

    Fred drew you into his chest, and you found yourself clutching onto his striped button-up as if it would save your life. His larger hands rubbed across your back, and he pressed a small kiss on the top of your head.

    “Are you really sure about this, Fred? I wouldn’t want to make your mum and dad uncomfortable, or even your older brothers for that matter.”

    “Y/N, my love, the light of my life, just come home. If you can manage to get George to like you more than he likes me, I promise you the rest of my family will love you.” His signature smirk spread on his freckled face, and he pressed a quick peck on the tip of your nose.

    “Now, let’s go get you packed, Y/N.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

    “Oi, Fred, what’s in the box?” George elbowed his brother while somewhat attempting to be quiet. The train ride was almost over, and you had resorted to using the seat opposite to the twins as a temporary napping spot.

    “I nearly forgot I had it on me to be quite honest. Do you think I should open it even though she is coming with us?”

    “She said to open it at the station, but we are obviously past that point, so please just open it!” George bounced in his seat, and Fred gave in to temptation. He unwrapped the ribbon holding the small box shut, opened the lid, and discovered a dainty chain with a circular pendant hanging on the end.

    “Is that a size reference for your-”

    “George! Shut up, you dimwit. I think it might be a mirror-glass type thing, but I genuinely have no idea...”

    “Freddie, bring it to your eye and look through it.” The twins both jumped as you rolled over, clearly no longer asleep.

    Fred brought the pendant to his right eye, squinted, and his immediate smile couldn’t be contained. When held at the right distance, he could see a small picture of you and him from your first date at Hogsmeade. He was much more lanky and awkward looking, and you were almost matched in height. The smile you both shared in the photo warmed his heart to no end, and Fred found himself having to gather his emotions from the memories he had of that day. 

    The ginger all but leapt to your side of the cart, and he wrapped his arm around your still-sleepy figure. He squeezed you tightly to his side before leaning in to whisper something in your ear without allowing George to hear.

    “It’s perfect, my love.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

~Post-fic A/N: I hope this was a good read for you guys! I am definitely on the verge of passing out, but proofreading is superior to sleep (jk). Anyways, if anything comes to mind, don’t hesitate to reach out or send in an ask! I love interacting with you guys, even if it is just a brief hello! :) ~

The Suite Life of Zack & Cody, Lost In Translation (S02E23)