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fanfic-lover-girl · 3 months

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The HP Epilogue: JKR's trashfire ending to a trash book series

I was reading snippets from the epilogue for the first time and everything about the epilogue is just frustrating. And I want to share things I found intolerable about it to let off steam. These are MY opinions so if you feel differently, I am happy for you. But here is a summary of my gripes.

The names of the Hinny Harry's kids

James Sirius. Albus Severus. Lily Luna. I can empathize with wanting to honour people you love by naming your kids after them...but this is just overkill. Not one of Harry's kids has an original name. Not one! And I said Harry's kids because it seems like Ginny had absolutely no input in the names. If I am being generous, maybe the Luna name was hers, but given the naming pattern of the kids, I am sure that Luna references Lupin and not Luna Lovegood. Sometimes I feel as if Harry has a domineering vibe in Hinny and the kids' names are not doing any favours to combat that. Not surprising as everything about the Hinny romance was dictated by Harry's wants. Who cares about Ginny?

Muggleborne discrimination is bad but pureblood discrimination is A-ok

‘You’re right, sorry,’ said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, ‘don’t get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pure-blood.’

I could not believe my eyes when I read this. It's like Ron forgot that HIS family is pureblood! It's the same vibe as a black parent telling their black or mixed kid not to marry another black person! Luna is pureblood! Neville is pureblood! Do the Weasleys have some kind of self-hatred?? Another point to purebloods slowly dying out but who cares? As far as JKR is concerned, the wizards should be aiming to all be mutts with mixed blood :)

BTW the Scorpius/Rose pairing fills me with revulsion. I like Albus and Scorp as friends though! But not so much as lovers.

Marriage is the only way to be truly part of a family

‘Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!’ whispered Lily ecstatically. ‘Teddy would really be part of the family then!’

Got some heavy Hinny vibes from this line of dialogue. Harry did not become a true Weasley until he got with Ginny after all :)

I know Lily is a kid and she means no malice, but I truly felt disgust towards this line. It just bothers me, especially in the context of Hinny and how Ginny functions as a way for Harry to become a Weasley member. Teddy is Harry's godson, he should be like a big brother to Lily. How does becoming a cousin-in-law make him more of a family member compared to being her surrogate big bro??

Do Hogwarts alumni swear an oath of secrecy?

‘And you don’t want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts,’ Harry put in.

He had never told any of his children that before, and he saw the wonder in Albus’s face when he said it.

So James Sirius is telling Albus Severus exaggerated tales about Hogwarts similar to what the Weasley twins did to Ron. But how is this possible? Do the parents not talk about Hogwarts to their kids? If my kid was going to my alma mater, I would tell him/her all about the school when I went there. I don't understand why it seems like parents don't talk about Hogwarts. At least Draco's parents seem to talk to him about the school at least.

Muggle abuse is still funny Ha. Ha.

‘As a matter of fact, I did Confund him,’ Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus’s trunk and owl on to the train. ‘I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let’s face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that.’

Remember that Ron is an Auror! A wizarding cop! But nah muggles are still lesser than wizards so even a guy like Ron who's supposed to be a good hero character feels no shame in messing with their autonomy. Ron is literally so disgusting in the epilogue. Never thought I would end HP finding Ron the least tolerable of the trio when Ron is usually my fav of the 3. Not that the bar is very high for the other two.

JKR really does not like Draco

His hair was receding somewhat, which emphasised the pointed chin.

Of course, JKR can't end the series without throwing more shade at Draco. He's rocking the middle-aged man look, only has one kid and has a love interest that we know squat about. And then in CC, Draco's wife dies! Sigh, I really hate Drastoria...

All is not well

There is still house discrimination. Magical creatures likely still have fewer rights. Aurors like Ron and everyday wizards abuse their powers against muggles. Purebloods are dying out. Wizards like Albus act like they did not grow up in a magical world, aka wizards still have low brain cell counts. But sure, Harry's scar is fine so ALL IS WELL!

I can't believe there are people out here calling JKR a good writer! I see the vast potential of the book series and I feel so sad sometimes. I am so happy that HP never existed in my childhood.

#harry potter series #anti harry potter #harry potter epilogue #hp 19 years later #weasley family #anti hinny #ron weasley critical #anti jkr #draco malfoy #harry james potter #james sirius potter #albus severus potter #lily luna potter #anti scorose #anti drastoria #muggle discrimination #pureblood discrimination #draco deserved a better author

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thevoidisscreamingbackatyou · 1 year

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this is percy weasley propaganda

please go read some fics of my boi

he deserves better than what he got :(

btw dobby wrote the books. j*r? whos that idk

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cherry-pop-elf · 5 months

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How the Weasley siblings would react to you getting a tattoo inspired by them

Don’t forget, I take writing commissions! Don’t be shy!

William: Bill

He was shocked you even took his advice, but happy regardless. He was still trying to convince his family to get protection ruins tattooed on. They genuinely work. He’s alive after all, is he not? He’s so happy you got it. He is able to sleep FAR more soundly now, knowing you’ll be safer. He also, now, had more ammunition to convince the rest of his family to get one as well. There was also the fact it warms his heart to you it was him that inspired you to get it. That what he said really did matter, to you. You listened, and that meant the world to him. That alone was what made him feel flushed. Ah, his Habibi.

Charlie

He was waiting for the day. He’s drenched in his own. Often teasing that anyone who gets to close to him leave with one, like some kind of pox’s. Yeah, Molly never found it funny. But it seemed you did, since you got your own dragon around your arm. He can’t deny it. He’s a sucker for matching tattoos. There is something so beautiful about it, after all. So, it tugs on his heart strings. Knowing that the two of you matched. That a part of him was with you, constantly. But you never heard that from anyone. Shhhhh

Percy

He shocked, and rather curious. Now why would you go and do such a thing like that? He always found them rather unprofessional looking. Often sighting his own siblings as such examples. Like he was somehow better than them, because he had none. Yeah. You are totally cooler than a Curse Breaker, or Dragonologist, buddy. Keep dreaming. However, knowing why you got it has changed his views. Just a little. To see that you had a simple word on your wrist. His name. Simple, modest, sweet, and to the point. He still hated tattoos, but maybe he just hated them on certain people.

Fred

Loves it. He’s over the moon. He found it so sweet, and teases you about it constantly. How you are his, by law. Of course that’s not true, but you kinda knew what you signed up for. That ever teasing nightmare, the second that purple ink touched your skin. But, you got your revenge. Once you saw something familiar zipping across his arm one day. Oh the war you two had from it all.

George

He’s flustered, and flattered. He found it so sweet, and pretty adorable. That he had you inspired so much. He loves touching it, whenever you two are together. Tracing his fingers over the orange skin. He just found it so sweet. He had to return the favor, and now you two match. As him a blushing fool whenever you kiss his. Expect yours to be smooched in return. He just couldn’t get enough of it. He felt so special, and kinda different. He had something Fred didn’t, and now it was a nice reminder that they weren’t as identical as the world said. He had you.

Ron

He was wondering why you were so giggly, for a while. It all made sense, when he saw it. You were waiting for him to finally notice that damn flying car. It was one time-! Course now it’s the damn guardian of the woods, and makes sure kids get returned home safely. That was kinda nice. Deep down, he does like it. Loves that you loved his story so much, you wanted to remember it forever. Made him feel special. He deserves it, and you made sure that Ron knew he was special. Just like everyone else.

Ginny

Honestly, she kinda beat you to the punch. You both couldn’t stop laughing, when you saw each other’s tattoos. Seeing that quidditch broom flying was making her laugh that Weasley laugh. There was a reason you two dated, after all. Didn’t even have to say a word, and you two found a way to have matching ink. Didn’t even try, and it had you both in stitches. The hugs didn’t stop, as you two admire your brand new works of art.

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 1 month

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I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 10

AO3

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

The room was silent, nothing but the sound of calm, steady breathing piercing the air, a single beam of sunlight stretching through a gap in the curtains, snaking across the bedsheets in a thin, golden ribbon. Frankie was sat up, hunched forward slightly, picking at a frayed edge of the blanket as she stared blankly down at the foot of the bed. Laid back against the pillows, Rosie watched her intently, his thumb rubbing slow, gentle circles against the skin of her back, poking up beneath the hem of her shirt.

The second floor of the village pub consisted entirely of various bedrooms, a makeshift bed and breakfast, intended to make money out of the encroaching military population. With the Nissen huts so strictly segregated, the place had become a popular haunt for anyone hoping for a little 'alone time'. They came often. He liked to sleep beside her the night before a mission - to hold her close for what could always be the last time, to sit and talk somewhere entirely alone. Rosie did his best to avoid thinking about what else might have taken place in this bed - for now, it was simply their refuge.

Twenty-five missions. It was an impressive credential, a staggering achievement considering the almost impossible odds every pilot faced when he took off each day. And with it came the ultimate prize - a ticket home. Any man among them would give a limb for the chance - to never have to go up again, to truly live a life back home with their family.

It felt almost criminal not to want it.

But how could he? How could he burn for home the way the others did, when she wouldn't be there? When twenty-five missions meant being an ocean apart from the woman next to him, twenty-five missions was a death sentence.

"I want you to do it," Frankie croaked, her voice strained and quiet. His palm flattened against her back, and with a sigh she lay back, hair fanning out against the pillow.

"What do you mean?" He asked, brow furrowed.

Her head lolled to the side, meeting his gaze. "When you make twenty-five. I want you to go home."

"... What?" Rosie swore he felt his stomach sink, nausea bubbling in his chest as it burrowed deep into his gut.

Frankie shrugged, the sheets rustling with the movement. "You deserve to see your family, Rosie. You deserve not to live in a place that smells like oil and shit, especially after everything you've done."

A deep frown tugged at his expression as he shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to get a better look at her face. There was nothing in her eyes but utter, uncompromising sincerity. "W-..." He paused a moment, waiting for his mind to stop racing long enough to form a sentence. "What about you?"

She smiled, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, and he couldn't help but lean into it, revelling in the feeling of warmth. "I'll catch you up when I'm done."

Rosie let out a huff of almost-laughter, flashing a disbelieving grin as he fought to fathom what she was saying. "Are you serious?"

A self-satisfied smirk had wormed its way across her face. "Why not?"

"You'd seriously come to America for me?"

"Well, I have always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty," Frankie teased, cutting herself off with a laugh as he fell forward, lips hastily colliding with hers, one hand finding her waist, the other clasping the back of her neck. Her arms snaked around his neck the way they always did, holding his head in place as she reciprocated the kiss, smiling against his lips.

He'd wanted to marry her then. It wasn't the first time the thought had occurred to him, nowhere near in fact, but he wasn't sure it had ever felt so strong. If he asked he knew she'd say no - she'd say they needed more time, that they needed to wait until this was all over. He understood. If something went wrong, if he didn't come back, he didn't want her to carry his name like a badge of un-belonging for the rest of her life. If he could give her anything in death, he wanted it to be a clean break.

The kiss ended, and she was beaming at him, combing a hand through his ungelled curls as he pressed his forehead against hers. She would have given anything to just stay there, tucked beneath the blankets, feeling his breath against her cheek. Every time he climbed into that cockpit, his plane disappearing into the clouds over the horizon, it was like she was preparing for his death already, readying her mind for the news if he ever didn't make it home. Each return was a momentary relief, but it never lasted long. This was the last hurdle, the last bridge to cross before he was home safe, and she could put that constant, nagging fear aside.

A hurried knock came hammering against the door, and a groan escaped Rosie's throat burying his face in the crook of her neck, the weight of his body preventing Frankie from being able to move. She let out a grunt, shoving at his shoulders. "Get up!" She chuckled, and he reluctantly rolled over, pushing himself up off the bed with a huff.

The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he padded over to the door, prying it open only a few inches, his shoulders blocking the gap in the doorway and shielding Frankie from the view of whoever was outside. Pappy was already in uniform, foot tapping irritably against the floor as he answered. "Just checking, you do actually plan to fly your twenty-fifth, right?" He asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a minute, just lemme get dressed," Rosie nodded, waving a hand of dismissal. Pappy didn't move, clearly waiting for him, and he began to frown as Rosie didn't move out of the doorway.

"Mornin', Frankie!" He called over Rosie's shoulder into the room behind him.

"Hey, Pappy!" Her voice rang out in return, and Rosie sighed, ignoring his friend's smirk as he closed the door on him.

"Y'know, it definitely would've looked weirder if you were just up here on your own," Frankie pointed out as Rosie began hurrying to grab his uniform and put it on. "That'd raise some questions."

It was later in the day than he'd thought, and he almost tugged his trousers on backwards in an attempt to get dressed as fast as possible, stuffing all of his belongings blindly into a bag as he raced to make his mission. Frankie was only half ready by the time he was done, and he pulled her attention away from the tying of her boot by capturing her lips in a quick goodbye kiss.

"Alright, I gotta go. I love you, I'll see you later."

His hand was already on the doorknob by the time he realised it. Turning his head, she was staring back at him. He'd never said those words before. In a million different ways he had made it abundantly clear that it was true, but this was the first time he'd truly looked her in the eye and said it.

"Yeah?" Frankie grinned.

"Oh, you have no idea," Rosie beamed, slipping out into the hall. Pappy was still waiting, a confused look contorting his expression as he noticed the red flush that filled his face. Making a beeline for the stairs, his copilot was close behind, the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.

"Are you... ok?"

Rosie reached the bottom of the stairs, turning back to look up at him, slightly out of breath. "Told my girl I love her. First time."

"Oh! Congrats?"

"Thanks, Pap," He nodded, clapping him on the shoulder, unable to tear away his grin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been over an hour since the planes departed, and George and Frankie were sitting in the field that ran alongside the airstrip, propped up on their elbows as they lounged in the grass, sharing a bag of peanuts between them. The sun hung high and bright that day, and sunglasses rested on the bridges of their noses despite the slight chill in the air.

"So he told you he loved you," George nodded. "But you guys have been a thing for a while now, was that seriously the first time?"

"Nah. First time he'll remember, though - he says it a lot when he's drunk, but he's shy when he's sober."

She chuckled, red lips curling up in a smile. "Yunno, I always thought that guy was a bit of a weirdo, but you make me like him."

Frankie laughed, shaking her head. "God, you're a terrible person."

George gasped, head lolling to the side to look over at her friend. "Speaking of - you know Brenda? Red Cross Brenda? Well, apparently she-"

Before she got the chance to finish her sentence, Ken came bounding up, grinning like a lost puppy returned to its owner. "Heya!" He chirped, crouching down before the pair. It had become customary for the young mechanic to invade their conversations whenever he wasn't busy, eager for some company outside of his other sprightly, male colleagues. "What's goin' on?"

"Boooo!" George thundered at his intrusion, reaching for a fistful of peanuts and throwing them at him, a few pinging against his forehead.

"God, who invited you?" Frankie cried, her voice overlapping with George's. "Get your own friends!"

The hostilities were all in jest, the way a sister might poke fun at a brother, and neither woman objected as Lemmons wormed his way in between them, lifting their belongings out of the way to clear a space for him on the grass. Hands folded behind his head, he peered up at them, squinting in the sun. "So... what happened with Brenda?"

"Nuh-uh," George shook her head. "If you wanted to know you should've shown up on time. Those are the rules."

"There's rules now?"

"Obviously, we're not imbeciles," Frankie shrugged. "Get with the program or get fucked, Kenny."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, Ken, how's Fonda?" She asked, her voice taking on a singsong lilt, a teasing smirk curling her lip.

He let out a groan, folding his arms over his head so they couldn't see the red flush that had overtaken his face. "...She's good," After he wallowed in embarrassment for a moment, an indignant expression overtook him, and he bolted upright. "Hey, at least I'm married!"

"Yeah, at nineteen, 'cause that's normal," George snorted, fending him off as he tried to whack her over the head.

"I'm just sayin'! Frankie and Rosie gotta hurry it up a little, I think."

Frankie scoffed, throwing up her hands in surrender. "I... Actually, no, fuck off, I'm not going there with you - I'm sorry that I'm waiting to properly get to know the guy before I get hitched, ok?"

"Oh, she knows the guy, alright," George muttered, and Ken snorted a laugh, the pair letting out yelps as a fistful of peanuts collided with their heads.

"I'm content with my choices!" Frankie declared loudly, and the three of them stewed in silence for a moment before collectively descending into laughter, the sight of a dozen missed peanuts scattered in the grass only adding to the inexplicable hilarity.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was as if they'd almost forgotten what they were waiting for by the time the sound of faraway plane engines began to split the air, a familiar thrumming sound that sent an involuntary jolt of panic through Frankie whenever she heard it, her heart immediately pounding out of her chest as she leapt up, accidentally sticking a foot into the empty bag of nuts as she scrambled to her feet. She'd never felt quite like it, an equal mix of terror and elation flooding through her - fear that it might not be Rosie flying one of the returning buses, but delight at what it meant if he was.

Half of Thorpe Abbotts seemed to have turned up for his return, and Frankie almost burst into tears the moment 'Rosie's Riveters' came into view, George's whooping ringing in her ears as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, jumping up and down in ecstatic celebration. It took a moment for the gravity of their situation to dawn on her, but when it did she couldn't stop grinning, her cheeks beginning to ache. Rosie was going home. He was safe.

The moment he left the plane, he was swarmed, a dozen hands lifting him up off the tarmac, hauling him up onto the men's shoulders as the barrage of cheers and applause filled his ears. But the second he had slipped through that door, his eyes had found her, standing at the back of the crowd, clapping along, her shoulder leant up against George's. Their gazes met, and she rolled her eyes teasingly - he could almost hear her voice in his head, jokingly begging him to stay humble as he was carried aloft through the crowd.

They were cheering his name, shaking his hand and patting him on the back as he passed, but as soon as his feet touched the tarmac, none of it mattered. The second he was on solid ground again, he was making a beeline towards Frankie, brow raised in question. They were too far apart, too bracketed by ear-splitting cheers for him to simply ask 'Can I kiss you?', but she could always tell. With a smirk and a nod, permission was granted, and the moment they collided his lips were on hers, hands cupping her cheeks, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. A second, somehow ever more raucous cheer erupted, and he could feel her smiling into the kiss as her hands found his collar, pressing against his jaw. In that moment, even through the cacophony of whoops and yells, she was the only person in the world to him.

The kiss broke, but his hands stayed firmly planted on either side of her face, their foreheads pressed against each other, eyes locked. "Hi," Frankie beamed, speaking so softly that only he could hear.

"Hello."

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Frankie had never been quite so much at the centre of attention than she was that night. It was as if the moment Rosie had kissed her in front of everyone on the tarmac, it became her party as well as his, a celebration of just making it, of still having the person you loved at the end of the day. She'd showered three times that afternoon, desperately trying to scrub away the lingering smell of her work, and George had even made her put on lipstick. But Frankie couldn't deny it - she looked fucking good.

The band was in full swing, to such an extent that she had to yell over the incessant ring of trumpets just to order a drink, but as the night rolled on she never once felt Rosie's hand leave her - a gentle palm against her waist or back wherever they went, a quiet reminder that he was home safe, that they were going to be ok. Bailey had an arm around her shoulder, and her head tilted back as she laughed at one of Pappy's jokes, and for once they seemed to feel free - free to simply be each other's friends without having to worry about losing one another.

"So I said to her, I said "Hey Betty, you're gonna wanna paint those ceilings your favourite colour, 'cause you'll be seein' a lot of 'em when I get home," Bailey joked, and she let out a groan as the others laughed, gently slapping his shoulder with the back of her palm. Across the circle they had formed, Croz went digging in his pocket for a cigarette, and she reached out, holding up her lighter for him as he nodded his thanks.

Rosie's hands on her shoulders caught her attention as he slipped around behind her. "I'm gettin' another drink - you need anythin', honey?"

"No, I'm good," She nodded, raising her half-finished beer as proof as he stepped away towards the bar. Turning back to the others, she found Pappy grinning at her, sipping smugly at his whiskey. "Oh, shut up - what're you, twelve?"

"So you've been keeping it under wraps since Christmas?" Crosby asked, raising a brow in alarm as Bailey guffawed.

"Oh, yeah, 'keepin' it under wraps'," He chuckled. "Jesus, we could all tell from the day he got back," The other members of Rosie's flight crew began to laugh, nodding in agreement.

"Well, what can I say? I'm just that great," Frankie grinned, squeezing Bailey's arm as she shuffled past him, moving to follow Rosie towards the bar.

She hadn't had a chance to thank Kidd yet for giving her Bucky's jacket, and was already poised to speak as she approached, a warm smile curling her lip. But then she heard his words.

"Brass is upping the end-of-tour requirements from twenty-five to thirty missions."

Her stomach sank. Not just for the poor pilots, for every man who had been so goddamn close to getting to go home. But because she knew in that moment that Rosie wasn't done. Even if he hadn't realised it yet, even if the decision to stay hadn't yet crossed his mind, she knew him well enough. He wouldn't leave because he couldn't - couldn't give it up and take the easy way out when so many other, less experienced men had to die as a result of this decision. She loved him for it, but maybe she hated him a little too.

Frankie hadn't realised she'd stopped dead in her tracks until Kidd spotted her, his brow furrowing. Rosie turned to follow his gaze, eyes softening the moment they landed on her. "Frankie-"

Her glass went down on the bar with a thud, her desire to drink suddenly evaporated. "Thanks for the jacket, Jack," She nodded, forcing a smile. "That was really nice of you."

Before Rosie got the chance to reach out to her, she had walked away, brushing past them both as she forced her way through the crowd, the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears drowning out the sound of the music. She had begun searching for George without even realising it, spotting her familiar golden curls among a crowd of Red Cross volunteers. Making a move towards her, George turned immediately on her arrival, brow drawing with concern.

"Can we go?"

"Yeah," George accepted without hesitation, casting aside her drink as she shouldered her way towards the door, clearing a path for Frankie to trail along behind.

She hadn't realised quite how tightly she'd been holding her breath until they stepped outside, the cold air hitting her like a wall as she let it out in a gasp, running a hand through her hair as she marched around to the side of the building, sitting down on the nearest bench she could find. The wood creaked as George sat down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her knee and waiting quietly for her to speak.

"I have washed... so much blood out of those planes," Frankie said, her voice uneven, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she spoke. "Before I got this job I didn't really understand how much blood a person could have. Sometimes when they get hit by shrapnel, it tears the leather on the seats, n' the blood soaks into the stuffing. It's really hard to get it out then - usually I just have to seal the hole and leave it in there. But then it's like... whoever gets in that plane next just has to sit on that blood, like there's this permanent reminder that someone died there, but I'm the only one who knows it's there."

"Frankie... what happened? D'you want me to get Rosie?"

"No," She spoke hurriedly, shaking her head. "No, I don't-... I can't talk to him right now."

George turned sideways in her seat to properly look at her, raising a hand to swipe the hair away from her face. "Why? Did he do something?"

Frankie took a deep breath, finally meeting George's gaze, her eyes red and filled with tears. "He's going back up, George."

"What? Did he tell you that?"

"They've upped the number of missions the new guys have to do to be allowed to leave. Rosie's in the clear, but... we both know he won't take it now."

She sniffed, raising a hand to wipe away the tear that trailed down her cheek, and George pulled her forward into a hug, cheek pressed against her scalp as she rubbed her back.

"I'm so tired, George," Frankie croaked, her voice scarcely loud enough to hear.

"I know," She whispered. "... I know."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #pappy lewis #harry crosby #jack kidd #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man

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george-weasleys-girl · 7 months

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Hey love! I thought about George having a very insecure day (you know those days that you just don't feel good on your own skin and nothing is right?), maybe comparing himself to Fred and his other siblings, but doesn't tell the reader. And then someone mentions George and she just can't stop talking about how great he is and how amazing and loving and bla bla bla and makes him feel super loved and appreciated.

Maybe she is talking with his family and they all are there and she is just bragging about him.

I don't know I feel like this is super cute. Please adapt it if you want or ignore it! Also I would love if they were in a established relationship! Thank you so much honey 🤍

Sorry it's so short! I hope you enjoy it!

Bad Day

George Weasley x fem!reader

~•~

It's hard being the invisible twin sometimes. Being the one everyone's eye slips over. It's not that he wasn't acknowledged or that he wasn't noticed. It was that he was never seen.

George turned on the shower, testing the water before he stepped in. He knew he was being overly dramatic. But it'd just been one of those days where everything seemed to go wrong. He'd had the opposite of the Midas Touch. Instead of gold, everything he touched turned to shit. And no one stepped in to help him. Not one employee saw that he was barely holding on, but instead flocked around Fred all day.

Things would've been better if his Y/N had been there when he got home. His fiancé had this wonderful ability to help him remember that he was seen and that he was loved. But she'd left early to go help Molly prep for Arthur's birthday party tonight.

With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the shampoo. His dad's party started in an hour and he didn't want to be late. He needed to get at least one thing right today.

~•~

George apparated just outside the Burrow. He needed a minute to compose himself before going in. His eyes instinctively searched for Y/N. She sat on the sofa, a huge smile on her face, gesticulating and waving her hands about, obviously excited about something. He sighed and headed in, hoping his fiancé's happy mood would rub off on him.

"George is the absolute best!" Y/N melodius voice floated through the house. "He's so thoughtful and sweet. He works so hard every day at the shop and then insists on cooking dinner most nights."

"And here I was thinking you were a good cook," joked Bill.

"She's an excellent cook," George's voice came from the kitchen. "But after a day of working on dangerous top-secret projects and telling the Ministry where they can stick it, she deserves to put her feet up and relax."

Y/N's face lit up, and she jumped up to give her fiancé a welcoming hug. "I'm so glad you're -." She paused upon seeing his red-rimmed eyes. "Everything ok, love?"

"Just had a really bad day," he wrapped his arms around her. "But you made it all better. You always do." He mummered, giving her a gentle, lingering kiss. Teasing whistles filled the room. He and Y/N chuckled against one another's lips and then turned around. "Alright, alright, show's over," George laughed. "Now, who's ready to party?"

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @charmedfandomgal @loca4moony @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #hp fandom #hp universe

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frost-queen · 7 months

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Flavored sweets (Reader!Potter x Fred Weasley)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @elllie-does-the-posts, @alex--awesome--22 @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @melsunshine, @evilcr0ne, @callsignwidow, @whotfskai, @freddieweasleysgf, @untoldshortsofthefandoms

Summary: Unlike what everyone thinks didn't Fred and you meet in the train. Rather meeting him at Honeyduke's near the last box of different flavored beans before school even began.

Wrapping paper ripped. Filling the table with a mess as the gifts got revealed. Fred and George pulled out a scarf putting it around their neck. – “Just what I wanted mother.” – George said teasingly with a smirk. Molly slapped him against the head with the wizarding gazette. – “Au I was merely showing you my gratitude.” – George responded rubbing his head. – “I know you well enough to know when you are joking.” – Molly spoke with a glare at him. George turned to look at his brother with a funny face.

Fred pulled his shoulders up, not getting involved in it. Hermione who sat beside Fred came leaning forwards to look at George. – “I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” – Hermione said knowing how much effort Molly had put in those clothing. George smiled funnily at her. – “You’ll get one for yourself.” – he responded receiving another slap against his head with the gazette.

“Au what was that for?” – He asked confused, holding his head. Molly glared at him, a hand on her hip. – “I was just…” – he continued as Ginny giggled across the table. Molly’s scowl intensified as Fred patted his brother on the shoulder. – “Shall we move on to the next present?” – he said trying to change the subject. Molly clasped her hands in delight. She turned round to fetch some presents. – “Nice handling son.” – Arthur said sitting at the head of the table.

Harry smiled sheepishly beside Ron, who was stuffing his mouth with sweets. Fred locked eyes with you across from him, giving you a wink. It made you smile bashful. Molly returned with two gifts, one in each hand. – “These are for Fred and Y/n.” – she said placing one down in front of you and him. – “Let me guess a pair of mittens?” – George joked out. Ginny plucked the wizarding gazette from the table, hitting at George. – “Au! Why did I deserve that?” – he asked her loudly as she had hit his arm.

“I think you know.” – Ginny answered. – “I should be really careful of your next words.” – Hermione warned him knowing if he kept being so jokingly he would be hit more times. – “You shouldn’t have done this Misses Weasley.” – you said with a warm smile. – “Oh nonsense you are practically family Y/n.” – she said bashful feeling her cheeks warm up.

You shared a look with Fred full of love and mischief. With one nod, ripped you the wrapping off it. Fred and you working as fast as you could. Wrapping paper flying up eager to know what you had. You gasped at the sweater taking it out to admire it. Turning it around, you showed it to Fred as he showed you yours. – “You better keep that mouth of yours closed.” – Hermione spoke with a hint at George as a warning. George swallowed his teasing words back in, leaning back in his chair. – “Put it on! Put it on!” – Ginny chanted.

Fred and you got up putting on the sweater. It was a matching sweater. – “Stand next to each other.” – Hermione asked waving Fred over to you. Fred went round the table wrapping an arm around your waist. – “Well mother what do you think?” – he asked presenting himself and you to her. Molly smiled proudly feeling sentimental. – “It looks just perfect.” – Arthur commented. Fred kissed your cheek making you smile. – “I still find it sweet how you first met each other at the train.” – Hermione talked about.

Fred and you frowned. – “That is not where we first met.” – you told her. Everyone looked surprised at the both of you. – “It is not?” – Ron asked with his mouth stuffed. You shook your head. – “But I thought…” – Ginny started furrowing her brows. – “How come I don’t know any of this?” – George had crossed his arms, bumped out that even he didn’t know. Fred slid his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer.

“Now I am very curious.” – Molly spoke coming to sit down. – “Me too.” – Harry pitched in looking questionable at you. – “Shall we tell them love?” – Fred asked you. You hummed thoughtfully. – “Please, please do.” – Hermione and Ginny begged. – “Are you sure it wasn’t at the train?” – Harry questioned. You nodded. – “It was before that.” – you explained to your brother. Fred took a deep breath. – “Alright we’ll tell you.”

Diagon alley was crowded. Young witches and wizards eager to get their school supplies. Harry and you still being in awe and shock of what was happening around you. A witch in a green pointy hat passed you, her books floating behind her. It made you gawk at her, pausing for a moment to stare. Hagrid nudged you gently against the shoulder. – “Stick with me Y/n.” – he said. You nodded taking his big hand and tagging along. – “Hagrid I can hardly understand half of this list.” – Harry said looking at the school supply list.

Hagrid took the list from Harry taking a look at it for himself. – “It isn’t that hard to read.” – he spoke making you laugh. – “Here you hold onto it Y/n.” – he moved the list down for you to take. You read the list, mouth falling open. – “Can we truly pick a pet for school?” – you asked him excitedly. Hagrid hummed loud. – “We’ve never been allowed any pets. This is exciting isn’t it Harry.” – you leaned forwards to look around Hagrid over to your brother.

“What pet should I get?” – you wondered. You felt Hagrid’s hand on your back, gently pushing you a bit faster. – “What do you think of a cat? Hagrid would a cat be nice?” – you asked him. – “Oh I don’t know missy but a dragon! A dragon would be a fine pet.” – Hagrid said with a glimmer in his eyes.

You snorted loud. – “I don’t think the school would be pleased as we come with a dragon to school.” – you chuckled out. – “You are right.” – Hagrid replied pushing you closer to him when a group of wizards passed. The three of you bought a few items from the list as some hours had passed. You sat on a bench kicking your feet back and forth while Hagrid was standing before a window shop with Harry. Admiring a broom. Looking around at the shops, your stomach started to growl at the sign of one of them. Honeyduke’s.

“Hmm sweets.” – you water-mouthed. You got up heading over to Hagrid and Harry. You tugged at Hagrid’s jacket for his attention. Hagrid turned around bending over to be closer to you. – “Yes Y/n.” – he said. You pointed to a shop not far away. – “Can I go buy some sweets?” – you asked nervously. – “I’m feeling a bit hungry.” – grabbing your stomach you felt it growl again. Hagrid looked over his shoulder to Harry still admiring the broom.

“I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight.” – he muttered stroking his beard. – “I won’t be long, and I’ll bring you something along.” – you persuaded as you really craved some sweets. Harry turned round to you. – “It will be fine Hagrid. We can look in the meantime inside.” – Harry tugged Hagrid on his sleeve. – “But…but…” – Hagrid was a bit confused of what to do.

“I’ll be right back.” – you told him as Harry pulled Hagrid inside with him. – “See you in a bit.” – Harry waved you goodbye for now. You ran over to the shop with eagerness. Honeyduke’s being the most colorful shop you had ever seen. The little bell above the door rang as you entered. The scent of sweets filling your nostrils with a sugar rush. Immediately you had the desire to buy everything. Never having had the opportunity to do so.

You rushed over to some lollipops plucking one from the basket. Admiring it hesitantly. Something else caught your eye as you placed the lollipop back. Picking up a little box you observed it. – “A chocolate frog?” – you whispered to yourself. The idea of a real frog made you shudder and put it back. In this world of magic anything was possible. Heading towards some rows with shelves filled with sweets, you left the chocolate frogs for what they were.

You stopped and observed several types of sweets. There was so much choice you felt a bit overwhelmed. So much to choose from. You wanted to buy so many things yet at the same time you were hesitant to do so. What if you didn’t like them and wasted your money on it. Setting a box of sweet worms back you wandered a bit further down the rows.

Taking a turn, heading into another row, you spotted a large box. Just one of them left. It seemed interesting as you went over to it. Near the box you bumped into someone. – “Oh sorry.” – you said panickily. The boy with ginger hair and a goofy smile chuckled sheepishly. – “It’s alright.” – he answered. Both of you left it for what it was, reaching for the box. Your hands touched right in front of the box, making you blink startled at it.

The boy turned back to you laughing loud. – “It seems we want the same thing.” – he said rubbing the back of his head. You smiled shyly back. – “You ca…” – you started wanting to offer it to him as he beat you to it. – “It’s yours.” – he blurted out. You stared stunned at him. The boy picked up the box handing it over to you. You accepted it shyly. – “it’s a great box! It has all the great flavored beans.” – he explained.

You opened the box holding it out to him. – “Take your pick.” – you offered. The boy laughed shyly. He stuck his hand in the box, grabbing for a flavored bean. – “I’m Fred Weasley.” – he said as you took one out for yourself. – “Y/n Potter.” – you answered before putting the bean in your mouth. It tasted funny as Fred could tell from your face. – “How does it taste Y/n?” – he asked you. You stuck up a thumb still getting used to the flavor.

Fred followed you to the cashier as you bought the box of flavored beans. – “I hope to see you around Y/n Potter.” – Fred called out saying his goodbye to you outside. – “You too Fred Weasley.” – you said waving back at him. Heading back to your brother and Hagrid you felt a flutter in your stomach after meeting him.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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hollowwrites · 3 months

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Summer of 6th Year

Ominis x MC Rewrite

Summary - I hate, hate hate, thinking about Ominis with his family. I don’t like to think about what the summer between 5th and 6th year would have been like for him. Too upsetting. The boi deserves better. But I’m taking my own head canon of 5th year into account (part 5 of Blindsided shh) and suddenly it’s not as sad?

Warnings - Mostly just sad thinking about what could have happened during the summer but none of it is mentioned specifically

Word Count - 2393

The chug of the steam trains pistons started to fade into the distance as it continued on its journey. With the last train now gone that would mean all attending students to Hogwarts were on the grounds.

However, Ominis was yet to find Evelyn.

He swept his wand broadly across the platform at the remaining students idly chatting or waiting for their friends. With the crowd thinning further, he had hoped she had seen him and he would soon be sent hurtling to the ground in her embrace.

Perhaps she had decided not to return. After the 5th year they both shared, he couldn’t blame her. But his heart sank at the idea. Or maybe she had seen him, and ignored him entirely.

He couldn’t work out which was worse.

Garreth remained patrolling the bottom of the stairs leading out of Hogsmeade station, counting how many Weasleys were arriving and squinting at every new ginger kid that bounced towards the castle. As Ominis approached him, he eyed him cautiously. The Blonde Slytherin didn’t look like someone returning to Hogwarts but rather someone who had been sentenced to life in Azkaban. His features were heavy with fatigue and his deep set eyes blinked unenthusiastically in Gareth’s direction.

He looked, truly…

…Gaunt.

“Hello Garreth, you haven’t seen Evelyn have you?”

“Yeah, she’s just asked me the exact same question, she’s…Merlin where has she gone?” Garreth peered over the sea of first years being ushered up to the castle to be sorted. “I swear I just saw her, she-“

“Ominis!”

And there it was.

The voice that calmed him like no other. The voice that could call to him even in the darkest of places. The voice he had heard rattling around his head for six long weeks, each time it would change and morph. Like he was slowly forgetting who she was.

But oh was it sweet now…

His Evelyn…

Garreth watched as Ominiss’ shoulders visibly relaxed and he immediately turned in the direction of her voice. He laughed at the twitch of Ominis’ lips threatening to break into a smile at the mere mention of his name.

Wand in hand he strode towards her, hearing the loud patter of her feet as she ran towards him. Before long, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to her height.

So small. He had forgot that too…

“I missed you so much” Evelyn muffled into his neck. Pocketing his wand quickly, his arms snaked around her. One along her waist, pulling her ever closer till there was no gap between them. The other soon joined cushioned behind her thighs as he scooped her clean off the ground. The elated scream that erupted from her lips vibrated through her chest where Ominis pressed his ear. He sighed contently.

Her heartbeat.

He didn’t need to be this close to hear of. But why not when she was so willing? It hammered strong and erratic against his head.

A reminder she was alive.

“Oh you have no idea how much I’ve missed you” he muffled into her arm, wrapped around his head. She cradled him as much for stability as for comfort.

When the pair broke away, minutes after, the platform was almost empty. Garreth bid them both a quick farewell before his departure. No doubt off to watch the horde of Weasley get sorted into Gryffindor.

Both Ominis and Eve decided to take the longer, more scenic route back to the castle, catching up on their summer in a more private and beautiful setting.

“So how is Anne?” He asked earnestly.

“She’s doing really well” Eve beamed “Her fits are down to 2 or 3 times a day, depending on what we’ve been doing, if she’s feeling well. There’s a lot of factors but…she’s getting there”

“And Sebastian?” Her stride slowed somewhat at his follow up question

“I haven’t heard from him” she linked her arm with his giving it a little squeeze. The closest thing they could get to a hug whilst they slowly ascended to Hogwarts. “Have you?”

“Not even one owl” Ominis replied blankly, finding it easier to lie about his summer than offload his own problem into the already fretting Evelyn.

“We did the right thing. Yes? Yes.” She fiddled with her fingers around his arm, picking at her nails as she was known to do. He placed his hand over hers to stop her anxious habit.

“He probably just needs some time” Ominis said convincing himself as much as he was convincing her.

An uncomfortable silence crept of the pair.

So it was going to be like this again.

“I thought you would have visited…” Evelyn’s voice was quiet, barely there as she effortlessly broke his heart in two.

“I…was busy” Ominis lied

“I went to Feldcroft to see you. See if Sebastian had returned and how you were faring…You were never there”

Anne spoke of Ominis often. It seemed they were close. Annoyingly close if Evelyn was being honest. The rancid taste of jealousy rose on her throat whenever the sick Sallow said his name with a tone of affection. Despite that though she had proved to be a valuable resource of information about him. About how they’d spend summers together. How they often slept under star whilst the Sallow twins described different constellations for their blind counter parts.

And how vile and twisted his family were.

Surely he would rather return to an empty homestead than his family

Evelyn’s stomach remained constantly in flux over her summer. Anne: Cursed. Sebastian: missing. Ominis: unaccounted for.

“I was out rather a lot. Holidays. Day trips. The like…” He lied once more. Easily.

If he were to tell anyone it would be Evelyn. She got the Scriptorium location from him. He trusted her. Right?

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. He would tell her in his own time but it was killing her, this unknown.

So they simply walked back in silence.

The sorting ceremony happened with no major catastrophes or drama. As everyone filed out to go about their nightly routine, find their common room or just get reacquainted with one another, Ominis could hear a gossipy bunch of younger students just ahead. The topic of their conversation piqued his interest away from the infamous student still clinging to his arm.

“Who is that? They weren’t in the hall?” The young Ravenclaw said

“Nope not at our table either. That is green isn’t it? Slytherin?” The Slytherin girl sneered

“Oh that’s just Sebastian Sallow” The eldest student replied.

Ominis froze.

No mistaking it. The habitual tapping of his foot. The impatient huff of air on every second breath. The smell of smoke, embers and coffee.

There, stood leaning against the wall in the foyer between the parted sea of students, was his oldest friend. Ominis remained stationary. Stuck in place by a mixture of emotions none quite strong enough to rise to the surface.

One thing rattled around his head more than anything though…

How dare he?

“What’s wrong?” The tiny voice of Evelyn rang hollow in his ears as Sebastian pushed himself off the wall and made his way over.

Eve followed Ominis’ sightless gaze and her eyes met with Sebastian. She stared at him, unknowing of what she wanted to do. She missed her friend. She wanted to embrace the boy whose sister she now cared for. The boy who showed her that secret place deep in the belly of Hogwarts. The boy who showed her spells and mysteries and new places across the region. The boy whose smile, that was currently plastered across his face, had manipulated her into doing stupid and unforgivable things.

She blinked away images of Anne. She saw her in Sebastian face more clearly now she was almost free of that curse. The nights she stayed up with her over those six weeks, well into the early hours, crying over the loss of her brother.

Now she wanted to hit him.

Make him feel a fraction of the pain he had caused his sister in his absence. Anne’s voice sang in her ear;

‘Us Sallows are thick-brained stubborn mules. He just needs time as much as I need time. I don’t want to see him right now, but I miss him. Does that make sense?’

Eve’s hand fell from Ominis as she hugged herself tightly. Fighting every fibre in her being from doing…something.

“Hello you two. Long time no see” His voice was thick with a confidence only he could muster.

“‘Long time no see’?” Ominiss’ signature sharp tone returned, his voice rising in volume causing Sebastian to flinch somewhat and a plethora of nosy student to turn their way.

“I just mean-“

“Ominis please-“ Evelyn begged seeing the last few students leaving, turn to look at the scene. She glared at them until they realised the drama, wasn’t worth their life. She was the new fifth year after all.

“She wrote you. She went to Feldcroft. Where were you? She put herself in danger for you! Again!” Ominis took a step toward Sebastian, his wand blinking faster giving him a better layout of the situation he found himself in.

“I didn’t ask you too” Sebastian followed suite, both boys leaning forward as though a physically fight was only moments away. Then Evelyn realised...the last time they saw one another, Ominis had his hand wrapped around Sebastian’s throat, and his wand buried harshly in his temple.

“Don’t rope me into this. I’ve had to silently worry for six weeks, Sebastian. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t visit. I couldn’t leave because I had to spend my summer with family” Sebastian retreated slightly mouth going slack as he processed what he said

“You didn’t stay with Eve?”

“Why would I do that to her? She’s already tending to your sister. And you didn’t exactly extend me an invitation like you have every other year” Ominis’ anger slipped a fraction, betraying the hurt behind his words, his brows pulled upwards.

“You didn’t stay at Feldcroft?” Eve yanked at Ominis’ arm forcing him to face her.

“No I…”

“Ominis…” Sebastian reached out to Ominiss’ shoulder, placing a comforting hand upon the taller Slytherin.

“Are you okay?” Eve said taking his cheek in her hand. Ominis didn’t answer.

His head filled with those six dreaded weeks. Waking to screaming as they tortured yet another muggle. Being denied meals for refusing to participate. And of course the immediate punishment. Crucio. That word had been uttered more over those six weeks than he cares to remember.

Though he couldn’t really.

Whether it was his minds self preservation or had chosen to forget he didn’t know. Those weeks were a blur. All he could remember was pain, the fetid smell of that old Manor House and incessant questioning of ‘The Hero of Hogwarts’.

Of course they had heard about her power. and of course, they wanted it for themselves. Thankfully, from what he could gather, they had no clue who she was. Neither witch or wizard, muggleborn or pureblood. They didn’t know. And Ominis would keep it that way.

Whilst Ominis’ mind was reeling, the anguished expression on his face evidence of that, Sebastian was pacing, muttering to himself over and over.

What he always did when he was thinking.

Dangerous.

“So I wasn’t at Feldcroft because I went to look for Solomon” Sebastian spoke with a determination that didn’t suit the topic he had randomly brought up. “I couldn’t find him. His friends, those that he had left, old Aurors, I even asked Sharp for some contacts. Nothing. I assume he’s took another name and fled. Anyway, that means Feldcroft is mine now.

Sebastian turned to his friend, all determination and stubbornness leaving him. All that was left was compassion and love for a boy he failed to protect. Like he always had.

“You live with me now.” He grabbed Ominis by the shoulders giving him a singular light shake.

“Sebastian-“

“No! Even if you don’t want to, I-I-I can make myself scarce…or at least it’s an option. You don’t have to go back there. You can’t…I can’t protect you there. I can’t…” Sebastian searched Ominis’ eyes for any resistance. Worse. There was none. He’d given up.

“It’s not that simple” Ominis spoke quietly, heavy with despair

“Or me. You can stay with me.” Eve smiled up at him before pulling herself into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist “You’ve spoken very little about your family, I know it’s bad but... I’m so sorry. I should’ve known. I should’ve offered to-”

“Shhh” Ominis hushed softly, his arm wrapping limply around her shoulders and smoothing her soft hair against her head. Sebastian followed suit and wrapped his arms around them both and squeezing.

After a moment, Ominis relented his shaky arms wrapped around the two of them, resting his chin on Evelyns head.

“I’ve missed you both so much” Ominis finally spoke, his voice quiet and not quite carrying the normal gravitas that it did. It was broken. And soft.

Sebastian was the first to pull away, though kept his hands upon his two best friends. His smile was charming, as it always was.

“I give it till the middle of first term. Then you’ll be sick of us again” Sebastian grinned pulling away from them.

“Please, tomorrow afternoon and he’ll ban us from the Undercroft” Eve smirked, giving Ominis one last squeeze before releasing him.

“Now” Sebastian rubbed his hands together “Is there any of that food left? Unlike some people when I’m late I don’t like drawing attention to it and I’m hungry!”

Ominis sighed and for once allowed the twitch of his lips to take over.

It felt good to be back.

Bonus:

“She wrote me six times over summer” Sebastian burst through the door of the boys dorm, a huge knapsack in one hand and a small stack of letters in the other.

“You sound mad about that” Ominis put his book down, knowing no more reading would be done if Sebastian was in a mood

“I am! Look at this” He began to shovel the contents of the bag onto Ominiss’ bed. “These are all for you! There’s at least thirty!”

“Oh!” He felt his cheeks start to burn, feeling the parchment between his fingers

“Honestly it’s as though we didn’t commit multiple crimes together”

Masterlist

Original

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thebibutterflyao3 · 1 year

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Marauders Fandom

We need to talk about Lily Evans.

The amount of misogyny directed at this character is truly mind-boggling and I think many of you are completely unaware you’re doing it. There are so many rich, in-depth characterizations of the male characters in the Marauders era because we accept that they are deeply flawed people. It’s because of these flaws that we identify with them, adore them, and can relate to them. These four idiots experience damaging trauma, homophobia, discrimination, and countless character building experiences that allow them to capture your imagination. Through fanfiction, we inflict numerous situations and create relationships that challenge logic, reality, and canon. It makes them powerful figures in our minds!

Now, let’s talk about the female Marauders era characters. Dorcas and Marlene are lesbians. Marlene is a Sirius-variant. Dorcas and Mary are Black. Lily is perfect in every way. Mary is stylish and popular. This is more or less the level of depth given to these characters in nearly every fic I’ve read that includes them. What a disgusting disservice to women.

Female characters can be written with just as many flaws, experience the same challenges, and deserve the opportunity to grow into the powerful figures they could be. The one that I feel is shafted the most often is Lily mother-fucking Evans. The witch who was at the top of her class, compared in canon to Hermione as a perfectionist and know-it-all muggle-born, who grew up with Petunia as an older sister, and Severus Snape as a best friend. You’re going to look me in the eyeballs and tell me this woman wasn’t complicated? She wasn’t flawed, traumatized, and intense? We’ve taken the rich characterization potential this character offered and given it to Regulus Black. The correlations that can be made between Regulus and Lily are wild, yet anyone who writes her as anything but sunshine and rainbows is accused of villainizing her.

News flash: Your misogyny is showing. Why do you expect Lily to be perfect? Because society expects women to be perfect. Why are male characters allowed to be flawed assholes? Because society allows and accepts men as flawed assholes, encourages it even.

I find it endlessly fascinating that I can write Regulus as a snarky, intense, anxious, and a complete prick with nothing but full support from the fandom because he’s “traumatized.” If I write Lily the same way? I’m “villainizing” her or you “hate her” for thinking she knows better than everyone else. Stop treating women like dolls. We are powerful individuals with the potential to brighten or destroy your whole fucking world. Don’t make the same mistake the patriarchy has and dismiss, undermine, and overlook women.

I know Lily Jane Evans (yes, I gave her a middle name because she fucking deserves one). I wrote a 430k+ deep dive into her childhood and upbringing, as well as all 7 years at Hogwarts. I explored her friendship with Snape, her family, and her relationship with James. I’ve done my research and I built her character from the ground up. Lily Evans is an anxious, intense, introvert who made Hogwarts her home and rose to the rank of Head Girl before she left. Sound like Percy Weasley to anyone? She’s certainly a compassionate, loving, and generous person too, but let her have flaws! Let her be annoying, feel inadequate, and fuck things up! Let her live!

If you want more fanfiction focused on female characters, stop pretending they are perfect. No one wants to write about perfect people. No one wants to read about them either. Let women be flawed assholes too. We can do both. We’re flexible like that.

#welcome to my ted talk #the marauders #lily evens #lily evans supremacy #marauders era #jily #harry potter #jegulus #starchaser #wolfstar #dorlene #marylily

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jomiddlemarch · 2 months

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I loved and guessed at you, you construed me

It was not that he was waiting for her as much as that he was most often in the faculty sitting room at this hour and so was she and the staff knew to leave out a full tea service and also a magically chilled bottle of very dry amontillado, the color of her eyes. And then to tell anyone else that the room was occupied and that they were not to be disturbed.

It wasn’t that he was waiting for her, but he did look up when she came into the room, letting the ancient, rare and precious book he held slip out of his hand, an instinctive, wandless spell keeping it from clattering onto the floor.

“You cut your hair,” Draco said.

Any pretense to eloquence, savoir-faire, or intellectual rigor associated with achieving his Potions Mastery and Mwandamizi kemia had been decimated by the four words, uttered in a tone of complete shock, which given his Pureblood upbringing meant flat, with a hint of scorn. He had spent the past twelve years working to convince Hermione he wasn’t that man anymore, the one who would have meant the scorn, the fault-finding appraisal, cold and superior and not terribly clever underneath it all.

(The one he’d felt doomed to become before the chandelier fell in his family’s ballroom. Before she’d testified to keep him out of Azkaban. Before she’d returned his formal letter of apology with a brief addendum You were a child, Draco an absolution he didn’t deserve.)

Blaise always said he was his own worst enemy. Theo always nodded and offered a glass of single malt Scotch. Neville always shrugged and tried to reassure Draco, meandering through some nonsense about how they’d all had to grow up too soon, let down by the adults, forced to experience trauma that they’d been lucky to survive and a plate of buttered toast would soon set him to rights.

Luna changed the subject and talked about some possibly fictional chimerical creature to take his mind off his shortcomings. It never worked but he appreciated her effort and consistency.

“I suppose that’s better than ‘Bloody hell.’ And “Holy fucking Christ.’ Harry reverts to Muggle obscenity when he’s really surprised,” Hermione replied. “You only told me what I already know, as I didn’t accidentally fall into a Mongolian silver scissor-bush.”

“Is that a thing?” Draco asked.

He had to keep talking but there was a lot to take in, the startlingly gorgeous line of her bare neck, the angle of her jaw, how her eyes looked enormous, luminous. How her chestnut hair was swept across her brow and came to a delicate little point on the nape of her neck, all these hidden aspects suddenly marvels revealed. Suddenly, astonishingly breath-taking and erotic and also heart-breaking, because he’d wanted so to run his fingers through her loose hair, to stand behind her and draw a brush through her curls. Watching her eyes get drowsy in the dressing-table’s looking-glass, resting a hand on her bare shoulder and feeling the tickling silk of her hair. He’d wanted to cast the spell that ended the charm securing her chignon, to pull out the jeweled pins she used to keep her braids in the coronet around her head.

“No. It sounds like something Luna would mention though,” Hermione shrugged. It was as if he’d never seen the gesture before.

“It’s a lot to take in,” he said.

“It’s actually not. It’s both literally and figuratively not,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Snape being a double-agent in love with Harry’s mum was a lot to take in. Any Sunday lunch at Molly Weasley’s table is a lot to take in. War and Peace in the original Russian without a translation charm is a lot to take in. I took off a few inches—”

“A few inches?”

“Fine, I got the first professional, Muggle, haircut of my adult life because I was fed up with my hair and charms and Sleekeezy and glamours, so many glamours, and you would think I have announced I am Grindelwald’s secret lovechild,” she said in a tone of complete exasperation, pursing her lips in a matching moué he felt an impossible urge to kiss very thoroughly and until she was gasping his name.

He was fairly certain that action would not be requited, not now, and potentially not ever.

But definitely not now.

She was now almost glaring at him, waiting for a response.

If this was ever to become something beyond hopeless pining, if he were ever to be allowed to call her sweetheart and coax her back to bed, he couldn’t get the next part wrong.

“Are you happy with it?” he said. It was a gamble, saying anything would have been a gamble, but there was a chance he’d gotten it right.

He’d surprised her, that he could tell instantly, though her face changed very subtly. It meant no one else who’d seen her had asked and considered she might be. No one else had thought about why she’d done it, only what they thought of it. Evidently, both Weasley and Potter had indicated a negative response, Weasley likely driven by his own unrealized Pureblood upbringing, where all witches wanted the long hair associated with power and Potter never wanted her to be anything other than she’d been in their youth, when her unruly hair was her most obvious signifier.

“Yes, I think I am,” she said.

“That’s good. That’s what matters,” he said. He was supposed to reference the book he’d been reading or follow-up on their most recent conversation about geopolitics or whether Chopin was a Squib or at the very least offer her something to drink, the tea first and then, when she demurred, the sherry. But all of those would require him to look away from her and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Not quite yet.

“I ought to have done it a long time ago,” she said. She spoke without her usual forthright confidence, but also without any of the regret the statement might have implied. She sounded hesitant, as if she wanted something from him she felt she shouldn’t. Or shouldn’t ask for.

It was tempting to make some sort of declaration, offer reassurance or an argument. But he’d gotten this far by asking her a question.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. It would have been a way to move on. Grow up. Make my life easier, decide it for myself,” she said. She was watching him very closely as she spoke. She liked that he’d asked, though she wasn’t smiling. “It wouldn’t have been grief or some kind of, I don’t know, unhinged trauma response.”

It would very much have been a response to the colossal trauma she’d experienced if she’d hacked it all off after being tortured, and it wouldn’t have been unhinged when one considered the myriad extremely risky alternatives she might have chosen, but Draco wasn’t about to ruin everything. Even as his own worst enemy, he could keep from doing that.

“It could have been just something you do when you’re in your twenties, trying something out. Like, going to the Maldives or studying Norn. Learning earth magic from tribal elders in Namib.”

“Only you would saying learning earth magic in Namib is something you do in your twenties,” Draco said wryly. “Most people just go to the pub and fret a lot.”

“You didn’t,” she said.

“I think it’s well established I’m not most people,” he said.

“No. You’re not. You’re the only person who didn’t tell me cutting my hair was a terrible mistake,” she said. “As if it could even remotely compare to the other terrible mistakes I’ve made.”

“It’s not a terrible mistake,” he said. “And you’re the person I know best whose made the fewest terrible mistakes in her life and we can sit here drinking sherry talking about it because of it.”

“My parents wouldn’t agree,” she said.

“Neither would mine. I wonder how people grow up when they don’t have to discover their parents were deeply, entirely wrong about something absolutely crucial to survival,” Draco said.

“We could ask Blaise Zabini,” Hermione said after very clearly Thinking About It, a little crease appearing between her eyebrows.

“Too risky,” Draco replied. “It’s only the husbands people talk about but people have a way of disappearing when they ask questions about his mother.”

“No one would comment on her haircut,” Hermione said wistfully. “What a bloody icon.”

Draco laughed, startled.

“You’re enchanting,” he blurted out. Stupid, gauche, impulsive—he could go on (and on) about how ill-considered it had been.

“Well, I am a witch,” she said. She did not seem put off. In fact, she smiled at him, a little shyly. “Goes with the territory—”

“You enchant me. Bewitch me,” he said, throwing caution to the winds. “You don’t want anyone to comment on how you look, so I shouldn’t but you’re exquisite—”

He broke off, fearing he’d broken it all. She was still in the room and he still had all his bits and bobs, when he knew she was a dab hand at wandless curses. It was rather late to decide discretion was the better part of valor, but better late than never.

“I didn’t do it for you,” she said.

“No,” he replied.

“I didn’t do it only for you,” she clarified. “But I was curious to see how you’d react.”

“Did you have a hypothesis? You usually do,” he said.

“Yes. You’ve exceeded it slightly,” she said. There was a gleam in those sherry-brown eyes and when she tilted her head to the side, he understood the vampire’s insatiable lust.

“I can do better than slightly,” he said, half-dazed with the realization that she was requiting far more than he’d ever imagined. And that she’d imagined his response to seeing her bare neck, had wanted his admiration. He got up from his chair and crossed the room to her, standing close enough to take her in his arms. “I can do a wide margin. Prodigious. Overwhelmingly—”

“I like prodigious,” she said and he leaned in and kissed her parted lips softly, then deeply, one hand at her waist, the other cupping her cheek. The urge to possess her was tremendous, held in check only by an immense and constant tenderness, the moon that could pull the devouring tide back from the shore.

“Can I see overwhelmingly?” she whispered. “For comparison—”

“Of course,” he answered and moved to kiss her neck. He tasted the pulse of her carotid, sucking gently where he wanted to nip her. He moved back up to the hollow behind her ear, grazing her lobe with his tongue, then murmured,

“You cut your hair. I love it.”

#dramione #hermione x draco #draco POV #post-hogwarts #epilogue what epilogue #hermione gets a haircut #romance #pining #always some extra worldbuilding #references to lots of characters #had so much fun I wrote a second part #that one's hermione POV

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thatintrovertedgryffindor · 6 months

Text

Percy Weasley was taught to make his own way. He was told he was smart and was going to go places. He was the younger brother and the older brother, that sweet spot where he had power and people behind him. He had ideas that filled his head of how to better the world and a murky path where all his dreams would come true.

Imagine Percy's anger and betrayal when he finally got the respect he deserved and his parents wrote it off as someone else's achievement. All his life, he was under Bill's or Charlie's shadow. Now, when he got to do something he enjoyed, he was mocked. It would have been fine from Fred or George or Ginny but his Father? Who worked for the Ministry and found loopholes and worked as close to the walls of his jurisdiction as he could? Was that not what Percy was doing?

The stress from getting this job and his other not-so-legal job was getting to him. He felt dizzy and angry and why was Dad telling him that it was Harry who got him this job? That's absurd. All their problems lately have been because of Harry. Dragon in the school? Harry. Ginny got kidnapped by a ghost? Harry. The rat was actually a horrible person hiding from the Law? Harry. Ron gets kidnapped by merpeople? Harry.

And Percy made it very clear. He made it clear he didn't like Harry. He made it clear that Ginny's crush on him was stupid. And he made it clear that backing Harry was the dumbest thing his family could do, but he wasn't surprised. They never made the best decisions anyway. Oh, you want to know what kind of decisions? Turning down better jobs to work for a department that was bollocks and has no reputation, Dad, that was stupid. Picking fights with wealthy contributors to the community like Lucius Malfoy. Spending money on all the wrong things and perhaps having such a huge family was the worst decision of them all.

Ron was silent and Ginny looked like she was going to bite his ear again. Fred and George were looking at him like their next prank was going to be as painful as they could make it. Mother was red in the face and pointing her soup spoon in his face but Percy didn't care. He voiced his opinions finally. He got his words in and he was proud he did so.

"Percy." His Dad stood up but kept his head down. "Get out."

Percy frowned. "What?"

"Get OUT PERCY! You are no son of mine!"

After the initial shock, Percy grit his teeth. "Fine. You don't want me? I don't want you either."

He made sure to slam the door as hard as he could behind him to make some of the paintings fall off the walls.

#percy weasley #harry potter #arthur weasley #i love him your honor #but he's stupid #hp

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oxydiane · 2 years

Text

‘Does it ever upset you?’

‘Mhhh?’ Ron shifts slightly, adjusting the arm curled around Harry’s waist. ‘What’re you talking about?’

‘That… This, that nobody knows about this.’ Harry whispers with a nod to their current position; he is laying against Ron’s chest, Ron’s lips pressed against his hair and leaving quick kisses every once in a while.

‘Why? It matters to you?’ Ron mumbles, clearly far sleepier than his boyfriend.

‘I dunno,’ Harry thinks of how the only reason they get to lay and cuddle like this is Sirius and Remus’ date night, thinks of how Sirius left him the home for the night and he used the chance to sneak in his boyfriend when Sirius had trusted him. ‘Should tell Padfoot, maybe?’

Ron seems to wake up at once. ‘Huh? No way! He’s going to kill me!’

‘He’s not going to kill you,’ a roll of eyes.

‘Duh! He already doesn’t like me because he knows of your embarrassing crush on me!’ Harry laughs and shoves him playfully. ‘You wanna add fuel to the fire so next time I show up he’s not even gonna let us in your room? This door-stays-open rule is bad already!’

‘He just wants to make sure —‘

‘I don’t deflower his Godson?’ Ron finishes for him and that does draw a shriek from Harry, immediately followed by a laugh.

‘You’re so stupid! And he knows we wouldn’t try that under his roof! I’m smarter than that.’

‘Debatable.’

‘Now you’re just being mean,’ Harry whines and presses his face against Ron’s neck. ‘I just… I don’t like keeping secrets from Sirius, you know that.’

‘I know! I just…’ Ron sighs. ‘Once we tell them, we need to tell my family, too, and once we do that, the teasing will start and this… This won’t be just ours anymore, would it? I know you want to tell them, Harry, I do too, but… Can this just be ours for a little while longer?’

Ron’s voice is so sweet against Harry’s hair and his hand runs gently against Harry’s back, he can’t help but smile against the crook of Ron’s neck; he is in love and it maybe does need to stay in-between them alone for a little longer.

‘Alright,’ he mutters, the warmth in his chest urging him to add— ‘I love you.’

From where he lies, he can feel Ron’s heartbeat speed-up just a little before the arms around his waist squeeze him closer and the lips against his hair move.

‘I love you, too.’ And it’s quiet after that, the muffled sound of the telly lulling them to sleep.

Later that night, the front door opens and a voice breaks the silence of the house.

‘I told you I could not learn all those constellations.’

‘You tried and we had a lovely pick-nic, that’s what matters.’

‘Yeah, would have been better if it didn’t start pouring—‘ Remus’ words come to a sudden halt when he takes in the two teenagers’ sleeping forms, cuddled up together on their living room couch.

‘What’s u— Oh,’ Sirius’ hand slips easily around his husband’s waist. ‘They think they are so slick.’

‘They ought to have realised we know by now, this is the… what? Fourth time? Fourth time we caught them?’

‘Seventh,’ Sirius says confidently, he’s been keeping a tally. ‘Honestly, Moony, I get this whole ‘let them come to us when they are ready’ thing but it’s getting ridiculous… I do enjoy our date nights to leave him the house to himself, though.’

‘Of course you do,’ Remus can’t help but smile, looking at Harry sleeping so peacefully. ‘The poor boy has, what, five siblings?’

‘Six, and two parents. Honestly, Moony, you are kind of awful with numbers lately.’

‘Yeah, whatever. Way too many, in my book. They deserve some privacy, God knows how little they could actually get at Molly Weasley’s house!’

‘Not too much privacy, though.’ Sirius points out and Remus can’t help but roll his eyes, taking his husband’s hand and tugging him towards their room.

‘Let’s go, let’s go, you remember tomorrow’s script—?’

‘Of course.’ Sirius deadpans. ‘Pretend we saw nothing, and that we were both way too drunk to remember anything, anyways.’

‘Good boy.’

Sirius gives the two boys one last glance before disappearing in the hallway. He is glad Harry can rest so well.

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fanfic-lover-girl · 2 months

Text

Double Standards: Malfoys vs Weasleys Edition

I'm on a roll, baby! TWO double standards today! All from book 4!

Nepotism/Favoritism

Moody’s magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled – the first time Harry had seen him do so. ‘You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s son, eh?’ Moody said. ‘Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago …”

. . . my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

Fudge, who wasn’t listening, said, “Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He’s here as my guest.”

Bonus from Book 5

Harry distinctly heard the gentle clinking of what sounded like a full pocket of gold. ‘Really, just because you are Dumbledore’s favourite boy, you must not expect the same indulgence from the rest of us … shall we go up to your office, then, Minister?’

What I find most notable here is the difference in nature between the scenarios. The Malfoys' nepotism is more quid pro quo. Charity donations and political bribery. Whereas Authur Weasley seems to have used his position to help people like the Bagmans skirt the law. A government official helps another official's relative with a sketchy situation and in return, he gets expensive, premier seats?! Sounds a bit corrupt to me.

But hardly anyone in HP fandom has an issue with nepotism when the Weasleys do it. Nope, it's only bad when the rich Malfoys do it, duh!

Discrimination

Mum’s writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. We’re coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can’t miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it’s better if we pretend to ask their permission first. Ron, it’s all OK, the Muggles say I can come.

Mr Malfoy’s eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. Harry knew exactly what was making Mr Malfoy’s lip curl. The Malfoys prided themselves on being pure-bloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class.

Bonus: Weasley hypocrisy

“That’s sick,” Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. “That is really sick…”

What I found very fascinating is how the discrimination is presented. The Weasleys' disgusting prejudice towards muggles is very casual. It's treated as normal and acceptable: for heaven's sake, Harry (our wonderful hero) even participates in dehumanizing his relatives. I bet most HP readers don't even bat an eye - JKR has trained the reader to accept muggle dehumanization. Yet, what I find strange is that Harry has to literally spell out the Malfoy's distaste for Hermione. Why is JKR wasting her time with this? By book 4, we already know how the Malfoys feel about Hermione. I think it's another indicator of JKR's crappy writing.

Anyway, after we see the appalling way the Weasleys treat the Durselys and the Grangers, JKR expects her readers to swallow Ron acting as a moral compass when he sees the muggle family being tortured? Please.

People need to remember that we are the muggles. Would you prefer the Malfoys who hate all things muggle and mainly want their world to be separate from muggles and keep to themselves (which Draco said way back in book 1 when he met Harry)?? Or would you prefer the Weasleys who have little respect for muggles and have little qualms about invading your home and bodily autonomy?

As a black woman, I prefer a KKK racist who lives far away from me and who I will probably never see in my lifetime. Compared to a white liberal who causally asks me degrading questions every day like why my English is so good when I am from Jamaica. Or anyone else for that matter who makes me feel insecure about my culture and abilities. All under the guise of being a so-called ally.

Truly, between the Malfoys and Weasleys, who has caused muggles more harm on screen or on paper?? I don't know how many people Lucius hurt as a DE besides the poor Roberts family but given JKR treats muggles as NPCs in her books, I guess those rando people Lucius may have killed don't matter :(. And why were muggles there anyway?! At a wizarding event?! That poor Mr. Roberts being treated worse than a dog by people who are supposed to be pro-muggle leaning.

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr Roberts’s front door. “Obliviate!” he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr Roberts. “Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy.”

Sigh. Muggles deserved better. Forget Draco calling Hermione a mudblood. Like that slur means anything to Hermione anyway. Or has any meaningful impact. Muggles are the true victims in these books.

#double standards #weasley family #malfoy family #weasleys vs malfoys #anti weasleys #lucius malfoy #authur weasley #harry potter series #goblet of fire #nepotism #muggle and muggleborn discrimination #muggles are the true victims of hp #muggles deserved better #anti jkr #ron weasley critical #harry james potter critical

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gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley · 9 months

Text

Letters to G. Weasley. [g.w. x reader]

Inspired by Letters to Milena.

You left me in that beautiful heap of dazzles and brilliance; your recalcitrance with your brother— just to send a message.

Do you know how I felt when I saw what you left in the sky on the morning of my NEWTS; your farewell to Hogwarts while we were all stuck under the authoritarian regime of that daft pink woman.

I was so, so, so devastated.

I spent my nights crying, you git. You didn't tell me you were leaving.

- Y/N, May 14, 1996.

***

Dear George,

I've come to peace with you after ignoring all your owls. Yes, I'm writing back to you. Yes, I've decided to address you, unlike my last letter, if you still have it.

Even though I dearly, passionately, and remarkably hate you; I still miss your voice.

I've graduated from Hogwarts and I'm joining the Ministry. Has your shop been doing well? Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, was it? Never mind that I'll get straight to the point. No more preamble.

I'd like to see you, if you'd wish to, of course. I've moved on from that undesirable spring.

I fully understand if you wish not to. You can be a man of deep-seated grudges, after all.

I'll leave it up to you, and I most favourably look forward to your reply.

Yours,

Y/N, June 21, 1997

***

George.

It's been a rough month. I know it's been tougher for you, too. Is your ear, or lack thereof, okay? From what I understand from your letter, you're currently hiding in Sirius Black's family's manor with The Order, and the Burrow's gone? I cannot fathom this.

The Dark Lord, Cedric's death in 6th year, I thought it was all a nightmare. Now it's very much real. Please, take care of yourself. It's been hectic here in the Ministry. I've been drinking Pepper-Up potions every two days just to feel alive.

Please, please, please, I cannot stress this enough, take care of yourself.

I love you.

Yours,

Y/N, August 2, 1997.

***

George.

Please, let me join The Order. I know I can handle it. I want to, I need to, join the battle against Voldemort. Let me help.

He took away everything we've loved dearly. It's only a matter of time until he strikes all of us down.

Please, reply as soon as you can.

I love you dearly.

Yours,

Y/N, August 14, 1997.

***

George Weasley.

With your lack of response, I'm going to assume you're not letting me join The Order. Or are you dead?

For the love of Merlin, let me in. I need to know you're okay. I spent nights thinking of the worst possible scenarios; what if you've all been found by Voldemort? What if I never get to see you again?

Please, at least reply. Even one single word. Anything, just to know you're alive.

I know the Ministry's hot on Potter's tail right now, so if you ever read this, please send my regards to him. I've seen the way Fudge hides away in his office. The man's out of his mind, rambling about how Voldemort isn't back.

Diagon Alley shut down. Ollivander's gone. Your shop's... Seen better days.

Oh, how I wish to go back to halcyon days. Reply, please.

I love you.

Yours,

Y/N, August 29, 1997.

***

My dearest, George,

As soon as Errol came swooping by my window, I got up, drank my milk, and wrote to you.

I understand why you won't let me join, it's dangerous. I understand completely. But please, don't leave me in the dark. It's been two months since I last saw you, don't you think I at least deserve to know what's happening?

Merlin, you lost an ear. You're just like that Muggle painter, don't you know? I don't want to lose you spiralling in the raging sea of war.

It isn't easy for anyone right now, and I understand you're just trying to get by. Apropos of your nightmares, I'll send you Dreamless Sleep potions by Owl soon. I've brewed them a few months prior because I, too, have been plagued with nightmares.

The world's in a dark place right now. Please, take care of yourself.

I love you.

Yours,

Y/N, September 2, 1997.

***

Dearest George,

Amidst the never-ending darkness, I got myself a cat. She's a chubby ginger tabby cat, and in the envelope is a picture of us together. I've recently taken up Muggle photography to get my mind off things; though Muggle cameras aren't as capable as magical cameras, they have this certain charm to them. They remind me a lot of you, actually.

The cat's still unnamed, so I'm leaving the task of naming her to you.

How are the potions? Are they helping? You didn't mention them in your letter, so I thought to ask you.

I miss you, dearly. Come home soon.

Yours,

Y/N, October 14, 1997.

***

George.

Please, for the love of fuck, tell me you're alive.

News of Death Eater attacks are all over the Prophet. I'm still safe and sound, but where are you?

Word is going around in the Ministry that a second wizarding war may break out any time soon.

Please.

Write back.

Y/N, April 29, 1998.

***

George.

I'm fighting in the war.

Wait for me, my love.

Yours,

Y/N, May 2, 1998

***

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #battle of hogwarts #letters to milena #george weasley oneshot #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #letters to george #angst #wizarding war

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cherry-pop-elf · 29 days

Text

Home Sweet Home

Ron Weasley x Reader

Ron had always been self conscious about his family, and felt like you would leave him if you saw his humble home. That you deserved better. Little did he know, you were about to live the cottage core dream. Just factor in a bunch of hot older brothers, and Ron’s relaxing it wasn’t the house he had to worry about

Set after The Battle Of Hogwarts, and uh No Dead Fred because FLUFF DAMMIT!

Warnings: jealous Ron, self conscious Ron, teasing, a very loaded house, hurt comfort, canon typical angst(?) and of course tooth rotting fluff

Writing Coms Open

“Well…..Here we are-“ Ron swallowed, as the two of you would step from the fire place. You had been begging to visit his family, but his original excuse was that it was too dangerous to travel. Valid, but the war had ended. Sure, just because the war was over didn’t mean things were all tied off. Still, he can’t just hide you forever. You out right threatened to write a letter to Molly, and ask to come over yourself. That made him cave.

“Woah-!” You just beamed, as you set your bag down. You were already utterly enchanted. It was so cozy, and busy! You could hear the many siblings all around the building. Ron had warned you the place would be packed. After the war, it was a need to be closer to family. So, a Summer at the burrow it was. Oh all the romantic partners, jammed in. You included.

“Who should I meet first?!” You asked, as Ron seemed flabbergasted. You were in love with the madness, and hardly were here a minute. Before he could speak, he was tackled by the twins. Ronniekins was quick to fill the living room, as they ruffled his hair. Pinching his cheeks, and just being a menace.

You knew the twins, and Ginny, well. It was Percy, and up, that were as forgien as their hair was orange. Percy was always so busy with his studies, you sometimes forgot it was a gaggles of seven, and not six. Made it more surprising to see him, but not a surprise that it was in a suit.

“It’s complicated-“ Ron was quick to whisper, to make sure you knew not to bring up the Ministry job. You just nodded your head, as you watched the up tight man hang up his suit jacket. Hardly gave the man time to register you were there, before your were suddenly engulfed by the sent of fire crackers. Along with long arms.

“OUR LITTLE RONNIE-KINS IS ALL GROWN UP-!” The twins would give a mock sob, as George would cradle Ron’s head. It was, painfully, easy to tell who was who. Poor George. Still handsome as ever, but that’s gotta mess with your head after all. From identical, to not.

“Alright, that’s four brothers down. Two to go-!” You tried to make sure the mood stayed chipper, while your poor boyfriend was being a knuckle to his scalp. You could hear Molly tsking, before she shouted. “BOYS-! DONT MAKE ME GRAB CHARLIE-!” She warned.

“As if I’m any better-!” That had you turn your head, and woof. He was, oh he was something. The thick muscles, sun kisses skin, freckles, the fire crisped mullet, currently being tied back by blistered hands. Oh he was hot, and literally as well. You could feel the heat on his exposed skin. Given it was a tank top and jeans, damn was there a burn.

“THEN WILLIAM-!” Molly groaned, as he was next to pop his head in. You tried not to wince, but it couldn’t be helped. Half his face was just….Not there anymore. The right side of his face was rough. Blinded eye, his cheek in a permeant split to always expose his teeth. How the scar went through his hair, so to leave a permeant part. Despite it all, there was beauty. Pale complexion from exhaustion with curses, tall frame, long hair. He was stunning.

“Looks like Ronnie-Kins has competition~!” The twins mocked Ron, which made his ears go red. He was always self conscious. Even before you knew he even had brothers. He was always the last out. Even Ginny seemed to have more superiority than him. Despite the fact she was outside, riding her broom, he still would be last to the table. That’s what he thought, anyway.

“Yeah, the married men are in a contest with their little brother.” Bill snorted, as he waved his hand. Showing off his band. “Yeah, sorry, I like my men like I like my dragons. Dragons-“ You had no idea what that meant, but you were certain you’ll learn eventually. You knew not everyone was here yet, after all.

“Can SOMEONE help me with the cooking already?!” Molly shouted, only for every man in the room to scatter. You found that so rude to do to Molly, but then it clicked. Bonding time for you and her. Ok, that was sweet. They get a pass, this time.

“I’m here, Mama Molly!” You chirped, as you hurried into the kitchen. That smile of hers just warmed your soul, as she patted your cheek. “Oh thank you, love.” And like that, you were busy in the kitchen. Happily listening to the endless stories she had to share. Your favorites were of Ron, of course. It was, however, nice to be caught up to speed about the other couples.

Fleur and Bill were married, of course. Ron wanted to invite you to the wedding, but your family wanted to stay out of England until things settled. Smart choice. Charlie finding someone was a surprise, but rumor has it the guy is literally part dragon. That explains that. Percy seemed to hit it off with Oliver, that caught you by surprised. The nerd, and the jock? No way. Fred and George seemed to be sharing Angelina. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine it any other way. Muggle twins weren’t the same as magical ones, that’s for sure. Ginny wasn’t a surprise. She and Luna became official a while ago. Everyone knew that poor Ginny felt like she had to like Harry. Seemed the same was for The Boy Who Lived. So it was mutual, and healthy. Good for them.

“Jeez, that’s a lot of food-“ You wheezed, as you had to use magic to float said food over. “Seven kids, six partners. Half of said kids eat like they are five kids at once-!” She huffed, but was happy. Ever since things finally settled down, a proper income was flying their way. Curse breaker, Dragonologist, WWW, Aurur, Quidditch Athelet. Good fortune smiled on them, finally.

“Sorry for being late-! You would not believe the-Oh-! Well if it isn’t Ron’s little honey bee. So happy to see you-!” Arthur didn’t even take the time to pull his robe off. Just so quick to hug you. That made you feel so adored. Didn’t even take the time to deformal. You had to be hugged.

“Seems like just about everyone is here for supper. Fleur and Luna are upstairs, Angelina, Ginny, and Oliver are outside, we just need-“ Before she could finish, you screamed. Why did you scream? Because something was grabbing your ankle. You gave a violent kick, and the thing went flying into the sink.

“THAT WAS NOT CHARLIE-!” A voice alerted you, and the parents, as someone was quick to hurry to said sink. Long salt and pepper hair was a curtain down his back, while he seemed to wear a robe of some kind. Yukata-? Hanfu-? You didn’t really know the names. You just knew it was no bath robe.

“Shouren, we talked about this-“ Molly gave a playful scold, as she wasn’t mad at all. The Weasley twins had to get that playful side from both families after all. “Apologies, I….We haven’t seen each other in months, and I-“ He defended, as you were able to process the scene.

What went flying was a mechanical arm of sorts. The silvery eyed man, full of scars, would soon lower the side of his robe. There was a scarred up shoulder, with plating on it. With a simple click, and pop, the arm was attached. Fingers were given a test movement, before Molly dried it off for him.

“Oh, hello-!” He waved, with his working arm. “Sorry about that, I’m Long Shouren-“ He offered his hand, and you took it. “Weasleys, am I right?” You joke, as to show no hard feelings. Least your screams of bloody murder was making everyone hurry to the kitchen. PTSD does that.

“Wonderful! William set the table, Charlie grab the drinks-“ Molly was quick to run down the list, and send out orders. Like a well oiled machine. Robes were hung up, people were set, and everything was in order. Just one issue. There was zero chance everyone will fit at the table. No worries, with Luna.

“Let’s sit where we feel ourselves feel most at peace, so we can take a moment to savor.” Luna said, ever in her whimsical way. So, everyone was kinda scattered around. As if that was an issue. Weasleys were loud. Voices could carry for miles.

As expected, couples found their ways to snuggle. Molly and Arthur remained at the table, with Bill and Fleur. Same goes for Percy and Oliver. The twins had Angelina squished between themselves on the couch, while Charlie was sitting cross legged with Shouren. Ginny and Luna? They stole the free counter space, and happily kicked their feet.

“This house-“ Ron huffed, as you snuggled into him at the dinner table. That seemed to relax him, a little. Still, he seemed to more so play with his food. Compared to actually eating it. His eyes catching glances at his siblings. Everyone seemed so in tuned with each other. Even Percy and Oliver. Oliver the one to lead the conversation, and Percy listened.

“Come on, eat. Someone’s gotta keep fit to kick some death eater behind.” You teased, with a poke to his nose. Made that freckled thing wiggle, and you were a giggle at it. Maybe he was over thinking it. Despite all the chaos around you all, your eyes were focused on him. All his brothers were so loud in their personalities. Ginny all the same. Loud, beautiful, chaotic, then there was him.

“So who wants to be the next test subject-?” Angelina called, while Luna was quick to raise her hand. “LUNA NO-!” Ginny wheezed, as everyone was laughing at her eager nature. “I lost enough limbs, thank you very much-“ Shouren called, waving his fake arm. “I mean-“ Oliver began. “Do NOT entertain them-“ Percy warned. Bill was just shaking his head at them, as the conversation flowed like water. The time going by.

When dinner had long since been finished, and Bill finished helping Molly with washing the dishes, everyone was sent to bed. Travel was exhausting after all. You couldn’t help but wonder how the hell Bill and Charlie were going to handle sharing a room with two extra people. Those thoughts were washed away, as you entered Ron’s room.

“I know it’s not much-“ He began, only for your gasp to hush him. “YOUR ROOM IS SO COOL-!” You beamed, as you spun around in it. You loved it. It was so him. It also had a semi tiny balcony, that you were quick to look over. Enjoying the warm summer night air. The smell of his home. The smell of him.

“It’s so cozy! I love cozy.” You beamed, as you hurried back in. Happily admiring his many posters, pictures and what have you. It was so perfect, because it was Ron. You couldn’t help it, as you flopped on his bed. Messy with quilts, and smelled of wood and rain.

“Yer not just saying that, right?” He asked, with his ears a soft red. He just always had such low self esteem. Everything felt like it was hidden behind other words. That nothing was honest, but you were. You would sit up, and smiled.

“Ron, you think I dated you for some kind of hero credit? Lame. Give me the cute red head helping teach the first years chess, thank you very much.” You smirked, as his face burned red. Course you remembered that. You wanted to learn chess as well, but you felt shy because you were the same age. So you often just watched, and the rest was history.

“Now come on. I’m exhausted. I love your family, but wow….” You yawned, as Ron agreed. He grew up with them, but the energy is hard to match. Before either of you could fall asleep, you bother were quick to change into your sleep wear. That more so being stealing his shirt before he could even get it on. He allowed it, because you looked good in it.

“Think you can handle a whole summer of this?” Ron asked, as you curled up into his arms. Just like a puzzle. It felt so perfect. His strong arms around you, as he gently played with your hair. Legs a tangle mess, as you both hid under a thin blanket. Able to enjoy the summer night air.

“If I have you, I’ll face anything.” You smiled, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. It was returned, as he held you a little tighter. As if you said a spell to lock him in place. He felt a little more confident in the relationship now, and that made you so happy.

Hardly a minute went by, and you two were knocked out cold. His snores just perfect for your white noise. The sounds of nature, Ron, an old house full of love, and the crickets outside. With the smells of love, and home, to soothe you. What more could you want? The whole world was in your arms, and no way will you part from it.

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moonmaiden1996 · 1 year

Text

Dear Wife

Phineas Black x Reader A story requested by dear @snail-noodle Warning breeding kink.

Please leave a comment

Requests Welcome!!!! The smutty the better!

You quickened your pace to fall in step with your husband. Phineas Black had always been highly strung, more so lately. He was far more prone to headaches and sleepless nights these days than in the first blissful days of your union. Phineas had given up a lot for you, been burnt from his family tree and taken up the Headmaster position at Hogwarts to allow you to marry finally and be safe away from his pureblood fanatic family.

Despite his more abrupt nature, you couldn't help but cast a worried look as his jaw clenched tightly as he pulled you down the dirt track. You noticed it at the Honeydukes when you bumped into your former schoolmate and her impressive brood of children and when you passed by the adorable baby wizard section in the tailors. Come to mention it, he had been like this when you sent him to visit Professor Weasely while her rather loud and noisy family invaded the castle during the Christmas break.

"My love, what is wrong." You panted as you struggled to keep pace in the ridiculously layered dress he had brought you.

"Nothing, my dear." He sighed, loosening his grip.

You fell into silence again as you passed the toyshop, filled with colour wood, as a bright rocking horse catching your attention.

"Ohh look, I had toys like that; I think I must have it somewhere; I think I would like to do it up like this… lots of ribbons…maybe if we have children one day, they could play with it." You cooed.

‘‘Do you mean it?’’ a quiet whimper asked from behind

"Mean what, my love?" you hummed.

"That you would like children one day."

"Oh yes", you mumbled absentmindedly, eyeing the ribbons you could use on your old rocking horse. "A whole gaggle of them, we could outdo the Weasley," you laughed as you straightened, hand poised to go in when it was snatched back.

Gasping, you stubbled as your husband pulled you towards the floo, swearing as he stared at the long line, dragging you passed it and up the footpath.

"Phineas! What on earth!...slow down…" You called as your husband slipped his arm around your waist to hurry you.

Your questions fell on deaf ears as you were dragged along.

"Are you upset that I want children…I know we have never spoken about it, but if you don't want to we…" your spluttering was caught off by a strong, sound kiss.

"Oh, my perfect wife," He purred as he directly past the tree line, drapping you over a large smooth boulder. "you deserve far more than this, but I cannot wait. I need to be inside you." He growled, tugging at his jacket.

Wide-eyed, you stared at him as his silk jacket was thrown to the floor, waist coat strawn not far away from it, followed by his braces before his hands ripped at your bodice. Your body jerked at the force, but you said nothing as he tore away at your dress till it was left in tatters beneath you.

'Phineus.." you whimpered, cowering under his feral gaze.

"Oh, my dear wife, already glistening for me…I will fill you till you swell…' he groaned as he loosed his breeches, just enough for his straining member to escape as he climbed over you, wrapping your naked thighs around him as he plunged into you.

Arching near fully off the rough stone, you squealed at your husband's raw movements as he pounded into you.

You should be embarrassed at the lewd squelch as your wetness coated his cock, but you could barely care as a wave of pleasure washed over you, settling in the pit of your stomach as it built.

"Phineus…I…arghhh…please' you whimper as he pulled your hips up forward and rutted deeper into you, deeper than he had ever been.

"Oh, that in my darling, I can feel you fluttering around me, greedily girl, begging to make me a daddy. Don't worry, sweet wife; you will." He cooed into your ear as he moved over you.

The little grove was filled with growls and shrieks that poured out of both of you, the sound of slapping skin vibrating against the stones and trees.

"You are going to look so good carrying our child. I will have you ride me every day so that I can see your beautiful body swell." He grunted as his pace picked up, sending you hurtling to the edge.

"Oh, that's it, come for me, my love…I want that pussy ready to take my seed." He purred.

With one more drag of his cock against your walls, you came screaming, core tightening around him.

Limply you watched your husband's face contort in a wave of primal passion as your walls milked him for every ounce of his cum. You didn’t even have another strength to fight as his skilled fingers began to manipulate your clit, pulling another orgasm from you

‘’That it cum again, got to make sure you take all my seed.’’ He praised as you came with a violent whimper.

‘’It's okay, my love; let me take care of you.’’ He cooed before adding darkly. ‘’don’t worry; I'll keep you full till you start to swell.’’

#phineas black #headmaster black #phineas black x reader #headmaster black x reader #hogwarts legacy

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panandinpain0 · 8 months

Text

Big Family

Had some time during school today so I wrote this! Hope it isn't bad :P

Also, do you want to be added to the taglist @mailmango?

Ron Weasley x Male!Ravenclaw!Granger!Reader

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Holding hands was always so calming to Ron. He was very touchy, not only with (Y/N). It wasn't anything weird, it's just that his love language is physical touch, so he'd hug his friends without shame, and after finding out his boyfriend was 100% okay with PDA, he went for it. Any moment he could, he'd be touching (Y/N): hands on his shoulders or around his waist, lips brushing his neck, and he really loved when (Y/N) would sit on his lap.

For the snuggles aspect, of course.

Not for any other reason.

But after feeling particularly ignored by his family, not that they did it on purpose- but it happens- he seeks comfort through the touch of his boyfriend.

Laying on his bed in the Ravenclaw dorms, to avoid Harry's teasing, the boys held each other.

Ron's head was on (Y/N)'s chest as he laid on top of him, legs intertwined. (Y/N) had his arms around Ron, one hand coming up to comb through his hair. The motion further relaxed the hot headed Gryffindor, nearly luring him to sleep.

Ron reached up and took the hand from his hair, pressing a kiss to it instead. A blush spread across (Y/N)'s face as Ron placed the hand to his cheek, nuzzling it fondly.

"Ron?" (Y/N) hesitantly whispered into the calm air.

"Yes, honey?" Ron replied, his voice muffled with sleep.

"I love you."

Ron gasped awake, putting his hands on the mattress under (Y/N). He pushed himself up until he was eye-level with his boyfriend.

"You love me?" Ron repeated with an incredulous look.

"Yes. I'm in love with you. I love you." (Y/N) cupped his cheeks, tracing his freckles. The Gryffindor merely started in shock, fists clutching the blue blanket beneath them.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Insecurity and self-doubt overtook him and he scrambled off his Ravenclaw partner, sitting a the edge of the bed.

(Y/N) took this as rejected, sitting up and staring at his boyfriend's side profile. HIs brows were creased and his lip was trembling.

"I'm sorry, I thought I'd waited long enough- is it too soon for 'I love you's'?" (Y/N) asked, voice filled with anxiety. Placing his hand on Ron's shoulder, he flinched back as Ron pushed it off just as quickly as it had taken its place. He stood up, a stomp in his step as he turned to face (Y/N).

Red in the face, his breath picked up, but (Y/N) could see the tears gathering in his eyes.

"Why?" Ron asked harshly, fists clenched at his sides.

"'Why' what?" (Y/N) repeated gently, more worried for Ron than anything.

"Why me?"

(Y/N) couldn't formulate a response, eyebrows meeting in confusion.

"I'm fucking worthless, (Y/N)! You're a Granger- and a Ravenclaw- top of your class. I'm such an idiot I barely get past 'Poor' in my marks! Not only that but you're so handsome it hurts- but look at me! You deserve better than-"

Suddenly his face was in (Y/N)'s hands, both of them crying. Ron hadn't noticed the tears until now, the wet drops being wiped away by the pads of (Y/N)'s fingers.

"Stop it, Ron. You are not worthless-" Ron opened his mouth but (Y/N) shushed him- "You need to listen to what I'm about to say. You are the most beautiful man I've every met. And you are so smart-"

"I'm not as smart as Percy-"

"Fuck Percy! Listen, I love your family, but you must stop comparing yourself to your brothers and me, no matter how often your mother does. Just because you don't get the same marks as Percy or me doesn't mean you're dumber than us. I know nothing about quidditch!"

"Yes, you do."

"All I know I learned from you. Wizarding currency? You taught me about that too. And I'm sure you could beat Percy in any trivia about historic wizards." (Y/N) laughed and Ron matched his watery chuckle.

"You are just enough for me, Ron. More than enough, more than I could ask for. I love you, and you are more than deserving of my love."

Ron smiled, still crying, before pulling (Y/N) into a hug. His head tucked into (Y/N)'s neck and he breathed in his comforting scent.

"It's okay that you aren't ready to say it back, I just wanted you to know how I feel." (Y/N) let his hand run up and down his back, his other hand slipping into Ron's hair.

"Thank you."

---

Ta-Da!!!

-Author Max <3

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #x he/him reader #x male!reader #harry potter #harry potter x male!reader #harry potter fandom #ron weasley x male!reader #ron x reader #ron weasley x reader #ron x male!reader #ron weasely #ronald weasley

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