#i saw george's post and had to drop everything and write this

[writing-wh0re]

AAAAH, I just saw you posting your prompts and your requests are open. I don’t know if you write them together or individually, but if you can (or if you can’t but you can write for one of them), could you do Fred and George with a Smutty prompt #3?

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley

Word Count: 6,167 - I had so much fun writing this

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Female Performing Oral, Daddy Kink, Slight Choking Kink, Slight Slapping Kink (if you squint), Praise Kink, Slight Degration, Slight Breeding Kink, Spanking Kink. Slight cum kink. Use of pet names.

Basically its a very kinky smut and there's actually plot - look at me go.

A/n: Sorry I have been inactive, life am I right? But I'm getting a desk setup completed so I will be more fequent! I hope. I apologise for this being long, but I truly had so much fun writing this request. My love for the twins is reigniting. I will be fixing up my taglist as well / making a library blog for posts. I have written this smut differently to how I have in the past, let me know if you'd like a part 2!

Merry Christmas x

| | | |

Hogwarts was quiet the closer it got to Christmas, snow was gently falling and the gusts of wind were freezing. Most students went home for Christmas but this year was different for you. Your parents had decided to take a trip to get away from the wizarding world for a few months with no real timeline of coming back, it was something that shocked you but also didn’t surprise you. 

Fred and George had decided to not rush home right away, debating on whether or not to ask you to join them at the Weasley house for Christmas, not really sure of what your relationship was, if it was anything other than lust and desire. 

“You can’t sit alone in the common room for weeks, it’s Christmas.” George grumbled slouching down on the couch beside you.

“I’ll be fine, honestly, I have so many books I can read.” You gestured to the pile of books on the table that you had acquired from the library. “You two should head home, I’m almost certain your mum has made your favourite foods.” 

Fred smiles at the mention of his mum and her tradition of making something for everyone to enjoy. 

“You can come with us, we have a spare room and I’m sure mum would be overjoyed to finally meet our best friend.” 

Best friend

Although not untrue the word still seemed to pang your heart with disappointment. An on and off hook up to them doesn’t mean the same thing it does to you and that was something you were coming to terms with. 

Fred and George sensed the hesitation on you after Fred had dropped the best friend title, it was something they were yet to discuss with you, were you just best friends who fooled around? Or were you also wanting something more that you could all figure out together over time. 

“I don’t want to impose, you’ll have such a full house, isn’t Bill in the guest room this year?” 

George smirks, you do listen to every word they say. 

“What Freddie is saying is there will be a spare bed somewhere, we have two in our room and the couch downstairs, I’m sure something can be sorted.” 

“Mum already thinks you’re coming so hurry up and pack your things.” 

Your mouth falls open at Fred’s revelation, your eyes flick to George who smirks. 

“Go on, we leave in fifteen minutes.”

“I feel like there wasn’t much of a choice in this matter.” 

The twins chuckle as you pack your things up and run up to your dorm, searching your room for a bag to pack things into you. 

You quickly rush out of your dorm, running into the twins as you look up at them. Their eyes wander your face, a blush creeping up your neck. 

You look down at the floor, before George places his hand under your chin.

“Everything okay baby?”

Baby. 

You weren't quite sure how a simple nickname could make your stomach flip and your body tingle, but it did, especially coming for George and Fred. 

“Uh, um.” Your mind is foggy, unsure what you were originally rushing for. The twins smirk, sharing a quick look before your face lights up, having remembered what you wanted to ask. 

“How long are we gone for?”

“We will be coming back the week before term starts.”

“But we can come back earlier if you’d like.” 

“So three weeks?”

The twins nod as you spin and walk back into your dorm, them following behind you. You walk back and forth from your closet to your bed, where the twins have decided to lounge while you pack. Finding outfits is easy, finding lingerie works out to be a little harder under the gaze of the men on your bed. 

You quickly open your dresser draw, looking over the various colours of lace and matching sets. Quickly you grab a hand full and shove it into your bag, closing your dresser and zipping the bag closed. 

“Darling, you dropped something.” George whispers, moving past you and bending down to pick up your dark red G-string, blush creeps up your face, your stomach filling with butterflies as George passes the material to Fred who simply places it in your bag and rezips it. 

Your mind continues to rush, a million thoughts racing through your brain as the twins share a smirk before grabbing your bag from the bed. 

“C’mon love.” Fred holds your bag as he walks out of your dorm, George follows closely behind his eyes looking you up and down, sending a swift wink your way before holding his hand out, an invitation to take his. Which you do, almost embarrassingly fast. 

George squeezes your hand and pulls you along with him to follow Fred. 

| | | | 

After a few days at the Weasley home, you started to feel settled and a part of the family. Harry had joined the household on the same day as you, making you feel not so alone in the imposing feeling. No one was surprised to see you, they were excited to have another friend along for the celebration. Molly had made you feel so at home, hugging you when you first arrived, a feeling of warmth and comfort washing over you within her embrace. 

Over the past few days, Molly had shown you how to bake a few of her signature recipes, she had even gone as far as asking what your favourite food was, setting herself a goal of creating it for you come Christmas Eve. 

Being one day out from Christmas, Molly didn’t want to be disturbed in the kitchen, she needed her space and stated that everyone should go outside to play a friendly game of Quidditch, she emphasised the word ‘friendly’ mainly at the twins. 

So you sat on your broom beside Harry, waiting for everyone who was playing to fly into the air. 

“Have you played before?” Harry asks curiously, not knowing much about you, himself being two years younger. 

“Yeah, but I'm definitely not a pro.” You laugh as Harry smiles, looking out at the Weasley family. 

“I think they’re going to kick our ass.” 

“Oh without a doubt.” 

You and Harry share a smile, your eyes wandering to the golden ball, clearly not the shiny golden snitch but definitely close. The quaffle and bludgers fly through the air with a woosh sound, everyone going into game mode. You and Harry nod at each other, both taking the role of seekers before rushing into the air in search of the ‘snitch’. 

Within a matter of seconds the twins are behind you, chasing after you. You fly past the duo, diving down behind Harry who seems to have his eye on the golden ball. You quickly look over your shoulder, the twins hot on your ass. You notice the golden ball dancing between the twins. A smirk dances across your lips as you fly up higher just outside of the quidditch pitch, pulling up on your broom as the twins fly past you. They stop and look back at you as you flash them your bare tits. Both of them go wide eyed as you hold the golden ball between your hands, pulling your sweater back down. 

“Later losers” 

You turn your broom around, wiggling your ass as you dive down to the grass. 

“We won!” You scream, Ginny, Bill and Ron rush down to you, pulling you into a hug and cheering for your team as the rest of the players come to the ground. 

You make brief eye contact with the twins, a darkness in their eyes but clapping for your victory nonetheless. 

“Lunch is ready! C’mon darlings before the storm comes.” Molly gestures for everyone to come inside as you opt to help clean the game up, the twins staying behind with you. 

You bend down to pick up the spare brooms, your ass brushing against George’s crotch, your eyes locking onto Fred and sending him a wink. 

Fred stands in front of you, shielding you from the view of the house, George holding your hips, pulling you against his chest. Fred caresses your cheek, his head shaking. 

“Do that one more time and we’ll fuck you right here in front of everyone.” 

Your breathing hitches, your eyes never leaving Fred as he hooks one finger into the collar of your sweater, looking down at your bare tits. George slips one hand up into your sweater, groping your boob as you whimper, a shiver runs over your body at his cold finger tips. The fear of getting caught creeps up, a slight wetness running to your core. Fred tilts your head to look up at him, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly. 

The twins smirk pulling away from you like nothing happened and begin grabbing the game equipment. 

They walk towards the home, not once turning back to look at you. Thunder rumbles through the sky as you quickly rush inside, not wanting to be left out in the oncoming storm. 

“There you are sweet girl, would you prefer peach or lemon tea?” Molly asks sweetly, smiling at you before worry washes over her. Molly places her hands on your cheeks and a slight frown on her face. 

“Y/n, honey you look flushed, are you okay?”

You heart hammers in your chest, those fucking twins. 

“I’m okay Molly, the wind just gets to me sometimes.” You smile, reassuring her as she pulls you into a warm embrace. You make eye contact with the twins, smug smirks on their face. 

“You tell me if you need anything, now, lemon or peach?” 

You nod at Molly, deciding on lemon tea before squeezing in between Fred and George at the table, conveniently the only spot left. You spin the pasta around the fork, thankful for a warm meal. Your body tenses slightly, feeling both Fred and George place a hand on your thighs. Both of them grab and squeeze the flesh, involuntarily rocking your hips at their touch. You quickly catch yourself, continuing to eat while the twins trace shapes and grip your skin. 

| | | | 

Not much continued to happen yesterday and today had mainly been taken up by Ginny and Molly asking for help with wrapping gifts, a cheeky idea coming into your mind as you pocketed a bit of red ribbon. 

Tonight was the big Christmas Eve feast, Mr Weasley had finished work early and everyone was told, multiple times, that dinner would be served at 7pm, not a minute over. Molly hadn’t made lunch today, wanting everyone to wait with anticipation for her multitude of amazing dishes, a favourite created for everyone in the home, including yourself and Harry. You had simply asked for baked honey carrots, which judging by the smell of honey filling the home, Molly had delivered. 

“Thank you girls, go get comfy while I finish up dinner.” Molly smiled, kissing Ginny’s head before ushering us away from the table so she could set it accordingly. 

“I’m going for a quick shower.” Ginny states rushing up the stairs in front of you. You duck into the twins room, looking over George’s messy bed and Fred’s mattress on the floor, thankful that you could share a room with them but lucky enough to score Fred’s bed. 

“Mum loves you.” I jump slightly at George's words not noticing him behind me. I smile, falling backwards on Fred’s bed. 

“I love her, she feels like home when she hugs you.” I whisper as George hums in agreement. 

Fred walks into the room, his hair dripping and a towel around his waist. I sit up slightly, resting on my elbows, my eyes shamelessly dragging over his toned body. 

“My eyes are here baby.” 

That fucking nickname.

“Oh I’m well aware.” I whisper, looking over at George quickly. “Remind me, do you look like that?” 

George smirks, pulling his shirt over his head, his body just as toned as Fred’s. 

I bite my lip, looking between the two shirtless twins. 

“Noted.” 

Fred locks the door behind him, resting against it. George stands from his bed, nodding at his brother before pulling me closer to the edge by my ankles.

“We’re sick of this game love.” 

“We know you want us.”

“Fuck, we want you.”

“That shit you pulled during the game.”

“Dangerous.”

“Slutty.”

“Showing off what’s ours to the whole family.” 

My breath hitches at their words, looking up at both of them towering over me on the bed. 

“I’m yours?”

The twins smirk, George leans down, his thumb brushing against my lip. 

“Should we remind you?”

“It’s been a long time, baby.”

“We forget what you feel like.”

“Sound like.” 

They emphasise their words by groping at your body. Your body tingles, wetness pooling between your thighs. 

Fred feels your pocket, pulling out the red ribbon with a smile. George smirks, tilting his head at me. 

“Are you our Christmas gift?” 

You open and close your mouth, simply nodding as they chuckle. 

“Don’t be shy, baby.”

“Yes.” You whisper, watching their every move. 

George smiles, leaning down and pulling you up from the bed, your chest against his, your back against Fred’s. 

“How lucky are we Freddie.” 

“Extremely.” Fred whispers, his hands gripping your ass. 

George leans down to your lips, his lips hovering over mine, your breath mixing as my eyes flick from his to his lips. 

“Please.” You whimper. 

George closes the distance between you, your lips moulding against each other. Fred kisses along your neck and shoulder, sucking on your weak spot as you moan into George’s mouth, allowing for his tongue to twirl with yours. 

“Be quiet baby.” George whispers as Fred captures your lips, his kiss just as soft as George, savouring every swipe of your tongue against each other. George’s hands slip under your sweater, a groan falling from his lips at your lack of bra, twisting your nipples. 

“Fuck daddy.” You whisper, both of the twins stopping briefly, as George grabs your hair pulling your face to him. 

“Say that again.”

“Daddy.” You whimper, your lips pouting, Fred moans, his hands spanking your ass.

“We’re going to ruin you.” 

Before anything more can happen you hear Molly shout up the stairs, letting you know dinner is served. 

“Fuck.” The three of you say in unison, the boys pull away from your body. Fred rushes around the room for clothing as George puts his sweater back on. 

George smirks at you, tapping your ass and nodding towards your hair. 

“Might want to fix that baby.”

“Don’t want everyone to know you’re our little slut.” Fred winks, both of them slipping out of the room, their footsteps bouncing down the stairs. 

Your fingers brush against your lips, a slight tingle against the flesh from their kisses. A smirk forming on your face, thankful for the last few minutes, a step in the direction you crave. 

After you fix your hair,you quickly bounce down the stairs, thankful you're not the last one as Harry and Ron rush in behind you.  

“Sit, sit dear.” Molly gestures to the space across from the twins, next to Ginny and Harry. You quickly sit as Molly places the last dish on the table. The house smells amazing, a mix of spices and hints of firewood from the stove. 

“Merry Christmas, I love all of you.” Molly smiles, kissing Arthur. “Including you two.” Molly gestures to Harry and yourself as you knock his shoulder, smiling at him. “Please, eat.” 

No one waits for Molly to say it twice, everyone serving themselves. George serves you a pile of honey carrots and Fred places a few roasted potatoes on your plate before continuing to serve themselves. A soft smile falls on your lips, the simple domestic gesture filling your heart, maybe this could work. 

Everyone is quiet while enjoying Molly’s food, the sound of knives and forks clicking together. You catch Molly’s eye as she enjoys watching her family sharing dinner together, only having this occur a few times within the year. Molly catches your eye and winks at you, scrunching her nose and smiling at you before taking a sip out of her wine glass. You smile back at Molly, a warmth washing over you at the small interaction. Your eyes flick to the twins in front of you, both of them almost finished with their meal. A cheeky thought pops into your mind as you shuffle on your seat slightly, dragging your foot up George’s leg. His eyes lock onto yours, he nudges Fred inconspicuously to get his attention before sitting back in his chair, his legs spreading wider as his older brother looks down at the chair quickly. You press your foot into George’s crotch softly noticing his body tense as Fred shakes his head, grabbing his cup and tipping the liquid into his mouth. You drop your foot from George and move it to Fred, not wanting him to feel left out. Fred grabs his napkin, wiping his mouth as he looks over at George and nods. A wordless conversation shared between the two as George smirks. 

“So Y/n and Harry, what subjects are you looking forward to most next year?” Molly asks, butterflies flip in your stomach, feeling like Molly caught you. You quickly drop your foot from Fred causing him to chuckle slightly, George takes a sip from his glass hiding his smirk at your reaction. 

“Defence against the dark arts, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.” Harry states, causing a small chuckle to fill the air. 

“And Y/n?” Molly smiles. 

“Potions, I’m excited to create a few remedies for different conditions but also to help these two-” You quickly gesture to Fred and George who go wide eyed, you know Molly and Arthur don’t know about their ‘jokes’ yet but why not keep them on their toes. “With passing the subject. You know they don’t stir their cauldrons, they just expect it to work when you throw things into it.” 

Molly and Arthur chuckle, a smug smirk on your face at the panic you just gave the twins. 

“Oh that explains why their grades for positions are so high, we have you to thank.” Arthur chuckles as you nod, smiling at him. Little does he know, you have them to thank for your grades. 

You pick up your glass, taking a sip of the cinnamon eggnog, freshly made as Molly questions her kids about what they’re most looking forward to. You only half listen, your mind occupied by the pair of redheads in front of you, your mind filled with ideas on what you want to do to them and them to you. Thankfully for such a great break. 

| | | | 

The night flew by, Molly handed out one gift to her kids, including yourself and Harry. Molly stated it was something to wear for Christmas day breakfast and to not fuss over opening one present early. She asked everyone to open them at the sametime, to which you did and found yourself with a handmade sweater with your first initial on the front, everyone had one. You held the fabric close to yourself, knowing you would hold onto this for the rest of your life. 

Fred and George hadn’t spoken to you since dinner, opting to hangout with their brothers and Harry while you and Ginny gossiped on the couch. Ginny was confiding in you about her crush on Harry and how Dean had been sending her letters since he left for break. You hadn’t noticed when the room dwindled down to just yourself, Ginny and Harry. Upon noticing and remembering what Ginny had said, you excused yourself, leaving the two of them alone which caused Ginny’s cheeks to heat with a rosy blush. 

You quickly went up the staircase, noticing how much quieter the house was the further you climbed. You slip into the twins room, hearing soft snores, noticing Fred’s asleep on the spare mattress on the floor. You look to George’s bed and see it's empty. You can hear the faint running of water, a small idea popping into your head. You walk over to the bathroom, your hand resting on the handle, hoping to god it’s George. You contemplate this gamble for a few seconds, bouncing on your heels slightly before the devil on your shoulder simply says ‘fuck it’ and you turn the handle to the bathroom. 

“Hey, knock-” George pulls the shower curtain across, cutting himself off when he sees you leaning against the now closed bathroom door. A smirk forms on his face as pulls the shower curtain open a little for you, simply waiting. The steam flows outside of the curtain, the mirror foggy and walls wet. You quickly slip out of your clothes, untying your hair and letting it fall. A shiver runs over your body in the damp air and you hurry into the shower, wanting the warm water to cascade over your body. 

George has his head tipped under the shower, leaving his body open to your eyes. You drink in his figure, his toned chest and arms, his semi hard cock and strong legs. The water streams down his skin, small sprinkles covering your body. Wetness slips past your folds, your heart beat picking up, this almost feels wrong without his counterpart. But you know they will talk and you know Fred will be jealous. 

George faces you, dragging his hand down his face to wipe away the water, his eyes linger on your body, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip. 

“What’s Freddie going to say?” 

The mention of his name has butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

“Why don’t you tell him and find out.” 

George smirks at your response, stepping closer to you and pushing you against the side shower wall, the cold tiles resting against your skin as a hiss leaves your lips.

“You’re a cock hungry whore, aren’t you baby?”

Your lips part at his words, simply nodding and leaning up to capture his lips. George pulls away from you tutting as he holds your chin between his fingers. 

“You answer daddy when he asks a question.” 

“Only for you daddy.” 

George chuckles, tilting your face up to his. Small droplets of water fall from his hair and onto your skin. 

“Liar.” He whispers, licking along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth and pulling the flesh. “You’re a slut for Freddie, and fuck it makes me hard, but tonight you’re mine.” 

You nod your head, a whispered ‘Yes Daddy’ slipping from your lips, your eyes staring into his. His lips lock with yours, his wet hand moving from your chin and tangling in your hair, pulling on the strands. A moan falls into your kiss, your tongues swirling against each other, his free hand holding your hip, pulling your dry body against his. 

“You’ve gotta be quiet baby.” George whispers, his lips kissing down your neck, tongue tracing a line to your boobs. You softly whimper as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the hardened bud. He pulls from your breast with a pop, alternating to the other side, your fingers tracing through his hair, pulling when he bites your nipple. The warm shower water sprinkling your body, the steam filling your lungs as your gasp.

“You’re so beautiful and these tits.” George whispers, grabbing your boobs in his large hands and jiggling the flesh. He sucks on the skin of your cleavage, leaving a red and purple hickey on each one, definitely something to rile up Fred. 

George presses against you, your boobs slip against his wet chest. His lips brush against your ear as you feel his hard cock against you skin. 

“This is all for you.” 

Your moan in response, causing George to place a hand over your mouth. Tutting at you as he shakes his head. He drags his fingertips up and down your thighs, softly tapping against your folds before slipping one finger past. He sucks in a breath at your wetness, pressing his fingers against your clit and looking into your eyes. 

“You’re so good for me, so wet and warm.” 

You nod against his hand that’s still pressed against your lips. His finger starts to swirl around your clit in small circles. Your eyes roll back, a moan vibrating against his hand. 

“I’ve missed this pussy baby.” 

He picks up the pace of his finger on your clit, your legs tense at the feeling of pleasure flowing through you at his actions. George pulls his finger from your clit, placing the digit against his tongue and rubbing it side to side, before his lips encase it. 

“So sweet.” 

If he wasn’t covering your mouth, it would be open in shock. 

“Please.” You beg, whispering against his hand, it is barely audible, he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t feel your lips move against his skin. 

“Are you begging for me to fuck you against the wall baby?”

His words cause more wetness to flow between your legs. He moves his hand from your lips allowing for you to answer. 

“Please daddy, I’ve missed your cock.” 

George smirks, placing his hand under your right knee and lifting your leg up, his other hand resting under your left arm. 

“I bet you’d say the same fucking thing to Freddie.” 

It’s your time to smirk at his words, nodding softly before you reach down and wrap your hand around his hard cock, tip red and beading with precum. 

“I would, because I’m a whore for you and a slut for him.” You whisper, slowly pumping your hand up and down his dick. George bites his lip, looking down at your hand. You place his cock against your folds, the tip brushes your wet clit causing him to hiss at the contact. You guide him lower to your entrance, angling your hips to allow for him to slide into your velvet walls. 

Both of you sigh in unison at the contact. George keeps his hips still, his lips capturing yours, savouring in the feeling of your walls around his cock. You rock your hips up slightly, a silent beg for movement as he smiles against your lips, pulling his cock from your pussy before plunging deep inside of you. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he finds his rhythm, his cock slips in and out of you, your wetness growing the deeper he thrusts inside of you. His lips are resting against your ear, his low whispered moans and groans echoing in your head. 

“So tight and wet for me.”

“Such a good girl for daddy.” 

Hearing him refer to himself as Daddy has your pussy tightening around him, his praise sending tingles through your body. 

The water of the shower continues to run, it ever so slightly sprinkling you both with droplets. The steam continues to fill the room, the water pressure dropping from being on for so long. 

“Touch your clit for me baby, I’m close and want you to cum first.” 

You slip your hand between your bodies, a moan falling from your lips as you circle your clit, the wetness causing it to slip against your finger. You add another, two now circling your clit and fast to help you reach your high. 

“Look at you, such a whore.” 

You whimper at his words, your pussy tightening causing George to hiss, tilting his head back, his wet hair sticking to his skin as he continues to rock in and out of you. 

“D-don’t stop.” 

Your legs tense, your fingers rubbing your clit faster and George’s lips fall to your neck, kissing the skin and whispering for you to cum. 

“Cover my cock baby.”

Your heart beat picks up, your breath hitching and your eyes squeezing shut as you cum. Your legs tingle and untense; George’s cock continues to slide in and out of you, his pace picking up as he moans in your ear. His mouth falls to your shoulder and bits skin to muffle his moan as his cum spurts, warmth pooling inside of you. 

George pulls away from you, watching his cock pull in and out, covered in a mix of cum. He gently places your leg down, slipping out of your pussy with a hiss. 

“C’mere.” George whispers, pulling you to his chest and kissing your hair. He spins you around, softly placing the warm running water against your cold back, his fingers tracing in your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead, his hands now holding your hips. 

“Let’s get you ready for bed.” 

| | | | 

You wake up in the morning, a dull ache in your legs from last night. The memory of last night floods your mind, you lift your shirt looking at your boobs beautifully covered in hickeys. 

“I hear you had fun last night.” 

You look over at Fred leaning against the doorway. Your face fills with blush, your eyes quickly flicking to George’s bed as you hear Fred chuckle. 

“George is out with everyone else, mum insisted they hand deliver Christmas cards to the neighbours.” Fred states, closing the door and moving closer to the bed. “And I insisted on letting you rest because you were up late last night and had to make sure you didn’t wake up alone.” 

“Freddie.”

“Nuh-uh, what’s my name baby girl.” 

Your stomach fills with butterflies, watching the eldest twin sit on the bed beside you, his fingers caressing your face. 

“Daddy.”

Fred nods, his hand tilting your chin up, before settling around your throat. Bending down to your lips and whispering against them. 

“That’s better, I bet you called George daddy and I bet you fucking loved it.” 

“I did.” 

You want Fred to be rough, you want him to compete against his brother, you want to be filled with his cum. 

“I hear you’re a slut for me, is that correct?” 

His hand tightens around your throat before releasing softly, dragging his hand down your body and resting it on your boob. 

“Yes daddy, whatever you want me to be.” 

Fred smirks, chuckling at your response. 

“So submissive for me, you wanted to make me jealous didn't you baby?”

He grips your breast, pinching your nipple and dragging his hand down your body, cupping your pussy through your thin pyjama pants.

“You want me to fuck you better than George.”

“Please.” You whimper, your hips rocking up against his hand. 

Fred slaps your pussy through your pants as your hips stop. 

“He was right, you’re a slut for me.” 

You simply nod in response. Fred leans down, his lips ghosting yours. 

“Get on your knees and show me what you want.” 

Within a second he’s pulled away for you, leaning back on the bed and resting against his elbows. You scramble off the bed, falling to your knees in front of him, the wooden floor hard and cold. 

You loop your fingers into Fred’s pants, tugging them down his body along with his underwear. His cock springs free, hitting against his lower stomach. Your mind floods with comparison to George, the thickness and length comparable, a vein running from the base to the tip. You run your tongue along the vein, flattening your tongue against the head of his cock before slipping it past your lips. 

“Fuck.” Fred moans, falling back on the bed, his hands dragging down his face. 

You wrap your hand around the base of his dick, meeting your lips half way, your tongue flicking side to side around his cock. Fred’s fingers lace in your hair, assisting you with bobbing your head up and down, his hips thrusting into your throat. Your eyes water, a few gags filling the air and drool leaking from your mouth. 

“Such a messy baby.” 

Your eyes roll back, moaning around his cock. 

“You didn’t- fuck- suck George’s dick, did you baby.” You shake your head, popping his cock from your lips. 

“Just for you daddy.”

“Mm, just what I wanted to hear.” Fred grabs your face between his hands, kissing your lips sloppily, his tongue rubbing against yours. Your lips are puffy and glistening with spit, his teeth pull at your bottom lip pulling away from you. 

“On the bed baby, ass up for daddy.”

Within an instant you’re standing in front of him, stripping your clothes. Fred stops you before you can lay across the bed, noticing the hickies covering your boobs. 

“Cocky fucker.” Fred groans, spanking your ass in encouragement to get on the bed. 

You lay with your ass in the air, feeling Fred kiss down your back. He reaches your ass, spanking the plump skin, soothing it with a soft kiss to your cheek. His teeth graze the skin, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on your ass. You squeak as he spanks you, his cock dragging up and down your slit, bumping against your clit, your moans filling the air. 

“No one’s home baby, be loud for me.” 

Fred slides deep inside of you, the angle allows for him to brush against your g-spot a moan pulling from your throat. 

“Fuck, I should just stay inside of you, that would drive you crazy, wouldn’t it baby?” 

“Yes daddy, please fuck me.” 

“Mm, what would George say?”

“Fuck, please, fuck me.” 

You push your hips back against his cock, a low groan falling from his lips. 

“Fuck yourself on my cock baby.” Fred encourages, your hips rock back and forth on his cock, wiggling them against him. You pull forward just far enough to leave the tip inside of you before pushing back allowing for him to slip deep inside of you. This causes Fred to grip your hips, starting his own rhythm and thrusting in and out of you. 

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it baby?”

You nod against the comforter, your hands gripping the material. 

Fred spanks your ass, his fingers looping your hair around his palm and pulling you up. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes daddy, wanted you to fuck me.” 

“Wanted me to fuck you better than George.” 

You moan at his words, his pace picking up. Both of your moans and heavy breathing fill the air, his grip still tight on your hair. Fred uses his grip to pull you up against his chest, his arm wrapping across your boobs as he bounces you on his cock. 

His lips fall to your ear, using his free hand to rub your clit. 

“Fuck, Freddie.”

Fred chuckles against your ear, his warm breath fanning your neck.

“Scream my name louder baby, I want George to hear.” He pinches your clit, your body jumping in response before he rubs fast circles around the bundle of nerves. You rest your head against his shoulder, lips parted with moans pouring from them. Your pussy tightens around his cock as his dick twitches. 

“You can cum for me baby, I’ve got you.” 

Fred’s grip on your body tightens, his hips rocking into you faster. 

“Daddy, so good.”

He kisses the side of your head, his pace picking up on your clit. He feels you clamp around his cock and your body tense. Your toes curl and your body shivers, cumming around Fred.

“Good girl, good fucking girl.” Fred whispers, the sound of your wetness filling the air as he continues to pound into you. He pushes your torso back onto the bed, holding your ass in his hands and chasing his high. Fred curses and you feel his load shoot inside of you, a few more thrusts and Fred gingerly pulls out of you. 

“Look at you baby.” He whispers, softly caressing your skin. 

You gently roll over onto your back, attempting to catch your breath as Fred rushes around for clothing before disappearing. You hear the front door to the Weasley’s home open close and a chatter fill the air. You heart rate picks up slightly, your body aching and mind blissed out to cover yourself. 

Fred reappears in the bedroom with a warm towel between his hands. Within a moment later George is sliding through the door. His eyes darkening when they land on you, legs spread and pussy dripping with his brother's cum. The twins share a look as Fred throws the towel to George who stalks over to you. 

“Such a pretty baby, our little cum slut.” George whispers, his eyes fixated on your pussy. A gasp falls from your lips at the feeling of George slipping his fingers inside of you. George pulls his fingers from you, a mix of cum sticking to his flesh. You grab George’s wrist, pulling his hand to your mouth, dragging your tongue up his fingers, sucking the mix of cum, your moan vibrating around his fingers. Your eyes lock with the younger twin, a smile present on both of their faces. 

“We’re so lucky Freddie.”

| | | |

Let me know if you'd like a part 2 with both of them.

#writing-wh0re-requests #fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins smut #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #dom!fred weasley #dom!george weasley #Daddy!fred weasley #daddy!george weasley #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #george weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley blurb #george weasley blurb #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #smut #fanfiction

[gurugirl]

coming soon to tumblr | handyman!harry

821 word teaser - 10k+ one shot already posted on Patreon.

One shot summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for. Based on this request.

. . .

Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.

“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”

You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.

Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.

But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.

And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.

You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.

Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.

“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”

“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”

He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”

You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”

Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”

You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”

“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.

When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.

“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.

Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”

. . .

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xoxo

General tag list: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut @elidoho @bananabk9756 @gotdrxnkonu @freedomfireflies @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #firstpost #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry edward styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harrystyles #harry styles concept #harry x reader #harry x yn #harry #harry styles writing

[charlewiss-writes]

treat you better / george russell

masterlist

day 12: special (part of one-word november prompts!)

word count: 0.7k

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: he's been dying to show you how special you could feel with him by your side. if only you would stop dating idiots that waste your time, he thought.

warnings: not proofread!

author's note: tried to write this as quickly as possible to post before the day ended. i still like it!!! hope you like it too<333 don't forget to leave a comment!

"remind me again, why are you crying for that bastard?"

you were weeping against his chest, while he gently caressed your hair trying to soothe the heartache. you and your boyfriend had broken up for the hundredth time. or at least that's how george saw it.

"he's my boyfriend, george" you managed to say through the softs sobs that were still scaping your mouth. he furrowed his brows, making a confused face that you couldn't see, due to you being pressed against his torso. "didn't you just tell me you broke up?"

"yeah, but I still love him"

'but how could you? after everything he did" he took your silence as a cue to keep asking, but now with a more soft tone. "why would you?"

after his sudden comment, you separated from him, now feeling weirded out by his -apparently unreasoned- outburst. "i don't know, george. all that bullshit of 'the heart wants what it wants' i guess". he huffed, clearly not satisfied with the answer he got, and instead got up from the couch to get some water. on his way, though, you saw how hard he was clenching his fist, making they seem almost white. after drinking a bit, he answered.

"that's bullshit".

"how are you so sure?"

now seated again beside you, he replied, trying to catch your eyes that where looking directly at your hands. "I know your heart. it's not that dumb."

you finally complied, looking directly at his blue eyes. "where are you going with this?". he got closer and offered the glass of water where he had been drinking from. "you know where".

"actually, I don't" with a ironic smile, you said. "please enlighten me, russell."

"i could treat you so much better".

letting the glass on the coffee table in front of the sofa where you two were currently in, you tried to avoid his gaze. "we're not having this conversation again".

"cause you know I'm right".

frustrated, you almost yelled at him, regretting it almost instantly. "cause you know why you aren't!". he wasn't actually trying to make you mad, so instead he tried to crack a joke that would ease the quickly growing tension that floated in the air. "I could do an entire powerpoint presentation on why we could work out" after not receiving an answer, he continued. "i would drop everything for you".

"and that's exactly why we won't work out" you said sincerely. the british driver had confessed one time, while drunk, that he would quit everything if that meant even the smallest possibility of you two getting together. you knew that he was only joking, he wouldn't actually do it, but even the smallest chance lf it actually happening scared you. how could you ask so much of him? being part of the f1 grid was always his dream, even since you started to know him back when he was in his karting days. you could never even think about him leaving everything for you. even if it was a joke. "i don't need you to".

"you know what I meant. I'll do anything you ask me".

after being seated face to face, too far away to actually touch eachother, you got a bit closer so you could rest your head against his shoulder. "can you just hold me tonight? we'll figure it out tomorrow, george". he hummed, appreciating the new point of contact, and closed his eyes.

now with his arm engulfing you in a hug and your head too close to his neck, where you could smell his perfume. you could feel the vibrations in his throat when he started talking again. "yeah yeah, i'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this out to you today. it's just that, I know you deserve to be treated better, cause you're special, y/n. and I would try every day to be worthy of you, of your love". you two didn't say anything else for a while, leaving you to enjoy the contact between your bodies and think about what he had said. after all this time, you still couldn't understand why he kept putting up with you. so you asked. "why are you so good to me?".

"that's what friends are for, right?"

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charlewiss writing challenge #one word november prompts #user charlewiss #f1 x y/n #f1 x yn #formula 1 imagine #george russell x you #george russell x y/n #george russell x reader #george russell angst #george russell imagine #george russell blurb #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 reader #f1 blurb

[george-weasleys-girl]

The Matchmaker Pt. 2

Part 1:

Warnings: a few curse words

~•~

Fun fact: I never intended this to be a multi-chapter fic, but when I went to save the first part, I accidentally posted it instead. Tumblr was being glitchy at the time, and I couldn't change it to a private post. So, I just did a quick proofread and hoped for the best.

Well, now, it appears I've gotten a little carried away, and there will be a Part 3. 😆

~•~

Fred chewed on his lip to keep from frowning. His plan was going far worse than he expected.

~•~

"George, you should probably talk to Y/N," Fred suggested, his smooth, steady voice hiding the anxiety threatening to boil over. "It's been three weeks. I'd really hate to see your friendship fall apart over some mysterious lover who may never reveal themselves."

"If she wants to talk to me, she knows where to find me."

"You've not exactly been very encouraging," Fred accused. "You won't even look at her, for Merlin's sake."

"Why should I bother? She's got her precious little secret admirer now. What does she need me for?" George stood and stalked out of their room, slamming the door behind him.

"Fuck." Fred flopped across his bed trying to figure out how his perfect plan failed and how he could fix it.

~•~

Y/N lay in the grass, watching the clouds roll by. She used to do this with George all the time. They could spend hours just lying there, pointing out shapes, and chatting about anything and everything.

All that was over now. With every letter she received, he slipped further and further away from her.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memories. How did everything get so messed up? Over the last several days, she'd endlessly replayed everything that had happened, trying to figure it all out. In the very beginning, she'd hoped George was her secret admirer. But, he'd made it abundantly clear that he didn't write any of the letters.

However, that wasn't what bothered her the most. Not anymore, anyway. It was his anger. She just couldn't understand it. If he only ever saw her as a friend, why should it matter if she had a secret admirer or a boyfriend. It made no sense.

Unless...

No, that couldn't be possible. Certainly, George would've said something to her by now. Wouldn't he?

Or would he?

She'd been silently in love with him for ages, waiting for him to make the first move. But what if he'd been waiting for her to do the same?

Y/N jumped up and sprinted inside, heading straight for Gryffindor Tower.

Not surprisingly, no one answered when she knocked on the twins' door. It was a beautiful day. They were probably outside stirring up mischief somewhere. That's ok, she thought. They all lived in the same place, and the boys would be back eventually. So, she'd just grab a book to read and wait for them in the common room.

Unfortunately, her plan was derailed by the discovery of a new letter. With a sigh, she opened it up and began to read.

Oh. Shit.

Dropping the letter on her bed, Y/N raced back outside to find George. It was now or never. She had to know where she stood with him.

~•~

Fred whistled as he strolled across the school grounds. This was going to work. He could feel it in his bones. Y/N would receive one last letter inviting her to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow at noon where her secret admirer would reveal themselves.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen because her admirer didn't exist. Y/N would think she'd been stood up and be understandably upset. But no matter. Fred would make sure George was there as well so he could swoop in and sweep her off her feet, and this whole mess would be over. His plan was foolproof.

~•~

Y/N was certain her heart might beat right out of her chest. She'd checked all the usual spots. No George or Fred. Wracking her brain as to where they could be, she approached a circle of Hufflepuff girls to ask if they'd seen the elusive twins.

She was only a few feet away, when she stopped dead in her tracks.

"I can't believe George Weasley asked you out to Hogsmede tomorrow," one girl said.

"Like, on a date?" Another asked.

"I think so," said a third. "We didn't really discuss details. He just asked me if I wanted to go with him and I said yes."

Y/N couldn't make out who said what, but it didn't matter. In one fell swoop, her whole world had just titled. Taking a couple of stumbling steps backward, she fell back against the wall, her head spinning.

"Hey, Y/N? You ok?" Y/N felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Hermione with Harry and Ron standing behind her.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got a little dizzy." Y/N smiled, pushing herself away from the wall. "Think I'll go lie down for a bit."

"Want us to walk with you?" Harry asked.

Y/N shook her head. "I'll be fine, thanks though."

"I could go get George," Ron offered.

"No! I mean, no, really. I'm ok." Y/N gave them one last smile before turning and disappearing around the corner.

~•~

George hated himself for letting his jealousy and pride get the better of him. He might've been able to salvage their friendship, maybe even confess his feelings if he hadn't been such a stupid git. Now, it was too late. It was only a matter of time before Y/N's secret admirer made themselves known, and then she'd would be well and truly lost to him. Just the thought of it made it difficult for him to breathe, as if his lungs were closing up.

It was that painful desperation that pushed him to do what he did next. The moment he saw Misty Davies, the cute Hufflepuff girl who'd had a crush on him since their second year, walking toward him on the path, he strode up to her and asked her out before he could second guess himself. Maybe if he had someone, anyone to cling to, it would soften the blow that was barreling toward him.

For a brief moment, a burst of exhilaration shot through him when she gleefully agreed to go with him to Hogsmede. But, the high was gone as quickly as it came. Misty was very pretty and very sweet, but she was not Y/N. Whenever George thought about his future, it was Y/N who he'd always envisioned by his side. No one else even came close.

~•~

"So, Georgie," Fred began. "I was thinking that tomorrow, we could hit Zonko's and Honeydukes, and then instead of gorging ourselves on candy, we could have a proper lunch at The Three Broomsticks."

"Can't," George replied as he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. "I have a date."

"A what?" Fred nearly fell out of his chair. Why was he just now hearing about this?

"A date," George continued, his voice dry and flat. "You know, two people going out together with romantic intentions."

"With who?!"

"Misty Davies. That Hufflepuff girl who has a crush on me."

"M-Misty? Why in Godric's name would you be going out with her?"

"Why not?" George shrugged. "It's not like I have any other options."

It was like the floor had given way underneath Fred, and he was in free fall.

"I--I just remembered I gotta do something," Fred stuttered.

"Yeah, ok. Whatever." George said and rolled onto his side, turning away from his twin.

~•~

Ginny was sound asleep when she and her roommates were startled awake by a frantic knocking at their door.

Ginny glanced at the clock. It was almost one in the morning. Expecting the worst, she jumped out of bed and flung open the door to find a pale and out-of-breath Fred on the other side.

"What's wrong? Is it Harry?"

Fred shook his head. "I need your help, Ginny. I've fucked up. Like fucked up, fucked up."

@princess-paramour @milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley #fred weasley x platonic #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff

[knickynoo]

HELLO, EVERYONE! I SAW THE BTTF MUSICAL YESTERDAY, AND AM READY TO POST SOME (SEMI) COHERENT THOUGHTS!

[Fair warning that some things here may spoil parts of the show.]

• First things first: It was so good. It was so, so, very good. Incredible show. I'd been hearing great things about the show since it first came out in London, and I've been listening to the music since it dropped, so I pretty much went in knowing I'd like it but it still managed to be even better than I thought.

• Just the setup of the theater itself and the ambiance prior to it starting was so cool. The way everything is lit blue and there's all the electrical zapping and humming. THE CONSTANT TICKING OF CLOCKS THAT FILLED THE THEATER. Nothing had even happened yet, and I was like, "This is such a good show."

• My one big cause for hesitation was Casey playing Marty. I know absolutely nothing about the guy, but Marty is just so dear to my heart, and MJF's energy and physicality isn't something easily captured. I had my doubts about seeing someone try to bring Marty to Broadway, but Casey walked onto the stage, called out, "Doc?" and I went, "Yeah, okay. There's Marty."

• For real, though, Casey was phenomenal as Marty. He had the vocal inflection down. The right amount of crackliness. Very good balance of cool kid and disoriented mess.

• Um. HUGH COLES?!? Talk about brilliant casting. I mean it when I say that he somehow seemed more George than George from the movie. The audience reacted with a sense of awe when he started speaking and moving around the stage. It was like Crispin Glover had been plucked straight from the film and injected with More Georgeness. When he did the laugh, the audience went nuts. His physical acting and the way he captured George's gestures perfectly was amazing to watch.

• As I'd expected, Musical Doc is ten times more chaotic and unhinged than Movie Doc. Roger Bart's comedic timing is impeccable. He earned himself frequent howling laughter from the audience from the moment he appeared on stage.

• His "Good thing I kept this radiation suit from my Manhattan Project days" line was a nice touch.

• "Despite my fear of heights, I was standing on my toilet," was such a gem of a line.

• THE DELOREAN. WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE DELOREAN. I had no idea how they were going to depict a car speeding to 88mph on a small stage, but THEY DID IT. Astounding. Honestly might be the coolest effects I've ever seen done on a stage. Also, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about the addition of it being voice-activated and talking, but it worked nicely!

• The musical obviously had to trim some parts of the movie—and even omit parts entirely—but it was done so well that you either didn't even notice or miss they were gone. The change from George being hit by a car to simply falling out of the tree was one of these changes. (Marty's under the tree trying to catch him, btw, which is how he ends up getting knocked out)

• I couldn't tell if this was an ad-lib from Casey, but when he was trying to get his pants back on in the Baines house scene, he started struggling a bit with the tangled suspenders that were wrapped around one of the legs of the jeans and muttered in frustration, "Why do I wear suspenders??" Very funny little moment.

• Great chemistry between Bart and Casey. The connection between Doc and Marty was THERE. The musical GOT IT RIGHT. So many hilarious moments between them in the form of completely unintelligible banter, where they're just talking over each other and having like...verbal tennis matches of nonsense. It's hard to describe in writing, but trust me, it was so good. It went something like this:

Doc: "Marty!"

Marty: "Doc!"

Both Simultaneously: *literal gibberish*

• There's a beautiful little addition to the scene when Marty shows up at Doc's house in 1955 and tries to convince him he's from the future. After Doc asks him to take him to this supposed "time machine" Marty goes, "Sure, hang on, I just gotta grab some flashlights." Then he goes straight to a cabinet and quickly retrieves two flashlights without a second thought, to which Doc is like, "How did you know they were in there??" Marty knows!! He knows exactly where the flashlights are because of course he does!!

• Perhaps one of the funniest moments of the show was right at the end of the "Future Boy" number, where the music stops and there's that breaking of the fourth wall moment. Doc and Marty look around in confusion at all the backup singers and dancers awkwardly standing around his house (one of the singers continues dancing/singing long after the others has stopped lol) and Doc wordlessly opens the door so they can all scurry out.

• Doc's dream of visiting the year 2020 where everything is perfect and there's "no disease" got some very loud laughter from the audience.

• Oh. Oh, the scene at Doc's house at night after the demonstration with the toy car. The way everything gets solemn for a moment, and Doc is doubting himself and worried about failing. Marty's lovely little speech about how everything will be okay because he believes in him. He trusts Doc. He knows it'll work and they'll get him home. The way Marty is the one looking after and taking care of Doc in that moment. When he asks, "Do you need anything, Doc? Can I make you a sandwich?" And then when he says softly, "Goodnight, Doc. Pleasant dreams."

THE MUSICAL GETS IT RIGHT. THE WARMTH. THE LOVE. THIS WAS SUCH A NICE ADDITION.

• "PUT YOUR MIND TO IT" !!!! I loved this sequence so, so much. Marty gets to strut his stuff while George flails around trying to imitate him. It was funny, the choreography was great, and we get such a nice Marty and George hug at the end! Why didn't they hug in the movie??

• The audience was super engaged and reactive through the whole show, but it noticeably ramped up in the latter part—starting with the night of the dance. There was such an excitement as people anticipated George swooping in to take down Biff and protect Lorraine. When Biff went down, the audience whooped and clapped and cheered so much.

• EARTH ANGEL! THE MOMENT GEORGE AND LORRAINE KISS. It was just like the movie. The music suddenly swelled, Marvin belted out, "The vision of your happiness", George and Lorraine kissed, and the audience. Lost. Their. Minds. It was as if people were experiencing the story for the first time—that's how strong the reaction was. So cool.

• Audience also went wild at the start of Johnny B. Goode. That was a neat sequence as well. Huge laughs at the "But your kids are gonna love it" line.

• The clocktower scene! Marty handing Doc the letter and saying, "I wrote you a thank-you note; don't read it until you get home!!" LOL. So many amazing effects going on in this one. For those of you who have seen the show, you probably remember Doc running up the clocktower stairs, right? Did the audience nearly die of laughter like they did at my showing? That was truly one of the top 5 funniest moments of the show, in my opinion. It had me giggling hours later once I was home. For those of you who have not seen the show, I don't think I can adequately put into words what was happening during this scene, but it was incredibly funny. It's good there wasn't any dialogue during it, because no one would have heard it with the way everyone was laughing.

• The fire trails on stage got quite the awed reaction. Super cool.

• The hug! We get our Doc and Marty hug at the end! I'm so glad they realized that moment was missing from the movie.

• I liked the shift from Marty waking up at home to him waking up on the bench in town instead. The "George McFly Day" part was a fun addition, and it flowed nicely into Marty's "Power of Love" performance.

• THE CAR FLEW. IT FLEW UP IN THE AIR AND THE WHEELS TURNED IN AND IT WENT OUT OVER THE AUDIENCE. HOW DID THEY DO THAT. IT DID A COMPLETE ROTATION UPSIDE DOWN WHILE CASEY AND BART WAVED TO PEOPLE. If anyone knows of any videos or articles explaining how they did things with the car, please let me know because I can't find anything and I would love to know how they did it! You couldn't see anything holding the car, and i'm so confused! The effects were so good.

• Love how, when the show ended, the giant screen on the stage just said, "Make like a tree and get outta here."

...I think those are all my thoughts. I was planning to write up a post with just a couple of bullet points of highlights and instead. Well. This is what you get from me, and if you've followed my blog for any length of time, you know that. But really, the show was so well done. I had a blast. I bought a pin that says, "Whoa, this is heavy" and I'm going to put it on my denim jacket :)

For those who are planning to see the musical, I hope this helps hype you up for it. And for those who can't see it, I hope this gives you a good look at what it's like!

#back to the future #bttf #back to the future: the musical #bttf: the musical #casey likes #roger bart #broadway

[the1975attheirverybest]

Dearly Beloved

A/N: This is it for Matty and Jo! Final installment of the Valentines Week mini-series. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU @abiiors for hosting 💗💗💗💗

Warnings: none. Typos are probably going to happen in my writing. While I do proofread before I post most of the time, I’m also 80% blind. Apologies in advance.

***

Jo and Matty looked into each other’s eyes, the nerves written all over both of their faces. 

He reached for her hands, squeezing them. “Tonight’s the night.”

“Mhm.”

In Jo’s eyes, Matty saw their entire lives together. Their first kiss in George and Charli’s garden; their first date; the first time they slept together; saying ‘I love you;’ moving in, having Sophia. The last few months had been hell on them. In Jo especially. Despite his best efforts to remain supportive and understanding, Matty did not always handle it well. It had driven them apart. In a way that could’ve easily changed them both forever. So, they both needed tonight. Their relationship needed it. They’d  been looking forward to and talking about it forever. And now, it was here. 

Their excitement teetered on the edge of anxiety. They both felt slightly disoriented. Jo found herself abnormally self-conscious. Aware of her body and the way that it has changed, anxious underneath Matty’s passionate gaze. He was scared too. Not wanting to make her feel weird and treat her differently, but he couldn’t deny that things were different now. They were both different. 

“You know we don’t have to do this, right?” Matty whispered. 

“Wh-why? Do you not want to?”

“Of course, I want to, Jo! Look at me! I’m wearing clothes, like, real clothes- not fuckin joggers and a t shirt, for the first time since Sophia was born. I’ve got a bit of aftershave on, too.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “To seduce you. In case you haven’t noticed.”

Jo broke a smile, leaning into him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “You do smell divine.” She inhaled. “Sexy.”

“Right, then.” Matty cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Oh, wait. The baby!”

Jo frowned. “You’re bringing Sophia? isn’t that a bit-“

“She’s not gonna be in there with us. Just dropping her off at Louis’s.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.”

Matty picked his daughter up, cooing to her softly, “who’s ready for a lovely day with uncle Louis? Hmm? You gonna show him your new toys ?”

***

Jo and Matty rushed out, hand in hand, giggling into the street. 

“We’ve done it!” Matty looked down at her.”

“Finally!”

“We are, officially, husband and wife.”

He clutched the marriage license in his hand, dipping his head down to kiss her. “In the eyes of the state, and the patriarchy, this thing between you and I is official now.”

Jo giggled, “love it when you talk sexy to me.”

Matty took her hand in his as they walked down the stairs, into the crowded city streets. 

“Does this mean I have to start smoking big cigars and putting my feet up on the furniture now? Bossing you around and complaining about dinner not being at the table the second that I make it home form a long, hard day’s work?”

Jo laughed, rolling her eyes playfully at him. “We got legally married, Matthew, not teleported to the 1950s.”

***

“Okay, I think everything’s ready, yeah?” Jo looked up at him, breathless from the nervous pounding of her heart. 

“Yeah, yeah. I even added ‘Isn’t She Lovely,’ to the playlist, you know, for Sophia.”

Jo rolled her eyes when she realized that they’re having two separate conversations. “Matty, I’m talking about everything else, not the playlist! The - the dinner. The table. The house!”

“Everything is perfect, Jo. Relax.” Matty pressed his lips to hers, before she could interrupt. He took her hand, leading her to the couch. “Mum’s ordered from the chef friend of hers. Catering will be here in an hour. I’ve asked for a bartender. He’ll be arriving shortly before the guests.”

Jo nodded, going over the schedule helped her to get a real sense of preparedness. “Yeah, and- Charli’s in charge of the cake.”

“Ross insisted on flowers. Even though I said it was a home wedding. Very lowkey.”

“Ross is the best.” She smiled, fondly. 

“Would you please relax now? Everything’s accounted for!”

***

George stood up, smiling widely. “Ahem” he cleared his throat dramatically to gain the silent attention of the room. A hush fell over the place. Tim and Denise already brimming with tears. 

“Dearly beloved-“ the words were barely out of George’s mouth before Matty burst into laughter. 

“What the fuck, Matty?” George shot him a glare and whispered tight-lipped.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just….so formal. Go on.” Matty wiped the grin off his face.

“Dearly beloved-“

This time, it was Ross’s giggling that had interrupted the preamble. 

“Sorry, sorry. He’s right…you sound absurd… anyway, go on.”

George shook his back, loosening his shoulders in an attempt to remain composed. Giving both of his friends silent warnings, he tried again.

“Dearly-“ he cut himself off, turning to Adam. “You wanna laugh, too, I suppose? Get it out of your system now.” He demanded, stifling a laugh of his own. He was only deflecting, by projecting the laughter onto Adam. Now that it’s been pointed out to him, he was much too aware of the formality of the speech that he had prepared, unable to keep a straight face. ‘dearly beloved.’ What a ridiculous phrase. Why was it so unbelievably funny when you say it out loud?

The four boys burst into a fit of nervous laughter at the front of the room, whispering to each other incoherently, patting each others backs. 

Matty turned to the room filled with his friends and family, “sorry everyone. Erm. Hello! Thanks for being here. My- my beautiful wife and I, as you all know, have already been married a while. We just thought that….well, with baby Soph finally here and all that…we wanted to celebrate with you all.”

The room roared with cheers and applause, Jamie whistled. 

“I love you all so much. Thank you for coming.” Matty’s eyes welled up.

***

Charli handed Jo a bouquet of flowers that she had picked and tied together using a ribbon out of the decorations that Ross had ordered. “For the bride.” She kissed jo's cheek. “Congratulations.”

“Wait.” Carly held up her palms. “Those are the clips that I used on my wedding day. To keep my hair out of my eyes. You know….Something borrowed.”

Matty turned to his bride, mouthing, “all good?”

“Mhm.”

“Right. Where’s my ring bearer?”

Proudly, Adam and Carly’s son skipped over to the center of the room, with his hands extended out. “I’m herrreeee.”

Matty crouched down to be at his level. “Perfect. Thanks little legend. You’ve…gotta…mate, you’re meant to give them to me now.” Matty opened his hands, waiting for the reluctant ring bearer to complete his duties. “ So I can…you know… thank you! Smooth transfer, bro. You’re a natural!” He giggled, blushing like a teenager as his eyes locked on Jo. “Right, lastly, where’s my baby girl? Come here, Angel. Come to dada.”

Louis brought Sophia over, handing her to Matty.

“Hello my world.” He kissed her. “Come watch mom and dad get married.”

Their ring-clad fingers intertwined. Matty kissed his wife. She took a moment to let the tingle run through her, smiling, she turned to the crowd. 

“Let’s get this fuckin party started!!”

That was George’s cue to let the music play. 

Matty rushed over to the drinks corner, acquiring two glasses of champagne. He handed one to Jo, clicking it to his glass.  “we’ve done it. Cheers.”

“yes we have.”

“I love you, Jo.”

“I love you, too, Matty.”

#valentine75 #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fluff #matty healy oneshot #matty healy x oc

[makeupinthedrawer]

winter

richkid!niall x tutor!fem!eader | college au

authors note: hi!!!!!! i’m back!!!!!! i know it’s been a criminally long time since i posted something but i really love this and hope you love it to :) if you do please leave a comment and/or reblog. likes are so nice but actual feeback really encourages me to post and makes me feel like it’s not just bots liking my posts lol. as always my reader can be of any height, weight, or race pls let me know if any of the language used is isolating.

prompt: A and B are casual college friends when the holiday season rolls around. A plans to go home to their luxurious life but decides to stay when B tells them they can’t go home for christmas. A decides to keep B company and give them the most amazing christmas ever.

word count: 6.4k

upcoming content: fluff!! mentions of financial issues

series masterlist | full masterlist

the snow seemed to be falling in time with the clock ticking, noting every passing second that your professor went on and on about something Austen, something Shakespeare. london quickly became a blanket of white, the flusters blanketing the entire city in frost. your stare was glued to the window, your professor totally drowned out as your pen lightly tapped against the blank notebook page. it was a shame it really was, that you couldn’t pay attention because you were hoping that English lit would be the distraction that could keep your mind off the upcoming holiday season that was destined to be spent holed up in your studio apartment, props to student affiliated housing that came in your scholarship, with holiday movies lightly playing in the background of your wallowing.

a slight wave passed through your glance but your brain disregarded it, you’d get the notes from someone anyways. it wasn’t until it happened two, three times that you managed to blink out of your dazed state and look in the direction of whatever brought you back to reality. directly across from you sat niall horan. leaned back in his seat, subtly just enough to keep him out of view from the professor. his big blue eyes quirked at you as he mouthed “you okay?” it was hard to not get lost in his gaze like you did earlier but you had more self-conscious this time and just nodded, sitting up and facing the board, robotically writing down whatever the professor was saying even if it had no context. despite that, his stare lingered and it took everything in you to not snap your eyes back.

niall horan. you didn't even know why he was taking English lit in the first place if he was here for football, but he was… and he wasn’t doing the best. which resulted in him rushing up to you one day during the second week of classes and spitting out his begging for tutoring as fast as he possibly could. you were so startled you agreed without really thinking about anything other than increasing the amount of space between you because the wall of spiced cologne mixed with what you think is vanilla on some days when you get lost in a daydream, and sweat, and just him, took over your senses. along with his large hands outstretched toward you in a plea. “r-really?” he asked, an incredulous look passing over his face as his george elliot book that was just passed out to everyone dropped from his grip. you opened your mouth but quickly snapped it shut, just nodding at him. his gape turned into a smile, and a glint entered his eye that reminded you of the one you saw in the reflection of the charm on the old necklace you thought you lost. “how could i be so lucky?”

“oh wow, that’s great! thank you so much! okay, so… i can give ya my number and we can discuss when to meet? or you can send me your schedule like? honestly, whatever works for you.” he said, pulling a pen out of one pocket and rummaging through his other for what you assume was a piece of paper.

“oh wow, that’s great! thank you so much! okay, so… i can give ya my number and we can discuss when to meet? or you can send me your schedule like? honestly, whatever works for you.” he said, pulling a pen out of one pocket and rummaging through his other for what you assume was a piece of paper.

“oh here,” you spoke, reaching around to unzip your bag and tear a piece of your notebook, but suddenly your head whipped around at the feeling of your hand engulfed in his. before you knew it his name was scrawled in loopy handwriting against your wrist, along with his phone number. the sight of his long fingers against your skin was the final push of this situation going from odd to overwhelming so you looked up and straight ahead, only to see a lighter-haired boy smack his forehead with his palm at the sight of you both. you recognized him as sean mullholland, having seen him and niall together often. 

“alright, just message me whenever! whenever you have time! but not too late y’know? i really can’t afford to fail this next exam.”

you opened your mouth again and just found yourself nodding, watching as his head tilted at the repeated action. god he probably thought you were fucking mute. “i- i mean yeah, no problem.”

the confusion on his face quickly turned to one of relief and pure gratitude. “thanks so much! so i guess i’ll see ya around.” he said, and with a final smile he turned and walked back to his friend.

“wait… niall!” you called, noticing his book was still on the ground.

he spun around quickly, “yeah?” 

“your book, you’ll need it… y’know for the test.” his eyes widened as you bent down to pick it up, his shoes quickly coming into our eye line as he reached for it, but it was already in your hold.

“aw, jesus, ‘m already messing up. thanks, thanks again.” the trepidation in his voice was a large contrast to who he was, or who you thought he was to be more accurate. you saw him every day in class talking to his friends with a smile on his face, and he was part of the university's football team so his name was overheard in conversation often, along with his picture or him with other members of the team in the school’s newspaper. he seemed to be regularly happy, confident. and that’s without the fact that he was… quite handsome, in your opinion. and the opinion of many people on campus. i mean, it’s just undeniable. thick brown hair that would fall across his forehead, that would sometimes curl by the ears if he hadn’t cut it in a while, paired with a perfectly sculpted nose and the smallest hoop earrings that were so endearing you thought about them all day when you first noticed them. but the kicker was the oceans he kept behind his irises. seeing him nervous before you, both hands gripping his book like a stress ball lessened some of your initial intimidation.

“you’re gonna be okay, niall.” you said simply, looking up at him through your lashes, keeping your face as blank as possible. he looked down at you, eyes tracking every inch of your face and it involuntarily heated up. it was as if he was searching for a lie, but he didn’t seem to find it.

“yeah, yeah.” he remarked, hand going up to scratch at his neck as he dropped his eyes to the ground. he started walking back to his friend, but backward this time so he was still facing you. “hopefully. thanks again, really, i’ll see you around?”

you raised your wrist revealing his name and number still printed there with a smile that he replicated and sent you a nod of approval and disappeared around a corner, allowing you to let out an immense breath.

that was six weeks ago, and you’re now halfway through the semester. you’ve met with niall dozens of times already, holed up in a study room in the back of the library. you’ve learned a lot about him: how he takes his coffee, that he’s color blind, that his favorite band is the eagles and he saw them when he was four and that’s why he learned how to play the guitar, you couldn’t think about that one for a long time because it made you lightheaded, and that he was “well off” as he’d put it, but the soft, cashmere cardigans he always wore and the vintage car that was parked outside proved he was more than,

“when me ma and da got divorced she moved here to london and started her own business, she’s worked really hard for a long time, to send me to school and stuff ya know?” he revealed once, during a late night study session turned game of twenty questions. he was always doing that, studying for an hour then getting bored or burnt out and asking you questions or digging through your bag to find the snacks you hide in the back pocket. when you caught him the first few times he would wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and shove your bag away, now he just sends you a smirk and pull the cellophane baggie out for easier access.

you would consider him a friend. he’s carried the title of your crush as your roommate would put it, but it all sounded too childish, too middle school, it didn’t sum up the uniqueness of how he made you feel, how no one had made you feel before. along with tingly fingers and a rapidly beating heart, he also made you feel a tad… jealous. you could relate that your parents also worked really hard for a long time to send you to university but if it wasn’t for the scholarship you got, you definitely wouldn’t be here in the heart of england studying literature with some of the best professors in the world. 

bitter sadness crept into your heart as you snapped your notebook shut and placed it in your bag, class ending was just another sign of time moving on and the closer christmas came where you would have to be here, in a new continent all alone because your parents couldn’t afford a plane ticket to get you home and back in time for classes again.

walking out of class, a presence you became all too familiar with loomed behind you, you could recognize him based on the feeling of the hairs on your neck sticking up. he didn’t make you nervous anymore, but the nerves that turned into feelings of longing seemed worse, in your opinion. “hey ya” he spoke, voice low and accent thick.

“hey, niall.”

the two of you walked in step for a few beats before he started up again, “i- i just wanted to see if ya were alright like… you seemed a little spaced out there for a sec, thought ya were checking me out with how ya were staring at me but-”

“oh god i’m so sorry niall, i wasn’t- i- i wasn’t staring at you i just… i just got lost in my head!” you exclaimed with wide eyes, of course you dazed out staring directly at him, unblinking and dead-eyed, you wanted the floor to fall from underneath you. but all he did was laugh, joyful and boisterous, pale cheeks tinting red with emotion.

“no need t’apologize darling, quite like it when ya look at me anyways,” he smirked.

you rolled your eyes, refusing to let yourself take his banter as anything more than what it was. “well… us both being distracted is going to make tomorrow’s tutoring a bitch then huh?”

he laughed again and nodded, “yup! but we’ll figure it out together, right?”

“of course” you replied, with a smile that didn’t really reach your eyes but you couldn’t bring any more positivity out of yourself, the homesickness was too powerful.

his cerulean iris’s tracked down your face, as they always seemed to do when you found yourselves in these little staring matches. “y’sure you’re okay? we can skip tonight if ya want.”

“no, i’m okay. anyways, like you said, we need to teach each other the material.”

“yeah… well, i’ll be there usual time, kay?” with a nod you went your separate ways and you began the ten-minute walk to your apartment. 

“hey! oh, watch out!” your roommate cried as you nearly tripped over an overstuffed duffle bag.

“sorry! i was going to move it, but then i just got all wrapped up!” she cried from her cross-legged position on the floor, hands sticky with tape and clumps of discarded wrapping paper sat around her.

“it’s okay… do you want any help with that?” you offered, kicking your shoes off. she nodded vigorously and you both dissolved into laughter.

“thanks so much, i don’t know why wrapping is so hard! i mean… i love when the scissors do the glidey thingy against the paper, literally so satisfying right? but after that i realize i cut off too much or too little and then i tear it when i try and fold it and it’s just all going to hell!”

you just nodded and measured out an appropriate piece of wrapping paper for the doll box and slid the scissors against the dotted lines, folding the ends into triangles and holding them down, allowing her to stick the tapes on the end. “i’ll do the actual wrapping, you man the tape.” 

“perfect.”

the two of you sat for around ten minutes, creating a decent-sized stack of neatly wrapped boxes. “do you wanna watch a movie later? we can watch the holiday episodes of that cartoon you like.”

“i’d love to but i have to meet niall later for tutoring.”

“ahh, still teaching the football star how to read then?”

you rolled your eyes with a laugh, “he knows how to read! cut him some slack, shakespeare is hard for anyone.”

“tell me about it, i barely passed when i took this class last year.”

“so yeah, i’ll be gone for about an hour or so. when do you head home?”

“i’ll be at the train station tomorrow around two, then i should be home at like six, i’ll keep you updated though.”

you nodded approvingly. your roommate was from england, but lived a while away from london. you’d seen pictures of the quaint countryside home she grew up in and it reminded you of a storybook.

“you know… my offer still stands. we can totally just buy you a ticket now and you can spend the holidays with me. it’ll be fun, i promise! we have the spare room and my parents already love you for getting my calculus grade from a D to a B!”

you just laughed again, dismissing her offer once more. “i appreciate it but really, i’ll be fine here, i swear. i’m not just saying that, i just… even with your family, i’m still going to feel lonely, if that makes sense. i just don’t think i’d be able to enjoy myself, and then i’d just beat myself up all over again for not being in the moment”

she nodded understandingly, “i get that.” 

 “don’t worry, really, have a good time! and i’ll have a bunch of cookies here for you when you get back.”

“ugh! that’s what i’m going to miss the most while i’m away!” she groaned and started packing the presents away in her bag.

the time rolled around when you had to go meet niall so with a quick goodbye you laced your shoes and head out the door. your arms wrapped around yourself as your sweater did little to block out the frost. with quick steps you hurried inside the library, allowing the slight heat to relax your muscles.

the peace that came with the library only lasted a few moments as the familiar clambering of niall’s entrance began, the boy could never be quiet. twisting past chairs and shelves, donned in his football kit, he pressed his face against the small window sending you a grin that made his cheeks push up. you smiled up at him and unlocked the door.

“‘ello darlin’, sorry ‘m late, practice ran long” he breathed out, collapsing into the plastic chair beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, catching his breath. this wasn’t the first time he showed up from practice, but he hadn’t ever invaded your space like this. it was impossible to not get lost in his scent or his panting breaths fanning your skin and his shorts exposing and stretching out against his thighs.

“woo! needed to catch my breath! got ya all sweaty, sorry.” he whipped his towel in your face, making you scrunch your nose up. he giggled and did it a few more times until you yanked it out of his hands.

“niall.” you said sternly.

“yes.” he repeated in the same tone.

“we need to study or not have a towel fight!”

“right, right. maybe another day then.”

you both started taking out your books and laptops. “we have so much stuff lined up for another day, don’t we?” it’s what you guys would say whenever you got distracted by some random activity.

“oh yeah, this towel contest comes after our who can eat the most cookies contest and me teaching ya how to play football, right?”

you giggled and he felt his smile widen and the tips of his ears turn red. “god, i’m gonna be so awful.”

he scoffed and shook his head, “‘m sure ya won’t be! and even if y’are, i’ll be your coach! and y’know i’m pretty fucking good if say so myself!” he tipped his head back with his nose in the air. you laughed again, he always made you laugh. 

“i dunno ni, i saw that yellow card!”

“don’t bring up the yellow card!” you said at the same time

“i- i don’t know what you want me to say! why’d you get a yellow card?” you teased, watching him grow annoyed at the penalty he got at last weeks game.

“that was a stupid call and you know it! you know that ref hates me! that shite was so fucking stupid.”

“i know, i know, i’m just teasing ya.”

“yer mean when you wanna be, darling! do people know that?”

“nope! i have a very carefully curated my english major image.”

niall kicked the chair back so it rested on its back two legs as he threw his arms behind his head. you always marveled at the way he took up so much space. or maybe that was just how you saw him. he peered down at you as you packed up your things. niall loved these secret moments where he could just bask in observing you. the tremors running up his fingers was a sensation he was used to, as they twitched by his side with the urge to brush your hair out your face. this happened often, the first time he was taken aback, shaking off the unfamiliar feelings, but it was already out of his control. the day he clamored towards you, his being became yours. his courage had yet to follow, though. so for now, he settled for the moments he could make the heat rise to your cheeks.

“niall?” you drawled slowly, taking in his half-lidded gaze. he blinked a few times and cursed himself for getting lost in his daydreams.

“s-sorry darling, what were ya saying?”

“oh nothing, just if you have anything exciting planned for the break?”

“oh yeah! my brother just had a baby, wee little thing, so me ma and dad and i are flying to ireland to go spend christmas with them. theo’s first christmas and all that!”

“i didn’t know you were an uncle, ni.”

“yeah, a few months ago” he said, showing you a photo of him cradling a tiny baby in his arms and you couldn’t stop the awe that escaped you

“niall that is literally the cutest thing i’ve ever seen!”

“awe thanks babe, yer pretty cute too” he said, throwing his arm around you, dissolving into laughter as you rolled your eyes.

“i’m talking about the baby and you know it”

“whatever ya say!” he quirked an eyebrow up at you and you mirrored his smile.

“well, it sounds like you have a great couple of weeks ahead of you.” you replied, turning away from him and starting to fiddle with your worn copy of Hamlet, little pieces of the page edges flaking off.

“hmm yeah… i mean i hope so, you know how it can be, family drama and all that.”

the way his tone sloped into something melancholic before he lifted it up again “what about you?”

you took a deep breath, words stuck in your throat. you knew niall came from money, lots of people on campus did, and a lot of people didn’t. no one really cares. you knew you had no reason to be embarrassed, you earned your spot here just like, or even more so than anyone else, plus it was college, not high school, and there weren’t any bullies or rumors. but it was easier to say that logic than shake off the insecurity that crept up your spine whenever your differences came to light. the period of silence followed by people awkwardly backtracking to take back their words about their new things or vacations as if they offended you. it didn’t at all, as long as people were nice, you didn’t care how much or how little money they had. but it was still embarrassing and niall heightened all your feelings by just being him. you figured the best thing to do was just be honest and casual, if you didn't make it a big deal then he wouldn’t either.

“oh… i’m just staying here.”

“what?” niall let out, the chair falling forward so the front legs hit the floor with a resounding clang.

you squeezed your eyes shut, so there was that whole casual plan down the drain,

“yeah…” you murmured, not really knowing what to say.

“why?” he asked. a voice far in the back of his head that sounded all too much like his da or mully was telling him to shut the fuck up and mind his business, but the image of you spending the holidays all alone, and you often complained about how shotty the dorms heating was, so you’d most likely be cold too, was very troubling for him.

you pulled at the adjusting strap of your bookbag, twisting it around your fingers. you took another deep breath, you were an adult and niall was your friend and any comments about your situation would reflect more on him than you is what you told yourself as you finally looked over at his wide eyes and lips slightly parted, concern written across his features.

“well,” you began, silently curing yourself as you turned your head again, the weight of his stare was too much to bear. “it’s just- kinda expensive to like get a flight home and back in time for classes again.”

and there it was, the silence that you tried so hard to avoid. the silence of people trying to scramble for the right words to say, as if they could offer up the perfect solution when it was just life.

niall felt the silence eating away at the two of you, feeding off the palpable energy. “say something, anything” his brain shouted.

“come with me” what?

“what?” your head snapped up.

“c-come with me… if you want.” his brain was still trying to make sense of his sudden invitation, but it felt right in his heart.

“no niall. i can’t.”

“why not?”

you sighed, your body tired of having this conversation with your roommate the week prior. “niall you just told me about all your plans, with your entire family and their newborn baby. i’m not gonna crash that.”

“y’won’t be crashing! i swear! mully’ll be there, he ain’t family!” he was drawing at straws and you both knew it, but it seemed his heart sent him on a mission.

“sean mullholland? you mean your best friend since you were five? that’s not the same.”

his palms grew damp as he wiped them against the polyester shorts. he couldn’t stomach the idea of you being alone. not when you could be with him. something sick licked at his chest at the news that you couldn’t be with your family. he was devastated for you, having coaxed many crazy childhood stories from you when he managed to carve out a break from studying. but he very much wanted you all to himself. outside of the four walls of the library study room, and this was his chance. 

“well yes, but, it’s not-”

you sent him a sad smile, putting your arm through one of your bag straps. he hadn’t even realized you packed up.

“you’re sweet niall, but seriously, it’s gonna be fine. it’s not a big deal. you said and honestly, you’ve been saying that so much over the past few days that you were starting to believe it. you just wanted the holidays to be over at this point.

niall threw his bag over his shoulder and followed you out of the library. the cool wind hit your skin as you pulled your sweater sleeves down your hands. niall was bounding down the street, wracked with nervous energy. he was counting down the days until christmas but now it was coming too fast. as was your residency hall. “b-but… don’t you want to spend time with me? i mean, hanging out with me for the holidays won’t be so bad.” he murmured and you stopped in your tracks. it took you back to the day you first met, the vulnerability. he looked down at you, his big blue eyes glistening with gold flecks.

the two of you spent time together outside of studying every now and then, but rarely jus the two of you, and never outside of school, save for that one time he rescued you from a bad date last season. his car picked up the autumn leaves as he spotted you walking home, miles from the school, eyes full of unshed tears. it was the first and only time you ever sat in his car, the leather seats and his comforting words cushioning you after a terrible night.

ever since then, things between you shifted.

“of course that doesn’t sound bad at all. i just… you don’t need to feel bad for me, okay? and we’ve never really hung out outside of school before yknow? i wouldn’t want to make it awkward. besides, it’s one christmas, spend a good time with your nephew, uncle niall.” you joked pulling out your keys. niall’s chest deflated as he nodded.

“you did good today, ni. you’re gonna be fine on the next exam.” you spoke, before sending him a smile and closing the door behind you.

always so nice, he thought. that’s what you are. nice. smart. funny. beautiful. his system was overwhelmed with feelings for you. the idea that he made you feel bad killed him. he heard enough from his friends that he needed to man up and just ask you out already, that he was going to lose his chance. niall sighed as he walked into his apartment, mully sprawled out on the couch, suitcases packed by the front door. “oi mate, how’d the reading lessons go? y'know the alphabet yet?” he called, eyes not leaving the screen.

“almost, lad.” niall replied half-heartedly.

“”aye, what’s wrong? did you do bad?” mully asked, looking over the couch at his friend. growing up with niall, mully quickly learned that he was one of the funniest people he’s ever met, and also that he was very sensitive.

niall sat down beside him and told him about your situation and tried to explain his feelings that he couldn’t fully admit to himself. 

“well why don’t you just stay here, then?” mully offered.

“what?”

“i dunno, just stay here for christmas, or just move your flight and fly in christmas eve instead of this weekend with me. you can have yer alone time and do a bunch of romantic shit.”

niall began to think about it, his earlier dread melting away. “that could work but i think yer forgetting that i can barely speak around her, mate! what would i even do?”

“i don’t fucking know! just give her a nice christmas, pull out all the stops! lord knows you can afford it.” mully remarked.

“yeah, yeah… you’re right! this is good, this is gonna be good.” niall said, jumping off the couch.

“where ya going?” mully called.

“i have to start planning!”

it was december 20th and break had started four days ago. it wasn’t so bad at first. the first day of coming home to an empty apartment was relaxing. it was nice being able to take a long shower and cook leaving the kitchen as messy as you wanted. the second day was the same as well, playing your music as loud as you wanted and putting on your favorite cartoon for hours then pigging out some more. it was the third day when it started to get old. your younger brother had been calling you every hour with whatever new development happened at home and you appreciated the updates but the dial tone filled you with loneliness and each call was just a signifier that christmas was almost here and your family was all the way over there.

the day was easy to be distracted by, walking around the city and seeing all the light displays, stopping at the fancy bakery more often than not because you needed it. but the night came and the snow whistled loudly but it was drowned out by the echoes of niall’s soft and pleading voice that played in repeat on your head and his crestfallen and all too soft face was projected behind your eyelids. sometimes you’d dream against your will of being in his parent's big house, wrapped up in a blanket that he slept under for years, his accent even thicker due to being around his family. the two of you laughing together lying in the snow that probably wasn’t dirty and mushy like it was outside your window. but then you woke yourself up and forced yourself to remember that once the semester ended, which was on the horizon, the two of you would go your separate ways and you’d be nothing more than the girl who helped him pass a required english class that he’d never think of again.

pulling your sweater out of the dryer you quickly put it on, letting the warmth overtake you. walking laps around your small living room as if something new would appear the next time you went around. “oh god, this boredom really is going to kill you.” you muttered.

the sharp raps at the door had you shooting up staring at the wood. “i’m going crazy.” you whispered and then the knocks were heard again. you looked through the peephole to see your favorite brown haired football player leaning against the doorframe. dressed in dark grey trousers and a white turtleneck, you took a second to take him in. “‘ello? ya in there darling?” he asked, looking through the peep hole on the other side. this brought you back to earth and you jumped back. niall? niall was at your door. five days before christmas when he should be in another country, you yanked the door open, eyes trailing down his figure as if to check if he was real.

“‘ello darling!” he smirked.

“niall, what are you doing here?”

he just gazed at you, his stare unwavering as a look of adoration took over his face. now it was time for him to check you out. top half covered by an oversized sweater, falling just above the hem of tiny sleep shorts that he quickly looked away from for his own good.

“go pack a bag.”

your heart faltered, “what, why? ni- i told you i can’t go with-”

“not that. just, go get some change of clothes, or not. i quite like what you’re in now.” he drawled, accent dancing against your skin. but you couldn’t let yourself get distracted.

“how come?” you asked softly, “why are you still in london?”

his palm came down and rested against your cheek, his large hand pretty much covering the entire half of your face, his thumb resting at your jaw and his pinky just under your eye.

“i’m still in london because you’re still in london, my pretty darling. and i spent a shit ton of money turning my apartment into a christmas magazine spread and i don’t wanna sit there all by myself. thought you might like it… i know i would if you were there.” he said, hoping you couldn’t feel the tremor running through his fingers as he poured his heart out.

“i would like that, too.” you whispered and his smile split his face.

“okay, okay good” he said, as if he thought you;d say no. “alright well then, again, i’m a big fan of the shorts” you scoffed and tried to pull them down as much as you could, “but the other people in my building might not, if you want to get changed real quick.”

you nodded excitedly, “yeah okay!” you dashed back into your room, taking a moment to take a breath, then break out into a happy dance, practically bouncing around your room quickly packing your bag with a change of clothes, a charger, your toothbrush, and comb, and then the small, wrapped present you had tucked in the back of your drawer, niall’s name written on the label. you bought it a few months ago, just thinking of him, and now seemed like you could actually give it to him.

“alright, i’m ready.” you said, locking the door behind you. with your back turned, niall draped your bag over his shoulder and led you to his car. the snow had lightened, as if the weather knew you’d be speeding down the streets of london in niall’s ridiculously expensive car with the top down, cool wind whipping your hair back.

niall could’ve spent the entire weekend just driving around with you, the wind carried your giggles and light remarks at sights you’d never seen to his ears and in the middle of december, he never felt warmer. you pulled into his apartment complex parking garage. you walked off the elevator with wobbly legs, it was hard to believe this was real, that niall just came and saved you from your winter nightmare.

“home sweet home” niall muttered, turning the knob and revealing his decorated living room. the expansive room was decorated lavishly, complete with a shimmering tree in the corner of the room, dozens of blankets draped over the large, cushy couch. the kitchen was a different story, batter in places you could not figure out how or why it got there and it seemed like he ran out the door without closing both the fridge or the oven.

“don’t look over there!” he squeaked, covering your eyes with his hands, “focus on the nice set up niall spent hours putting together.”

you walked to the center of the room, taking it all in. hours earlier when he was setting it up, he couldn’t help but feel stupid, thinking that you would decline his advancements, or that he’d make the room look ugly, or that he’d royally screw up the cookies. but seeing you in his space, the gold light dancing across your face making you look even more cozy and inviting than ever, it was all worth it.

“this really is incredible, ni. w-was this all for me?” you asked meekly. you couldn’t fathom that he would ditch his family, and spend his money and time for you, but the way he was staring at you said differently.

“of course it was, i told you,” he said, lightly grasping both your hands and sitting you both on the couch. “i didn’t want you to spend the holidays alone, and i wanted to spend them with you even more. when we were talking in the library, you said i invited you because i felt bad for you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. i invited you because i wanted to spend time with you, i want to spend all my time with you, if i’m being honest. i tried to get the entire break, but as romantic as me ma thought this was, she said i couldn’t miss actual christmas. so this little world is ours for the next few days, if ya want.” his voice was so soft and so sweet and he was saying things you hadn’t even dreamt of.

you always imagined your feelings for niall would be a distant memory you’d look back on fondly, or that if you did, it would be full of awkwardly polite rejections that would ring in your head on bad days. but here in niall’s living room, the snow building up outside, and his entire being overtaking you a hundred times over, you knew nothing could go wrong here.

“niall this is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. y-you didn’t have to do this.” you began but he cut you off with a tsk.

“oh pretty darling, you just don’t get it do ya? you are the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to me. so nice and patient with me, making me laugh and putting up with all my shit. i want you here all the time and i want you as more than a friend.”

“i want you as more than a friend too.” you whispered and his eyes lit up like the lights strung above you both. “i think about you all the time. it makes my brain all fuzzy and my heart speed up, but i like it. and you showing up at my door today was the best- hmph!”

all you knew then was the feeling of niall’s lips on yours, one hand cradling your neck and the other resting laightly against your back. you placed both your hands on his chest and kissed him back, having no choice but to succumb to the feelings. as his tongue slid across your bottom lip, he pushed you back, falling onto the couch and his forearms held him up above you as he pulled away.

“hi”

“hi”

his smile was massive and you were sure yours matched.

“you make me crazy, baby.” he spoke, voice low and raspy, eliciting a gasp from you.

“i never want these days to end, i don’t wan t you to go.” you whispered.

niall looked between both your eyes, then back down at your lips, only for him to boop your nose, causing you to flinch. “yer so cute” he whispered under his breath, he knew how you felt, you’ve only been together for the past hour, but he was already addicted to the feel of you all around him.  but it’ll be okay, with you it always is.

“i don’t want it to end either, but we’re together now. and when we’re not, i’ll just visit you in my dreams.”

#niall #niall horan #niall fic #niall horan fic #niall fluff #niall horan fluff #niall drabble #niall horan drabble #niall angst #niall horan angst #niall headcanon #niall horan headcannon #niall fic rec #niall horan fic rec #niall x reader #niall horan x reader #niall x fem!reader #niall horan x fem!reader #rich kid niall #college au #niall fanfiction #niall horan fanfiction #niall flicker #niall horan flicker #niall heartbreak weather #niall horan heartbreak weather #amie writes

[sansxfuckyou]

Hihihihihi tell me about ur fics pls ::) (only if u want i just like hearing about them)

*deep breath* I am going to talk about so many fics

!!! DISCLAIMER !!!

Most of the fics i'm rambling about under this cut are my SNF works cause I like those ones the most, but there will be other ones. For the most part I'll be gushing because hey that's what I do best, but there will be world building elements added into the larger ones ramblings. All fics are linked, just click on the title and it'll redirect you to the fic in question, I hope the readmore actually works too.

Parlors and piercings

SNF tattoo AU, that's it, but wait! There's more, cause there will always be more and that is how we role in this household. For some reason my dumbass decided that Quackity, Karl, Wilbur, and for some reason Dream, all needed to be background drivers to this story which is most likely why I hit 7K. I only wanted to write a short little 1K bullshittery and be on my way, a little bit of crumbs for the SNF enjoyers, but uh, that didn't turn out how I wanted it too.

So I'm sitting there, staring at the 5K word mark and going, 'you know what this needs? a piercing scene' and then not waiting for an answer. I added it purely on a whim because Wilbur didn't have enough screen time and I wanted to make sure he got some form of banter with Quackity (who makes fun of him for getting a piercing). I wrote this like, four months ago so I don't entirely remember the thought process aside from the fact that I wanted one SNF tattoo scene to exist referencing a very specific post.

Also I never explicitly mentioned it in the fic but George works at a flower shop with Fundy, I think I was saving that for a part two. But it's been four months and I've yet to start a part two, so unless something happened George and Fundy working at a flower shop is VIP knowledge for anyone bold enough to click the read more. I do remember wanting Sapnap to give Dream the 'fuck you' bouquet with the help of Georges flower expertise-

Like your jacket

Not only is it the worlds first Kenikari fic, it is also the worlds first angsty Kenikari fic, and the first multichapter Kenikari fic. This one is a lot smaller, a lot simpler at that, basically I fucking hate the rolling rock sequence and took that out on Detah. He's my favorite he really is, and if you were around for my Danny Phantom era, you may or may not know that it changed me on an atomic level and I show I love characters by putting them through it.

I also saw Detah looking dead as fuck on the ground after the rolling stone puzzle and decided I should just, angst it up a little bit. Give him a broken ankle, it builds character, a bit of blood, heavy anxiety and minor gore never hurt. Don't worry though! He gets fixed up a little bit in chapter two :)

It's fungal not floral (yeah, specifically that chapter)

This fucking fic. I had so many WIPs going on when I wrote this, I had homework due when I wrote this, I had a family meeting the day after the night I wrote this. And guess what? I fucking dropped everything to write this, a moderately fucked up Hanahaki SNF fic where Dream is an unforgivable cunt cause thats how we do in this household. This shit pulled the E-brake on my return to Undertale brainrot, this shit pushed a rest button in my brain and threw me back into the SNF pool full force.

I have no clue how it did so, or why it decided to have an adverse effect on me, the author, but it did. It's been like, a month since I posted it, and I ended up deciding to write a part two for it as well, a part three waiting to be started. Since the release of it I've also hit 50K words of SNF cause it just, pushed me back into the deep end which really isn't that deep considering it's a moderately rarepair.

AND I BLAME ALL OF IT ON @sobredunia SHE CAUSED THIS. She dropped into my inbox and went 'hey Ace, what if you put mushrooms in someones lungs instead of flowers?' and then I did exactly that. So in this world George had mushrooms in his lungs (luminescent ones), has hollow bones, turns into a glowstick if he cracks his back, and he can purr also because of dunia.

Grounding

I was sad that they didn't animate the taser torture scene, or ever go in depth on the trauma that he would've left with upon being tasered half to death while tied up in an abandoned warehouse. And before you go wondering what fandom this is for, it's Yugioh, it's a fic about Yugioh, specifically the manga. I would heavily suggest giving the mangas a read actually, it's full of Yami giving out junior Saw Traps to anyone who hurts his friends and family.

More or less I threw Jounouchi into a brand new situation that goes over the past trauma of getting electrocuted half to death in a brand new form because sometimes a girl needs to write about her favorite dude getting tortured. Another prime example of how the phandom has left me forever changed- also they literally tied him up like this in one panel mere moments before the taser part.

Like, bro, chemically designed in a lab to be put through it and I'll do it if no one else will.

Just like you

Behold, the fluffiest fic I've ever written, not a whole lot is behind this one and all the props go to daydreamdnn's works for giving me a heady dose of inspiration. I just, the SNF brainrot man, it got me good, and then the notions of giving them a cat? Amazing, beautiful even, perfection in short fluffy oneshots with a sprinkling of suggestive themes underneath it all.

The only behind the scenes bit is that they probably fuck off screen, I don't know what else there is too it than that. I also like to imagine that they go back and get a dog too, said dog and cat mix like oil and water. Just a lot of fluffy potential is inside of this ficlet, a short sweet trail of crumbs for the SNF enjoyers because I know it can't just be me.

...

yeah, I'm too sore to talk about any of my other fics, cramps are a bitch, hope this satiated your desire to learn more though. maybe when my cramps go down I'll talk about them a little bit more in depth

#asks #h3xt0r #writing

[elderrolley]

thoughts from show number 13

if it’s too h-word blame @all-american-prophet for encouraging me

When Tom runs round and leans out from behind George pre-two by two, George looked down at him and smiled and waved hi 😭

Ryan as one of Kevin’s brothers ‘talking’ to Audibert by counting the travel pillows had me giggling

Tom dragging the glasses of George’s face is so funny I love-hate how much all the dad actors are ramping up their hatred for Arnold

Dom dancing a la Nic Rouleau in Hasa Diga is everything I’ve been waiting for

M-Jae dragging Dom away to hold the baby by his belt 😭😭😭 man corpsed

Rolley has nearly kissed Dom 3 times this evening what’s going on I’m so gay

He moved his hands down his body instead of holding them out to kiss him in turn it off??? let me blow u

Fuckin,,, forearm veins

im so gay he literally just called me a f4ggot

Tom looks progressively more scared as Rolley tells the Steve blade story,, homophobic Arnold era

he shouted ‘bam wham push it down’ and did a shoulder shimmy for push it down we love a camp king 💅🏻💅🏻

HE GIVES BEDROOM EYES SO HARD WHEN LEADING DOM like obvs stevie holds his hand too but bc he’s actually tall enough to make eye contact my god… mr rolley what if u held my hand like this… new bunda lengers CEO

Dom normally says ‘goodnight pal’ at the end of I am here for you but idk what happened, if he meant to say bud or whatever bc it just came out as ‘goodbye Ben’ and you saw him corpse

Rolley cocking his gay little leg up when Dom says to heck with rules lol f4g (affectionate)

Tom did the entire first half of Man Up up to when Dom enters with his trouser zip open funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen

the interval was here but most of act 2 was spent being h-word so apologies for the lack of equal observation this is about rolley unless stated otherwise

his reactions in making things up… so camp omg stevie u might need to fight him

got picked out during hell dream my life is so fucking complete best day of my life dropping out of uni to be his footrest

DOMINUC??? LEANED IN FOR THE HELL DREAM KISS??

MY GOD HOW IS DOM DOING THE COME HERE HANDS INSTEAD OF STEPHEN UM

the was i in it is so camp stephen stop looking him up and down

when Stephen says they can leave Dom out of it and leads Tom across stage, he gave Dom such a gay bitchy look tonight purr 😻

white trousers bulge and white shirt veins return i have missed u

he looked disgusted when Jack said tribal woman w/o a bra that’s one thing I’ve always wanted stevie to do thank fuck

He was so touchy feely in pageant everyone say slay

Post pageant when they’re getting told off omg he fully looked like he was gonna burst into tears and the way he was shaking his head when Naba said they come from their sparkly lovely paradise had me writing a sad fic in my head in the middle of the show istg

Also I mostly just got a little hot at the end bc it sounded like he somehow optioned up in his little verse (also sorry to stevie but that little arm thing he does on his riff down is so him and not Connor I literally hate it)

Also took a picture of a certain slice of Mormon bundalicious cake so 💅🏻💅🏻

#théo rambles #the book of mormon #book of mormon musical #visit number thirteen #dom simpson as price #tom xander as cunningham #amandla elynah as naba #stephen rolley as mckinley #rolley thirst #WHEN WILL I SEE OLLIE JACOBSON

[julek]

inspired by @valdomarx‘s post 

Geralt’s fought many monsters throughout the course of his life. He’s studied them closely, gathering information about their weak spots and their strenghts, the causes of their existence and the consequences their actions leave in their wake. He’s thoroughly injured many of them, leaving the monsters no other choice than to flee, to exile themselves into oblivion. He’s killed many, as well, mainly the lesser creatures, whose understanding of the living and their intentions is so basic and sparse, not even a patient and dedicated Witcher can make them leave without spearing silver through their bodies. He’s seen monsters, felt them against his skin, carried their severed heads or dangling limbs as proof. 

He’s never talked to one.

Sure, he’s sat down on a mushroom-covered log and gesticulated wildly at a group of trolls that were very keen on not leaving the pond they’d taken residence in; he’s screamed at a noonwraith to stop dancing around him and finally take a corporeal form; he’d even tried, early in his training, to engage in conversation with a particularly stubborn drowner, to no avail. Talking to monsters for anything other than bargaining their leave, or allowing them a few last words —or screams, or growls— had never been Vesemir’s indication, not to Geralt’s recollection.

Well, it hadn’t been. Not until Jaskier came along. 

Geralt has never had anyone trail after him with such innocent curiosity, smelling of jasmine and sweat but not of fear — never fear. He’s never had someone test his patience and his very extensive knowledge on monsters daily, never had to explain why both Basilisks and Harpies had wings, but they weren’t pretty little birds who just wanted to be loved, Jaskier. 

He’s never had anyone pull at his heartstrings the way Jaskier has, either. 

It’s infuriating, really; he’s a Witcher, he’s never wanted anything for himself. Never found something worth keeping. But when Jaskier makes it clear he’s not leaving, not even if Geralt comes to him smelling of death and decay, twigs and blood and something else entwined in his hair, Geralt finds himself stuttering, his breath catching in his throat. He never asked —never would— but Jaskier gave him an answer anyway. It’s in the way the corner of his lips go up whenever Geralt gives in and makes a joke, it’s in the way Jaskier’s body seeks his warmth during the night, inevitably tangling their legs together. It’s in the way Jaskier’s eyes light up when they reunite after the winter, nothing but pure joy and relief overwhelming Geralt’s senses as he’s wrapped in a warm embrace.

It would be awfully presumptuous of Geralt to dive headfirst into his own feelings without being sure Jaskier feels the same, but that doesn’t stop him. He finds himself stealing glances at the bard during his performances, watching him in his element. He starts to ration their food to favor the bard, almost subconsciously, always giving him the juiciest pieces of meat and the freshest fruit he can find. He catches himself offering Roach the minute Jaskier’s scent turns sour with pain, either from a roaring hangover or from walking in those gods-awful boots he insists on wearing, the ones that accent his breeches and pair really well with the color of his hair—

And just as he’d feared, Geralt starts losing focus. Important things slip from his mind, and anything that doesn’t involve Jaskier’s choice of soap or doublet or undershirt flies right over his head at a worring pace. It’s not a curse, that he knows with certainty. The pull he feels in his gut whenever Jaskier’s away has nothing to do with magic, the feeling of contentedness that stretches over his chest when they’re together is not potion-induced. 

They’re in a small hamlet near Vizima when Geralt snaps.

It’s dark, stars reflecting on the swamp. Geralt’s sitting behind a log covered in moss, not far from where he first heard footsteps approaching. He’s stalking a zombie, which is an easy task even though he hasn’t encountered many over the years. From what he’s gathered, zombies are rather innocuous, non-sentient creatures, usually in search of bones or small animals to take to their Bokor, their creator, whom they submit to. He’s not sure if such a small town could even host such a powerful sorcerer, but he’s not ready to rule out that possibility yet. 

The zombie staggers across the forest floor, its movements slow and uncoordinated. It’s muttering something under its breath as it bends down to grab a small spider, crushing it between its bony fingers. The zombie stands tall again, but stills as Geralt’s sword is pressed against its exposed breastbone, the zombie’s eyesockets boring into Geralt’s face.

“Show me your hands,” Geralt grunts, careful not to press his sword too far, lest the creature dissolves under its weight. 

Surprisingly, the zombie nods and puts its hands up, rotting flesh hanging from its fingers. They’re empty, and Geralt thinks he’s caught it just at the beginning of its hunt. He crouches down to check the ground, sword still in hand.

“You smell terribly, by the way. Jaskier would surely recoil,” he says with a chuckle, his mind conjuring up the image of Jaskier’s nose scrunching up in disgust. “Yes, if he were here, he’d kill you in a heartbeat, just to get away from the stench. Then he’d write a song about it, so your reputation would be truly lost.”

He picks up the spider corpse and inspects it closely. 

“He’s very delicate, you see,” he tucks the spider away in his pocket, “like a flower. I’m no poet, but he really is beautiful like a flower. A rose, maybe.”

He stands tall, ignoring the way the zombie’s mouth hangs open. 

“Yes... a rose is pretty and smells good,” he reckons, leaning his weight on the zombie’s chest. “Jaskier always smells good, and he always looks beautiful. And he’s so good to me, you know. He sees good in everyone. I’m sure he’d even see something good in you.”

The zombie hums, a low sound slowly making its way out of the zombie’s mouth, but Geralt cuts it off with a dreamy sigh.

“And it’s just so hard to work now. I can’t even concentrate during a hunt, because he’s made a habit of hugging me before a contract, for luck, you know, and when I move too fast I catch his scent on my skin, and I just can’t—”

“Kill,” the zombie slurrs, its face twisting with effort to get the word out.

Geralt’s eyes widen, golden slits shining in the dark. “Did you just speak to me?”

The zombie ignores him and moves its hand up, aiming for a weary gesture.

“J-just... kill me,” it pleads. “Please.”

Geralt frowns. He can’t recall the last time —if ever— he’s had a monster request him to end their existence. He usually has to fight his way through, and there’s more blood and guts and swords involved. Modern times, he thinks, everyone’s a critic.

He shrugs and drags his sword up, splitting the zombie in two. It falls gracelessly to the ground, and Geralt can swear he hears the bones rattling in relief. 

“Rude,” he says as he gathers the bones in a bag, proof to take to the alderman. He’s never had a monster critique his hunting technique, so he’s not sure how to react — what would Vesemir say, hearing a zombie speak to him like that?

He clicks his tongue and makes his way out of the forest. In the distance, he can see a candle burning in the top window of the inn, can almost imagine Jaskier trying not to fall asleep to hear all about his heroics the minute he walks in. 

He smiles, and makes a mental note to add to his bestiary. Zombies — sentient. Eager to engage in conversation. Nosy. 

#mywriting #geraskier ficlet #geralt x jaskier #i saw george's post and had to drop everything and write this #never was hunting so easy as when geralt's lamenting through the forests #killjoy

[spideyanakin]

Stolen Dance

Pierre Gasly x Reader

Listen to Stolen Dance by Milky Chance

Synopsis - Your ex bothers you about dating Pierre.

Requested by - Anonymous // I might have a Pierre Gasly idea! One where you are dating Pierre now, but used to date another driver. But no one knew about that and you haven't told Pierre yet. And then when you come with Pierre to the track, there is a bit of drama with your ex but it ends well?Just an idea, you don't have to write it if you don't want to 💕

A/N - I love this request so much I had a burst of inspiration

Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

Pierre Gasly Masterlist 🌻

You didn't mean for your past relationship to end badly.

It was a mix of bad circumstances and situations with growing away from feelings you once had.

You were both at fault, but he was probably more guilty in the destruction of your relationship than you were.

You were doing your best to spend as little time as you could with him, and the two of you could feel the distance getting larger every day.

And then he cheated on you.

He found that bimbo who was ready to follow him to the other ends of the earth, partly using him for his money and the fame that went with dating an F1 driver.

In the end you didn't really mind, you were trying to get out of the relationship yourself. The one thing that hurt the most was learning it through instagram stories.

You vividly remembered the image.

You clicked on Lando's instagram story, knowing he was hanging out with the man you pretended to like - and your heart dropped when you saw what was going on.

There he was, the one and only Esteban Ocon - making out with a barbie looking like brunette in a tight dress that was way too short for your taste.

One glance of her and you realized she was everything you were not. Coats of make up mixed with huge acrylic nails and breasts you could bet everything you had she paid good money to have this big.

She was everything you knew he probably wanted, everything you weren’t. It was like a video especially designed to make fun of your almost tomboy looks, or the way you barely wore make up or even took your time to do your nails if it wasn’t for events. To make fun of the to keep your relationship private, or the way you never posted little cute stories of him or Instagram pictures.

Because her story was already filled with him. Her last few posts were filled with his face and the ones of Lando and George Russell.

It hurt like a knife to your stomach. You would have said heart if you hadn't already lost your feelings, but you felt more humiliation than heartbreak. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.

Even if your relationship had never been public, you felt exposed. Like people would laugh or whisper, even if they never knew. It was a hidden wound that you didn't know how to heal.

You had broken up over the phone, and quit you’re job as Alpine’s official photographer and social media handler the same day.

Not like you minded, you had other offers.

Mercedes had offered you good money to handle the social medias for their FE team and take pictures of the races. Going from the loud world of F1 to the quieter cars of FE was a big change, but it was amazing.

Your team had been so welcoming, and the drivers as well - It was like coming home.

But what fully made your wound heal was Pierre.

You'd known him for years. You were both from the same town and had gone to Kindergarten together - went your separate ways for years until you both found yourself working in Formula 1.

Being in the same friend group you quickly realized you already knew each other. You often met with him when you were back in Rouen, and it would be a lie to say that Esteban hadn't been jealous back when you were still together.

Seeing him again after months of being away from F1 was enough to make you realize the chemistry between the two of you. Something you never let yourself feel when you were still with Esteban.

Then the two of you got together.

And little by little you found yourself longing for the race weeks where FE was taking place on the same circuits as F1. Because that's when you got to spend every little second of your free time with Pierre, and sneak in some artsy pictures of him.

That's when you got the little moments you cherished the most.

"Pierre." You giggled into his arms as his arm snaked around you a little tighter to keep you close.

"Yes?"

"We got to go!" You chuckled as you tried to push him away but his grip was too strong.

"They can wait for us." He mumbled into your shoulder.

"If you want my opinion, I don't think they will."

"Ugh." he rolled away from you and you laughed as you went for your phone - your eyes widening when you saw the amount of notifications that popped up. Your phone was over heating by how much your phone was blowing up.

"What the fuck?" You whispered as you opened instagram.

+99 notifications. Your follower count had tripled, you didn't even dare checking your DM's.

Your fingers flied to Whatsapp, checking the 700 missed messages from your groupchat with your friend group. The messages were still coming, and you felt even more confused.

'@Y/N'

'@PIERRE'

'@Y/N'

'@PIERRE'

'Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N'

'PIERRE PIERRE'

'PIERRE GASLY'

'WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY?'

'PIERRE FREAKING GASLY'

‘ANSWER US’

You clicked the groupchat, scrolling back up to the start of the 700 messages and your heart dropped.

There was a picture of you and Pierre from yesterday night, kissing in the streets of Rouen. There was more than one picture and even a video. It was very obvious the two of you were together, even in love.

Your arms were wrapped around his torso while his were resting dangerously low on your back. You were clearly kissing on the video, and in the pictures as well. The ones where you weren't, you were looking at each other with a loving look, or laughing at something the other had said.

You had thought you were alone, or at least safe from sneaky paparazzi’s and fans.

"Pierre!" The hand that wasn’t holding your phone went to slap his chest. He let out if a small ‘oof’ before opening one eye and looking towards your panicked face.

"That’s my name."

"Look at this." You shoved your phone in front of his face, his eyes taking a second to adjust as he started complaining that your phone was too bright.

When he finally realised what it was his eyes went wide. “Oh shit" he frowned and handed you your phone back to grab his - being met with as many messages as you. "Well, that’s also a way of making our relationship public."

"Ugh" you dropped onto your pillow, making Pierre laugh.

"What?"

"I’m already getting death threats from 14 year old girls in love with you."

"Bullshit." He grinned.

"Take a look" you dropped your phone on his chest and he picked it up to indeed see the threats. He let out a loud chuckle before deleting the message and quickly scrolling through your other ones. "Not only - look you’ve just got a ‘I KNEW IT’ from Nyck de Vries, and we already have fan art" he showed you and you slapped the phone away from his hand, letting it drop somewhere in the bed before shifting to hug Pierre.

"Are you sure this isn’t going to change anything between us?" You mumbled, suddenly feeling a little nervousness settling in your stomach.

"The only thing that’s going to change is that I can kiss you and hold your hand anywhere I want now." He kissed the top of your head and you squeezed him tighter into your embrace.

"I think we should answer that group-chat before they go crazy."

~

Ah race week end.

The first rawe creek since your pictures went viral.

This time, Pierre was holding your hand and the two of you didn’t think twice before trying to hide your relationship. But as much as you loved being with him, not only in the comfort of your home but in public; being able to say you were his and he was yours - a bad feeling had settled into your stomach.

The day the pictures got out you had received a text from Esteban.

It was one of you and Pierre's kissing pictures with the message ‘I should have known you were a gold digger, can’t wait to see which driver is next’

If you hadn’t been fully over him you might have thrown your phone from your apartment window - or throw screws into his tires. But instead you put that message somewhere in the back of your mind, and enjoyed your moments with Pierre, finally trying to enjoy a Grand Prix like you use to.

What you didn’t expect was Esteban showing up to say hi.

He greeted Pierre with a hug and of course went to hug you as well.

"You have no rights to text me what you did" you whispered into his ear as you dug your nails into his shoulders; hoping it would leave a scar.

Once you pulled away you glued yourself to Pierre, fidgeting with the zipper of his pants pocket as you tried to focus on controlling your anger for the rest of the conversation.

But sadly, someone called him to the garage too early. Something about his car needing an adjustment. You kept your stare focused on Pierre's back as he walked away.

"You didn't waste a single second, did you?" The instant Pierre was out of earshot, he got right to it.

"Sorry?" You blinked.

"The second we break up, you're all over him."

"Should I remind you of what happened between us?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "You moved on first if I'm correct. And it’s been months, I should be allowed to move on."

"Don't put this on me. We both knew that if I hadn't been the one cheating you would have gone-"

"Excuse me? I'm not a cheater, Esteban. I wouldn't have put you through it. I wouldn't have hurt you like that because if even if our feelings had gone I still cared about you, and I still cared about what you felt. So no, I wouldn't have hurt you like that. If I had wanted to be with someone else I would have broken up with you first, or at least I wouldn't have posted it all over instagram." You huffed.

You were finally happy with Pierre, you couldn't accept that he dared try to ruin it.

"Of course you get with another F1 driver. I should have known you were there for the money." He rolled his eyes, putting his hands in his pockets.

This time you were close to slapping him. You felt your hand want to raise itself, and it took all your strength not to.

You? Being in for the money?

You, who refused presents, or you refused that he spend his money on you for nothing. You did everything so that you wouldn’t be spoiled, or that he wouldn’t feel that way. But now he was spitting it out as if you had taken him for a walking wallet back when you were together, and like he wasn't dating a gold digger himself.

"I wonder who it will be next." He clicked his tongue and this time, your hand did fly.

It flew right across his cheek, and you heard his girlfriend gasp from the paddock. "I’m not the one being with my boyfriend for his money" you stare went to his new girl, and you bumped your shoulder into his as you left for the Alpha Tauri garage where Pierre was.

"Did you just slap Ocon across the cheek?" Pierre looked at you all confused, a smile almost dragging itself on his lips.

"Yes."

"Um- do I need to know... or?" His reaction made you smile and you shook your anger away.

"I'll tell you later."

~

"So why did you slap poor Esteban across the face?" He raised an eyebrow as he brought his warm cup of tea back to his lips.

"You really want to know?" You whined.

"Yes" he looked at you as he opened a box of cookies and handed you one. "I want to know what not to do, because that slap looked like it hurt" That made you giggle.

"You could never hurt me the way he did." You let that sentence slip. Your voice as soft as a summer breeze that came to flow into Pierre’s ears.

His heart dropped a little, the mood becoming a little more serious as you set the tone for your next sentence.

"Esteban and I use to date."

That made him frown.

"I- I didn’t know that."

"No one did" you played with the cookie wrapper, unable to meet his eyes. "And I’m sorry I’ve never told you before." You breathed out through your nose.

"Was it back when you worked for Alpine?" He turned around the kitchen isle so he could be closer to you. Leaning his hip on the counter to face you.

"Yes. We kept our relationship private, but we started growing apart before we could even tell anyone. I started making excuses not to come in to work. Saying I had some pictures to edit or some crazy story. I did everything not to see him outside of races. We- we just grew apart. He became cold towards me, and I didn’t know how else to react." When your fingers had enough of the cookie wrapper they found Pierre’s fingers who were flat on the counter.

"I guess we both lost all feelings." You sighed as you continued to play with his hand. "Then he cheated on me." This time you met with his eyes and Pierre opened his mouth to reply but all the words were stuck in the back of his throat. "It shouldn’t have hurt because I didn’t like him anymore, but it still felt horrible.” This time he seemed to come back to his senses and placed his hand on your shoulder in comfort

"What- what happened next?" He started rubbing comforting circles on your shoulder. You let yourself relax under his touch.

"We broke up over the phone. He screamed at me for making a fuss about it, and I felt like an idiot. I quit my job for Alpine and moved to Mercedes-EQ"

"So that's why you left?" You nodded, and he frowned as he realized something. "But that was months ago- why the heck did you-?"

"Slap him across the face today?" You titled your head in question and he breathed out a laugh.

"Yeah."

You let your face fall a little as you grabbed your phone from its spot on the counter. You scrolled through your messages until you landed on your ex.

"Here." You turned the phone around, looking away from Pierre as he read.

His silence started to scare you. Suddenly the fear of what Esteban had told you munching at your stomach and you started rambling.

"When we saw him today, he told me the- the same thing. That- that's why I slapped him." Your voice got quiet, but when Pierre still didn't answer and seemed to be frozen as he looked at you - you continued your rambling. "But I promise you Pierre- I- I'm not in this relationship for your fame or- or your money- I- I promise you I-" Before you could continue your sentence his lips crashed on yours.

"Hey." He grabbed your shoulders a little tighter. "I know." He chuckled. "Trust me, I know." You let out a thankful breath before bringing your lips back to his.

You rested your forehead on his, and after a few quiet seconds he started to chuckle.

"What?" You asked, with a small smile.

"I can't believe he said that and you believed it." He shook his head.

"I didn't believe it! That's why I slapped him!" You argued. "I was scared you would believe it!"

"Believe that? Believe that when you're literally the most annoying person on the planet when it comes to gifts."

"Sorry?"

"I can never get you anything! If it was me, I would have gotten you that dress from Gucci the first time you set eyes on it! But no! You said it was ugly just so I wouldn't buy it for you." You stayed speechless, he had a point. "And that Cartier watch you saw when we went there to pick something for my mom. It would have looked amazing on you." He sighed. "And I still want to get you that sports car."

"I won't let you, keep your money." You shook your head, your answer proving his point.

"See this proves my point." He chuckled. "And as you said, It's my money I do what ever I want with it." He bopped your nose and you gave him an annoyed look that made him smile. "Let's make a deal." You raised an eyebrow, curious as to what his deal was. "You get what that asshat said out of your head-"

"You did not just call my ex an asshat?"

"I just did." He gave you a proud smile.

"Alright, what else?"

"You get these ideas out of your head, and you let me make you more presents." You wanted to argue but his face wasn't one you could say no to.

"I-"

"Please?"

"Alright." You bit your lip. "But don't go too crazy." You shook your head.

"I promise I won't"

Be added to my taglist

#Pierre Gasly #Pierre Gasly x reader #Pierre Gasly x you #Pierre Gasly x y/n #Pierre Gasly imagine #Pierre Gasly fan fiction #formula 1 driver x reader #f1 imagine #f1 driver #f1 driver imagine #f1 drivers x reader #request

[wroetospotterwp]

Secret Admirer

Pairing ✨: George Weasley x Fem!Reader (implies reader is Bisexual and in Gryffindor <3 )

Summary 💓: Y/N receives a love letter from her secret admirer, only problem being she seems to be the only person in Hogwarts who doesn’t know who it is.

Word Count 🖊: 2,844 words

A/N 🗣: I LOVED WRITING THIS SMMM 

Warnings ⚠️: I can't remember if there's swearing or not so yeah 

Requested? 📮: no

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Y/N was heading towards the Great Hall for some breakfast. It was a Monday morning that felt like any other, her timetable was rubbish that day, she always hoped that Monday’s would just fly past and finish so she could get ready for Tuesday.

The only thing that got her through the horrible start of the week was eating in the Great Hall and seeing her friends. Once she walked into the Great Hall, she saw Angelina Johnson wave her over to sit beside her and their two other friends: Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell. 

She walked past many familiar and friendly faces before reaching her friends at the bottom of the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, the youngest four of the seven Weasley children. Smiling at them all as they reciprocated it.

“Hello you three.” Y/N greeted as she sat down in front of them.

“Ready for the worst day of the week?” Alicia asked her as Y/N grabbed some breakfast.

“Wish I had just stayed in bed.” Y/N hid her face in her hands to show how much she was dreading the day. “I have no clue how I’m going to survive my classes.”

“Just skive them.” Angelina suggested, pouring some milk onto her cereal. “Ask the Weasley Twins for some tips, they normally get away with it.”

Y/N considered the idea for a moment, they probably could help her miss her lessons that day, but would they want to help her was something else. It wasn't like she didn't get on with the twins, she really did, but she just wasn't as close to them compared to her three friends. They had all been on the Quidditch team together for as long as Y/N could remember, they were much better friends.

“I’ll give it some thought.” Y/N informed Angelina, something in the girl’s facial expression made it seem like it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, but why would Angelina want Y/N to skive classes with the Weasley Twins.

“Post is here.” Katie pointed to flying owl’s overhead with the back of her spoon. Y/N wasn't expecting today so she just continued with her breakfast, figuring out whether or not she was going to listen to Angelina.

Something dropped in front of her, Y/N chose to ignore it, thinking the owl must have misjudged the landing. But none of her friends accepted the mail, meaning it can't of been for them either. With a raised brow, Y/N picked up the envelope that fell in front of her, it definitely said her name on it. 

She didn’t recognise the handwriting either, it was quite messy to say the least. She noticed that it was some sort of letter to her.

Y/N,

I bet you weren’t expecting a letter like this, or maybe you were. Perhaps you get many letters like this, which wouldn't surprise me since you're quite obviously the most beautiful thing at this school.

Yes, that's right, not ‘fit’, ‘peng’, tidy’, beautiful. Never understood why words like that are used to describe people, they don't hold much meaning.

Look at the romantic in me taking over! Always had the Romeo inside me, what can I say? But I do mean what I say, you are really beautiful.

Not just in the looks sense (which you most definitely are), but also everything about you. Your personality, aura, the way you write. 

I promise you I am not a stalker, I just can't help but notice things about you that make me fall in love more. 

Perhaps I’m an idiot for saying the next part, but I think you may like me too.

If so, I know you’ll be able to find me. 

Your secret admirer x 

Y/N couldn't quite believe what she was reading, a love letter for her?! But who on earth what it from? She read the letter a few times more, trying to figure out who sent it. Angelina was taking notice on her friend’s face. “Something’s actually got Y/N cogs turning.” She teased.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Very funny.” She monotonously replied. “I just got sent a letter.”

“That’s all the news you have?” Alicia raised a brow, on a Monday the group needed some sort interesting news to keep them going through the day. “What a thrilling life.”

“It’s a love letter.” Y/N added on, knowing it would shock her three friends.

Katie’s mouth fell open as Alicia and Angelina eyes widened. “Katie Bell is very interested now.” Katie shuffled forward so she could listen to what Y/N had to say.

Alicia furrowed her brows at Katie. “Can I ask why Katie Bell is speaking in third person?” She questioned. 

“What did they say?!” Angelina asked Y/N, before they got distracted and started talking about what Katie did.

“Oh you know…just saying how I was beautiful.” Y/n shrugged nonchalantly with a smile. “Not just how I look, like everything about me was beautiful.”

Alicia let out a small gasp. “My heart’s gonna explode.” She announced. 

“Can we see?” Katie asked. 

Y/N nodded. “They’re handwriting is pretty rubbish, so see if you can actually understand it.” She informed them before handing over the letter. 

Angelina accepted the letter, Alicia and Katie leaning closer beside the girl so she could read it too. Y/N was expecting them to be in awe and say how sweet it was, but instead they seemed to be in shock. “Oh my god.” Katie covered her mouth with her hand as she read the letter.

Y/N furrowed her brows, wondering if she had missed something while reading the letter. “What?”

Alicia turned to the two girls she was beside. “I never realised.” She admitted, the other two girls nodding in agreement.

They had completely ignored Y/N, who was desperate to know what they had noticed. “What? What didn’t you realise?”

Angelina turned back to Y/N. “We know who it is.” She informed her. 

Y/N’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “From that?! You know from this?!” She pointed at the love letter. “Is MI5 hiring?”

The girls looked at each other, confused how Y/N hadn't realised who it was. “It’s really obvious, Y/N.”

“It really, really isn’t.” Y/N shook her head. 

“We can’t help you, that be unfair for your admirer.” Angelina replied. “They obviously want you to find them, so you have to figure this out yourself.” Y/N let out a sigh, how was she gonna figure out who it was?

“We can give a little clue right?” Katie turned to the other girls, Y/N hoped that they would agree. At least some sort of luck was on her side today as the other two girls nodded. Katie turned back to Y/N. “They're quite popular.”

“Good luck.” Alicia smiled as Y/N stood up from her seat, she was determined to figure out who this person was. Popular, who was popular? And just how popular was Katie talking? Just in their own house or Harry Potter level?

...Harry Potter level.

Maybe it was Harry? He normally didn't claim himself to be popular, he actually hated It. While not everyone liked Harry, there was no denying that he was the most well known person at the school.

While she was walking out the Great Hall, Y/N spotted him outside in the courtyard, talking to Dean Thomas. Tapping him on the shoulder, Harry turned around to face her, Dean leaving them be. “Harry.”

“Uh, yes?” Harry replied. 

Y/N showed him the parchment. “Thank you for this letter.” She smiled.

Harry’s expression did not change from confusion. “Letter?” He asked.

Y/N ignored his confusion, thinking he was just confused he got caught. “Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate them.”

“Right, here’s the thing.” Harry paused. “I have no idea what you're talking about, so I think it’s best if I just leave-”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “So you didn’t send me a love letter?” She asked. 

Harry’s eyes widened like it was the strangest thing ever. “Absolutely not.” He bluntly replied. 

Y/N let out a sigh, pretty embarrassed it wasn't actually Harry. “Oh, well, sorry to bother you.” Y/N was about to walk off, Harry briefly looking at the handwriting on the letter and immediately realised who it might be.

“I’d maybe look at someone else on the Quidditch team.” Harry added on, making Y/N turn around to see what else he had to say. “They might be on the team.”

Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion as she tried to think. “Quidditch team?” She mumbled to herself.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Y/N waited outside a classroom during her free period, hoping to catch Ron once he left the class. Yes, she was waiting for Ron. He did just start the team that year, but Harry and Ron were pretty inseparable, so he would recognise his handwriting pretty easily.  “Ronald.” Y/N greeted as Ron walked out the classroom. 

Ron looked around him, like he was confused why Y/N was speaking to him. “Yeah?” He replied. 

Y/N showed the letter to him. “The letter, thank you.” She smiled. 

Ron raised a brow as he read the letter. “What?” He asked. 

Already, Y/N was feeling less confident that it was Ron now. “You sent me a love letter.”

Ron’s eyes widened at what the girl said. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?” He questioned. 

“So it’s not you either?” Y/N furrowed her brows, who the hell was it? 

Ron shook his head. “What gave you that idea?”

“Harry said it was someone on the Quidditch team.” Y/N informed him. 

“Oh, right.” Ron nodded, looking like he was debating whether or not to tell her something else. “Well as much as I hate to admit it, the person you're looking for can be quite smart. Hope that helps you.”

“Thanks Ron.” Y/N smiled as she walked off. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Well this could possibly be the most confusing day of Y/N’s life, her brain was beginning to hurt thinking about who wrote this love letter. She went to Hermione first after Ron’s smart clue, she was offended that Y/N thought she wrote that bad but said it wasn't her. Saying that the person was ginger. 

There wasn't many ginger haired people at Hogwarts, so she could easily think it was a Weasley. Perhaps Ginny? The girl was flattered that Y/N thought it was her and said that if the girl just wanted to date her, she could have just said. But after that Ginny said it wasn't her who wrote the letter, and said it was someone who could be quite quiet when themselves. 

Who was Ginny friends with that she knew was like that? Neville. So she went to Neville about the love letter. His face turned bright red and he felt bad for how long it was taking Y/N to find out who wrote the letter. He told her it was someone who was good at charms. 

Luna was a good person to choose from that clue, but it wasn't her either. She said it was quite obvious who it was, which did slightly annoy Y/N. She knew Luna didn't mean it in a mean way, but Y/N was finding it more and more difficult to figure out who it was. Luna told her it was someone who enjoyed making others laugh.

Y/N was reluctant to go to the next person, she had a feeling it could be Draco Malfoy. Being careful with what she said, she asked Draco if he wrote the letter. Draco made a joke out of this and Crabbe and Goyle found it hilarious. Y/N politely asked him if he could just give him a clue, which he surprisingly gave, telling her it was someone who teases others. 

Pansy was nearby Draco, like she always was, so it wasn't difficult to find her. The girl was disgusted that Y/N even thought it was her, saying that Y/N was not pretty enough. Yes it stung a little that she said that, but Y/N was so exhausted of running around trying to find the author of the letter that she just brushed it off. Pansy told her the person was always laughing, adding on just how much it annoyed her. 

At this point it was lunch time, Y/N was currently chasing after Lee Jordan before he reached the Great Hall. Lee made a joke and said that the two of them would have definitely made a fit looking couple, but he said he didn't like her in that way. He added on that loads of girls fancied this person. 

Y/N was annoyed. She stormed into the Great Hall, she was so so close to giving up, needing some lunch before she got hangry. She plopped herself down on her seat, huffing before she was eating. Angelina was cautiously thinking about what to say to Y/N, seeing how annoyed she was.

“No, I still haven't figured out who it is.” Y/N answered Angelina’s question before she even opened her mouth. “I’m desperate, Angelina, who is this bloke or girl?!”

“I’ve heard you've been given a lot of clues from people. Put all of them together, they weren't separate.” Angelina informed her. “Also they're a troublemaker.” 

Putting the pieces together, it all clicked in her head. Finally, finally she would find out who it was. With a determined smirk on her face she stormed up to Fred Weasley further up the Gryffindor table. “Its been you all along.”

Fred let out a chuckle. “Unfortunately for you, its not me either.”

Y/N let out a frustrated huff. “I give up.” She announced. “Who else could it be!?” 

“Perhaps they share the same face as me.” Fred shrugged nonchalantly, Y/N’s mouth falling open.

Oh...

How could Y/N be so thick?! But at the same time, she was absolutely relieved to figure out who it was. 

“Where the hell is he?” Y/N asked Fred, who nodded his head at the Great Hall door. Marching over, she grabbed a surprised George’s arm and pulled him away from prying eyes. 

“Do you know how hard it was trying to find you?” Y/N asked him once they were in a deserted corridor. 

George’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I’ve been in the courtyard or the common room the entire day.” He informed Y/N. 

The girl hadn't been clear enough, so she pulled out the letter that’s been in her hand the whole day. “I mean trying to find out who you were.” She gestured at the parchment in her hand. “The letter.”

A faint blush was dusted on George’s freckled cheeks. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head with his hand. “How was it?” 

Y/N pretended to think for a moment, a cheeky smile on her face. “It was like a five out of ten?” She teased. 

“A five?!” George raised both eyebrows in shock, Y/N letting out a giggle. “I put my heart into that, thank you very much.”

“I loved it George, and your instinct was right about me liking you.” Y/N shyly told her, she too felt her face heat up slightly as she confessed. 

“How come you didn't come to me first?” George asked her. 

Y/N shrugged before she responded. “Didn't think you would like me back.” She explained to him. “I was too nervous.” 

George could tell what she was hinting at. “Hogsmeade at seven?” He asked. 

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. “Ask me properly, Weasley!” She laughed a little. 

George cleared his throat, taking both of Y/N’s hands to hold. “Would you, Y/N dearest, like to accompany me on a date to Hogsmeade at seven hours past midday?” He asked with the poshest accent he could do.

Y/N let out another laugh, her heart fluttering and her face starting to ache from smiling so hard. “That would be splendid!” She copied his accent. 

“One request.” George asked. “Can we not talk like this during our date?”

Y/N tapped a finger on her chin, not being able to hide her smile. “I would have to give it some thou-” She was cut off by George’s lips being pressed against hers. The kiss was short, sweet but passionate. Y/N eyes were wide after they broke apart. “Given it some thought, I’ll stop.” 

George gave her a peck on the forehead and gave her a wink. “Meet you in the courtyard later, love.” 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

AHHH I LOVED WRITING THIS ONE SO MUCH LIKE MAYBE MY FAVOURITE ONE!!! sorry there wasn’t much george until the end but i did enjoy writing the rest and i hope you did too!

(i reposted this, it didn’t seem to show up in the tags :) )

taglist: @malfoysstilinski @drearyxo @just-a-bittersweet-tragedy @fizzleberries

#wroetospotterwp #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader

[writernomore]

Can you do soulmate au headcannons for feral Bois + Wilbur please?

You are my Other half|| Feral boys + Wilbur

Please do not publish my work/ content to different websites and platforms, I only post my work here on tumblr and wattpad

A/n: I must say these were like the cutest ever QwQ

Gender Neutral! Reader

Dreamwastaken.

Okay for Dream's soulmate headcanons I like to picture that you have a specific sentence/ words written on your wrist that your soulmate would say to you.

Now, I like to think that you've met your soulmate but! You don't know that yet because of the words on your wrist.

Here's how the situation will go, so basically your a streamer (Naturally) and your friends with Dream! (Shocking :0) .

So you've recently been getting undeserved hate because of the way you play a certain game or people just don't seem to like you, sure there are your loyal fans cheering you up and all but there's just sometimes going to be someone who'd take their comments too far and it just gets to you.

So right now your on discord with Dream ( I don't if you guys want it to be the both of you are in face time so I'll leave this part vague so you can imagine which one you prefer.) and you are just venting/talking about your situation with Dream and you come to stop saying that you couldn't handle it anymore and that you didn't know what to do anymore.

Dream has experience to what your encountering, putting yourself out there and becoming a sort of influencer and gaining fame is that there will always be people to bring you down and love to see that they have left and effect on you.

" You don't need to listen to them, clearly, they don't know how amazing you are."

"Thank you Clay, you're really great too, I don't see why people seem to hate you too."

It was silent at first but then you came to a sudden realisation of the familiarity of the words Dream just told you, quickly pulling up your sleeve your eyes widen to the exact words Dream said imprinted on your wrist.

Looking up at your Monitor, you were breathless, there was a sudden change of mood and the both of you were just silent before Dream spoke once again.

"Hello, Soulmate."

Georgenotfound.

Okay, I think this one is cute but I always think Soulmate Au's are cute so here's George's Soulmate Au!

You have a clock timer to when you meet your soulmate and it's just the perfect one for this idea in my head.

So basically, your on your way to meet an online friend of yours, George or going by his online alias Georgenotfound.

You had been streaming for about a while now and you've met such wonderful people, along with George and other nice streamers on the platform.

You were looking out the window of your plane, as you were nearing to the UK, glancing down you notice the timer on your wrist had sped up and that it shows that you might meet your soulmate here in London.

You were ecstatic at the idea of meeting your soulmate at the airport, just like some cheesy RomCom you've watched before.

Going down the stairs of the airplane you go through scanning and you grab your luggage and look for George, taking out your phone you text him asking where he was and he texted back sending where he was standing, pocketing your phone your clock seems to have gone faster and that you might encounter your soulmate soon before you get to meet up with George.

Walking around you glance to see where George is, ocassionally looking at your wrist, but then you spot the man holding up a welcome sign you walk over to him but just as you were about a few feet away you put down your luggage and make a sprint running to him, to attack him in a hug.

10...

9....

8....

7....

6...

5....

4...

3..

2..

1..

You hug George as he carries you and spins you around, the both of you laughing as you look up at him and smile, it was finally that moment you got to meet him.

He sets you down and you look down to your wrist that your timer, you brush your hand over it and George grabs your wrist to look at it, as he examines it you look up at him in surprise, your soulmate was the person you were so desperate to meet.

He looks up at you and smiles even wider as he pulls up his sleeve and showing that the his timer to had gone off, he encases you in a hug and you chuckle wrapping you arms around his shoulder.

Sapnap.

Okay, so this one I like to make this that you and Sap are strangers in this one because, why not? And it would be perfect for the soulmate Au I chose for Sapnap.

Your Soulmate Au with Sapnap is You're deaf until you meet your Soulmate, and the first thing you'll be able to hear is their voice.

So here's how your situation goes, so given that your deaf, you had to learn ASL language to communicate with people(I make it that everyone has different Soulmate Au's, ex: your friend has the red string.) and it's sometimes hard to be able to get your bearings considering your deaf.

And hearing aids don't work as well, there's nothing you can do about it, so you just wait for your soulmate.

So, you're walking down the street after getting groceries, and you try to balance all the bags in your hand but they were to heavy and you were really desperate to not drop the groceries.

So you hug the groceries close to your body but you stiffen at the hand on your shoulder, you turn around to look at the person and they smile at you, raised their hands to sign if you needed help, dumbfounded you try to say something but you couldn't hear what you said but it was clear he did because he had this look of surprise.

And he puts a hand over his ear and looks at you and opens his mouth.

"Can you hear me?" You had the same expression he had but you nodded and then everything seemed to be clear and the both of you can hear sound now.

The two of you just talk to each other about anything you guys come up with relishing the sound of each others voice whilst carrying your groceries.

Karl Jacobs.

Okay, so for Karl's Soulmate thing I picked where your hair would be the same as your soulmates if they dye it and vice versa to your soulmate.

So basically you've had this love for gaming and you practically have been entertaining the idea of streaming, you loved people who play games whilst they streamed, talking to the people in chat and just making people's days.

And you happen to want to do the same, so basically you wanted to be exclusive with your appearance so you usually just turned your face cam off, but when you did people would gush about how nice your hair looked because of the colors you pick out.

Your streaming career had really gone well and you were quiet well known and was doing really well, the people loved you! (excluding the people who bash on you).

You've met really wonderful friends and they're just the nicest and most wonderful people!

And you have this friend named Karl he was really the best, you met him through Quackity and the two of you just really hit it off from the on.

Basically, you and Karl would be streaming later but there was a problem it was when you were with other people or felt the mood you'd turn on your camera but your soulmate decided to dye their hair and now you had the same exact color (awww and you were really growing into the old color too.)

So basically, when you got ready you joined the call with Karl(But you had your camera off) and the two of you were just playing and then you started ranting how your hair changed because your soulmate dyed their hair, Karl just comforted you and then when you were going to look at chat people wanted to see your hair so you went to open your face cam showing your hair, ruffling it a bit.

Unbeknownst to you, Karl happened to have opened your stream on his monitor, You went to talk again with Karl but he was silent for a while, then he smiled and went to talk about how he dyed his hair and he wanted to show the stream, you told him it was nice and was just oblivious to Karl's doing.

People kept on spamming your chat to check Karl's stream and so you did, you pulled up his stream and there he was, with his hair the same color as yours.

You started screaming and just yelled in disbelief letting out little chuckles, you went to cover your face with your hands and chat was ballistic (Both yours and his chat) .

Quackity.

Okay, so for Quackity I chose the one where you write on your skin it would also appear on your soulmate's (and vice versa).

So for this you use this as a form of communication since you don't know each other, it doesn't get personal but just little details about each other.

I have a feeling Quackity would draw penises as a form of prank and you'd have wash it off quickly because you know, it's embarassing but alas, you can't erase it.

It only happens to disappear after time or when your soulmate erases it.

So basically as payback to the little penises he draws you draw these shapes on your face, there are hearts, stars, and little doodles along with the words Kiss me!

It was all fun and games between you guys, and you wanted to share your little 'prank' on instagram, taking a picture of your self smiling and along with a caption saying how you pranked your soulmate.

After you had posted that you just decided to scroll through instagram smiling, but then your smiled had dropped and you saw someone posting a picture, their face having the same markings as you had drawn but you just didn't do anything and liked his picture.

But for a while it had been eating at you so you went to go and message him about being soulmates.

So you just resulted to doing it the old fashioned way and grabbing your marker and contemplating what to write, you decided to write your username and just left it at that hoping he'd check it out.

It was about a few minutes before your phone vibrated, opening you saw someone had DMed you, going on to instagram it was him!

You went to check out the message it said:

"I never knew my soulmate would be so beautiful/handsome."

"Hello to you too, Soulmate."

Wilbursoot.

Mister Soot, your soulmate Au with him would be that you have the same mark as your soulmate, it isn't some random shape but it's a specific mark that you and your soulmate would have.

I don't know how I'm going to be able to write this one so basically this is just how Wilbur found out you were his soulmate, Wilbur would be about a year or 3 older than you and it was your 21st birthday that when your soulmate mark would appear, Wilbur had already gotten his before you.

So the two of you are counting down by midnight in video chat talking and waiting for the clock to strike 12, you had been so excited, you've waited for 21 years for this moment to arrive, when the clock had striked 12 you quickly checked out what the mark was.

It was a white music note, it was cute and it was placed on your wrist, you smiled and look at Wilbur, raising you arm up to angle it so that the camera could see it and show Wilbur what the mark looked like, "Check out my soulmate mark." you found Wilbur silent but then he started giggling, "What's so funny?" You asked him frowning as you looked down to your wrist.

"I guess I finally found you, and you were just right under my nose." Wilbur giggled again.

You held a dumbfounded expression before looking down at your mark and back up again before shaking head, "I guess you found me." You said smiling.

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

I'M SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG AND THAT I WAS INACTIVE FOR SO LONG😭😭.

But if you guys want, I have a discord server It was so that I could interact with the readers of my wattpad book but it could be that you guys could see what I'm working on! Discord server.

Anyways, if you guys like my writing, why not and consider giving me a follow? ;)

#mcyt fanart #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt headcanons #dream smp #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagines #dream smp headcanons #Feral boys #feral boys x reader #feral boys imagine #feral boys headcanons #wilbursoot #wilbur x reader #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #soulmate x reader #soulmate au

[vicea]

techno and dreams dynamic tho :c so good so pure. how dream said now they're closer and he doesn't want to jeopardize that by doing another big competitive thing against him (even though we'd all be happy to see it and they'd get so much clout) im luv them

oh my god how I literally have been waiting for this moment. technoblade and dream... the OP duo... the “Make-A-Wish” team... I MISS them so MUCH God when they work together, when they team together, when they have interactions I get so excited because there’s not a dull moment with these minecraft nerds.

you already mentioned one thing that literally lives in my head rent free and it’s the fact that dream said the main reason why he doesn’t want to do a manhunt against techno is because he does not want to make this “rival” status of theirs into this enemy thing between communities and between them because they’re friends and he doesn’t want to lose that- and like 🥺 dream really cherishes their friendship a lot !! and respects techno so so much. he’s always been such a big fan of his and they’re both overall super supportive of each other under the whole rivals bit:

exhibit A 

exhibit B <- also has a link to techno and dream wholesome friendship moments where techno is seen being a dream stan (said it himself in minecraft chat) as well (for clout but lets ignore that part) and also being really supportive after the mrbeast duel 

exhibit C techno referencing road trip here GGhhhHHGH 

like i remember his first message to techno on discord was to team with him for minecraft monday too albeit probably for clout but lets be real this clout chase between them is a mutual thing and they both don’t mind at all. plus it’s fucking OP as hell

another thing that lives in my head rent free is the fact that dream wanted to just vc techno when they were the only ones on the dream smp and just wanted to talk (before sap, george, and bbh crashed their VC LOL) like... that’s crumbs yo. CRUMBS for rivalsblr.  and also we cannot forget the infamous “dream is homeless bit” by techno... how dream had techno’s livestream pulled up and was listening in to his every joke and playing along by making a small diary and writing everything word for word that techno said as a joke. and then this part here too. like they easily bounce off of each other so well,, more interactions please.

GOD I cannot emphasize HOW funny it is whenever dream is trying to do lore and Techno is just pulling his “breaking the fourth wall” jokes in the middle (as he always does) because Techno would just be reading his donations aloud and dream would be patient and just barely tolerate it at first then BLOW UP AFTER THE FOURTH TIME OR SMTH. LIKE TECHNO LOVES PUSHING HIS BUTTONS ITS HILARIOUS god i love them

okay this is more dream smp lore related but like,,, c!dream being the only one that ever really stayed true to his word and never betrayed c!techno... and c!techno agreeing wholeheartedly, but then like both of them explicitly stating that they aren’t friends. we love to see it !! stating and !! respecting !! each other’s boundaries whilst blowing up countries together 😎 (like yeah i get it, both of them saw an advantage and took it but let me HAVE MY CRUMBS PLEASE) also dream and techno teaming up with tommy during the battle of the lake and winning... that was fucking epic and before the 3rd explosion of lmanberg and tommy’s betrayal against techno - techno goes “is this where you turn in your favor?” but then dream is like “pft what No you already wanted to blow up lmanberg” and techno goes “you know me so well dream” BHBJBJBHJ (SYNDICATE!DREAM COME TRUE OR ELSE)

OKAY also lmao I think it is always so funny every time I am reminded of how fucking sweaty dream and techno are even in the dream smp lore. Like the two standing facts of how dream literally made a WHOLE ass fucking obsidian grid above lmanberg with his fucking rapid TNT dropping thing and techno 1. breeding probably over hundreds of wolves as his army and 2. grinding for... way too many wither skulls. and both of them were on the same side. like holy shit they really know how to blow a country up.

also lets not forget the fact that once for buildmart, techno and dream “cheated” the MCC system by learning the builds for build mart (they were on separate teams too)- techno saying “there are 26 builds” and dream was like “actually 27″ they are absolute SWEATY NERDS and I LOVE THEM for that

speaking of MCC... when dream and techno teamed up that one time it was probably both relieving and stressful at the same time. because 1. they both play MCC competitively but in the case they are teammates, they will be more confident in each other’s skills and be like “oh i have dream/techno, they can do the heavy lifting.” whilst at the same time 2. because they are competitive and rivals, they want to outdo each other, they want to show off to each other as well you know?? like “I beat you in parkour” or “i outlived you in battle box” but also we’re on the same team and still winning LOL SO IT’S AN EZ DUBBB

OH WAIT and also that one time in minecraft bingo... i remember seeing a comparison of them being nervous due to the time pressure and it’s funniest thing ever. Dream talking really fast about what materials he has and asking questions to techno whilst techno is like the buffering noise. i love how complete opposites they can be 

... we were robbed of rivalsblr content too from that one masquerade party one... could’ve had it all...

anyway! in conclusion, i’m going to drop some more rivalsblr crumbs here and here and god i love their dynamic so much please give me more content of them and also dream smp related- get c!techno to find out canonically that c!dream is imprisoned and being tortured. have him Feel Revenge for someone he didn’t consider a friend just an ally who had a common goals. and free c!dream and have a happy ending of them being besties who spar every day wooooo 

just like i said with tommy’s post... fuck continuity, fuck plot holes. just want techno + dream interactions.

#dreamwastaken #technoblade #rivalsblr #dream smp #long post #rambles #vi's asks #thank you anon. thank u sm. i needed to gush about them somewhere SOMETIME. that is now. #cw torture mention #<- about c!dream :weary:

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Wow - the response i received in a little under 24 hours since i posted the first taste of part 1 has truly bowled me over! I wasn't expecting that reaction & tbh i would have been happy if 2 people wanted to read this story hahaha! So, i've been writing in the background & the first few parts have already been proofed and are ready to go. HOWEVER! I am open to your suggestions so please please let me know what you think and how you want to see Amelia's story play out. As far as i'm concerned, this fic is as much yours as it is mine! So please enjoy this first part, in its entirety, and let me know your thoughts! Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 1 | prima parte

warnings; none - maybe a bit of angst? (what sibling rivalry doesn't have a bit of angst)

word count; 1978 words

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Sunday 25/07 5pm AEST. Updates will be twice weekly at this stage. Probably Wednesday’s and Sundays from next week!!

link to fic masterlist here

The world of football, no matter how big it may seem, is as tight as a close-knit family. Whether its management staff, senior players, scouts, academy players, business developers, medical team, groundskeeper - everyone knows someone who knows someone else involved in the sport. For Amelia White, it was a family affair.

Having grown up with her father as a senior tactical analyst for many different clubs throughout his career, and an older brother currently playing for Brighton in the Premier League, there was no opportunity for her to escape the fanaticism of the sport. It was what her household lived and breathed, football. Most would think that, with her brother being as successful as he is now, her childhood was shadowed by her brother's success but that's not the case. She capitalised on her ability to think both logically and creatively, and absorbed all of the information her father could give her as if she was a sponge, to establish a name of her own in the sport and advance her career in the sport. At the age of 21 she upped and left the comforts of her home in West London, accepted a position at Juventus within their graduate program & worked her way up the ranks to be their youngest tactical analyst by the age of 24.

So far in her career, the support of her mother, father & brother were unmatched by any. They were all so proud of her for making her own name, proving herself and succeeding in one of the most competitive football leagues in the world. She was smart, tactful, both meticulous and ruthless in her approach to her career and the success of her players. Because after all, they were her players. She worked day in and day out, studying them and their opponents, drafting performance plans and set pieces for every possible outcome of the play, so that they could perform at their best. They had her trust and faith, and she had theirs. This is probably what her family was most proud of, and wished her every success, until she was appointed as a tactical analyst for the Italian National Team for the upcoming Euro 2020 tournament. Which happened to be the same tournament that her brother had received his call up to the Three Lions. Which was the current level at which her father was a senior tactical analyst for the English National Team. The Euro 2020 Tournament was about to be a real family affair...

10 July 2021

It had been 2 months since she last had any contact with her family. 3 months ago, Amelia signed a contract with the Federcalcio, the governing body of football in Italy, to become the Azzurri’s tactical analyst for the foreseeable European Football Championship. In turn, her silky signature at the bottom of the agreement, also constituted a digital and physical contact ban with members of her family that were also involved with the tournament...her father and her brother.

At the time of the contract, and against her better judgement, Amelia hadn’t told her family of her opportunity. She knew her father would be proud, but her brother would be bitter. Her mother was switzerland, completely neutral and rooting for both of her children - but that's not how football works. No matter your role you have a job to do, and you do everything you can to make sure it is your team that lifts the trophy at the end of the tournament. So, on May 23rd her family congratulated her for another successful season at Juventus, and unbeknownst to them, said goodbye for the next 2 months. Until the day before the final match of the tournament, Italy v. England.

Her heart dropped when England won their semi final match against Denmark. She wanted nothing more than for her brother to be happy and for her father to succeed, but she didn’t want to have to go up against them in the final. Ultimately, she knew they were good, but she also knew that she could hold her own and compete with the best. Having a close relationship with her brother, up until this period, meant that she often paid attention to the premier league. This was a major benefit to her as she had already started analysing the azzurri’s opponents. It was her job to know what foot Raheem Sterling preferred to pass with, what direction Declan Rice preferred to take the ball up the field, what direction of receiving the ball did Harry Maguire struggle the most with. So that's how she spent the three days between matches, solidifying her knowledge of her opponents & predicting the plays her dad would be instructing the English team to complete, to attempt to outperform the Italians. However nothing would prepare her for the knock on her suite door, or for what was on the other side…

_____________________________________________________________

“Ciao Amelia, vieni con me per favore. abbiamo organizzato una visita supervisionata con tuo fratello prima della finale di domani sera. sorpresa!” (hi amelia, come with me please. we have arranged a supervised visit with your brother prior to the final tomorrow night. surprise!). I stood there in shock staring at one of my players & closest friends, Federico Bernardeschi. I was a person who didn't enjoy spontaneity, who thrived off of preparation and organisation. I needed the opportunity to overthink every situation so that I could prepare for every possible outcome. This was not my idea of a good time. Of course I missed my brother, but I know just how volatile he can be. Nevertheless, I grabbed my jacket and shoved my sneakers on before following Fede down the hall and into a blacked out van that was waiting to take me to St. George’s Park for my family reunion.

Upon arriving, and after a stern pep talk from Fede (who was my appointed supervisor for the visit - not sure I would say he was the most responsible choice but he did talk some sense into me) I walked into the main entrance and saw my father leaning against the reception desk waiting for me.

“Papa!!” I called as I walked over to him, ready to smother him with my love and affection. My father, Dean White, and I had as good of a relationship as possible, being that he was always heavily involved with my brother Ben’s footballing career as well as his own. I think when I came along, my father didn't know how to be a girl dad, so he took my mothers advice and just involved me like he would Ben. I was glad that I would be seeing him first, and he would be taking me to see my no-doubt pissed off brother.

“Dad, this is Fede, one of my players”

“Ciao Dean, it’s very nice to meet you but i am also her bodyguard for this evening” Fede introduced himself to my father and they exchanged pleasantries. I had a look around the foyer of the facility until I heard my name brought up in conversation.

“Amelia, come on. The boys are just over here. I don’t think you have long before heading back to your camp” My dad called to me. Boys? As in...more than just my brother?

“Hahaha that's funny dad, just show me to his room and we can have our screaming match there. Should only be about 20 or so minutes”

“Ben’s not in his room, we have a recreation room for the players and staff to lounge about and relax in. Pretty sure he’ll be in there. Come on, you’ve never been scared of your brother before. Why start now?” Before I knew it, Dad was leading us through some doors and into a large common area with bean bags, pool tables and couches - all occupied by current first team members of the English National Football team.

“Dean mate, don’t normally see you down here after 7pm. Oh look at that, someone let the trash in.” A loud mouthed player, that I used to adore as if he was my own brother, calls out as he notices us enter the room. And just like that, I shake off my nerves, stand in front of my taller & more argumentative bodyguard, relax my shoulders and stare into the eyes of Kyle Walker - daring him to challenge me and push me further.

“Relax Kyle, Benjamin White - your sister is here to see you.” Dad cut Kyle off. I didn’t need him to defend me against Kyle’s harsh comments, I could defend myself.

“Wow, I thought hell would freeze over before I got the opportunity to speak to you. Of course, I didn't realise hell would look quite like seeing you in that shade of blue.” My brother, Ben, spoke bitterly at me as he approached me from the other side of the room. This, coupled with Walker’s exclamation earlier, got the attention of the majority of the players scattered about.

“Ben, if you let me explain in private I'm sure you will be able to understand why things had to be this way” I tried to reason with him. Letting go of my always-defensive guard and pleading with my big brother to open his mind to see my side of the story.

“As if I would even talk to you right now, the night before the final, you’re probably here to try and get some insider information. Boys make sure you don’t say anything to her, she’s as sly as they come” Ben’s words were as sharp as a knife - but I knew what I had to say would cut him deeper.

“Ok that's enough! You are ridiculous! What did you expect me to do? Not take the job because you’re my brother? This is my career we are talking about here” I challenged him. “If you think for one second i stopped supporting you then you must be even more stupid than i thought. Of course this isn't the ideal situation, I'm proud of you for reaching a final but I'm just as proud of myself for doing the same thing.” I got progressively closer to my brother, who stood there with his hands beside himself, unable to get a word in.

“I came tonight to wish you good luck, to tell you I loved you, to give you a hug and tell you to stay safe and play smart. Whilst I still wish all of this for you, I now want you to know that I want you to play your best so I can be better than you. I can show you exactly how good at my job I am. I want you to know that no matter what way you play the ball, I'll be right there waiting for you. I am prepared for this, I hope you are too - so that it will feel that much more sweet when we beat you” I sneered at my older brother, who at this point, is quite visibly feeling a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

I take a step back, let out a breath and shake the tension from my shoulders. Breaking eye contact with my brother, I look briefly - yet confidently - at the other players in the room and take a step back. I turned to my dad, who was looking at me solemnly, as though he wasn’t happy with my outburst but understood it came from a place of frustration with my sibling. Walking up, giving him a kiss on the cheek and wishing him luck, I turned to look at Fede and began to walk to the door. This interaction with my brother, although supposed to be a nice moment shared between siblings, has only gone and motivated me to be at my best tomorrow, to prepare my players to go to war and to come out the other side victorious.

Part 2 | seconda parte

#football imagine #football fic #jadon sancho #ben chilwell #mason mount #declan rice #kalvin phillips #ben white #jack grealish #tyron mings #connor coady #kyle walker #jordan henderson #dele allí #eric dier #ben chilwell imagine #jack grealish imagine #mason mount imagine #football one shot #tyrone mings imagine #x reader #stephspurs #italian national team #jorginho #federico bernardeshci #federico chiesa #jorginho imagine #bernardeschi imagine #a family affair fic

[jiilys]

warm front

featuring The Line, also on ao3 here

//

“You’re a lot better at this than Ron.” Harry said into the phone.

 “Well that’s not hard,” Ginny said, not mentioning how she still occasionally picked up the receiver upside down. “Speaking of, he’s started growing a moustache since you left. It’s ghastly.”

 “Oi!” Ron’s voice, annoyed, in the background. Harry grinned.

 “Oh yeah?”

 “It looks like he’s got biscuit crumbs on his upper lip.” Harry laughed, and Millie glared at him from behind the post office counter, “Oh, lovely, he’s giving me the finger.”

 “I’ve started growing a bit of a beard actually.”

 “Come off it.”

 “Feeling left out?” Harry joked

 Ginny snorted. “Yes, desperately. Isn’t it hot?”

 “Well I think so.”

 She laughed, clear and quick, and Harry could imagine her, all limb, leaning against the kitchen cupboard curling the phone wire around her wrist. He’d bought the phone as a bit of joke before he’d left, and then as a joke she’d installed it, and then for a joke he’d rung her, and then this was how they talked now. Arthur had apparently worn a suit when the electrician came to install the power plug.

 “Isn’t it hot though? Bill says Australian summers are killers”

 Harry looked at Teddy, sat on the post office floor in nothing but shorts sucking an ice-pop. “I’ve been sunburnt in places I never have been before, but it’s mostly fine.”

 “Wow, sexy.”

 “Bet Ron loved hearing you say that to me.”

 “I’m sorry Harry, you want to do what to me? Put that where?” 

 “Gin-“

 “No, we couldn’t in my room, there’s not enough room. Lounge is better, more space. On the dining table.”

 Harry could hardly talk. “Stop,” he choked, “He’ll never speak to me again.”

 “He left when I said the bit about the lounge, said I was being ‘very immature.’”

  //

 Andromeda, desperate to get out, away, gone, bought the land in Australia six months after the war ended. She’d said it was because she’d always liked the heat, but when Harry got there he knew why. He’d never seen anywhere so unlike England, the Australian countryside was all scorched earth, red dirt, dry trees. It could have been a different planet entirely.

 He’d followed her six months later to be with Teddy, who at almost a year had hair permanently sunshine yellow, except when it rained it went as grey as concrete. Harry liked the spiders, sand, sunburn of it all. Sometimes, dumbly, he found himself missing sheets of rain, but only when it was so hot he could barely see straight.

 Mostly he liked how there was nothing to do there, nowhere he had to be. He was teaching himself how to drive, burying things for Teddy to sniff out (dog nose), going into the tiny town to talk to Ginny on the post office phone, and helping Andromeda build a shed out the back. He’d never used magic less. The days were long and the nights were longer, but it was so different here that that too felt right.

 He didn’t know when he’d go home. He kept meaning to set a date and then just didn’t, and then everyone stopped asking. It was stupid, but he felt like he’d know when he was done.

 //

 “Dad won’t let me see the phone bill,” Ginny said, picking up on the third ring and not saying hello, “It arrived this morning and he’s been locked in his office all morning with it.”

 “Oh, God, I can-“

 “Don’t you dare offer to pay for it. I don’t even think it’s that much, I think he’s just trying to recreate the logo at the top or something.”

 “I-“

 “Stop trying to pay for it- “

 “I’m not– “ Harry, who had been, was silent. Then: “Gin, please-“

 “No- “

 “But- “

 “Shut up-“ she said, unbothered, “Mum asked if you got the stuff she sent.”

  “I did, the biscuits were excellent. And the tea bags” Harry had cleaned out the tin so Teddy could use it as a hat, which he had been wearing for two days now.

 “I told her they already had tea in Australia but she didn’t believe me.”

 Harry smiled, “I didn’t mind.”

 “She said that even if they did have tea they wouldn’t have English Breakfast, or they would call it something crazy like ‘Australian Outback Breakfast’.”

 “How thoughtful of her.”

 “Stop being nice about it, it’s ridiculous.”

 “It was nice of her.”

 “Australian Outback Breakfast, Harry”

 “I hate tea and hate that it was graciously sent to me by your mum.” Harry obliged.

 “There we go. Killed any snakes yet?”

 “Oh yeah, loads. Bears too.”

 He could hear her smiling, “Bears, huh?”

 “All in your honour.”

 “Naturally. Still no success in seducing Millie?”

 Harry looked around to the post office reception desk, a stones-throw away from the phone, to where Millie– middle-aged, cardiganed, glasses– was pretending to read the paper and not hate him.

 “Haven’t you heard? Wedding’s in the Spring.”

 “Damn. Well, we had it good there for a while but true love always wins.”

 He laughed, and Millie gave him a look. He waved. She ignored him and went back to the paper.

 //

 Ron sent letters, barely legible, by owls that had to be nursed back to health in the bath.

 Harry, 

 Sorry for the writing but I’m on the muggle train because we’re going to Ireland for a few days to stay with her Hermione’s Aunt because she’s ‘dying to meet me’ (???). Anyway, Hermione also says to tell you that Ginny is thinking of cutting a fringe, because apparently that’s important. Apparently girls do that in a crisis, or whatever, she’ll write and explain it. 

 Ginny is basically living at ours now. The other day she put a Hollyhead Harpies poster up in the living room and when I tried to charm it off all the players screaming at me like Sirius’s fucking mum, so I just moved the cabinet in front of it. Bloody nightmare. 

 Honestly it isn’t even half bad having her around, she knows all these drinking games and set up your room and sometimes has a go reading over Hermione’s policy reports to the Ministry when I’ve sworn off them. Do not tell her I don’t mind her being round she’ll be annoying about it. I’m getting that Harpies poster off the wall.

 Hope Teddy is good and everyone is demanding more photos as usual. All Victorie has to do is chew the carpet around here and everyone gets a bit teary, including me. George jinxed Perce’s glasses into binonoulars the other day and for a weird second everything felt like before and Vic giggled and then George looked like he’d been hit the fucking nightbus. I don’t even know how to explain it– kids really just have no idea about any of it. 

 Hope Andromeda is good and that the driving is going better. Dad’s framing all of the phone bills he gets which Gin probably already mentioned but I can’t tell you how weird it is to go into my old room and it’s just a bunch of framed bills. Hermione says hello which I’ve already written but she said I didn’t make it clear enough. 

 We miss you mate. Home soon yeah? 

Ron 

  //

 Often, he thought of the week he’d told them he was leaving. Hermione, drunk, talking to Ginny on the patio of the burrow when she thought everyone was inside. It makes sense, really, she’d said, He’s never been anywhere he wasn’t hunted too. Ron had looked at him and then loudly dropped his firewhiskey and the girls had jumped, turned around, stopped talking, but still. He’s never been anywhere he wasn’t hunted too. Huh.

 //

 “How’s driving?”

 “Oh, fine. I killed a swan.” Harry said, demoralised. Ginny laughed for a good two minutes.

 “What?” 

 “I hit the wrong pedal and speed up instead of slowing down. I didn’t know what to do so I just moved it off to the side of the road.”

 “Ah, the Boy who Lived strikes again.”

 “Stop,” He was smiling, “What if Teddy had seen it?”

 “He’s not even two. He probably would have thought it was, like, having a lie down or something.”

 Harry was laughing now, “A lie down?”

 “Yeah, a spontaneous, truck-induced–“

 “–Permanent–“

 “–Permanent, lie-down. I’m almost jealous now actually.”

 //

 Andromeda was in her garden a lot. Getting anything to grow was near impossible, but she wouldn’t stop working at it. She kept saying that soon they’d be able to have a green beans salad, so Harry just drove to a market and stuck a few green beans in the ground to make her laugh. As a sort of joke they’d started calling the land ‘the farm’ even though nothing ever grew here.

 They took Teddy to the ocean for the first time and his eyes went blue the second he saw it. The beach where they’d buried Dobby was overcast, water as grey as dishwater, but here the it glittered like glass, blue light come alive. Teddy sat in the shallows, trying to flatten waves with his fists, laughing.

 Andromeda sat on a towel by the dunes under an enormous hat, tears running down her face, abruptly laughing when Teddy tried to eat sand or fell over a sandcastle. Harry knew how she felt. Impossible, how two years ago Teddy had two living parents and Harry had been seventeen, dead and walking, and now they were sat on the beach, people they loved dead for real, as Harry and Teddy lined up shells on the shore.  

 //

 It was three in the morning but Harry snuck in through a backdoor, cloak on, having to jimmy the lock because he forgot his wand. The streets were pitch black, only three streetlights in the whole main street, with two of them not working anyway.

 “Why’re you awake?” Ginny said lightning quick, knowing the time difference by heart, and Harry’s chest unlocked. It was stupidly comforting, Ginny’s voice, how she never said hello on the phone because she never learned, how if he really made her laugh she’d hold the receiver away from her, like he wasn’t desperate to hear it.

 “I thought I saw Sirius today,” he couldn’t stop himself, “There was a dog on the farm and it was huge and I thought– I forgot he was dead. Isn’t that stupid?”

 There was only Ginny’s breath down the phone. Picture: her in the kitchen, gripping the receiver, still. The memory looped in his brain, how Sirius’ name had risen in his throat, how odd it felt there, how long it had been since he’d said it aloud. 

 “No.” He almost didn’t hear her it’s so quiet, “I went to the shop yesterday and asked Ron if Fred was in the back. I forget too.”

 His heart slowed, the memory of the shop: solid and real, running again, made for laughing, rose up, only then he shut his eyes and saw everyone laid out in rows, glassy eyes, and somehow he was walking through the forest again, going to die, but not soon enough– 

 “Harry.” Ginny’s voice, dragging him back to earth, “You did everything you could. Sirius knew. Everyone knew. No one could have done better.” She sounded so sure, voice as clear as glass, he’d be a fool not to believe her, “It hurts because they loved us. They loved us. That’s the part to remember.”

 //

  “You are kidding-!” This time Harry didn’t say hello.

 “I’m sorry, who is this?”

 “Harpies reserve!” Harry was yelling in the post office and Millie looked appalled, “They’ll promote you in two weeks, you genius, I knew it– “

 “I’m sorry I really have no idea who this is.”

 “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”

 “I sent the letter!” Ginny dropped the joke, indignant.

 “We spoke two days ago! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me then–”

 “–I sent our fastest owl.”

 “Marius is currently passed out in the sink–“ 

 Ginny laughed, “I wanted you to get the letter,” she said, finally, “I wanted you to see it. Did you see Madeline McKinnon signed it?”

 She sounded like a kid. He grinned. “I did.”

 “Best beater this century sent a letter to my house, asking me to be on her team. Madness. The English team are after her you know, it’s all over the Prophet.” 

 “I hope you’re not expecting me to send the letter back because I think that really will finish Marius off.”

 “Please, you think I sent the real thing? Dad made twenty copies. He hung two on Ron and Hermione’s fridge and sent one to Aunty Muriel.”

 Harry grinned, “You’re brilliant, I’m hanging my copy on the front door, framed.”

 “The moving logo may cause problems for the muggles”

 “Who cares? I want to tell everyone about this. Chaser for the Harpies–“

 “I’m a reserve.”

 “For now.” He could hear her smile through the phone, “What did everyone say?”

 “Ron said I was a traitor and that he was also proud. Mum cried. Hermione promised to actually watch a game, George reminded me about nicking his broom all that time so technically he was also partly on the team, Bill bought a season pass, Charlie hung a giant Harpies poster in his shite apartment and sent a photo, Luna sent me awful flowers that won’t stop smoking, and Percy called to congratulate me on my admission to the ‘Hollygrove Harps.’”

 Harry laughed, “Incredible.”

 “Yeah, Perce’s was particularly heartfelt.”

 //

 Harry, 

 I’m sat at the dining table and everyone’s still here, but Mum wanted me to recap Charlie’s birthday dinner right now because she doesn’t want you to miss anything. Hermione also agreed with this mental idea. 

 Dinner Summary: 

Food was good 

Hermione tried to explain the electric collage or whatever decides American elections to Dad, it was stupid.

Hermione says it was electoral college not the eccentric cage or whatever I wrote

George got Charlie a life-size model of the Horntail that he almost opened in the house. Mum had a fit.

Dad told a story about how the Muggle Foreign Minister ended up with a bathtub cursed to drown anyone in it. 

Ginny wants me to say Percy is wearing a cardigan Millie would be proud of. I do not know what this means. Better not be a sex thing.

Hermione says hello (again she insisted I write this down like it isn’t obvious)

Mum wants me to say we all miss you still (again, obvious) 

She also wants to know if you need her to make you any shorts (do not answer this) 

Charlie wants to say cheers for the gift – apparently they only do that burn cream in Australia and it’s hard to come by 

George doesn’t have anything to say he just wanted to be involved so I’ve written this so he’ll bugger off. 

 I’m bloody sending this now, I feel like a quick quotes quill (Fleur asks how you are). Have a good one mate. 

 Home soon yeah? 

Ron. 

//

 Sometimes, when he was driving home from the post-office just after the sunset, everything sat in the new-dark, he’d remember when he used to be on watch, sat in front of the tent holding Hermione’s wand with everything going wrong, and how only then he’d let himself think about Ginny. Her voice, long laugh, longer legs, telling him to move over, pass the milk, look left, met her later, skip that flashcard, relax, put Luna in as chaser if it all goes arse up– she’s Ravenclaw but I’ll vouch for her. Dumb hours spent on the Quidditch pitch, sun going down, watching her get shot after shot past him like she even needed the practise. C’mon Potter at least try to save these, you’re making Ron look like Wood. Her hair everywhere, laughing, head back, both of them impossibly far from the ground

 I really don’t want to die, Harry would think in the dark, wand out, ready for it, I really don’t want to die and miss out on you

 //

 Harry, 

 Sorry I couldn’t call but everything’s been nuts here and I wasn’t sure when I’d get to talk to you. Malcotti’s fucked her ankle so I may actually get put in for a game?? She’s been told to take it easy for a week and we play the Magpies in four days, so?? I’ll let you know when I can call. I’m currently writing this at the post-office desk and running late for practise.

 Sidenote: this express owl cost me four galleons so I hope it does a dance on its arrival or at least arrives within the day. Tell Andromeda hello and that I’m still rooting for the green beans. Also, good luck for the driving test!! I’m sure you won’t hit anything living or dead and/or drive into a lake, but also if you do just confund the instructor. I solemnly swear not to tell Hermione.  

 Thinking of you. Kiss Teddy for me, 

Gin

 //

 The click of the receiver: “I only have five minutes, we’re about to eat.”

 Harry smiled, “How’s home?”

 “Absolutely nothing to note. Victorie threw up on Bill yesterday, so that was a joy.”

 “Supportive as usual.”

 “Hey, I am supportive.” Harry could tell the phone was jammed between her shoulder and her ear, heard a knife on a cutting board, “Supportive of Victorie’s right to throw up on Bill whenever she wants.”

 “Are you cooking?”

 “I’m cutting potatoes by hand to avoid the lounge because Fleur and Mum are talking about how to discipline children.”

 “Sounds tense.”

 “You don’t know the half of it. Ron had to pretend to be on the phone with you earlier for ten minutes just to get out of there. He says hi– fuck!” 

 Harry heard the phone fall, “Ginny?”

 A scrambling on the other end, distantly: “You’re bleeding on the potatoes!”

 “Hi,” Ginny’s voice, a little breathless, “I cut myself.”

 “You alright?” Harry asked, quick-shot.

 “Oh, yeah. Just blood. Admirably everyone is showing a lot of concern” (Percy’s voice, distant and mournfully, “well there’s no way we can eat these now”) 

 //

 He thought about going home sometimes, about the flat with Ron and Hermione he was currently paying for that he’d never lived in, what he’d do back in England. No one had ever come out to visit him here, some unspoken agreement they’d all made to give him space. Except, knowing Ron and Hermione and Mrs Weasley and he’s never been anywhere he wasn’t hunted to it probably was very much spoken, it’s just he wasn’t there for it.

 The thing is, if he went home that meant no more seeing Teddy every day, sitting around eating cereal, watching him walk into walls or turn his nails pink, giving him ice cream for lunch and strap him into the truck, driving around the farm doing spins just to make him laugh. Even after all this time Australia was so far from the familiar, every night him and Andromeda sat on the deck lazily casting cooling charms, looking at all the stars.

 On full moons Teddy got in bed with all the curtains open, blinds up, just to look at the moon. He couldn’t sleep unless he saw it. Harry wondered if he ever did anything like that, got pulled towards something of his parents without realising it. Quidditch, probably. Looking for something without knowing, not sure what you were really missing. Teddy’s huge eyes, the moon, and that familiar feeling: Stop, wait, I can’t believe I’ll never see you again. Come back, I wasn’t done yet. I don’t know how to do it without you.

 //

 It was pitch-black, four in the morning Queensland time, but it had been the only time she’d had free. Harry was leaning against the booth wall, letting the cloak slip, exhausted. Ginny cleared her throat in an odd way.

 “So, you know I hate asking about this. It makes me– I don’t want to be that person” She sounded, wrong, uncomfortable, like white knuckles gripping the receiver, “But everyone’s been asking and I want– when do you think you’ll be coming home?”

 Harry was quiet. All this time away– almost a year, eleven months, it occurred to him– and she’d never asked. She was the only one who hadn’t. “Oh, I don’t know. Soon, I guess.”

 “Yeah.” She said, unreadable. A beat went past, and Harry could feel the shift, how that was the wrong thing. He could hear her breathing. “Do you want– if you want, we could take a break-“

 “No” Harry said, so fast, “No, no I don’t want that. Do you want that?”

 “No. No. I just– I don’t want this to be difficult. I don’t want you to feel, like– obligated. If you want like room away from everything I get it. Just tell me– I don’t want– Just tell me.”

 Harry’s heart was going into his chest like an endlessly slamming door. How to explain it? You wouldn’t believe the space here, all this room, all this time I have. I didn’t think I’d get it. I want space but never from you. 

 “I’m not with you because I feel obligated. I’m– That isn’t how I feel. I don’t want space or a break or anything.”

 Silence, endless, pouring down the phone. He could be sick. Then, Ginny’s voice: “Okay.”

 “I’m coming back to England, Gin. I’m coming back, just, when I’m– when I’m done. I’m coming home. Soon.”

 “Okay. I just wanted to make sure that this– that this is still good.”

 “It is.” He was so stupid. A war ends and everything finally works out, everyone safe for real, and he goes running to the other side of the world and doesn’t say when he’s coming home. Ginny, at home, getting a phone wired up just to call him. He had no luck for seventeen years and then it all came at once, and now he doesn’t know what to do with it.

 “I love you,” he said, which he never said because it felt heavy, full of gravity, and he spent all his time trying to make her laugh.

 Deep breath. He could hear her shoulders unknotting through the phone. “I love you too.”

 //

 “Harry?”

 “Ron?”

 “Can you hear me? Is this?– how do I know if this is on?”

 “It’s on,” Harry said, hurriedly, “Is everything alright?”

 “I tried to give Pig a letter for you this morning and he bit me and flew into the window.” Harry started laughing, “So I thought I’d try give him a break.”

 Harry pulled himself together, “Yeah maybe that’s for the best. How are you?”

 “Oh, the usual. The shop is still nuts so Hermione stopped by to help out on Saturday and ate half a Bile Biscuit thinking it was shortbread– hilarious. George threatened to charge her. If Ginny’s not at a practise she’s at our place drinking all the milk, and Luna came by the other day and threw all the stuff in the fridge out because she said it was infected with ‘Mimilice’. You?”

 “The same. Teddy turned his leg into the end of a snake the other day and I had a fit. Andromeda put him in the sink so he couldn’t slither away before phasing back. It’s currently 39 degrees.” Ron laughed.

 “God, even your voice sounds hot.”

 “Woah, mate. I’m seeing someone and so are you.”

 “Ha ha.” Ron said sarcastically, “I wish I could turn this up so everyone in the empty living room could have heard that.”

 “Please don’t try to use the speaker phone, you’ll accidentally dial the embassy or something.”

 “’Speaker phone’? What could the phone have to say?”

  //

 Teddy turned two and Andromeda make him a cake by hand with a spider on it that moved. He blew out the candles and looked bemused, sat in a top Hermione had sent, still holding onto a scrap of ribbon. Harry took him outside and sat him on his Nimbus Seven Series, entirely too long, and Teddy did slow circles while Harry held the end, watching him laugh, tiny hands grasping the handle. Suddenly, like being thrown through a window, Remus was in front of him, standing in the Hogwarts Hallway, breathless and happy, saying his sons name.

 //

 The post office has been closing for a good fifteen minutes, but Harry brought the cloak, pretended to leave, then snuck back and picked up the phone again.

 “I think I just saw Millie’s husband.”

 “You’re kidding.”

 “A guy came to pick her up, he had a hat on, she got in the front seat–“

 “What kind of hat?”

 “I don’t know, normal. Like a normal old-person hat.”

 “You didn’t say he was old.”

 Harry grinned, “You really thought Millie seemed the type to be with a 25-year-old?”

 “Hey, you’re going out with me after all–“

 Harry spluttered, “I’m a year older!”

 “Year and a half–“ 

 “You’re unbelievable. That is not the same.”

 “Just because you like younger women–“

 “I don’t like younger women, I like you, or I did until a few minutes ago. I’m now reconsidering.”  

 “You like me.” Ginny said, not really serious but also deadly so.

 Harry smiled, said dryly, “What gave me away?”

 //

 Harry had started dreaming of home, the staring in the street, dishes washing themselves in the Burrow, Hogwarts lake dark and silky as eels. He couldn’t tell what had brought this on, only that he was now driving into town every day to talk to Ginny, and now Ron, Hermione, even Neville were coming to the phone.

 “They miss you” Andromeda said, unprompted, drinking muggle wine on the deck one night after dinner, “Molly wrote last week asking if you mentioned when you’d be coming back.”

 “Oh,” Harry said, because he couldn’t think of anything else. “Do you think you’ll come back?”

 The question hung between them. Terrible thought: Teddy never back in England, Teddy growing up where Harry couldn’t see him.

 “I will.” She looked back at him, unbearably, and it was everything that went unsaid. 

 “How?” Harry asked, unthinking.

 Andromeda looked back out the window, the pressing dark, the unbearable heat. Even after all this time, making dinner, sitting on the dark deck, weeding the garden, she was still unreadable. Grief undid you in layers.

 “Because Nymphadora would want me to.” She said, simply. “Because I want her to think I’m brave.”

 //

 The post office shuts for a week because Millie goes out of town, and the place is small enough that that means it’s not open till she gets back. Harry makes it four days before apparating hundreds of miles away, almost splinching himself in the heat, dizzy from lack of practise, and stumbling to a payphone at the side of a highway. 

 Click. “Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

 “Yeah, I went out of town to call.”

 “Out of town huh? Miss me that much?” Ginny’s voice, joking.

 Unbelievably, Harry thought. “Yeah well, Teddy isn’t much of a conversationalist.”

 “Don’t let him hear you say that, you’ll knock his confidence.”

 “He’ll get past it. How are you?”

 “Fine. Well– actually, you won’t believe what happened at practise on Thursday, I hope you’re sitting down–“

 “I’m not–” Harry grinned

 “Squat then,” Ginny said blithely, “because Jacqueline has actually gone full bonkers–“

 //

 “My parents say its incredible “ Hermione’s voice, the only person in his life who spoke in a normal tone on the phone

.

“Yeah, we’ve been actually.” Harry didn’t have the heart to tell her that Teddy had found the Great Ocean Road blindingly boring and had only made it an hour in before him and Andromeda had decided it wasn’t worth the screaming anymore.

 “Yeah, Mum and Dad were thinking of coming down, doing it again.”

 Harry played along, “Yeah?”

 “Yeah.” She was endearingly fake-casual, “Maybe Ron and I would come too.”

 “Ron wants to drive 150 miles along a stretch of boring road with your parents?”

 “You didn’t say it was boring.”

 “Slip of the tongue,” Harry smiled, “What about the Ministry? And the shop?”

 “We’re thinking about doing travelling.”

 “The year we spent in a tent in various country-sides not enough?”

 “Funnily enough seeing the sights wasn’t top of mind then.”

 Harry smiled darkly, “If we’re going travelling let’s do Italy, or America, or something. Soon. Somewhere none of us have ever been.”

 Hermione left it a beat too long for it to be a normal silence, “I heard Italy is beautiful, the history there is incredible…”

 Harry could almost hear talking to Ron later: “and then he said if we’re going travelling, ‘we’re’, Ron! And ‘soon’! he thinks he’ll be travelling with us ‘soon’!. And Ron, “so you didn’t ask when he’s coming back then?, and then Hermione: “didn’t you hear? soon! He said soon!”   

 //

  He was walking back to the car from the post office one day, Teddy plodding beside him infatuated with a passing goose, with Ginny’s voice still swimming around him, the sound of Ron telling her to shut up, pass the receiver, I’ve got to tell him the Cannons score, and he walked into the travel agents and booked one-way ticket to England for next week. Just like that.  

 Stupid, really, how he heard their voices all the time (walking in the street, making a sandwich, fixing the plumbing) but had never made the connection. He was in the street like always, hearing the call all again, and thought I wish they were here for real, and then walked into the air-conditioning and pulled out his chequebook. It really was that easy. The goose was still outside when he left holding his ticket, Teddy squirming to get closer to it with a full-on beak that Harry was trying to hide with one hand.

 Home soon Harry thought the whole drive home, the thought expanding in his chest, the window open, his hair blowing everywhere– longer than it had ever been. Even when he got back to the farm, told Andromeda (who promised to follow in a year), made dinner, went to bed, he imagined he would feel different. Something huge and unfelt before, but really everything was the the same as ever. He just missed them, is all. He was learning that sometimes love really was that simple, that it was reason enough.

 //

 “I read that people sometimes make signs at airports.”

 Harry smiled, phone cord wrapped around his palm. “Saying what?”

 “Guess you’ll find out tomorrow.”

 “Oh, God.”

 “Don’t worry, no magic involved. We don’t want to alarm the muggles. Luna asked if she could bring her lion hat but Hermione got intervened.”

 “Luna’s coming?”

 “Yes, duh. Everyone is. It’s been a year a half.”

 Harry, who had had visions of kissing Ginny ridiculously for an hour in front of the plane, adjusted his expectations.

 Ginny, as usual, reading his mind: “Don’t worry. I’ve briefed Ron that I’ll still be kissing you senseless so he had better start getting over it.”

 Harry grinned, “Bet he loved that.”

 “He called me a cocksucker, and then I pointed out that actually I hadn’t been in a year and a half–“

 “Gin!” 

 “–and he said my name exactly like that, yeah.”

 Harry couldn’t stop laughing, bright red in the post office for the last time as Millie shushed him, “You are unbelievable.”

 “Well, believe me.” she said, dryly, “I’ll be seeing you in 29 hours.”

 Harry, also counting, ducked his head, grinning. It turned out all his best luck was waiting at this part of his life, who knew. Thank God, Thank God, Thank God. 

 “I’m going to be totally unusable, you know. The flight’s twenty-one hours.”

 “Yeah, you’re an idiot. I know you’re on a whole no-magic kick but this really is the limit. What are you going to eat?”

 “Hermione says they serve eggs and stuff.”

 “Wow, really? How?”

 Harry considered. “I actually have no idea. Maybe please bring some chips or something to the airport.”

 Ginny laughed, the best sound in the world, “Only if you bring me some eggs.”

#sorry this is late sorry to all my unanswered messages i had to post this today i had to get it away from me!!! #hinny #hinny fic #harry potter #ginny weasley #otp: several sunlit days #i have to run everyone is waiting on me sorry everyone i love you all lots i turn 21 in three days who could believe it!!! #carolineswritingtag