#George Knut

[jens-holland]

While rewatching season 2 of Vikings Valhalla today, I brainstormed a few possible storylines that they might pursues for season 3.

Since Olaf is already dead and he was like,, technically meant to be a major player for another 20 years, it's hard to imagine what sort of conflict they could come up with for the Norway arc, so it'll probably be something made-up, but Olaf's son Magnus will likely be back. Hopefully, they'll bring in Einar Thambarskelfir, a wealthy landowner in northern Norway, who irl brought Magnus back from Kiev after his father's death. Maybe, he'll make his play for power in Olaf's name!

They probably won't explore anything in Denmark or Sweden (especially since they just did not fill us in on anything that Knut was doing in Denmark this past season), but in England there are plenty of possibilities: they could bring in the earls of Bamburgh (and the real Uhtred the Bold, not the self-insert one from TLK), they could address the struggle to bring Mercia into the fold that they sort of/sort of did not wrap up in season 1, and there is always fucking Scotland!! I would love to see Knut put Malcolm II in his place and host that meeting with Malcolm, Macbeth, and Echmarcach mac Ragnaill that happens around 1030.

Also Knut related: I wonder if he'll be visiting Rome in season 3, because there are several actors credited as cardinals on imdb and Knut did travel to Rome irl also around 1030. If he does go to Rome, I hope we encounter Conrad II because they were like bffs (and lowkey kind of gay).

I have nothing to go off of for Freydis's plot, but over in Constantinople, I wonder if Leif will find maps leading to North America when he reaches Mariam's house. As for Harald, Kaysan, and Batu (the later two I expect will join Harald in the Varangian Guard), hopefully they'll go to Sicily with Maniakes and if we're lucky, we'll encounter William Ironarm or other Norman warlords fucking around in Italy at that time. Either that, or I'd be down for a greater focus on the political drama that is RIFE in Constantinople. I don't have high hopes that John the Orphanotrophos will show up, but if Romanos is supposed to be Romanos Diogenes, we'll have the Doukai opposing him, the fateful Battle of Manzikert, and possibly even the Komnenoi since the writers/producers only seem to care about bringing in the well known families/events rather than trying to bring lesser known but historically relevant figures to the big screen.

Somehow, they're also bringing Eirik the Red into the show, so I wonder if maybe Freydis will be returning home to Greenland, but again, this is where I'm less knowledgable, so no matter what happens I will definitely be surprised. I already know that literally all of my expectations here will be subverted; I don't know how they do it, but they manage it EVERY TIME.

[consumedshadow-mysticmc]

When you are trying to do the match math for

1,000GIL divided by 3 equals ??

And you get as far as, that would be 333Gil a a piece; but can’t remember how many knuts make a Gil, and so don’t know how much the last Gil divides into.

[grandhotelabyss]

Advice/hard truths for writers?

The best piece of practical advice I know is a classic from Hemingway (qtd. here):

The most important thing I’ve learned about writing is never write too much at a time… Never pump yourself dry. Leave a little for the next day. The main thing is to know when to stop. Don’t wait till you’ve written yourself out. When you’re still going good and you come to an interesting place and you know what’s going to happen next, that’s the time to stop. Then leave it alone and don’t think about it; let your subconscious mind do the work.

Also, especially if you're young, you should read more than you write. If you're serious about writing, you'll want to write more than you read when you get old; you need, then, to lay the important books as your foundation early. I like this passage from Samuel R. Delany's "Some Advice for the Intermediate and Advanced Creative Writing Student" (collected in both Shorter Views and About Writing):

You need to read Balzac, Stendhal, Flaubert, and Zola; you need to read Austen, Thackeray, the Brontes, Dickens, George Eliot, and Hardy; you need to read Hawthorne, Melville, James, Woolf, Joyce, and Faulkner; you need to read Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Turgenev, Goncherov, Gogol, Bely, Khlebnikov, and Flaubert; you need to read Stephen Crane, Mark Twain, Edward Dahlberg, John Steinbeck, Jean Rhys, Glenway Wescott, John O'Hara, James Gould Cozzens, Angus Wilson, Patrick White, Alexander Trocchi, Iris Murdoch, Graham Greene, Evelyn Waugh, Anthony Powell, Vladimir Nabokov; you need to read Nella Larsen, Knut Hamsun, Edwin Demby, Saul Bellow, Lawrence Durrell, John Updike, John Barth, Philip Roth, Coleman Dowell, William Gaddis, William Gass, Marguerite Young, Thomas Pynchon, Paul West, Bertha Harris, Melvin Dixon, Daryll Pinckney, Darryl Ponicsan, and John Keene, Jr.; you need to read Thomas M. Disch, Joanna Russ, Richard Powers, Carroll Maso, Edmund White, Jayne Ann Phillips, Robert Gluck, and Julian Barnes—you need to read them and a whole lot more; you need to read them not so that you will know what they have written about, but so that you can begin to absorb some of the more ambitious models for what the novel can be.

Note: I haven't read every single writer on that list; there are even three I've literally never heard of; I can think of others I'd recommend in place of some he's cited; but still, his general point—that you need to read the major and minor classics—is correct.

The best piece of general advice I know, and not only about writing, comes from Dr. Johnson, The Rambler #63:

The traveller that resolutely follows a rough and winding path, will sooner reach the end of his journey, than he that is always changing his direction, and wastes the hours of day-light in looking for smoother ground and shorter passages.

I've known too many young writers over the years who sabotaged themselves by overthinking and therefore never finishing or sharing their projects; this stems, I assume, from a lack of self-trust or, more grandly, trust in the universe (the Muses, God, etc.). But what professors always tell Ph.D. students about dissertations is also true of novels, stories, poems, plays, comic books, screenplays, etc: There are only two kinds of dissertations—finished and unfinished. Relatedly, this is the age of online—an age when 20th-century institutions are collapsing, and 21st-century ones have not yet been invented. Unless you have serious connections in New York or Iowa, publish your work yourself and don't bother with the gatekeepers.

Other than the above, I find most writing advice useless because over-generalized or else stemming from arbitrary culture-specific or field-specific biases, e.g., Orwell's extremely English and extremely journalistic strictures, not necessarily germane to the non-English or non-journalistic writer. "Don't use adverbs," they always say. Why the hell shouldn't I? It's absurd. "Show, don't tell," they insist. Fine for the aforementioned Orwell and Hemingway, but irrelevant to Edith Wharton and Thomas Mann. Freytag's Pyramid? Spare me. Every new book is a leap in the dark. Your project may be singular; you may need to make your own map as your traverse the unexplored territory.

Hard truths? There's one. I know it's a hard truth because I hesitate even to type it. It will insult our faith in egalitarianism and the rewards of earnest labor. And yet, I suspect the hard truth is this: ineffables like inspiration and genius count for a lot. If they didn't, if application were all it took, then everybody would write works of genius all day long. But even the greatest geniuses usually only got the gift of one or two all-time great work. This doesn't have to be a counsel of despair, though: you can always try to place yourself wherever you think lightning is likeliest to strike. That's what I do, anyway. Good luck!

[gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley]

The Weasley and his Cafe [G.W. x Reader]

Summary: George runs a little cafe in Diagon Alley

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i've actually had this idea in my drafts from April but never really bothered to finish it :') inspired by the time I went to a cosy little cafe and found the worker there really cuteehrjrhadsdjkasdkashdkhewastoooldforme. i love the idea of george starting up a cafe soo much

-

You hated Mondays. 

They seemed to suck the life out of you, one hour at a time. Long, winding hours that dragged on for centuries, doing hocus pocus groggily: like walking through thick sludge with weights tied to your ankles and eyelashes. So, to fix that, you found yourself strolling down Diagon Alley, looking for your fix of morning coffee. Just your luck, a new cafe had opened down the street. 

With the ring of a bell, a voice boomed from the far end of the little wizard-owned cafe.

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wonderful Waffles; we offer more than just waffles, though. Had to keep up the alliteration! But I assure you, our waffles are wicked.”

A tall, young man emerged from the back with an ivory espresso cup in one hand, and a cloth in the other. His freckled face stretched widely into a friendly smile. A cream-striped brown apron with a large “W” embroidered in green wrapped around his waist, his long red hair had been tied up into a topknot while long stray hairs framed his face. You could’ve sworn you saw a few piercings on his right ear.

The man then unsheathed his wand from his waistband, and, with the flick of a wrist, a chair slid out for you to sit on.

“Table for one, I presume?”

“Um! Yes, please.” 

You fiddled with the fleece of your coat, unsure of what to make of the lively interaction this early in the morning. The last time you checked your watch, which wasn't long ago, it had only been a quarter past seven. Where on Earth did this man's energy come from? “Lovely! The menu will talk to you shortly. I’ll be by the counter once you’re ready to order, love.” He said with a wink, and strode off.

Not long after, a shrill voice directed your attention to below you. The menu had grown a mouth and started listing out various pastries and drinks, though rather slowly. Do Monday Blues apply to talking menus? You thought to yourself.

The drag and sibilance had almost lulled you back to sleep before a “Weasley Latte” and “Wicked Waffle” jerked you awake. The dish names were certainly riveting. Just what exactly makes this latte a Weasley, and this waffle Wicked?

“I’ll have a Weasley Latte and a Wicked Waffle, please.” You said to the red-haired man at the counter not long after making your choice.

“Alright, that’ll be…” He fiddled with the cash-register that either barked or hissed each time he pressed a button, “1 Galleon, 12 Sickles, and 5 Knuts, dear.” He said with a delightful hum and looked up from the cash register to you with that same lovely smile.

For a brief moment, your eyes met. His were a lovely shade of hazel that glimmered in the morning sunlight that leaked through the blinds, revealing a deep chocolate shade underneath them, and before either of you could say a thing, a wave of customers dressed in Ministry robes swarmed the cafe engrossed in light chatter. You quickly pulled out the gold and silver from your purse with a flustered smile and scurried back off to your table by the window, muttering a quiet thank you.

He watched as you resigned yourself back to your table, amused at the interaction. His wide smile did not once falter.

It didn’t take long for you to be enamoured by the man’s cafe. 

Little trinkets that laid around on display occasionally burst out into life, flying around the cafe all the while putting a smile on the faces of customers. Magical portraits that hung around were either crocheting, enjoying a nice cuppa, or taking a catnap. You could’ve sworn there was a portrait of a man who looked exactly like him in deep sleep.

The counter housed a glass dish with coffee beans that smelled magical: a mix of chocolate and deep roasted notes. Fairy lights adorned the walls, adding to the warm and cosy atmosphere. Flowers came to life, engaging in conversation with people who seemed like they could use some company, and you were one of them.

Said flowers would occasionally mourn the dried flowers on display, “She was my best friend, she was. If only she hadn’t been so stubborn about that diet! Every flower knows they need to be watered every day, and not every three days!”

A vase of asphodels bubbled animatedly, each bud asked you about your day and asked if the waffles were really nice. You nodded politely and tried to offer a bud a bite of your waffles, but then remembered flowers probably couldn’t stomach waffles even if they tried.

“George is lovely, isn’t he?” One of the buds started as its leaves flailed around excitedly

“Terribly lovely!” A tiny sprout beside it giggled, “He always waters us with that lovely concoction! Makes my roots smoother.”

Ah, so his name’s George.

Then, before you knew it, you were back at the cafe the next week.

And the following.

Soon enough, you dropped by every day ordering the same Weasley Latte and the occasional waffle, and perhaps a glance or two at George. By then, you figured out what made a Weasley Latte a Weasley Latte was the extra spice it had to it. It tasted like nutmeg with hints of cinnamon and a spicy kick of ginger at the end. It really does the trick, waking you up and all.

George would drop by your table every now and then with a platter of different pastries in hand each time, saying it was “on the house” or "we had extra". You began to wonder who "we" was, because by the looks of it, he was the only one running the cafe, unless there was an elf with a Disillusionment charm running around. How he does it, you didn’t know; but he did a magnificent job running the cafe even during peak hours. You couldn’t help but admire that about him. He didn’t seem to crack under pressure and always wore that smile as if handling a hundred over customers was child’s play.

One particular day, the caffeine coursing through your veins had emblazoned you to do the unthinkable. Before George could walk off after the usual platter offering of enchanted eclairs this time, you spoke up.

“Um! Whatimed’youend?” You blurted out, face flushed.

Bloody brilliant. You ought to Scourgify your mouth and Obliviate yourself when you get home. Maybe invest in a Pensieve too, just to relive this memory every time you need to ground yourself.

“Sorry, dear? I didn’t quite catch that.” George cocked his head to the side.

You quickly composed yourself, “What time do you end?”

Was it even possible for the man’s smile to widen even further? Surely it couldn’t be. Nevertheless, he managed to grin twice as wide. He shoved his tea towel into the front pocket of his apron.

“Eleven. You can tell me all about yourself when I close up shop, love.” He said, winked, and walked off, leaving you in a stupor as he tended to a customer in need of a refill of water.

“Oh, goodness, Y/N’s in love.” The vase of asphodels cooed in a sing-song fashion.

“Am not!” You argued, but the wild grin on your face said otherwise as you tried to help yourself to the eclairs and now-tepid coffee. You should’ve casted a Stasis charm on it.

“Are too!” A pot of lilies giggled.

* * *

Eleven o'clock surprisingly came faster than you were actually ready for. Bloody hell, did someone speed up your watch? Nevertheless, you flattened out the creases in your clothes, checked yourself out in the mirror, and combed through your hair for the umpteenth time before finally heading out. 

Curse you, caffeine high.

You apparated with a crack in front of the cafe, and found him closing up. His back was turned to the window while he enchanted the mops and brooms to clean the floor. Chairs levitated and rested upside down on the tables. A couple of “Scourgify'' charms got rid of coffee stains and crumbs left behind by crumbly pastries.

His head then craned upwards to the vase of asphodels that whispered to him. Then, he quickly twirled around. You stood there, smiling awkwardly at him through the window as his mouth was left agape. He looked down at his watch, then back at you, then his hands flew up to his head in exasperation as though he had forgotten he left a fire-breathing dragon unattended in a wooden home.

“Oh, Merlin! I lost track of time! I’ll be with you shortly, dear!”

It was only five minutes past eleven, what was the rush?

Five minutes later, he came running out of the cafe with a few paper bags in hand and apron neatly shrunk and tucked away into his back pocket. The sleeves of his sweater were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his forearms. His hair was now out of the top-knot. It rested nicely on his broad shoulders, and framed his face even more delicately. He brushed a strand behind his ear, now revealing the piercings you had suspected were there. 

You quickly swallowed the lump in your throat and looked elsewhere before he caught you staring.

“Did you wait long?” He asked as he cast charms on the shop.

“Not really, it’s alright.” You said as he muttered the last few charms, completely thief-proofing it.

After sheathing his wand in his waistband, he stuck out his arm in an offer for you to take it as the two of you began your trip down the alley and to nowhere in particular.

Then, silence befell the two of you as you walked down the streets of Diagon Alley. The moon was in full view as stars glimmered in the night sky. The sound of your heels clicking down the cobbled pathway of the street echoed throughout the now-quiet town. In the corner of your eye, you saw Madam Malkin closing up shop.Ollivander’s was already closed. Eeylops Owl Emporium was still open, surprisingly.

“You know, I never really caught your name,” George started, breaking the silence, “Oh, and before I forget, these are for you.”

He reached out, offering you a white paper bag with the same green “W” that was on his apron.

“Eclairs, dear. I saw you eating them with a lot of gusto.” He chuckled.

“I– Oh my goodness–,” You flushed, “I’m Y/N, by the way. You’re George, right? The flowers talk about you a lot.” you managed out as you accepted the paper bag.

George’s face brightened.

“Indeed, I am! And you’re from Hogwarts, too, aren’t you? I think I remember you getting your cauldron stuck to the table in fifth year potions, was it? Cost your house a fortune for that from Snape, didn’t you?” He said, eyes twinkling with each word that came out.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds in awe. How on earth did he remember that? That was, what? Aeons ago? 

And soon, the night was spent walking aimlessly as you both recounted your years at Hogwarts. He rambled about his family, the shop, and quidditch. (“The Irish team remain undefeated, I dare say!”) You rambled on and on about your freelance writing career and a novel you were itching to publish. Neither of you really seemed to touch on the war. It was best that way. 

You both shared a particular distaste for the Daily Prophet, and had shared horrible experiences with Rita Skeeter.

“Honestly, I can’t stand her! Did you know? My sister-in-law found out she was an unlicensed Animagus in her fourth year and held her captive in a glass jar? Brilliant, she is.”

“By sister-in-law, you mean Hermione Granger? Minister for Magic? That’s wonderful, George.” 

Your head craned down over to your watch, then over to your front door. You must have subconsciously walked the path home while in deep conversation with him.

“Well, George. Thanks for the night. It’s been lovely– you’ve been lovely. Well, here’s my house.” You said sheepishly as the two of you stood outside your door facing each other.

He chuckled, “You’ve been quite lovely yourself.”

Silence. 

Then,

“No, you’ve been really, really, lovely. The free pastries, the wonderful lattes– I mean what on earth is it that you put inside it? It’s magical, that’s what it is– and your cafe’s interior design is just brilliant–” You found yourself rambling like a hormonal teenage girl confessing her love to her crush. Then, a hand found its way to your cheek, cupping it as his face leaned into your ear, with barely a whisper.

“Don’t worry, I fancy you too.”

A quick peck was placed. He winked that same signature wink that left you weak in the knees. Then, he Disapparated, smiling at you with that stupidly beautiful smile.

The sound of the crack echoed and lingered for a while, ringing in your ears as did those six words that left you speechless.

Then, the ringing faded out and clarity came crashing in like a tsunami. It hit like a stunning spell.

“He fancies me, too.”

--

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 9

Chapter Summary: The first tournament task goes down, reader has an annoying partner for the Yule Ball Dance practice, and ends up with a ruined dress.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers + hurt/comfort

Content Warnings - cursing,

Word Count - 4.0k

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navi

The cold November air nipped at your face, it felt like you’d been standing out here for ages. You’ve lost count at the amount of times you heard someone say the first task of the tournament could start any moment now.

You had no idea who’d be going first, what dragon they’d be fighting, or what type of dragons there were, but you were horrified.

The familiar shouting of those two annoying twins you hated interrupted your thoughts, now you really regretted allowing yourself to be accidentally separated from Katie and Angelina.

“Gonna place your bets before it starts?” Fred hopped down next to you.

“See if Mr.Diggory will be able to outsmart the dragon?” George added, holding open a suit case, the names of each selected scribbled across the top, the bottom part was covered by a good amount of knuts, sickles, even some galleons.

“Or outcharm?” Fred looked at his brother as they both snickered. You let a heavy breath out through your nose.

“If I give you a sickle will you two leave me be?” You stood up from your leaned position on the wooden rails.

“Probably not-” George shrugged.

“We’ve already gone around the entire pitch now-”

“But you could still try and see!” George pretended to close the suitcase then reopen it, wiggling his brows. You glared at him and shut it.

“Worth a try.” He mumbled, snapping the latches shut.

You turned your attention back to the field, waiting for someone to walk out, for something to happen. The air was especially chilly today and you could feel your nose start to run, making you sniffle a bit. Unwillingly getting the attention of Fred.

“Those earmuffs can’t be doing much for you.” He nudged.

“They’re doing enough.” Which was a lie, they were doing so much less than enough. You’ve had those things since your first year and they were absolutely past their prime, they were barely blocking the cold from your ears.

“We both know that's not true, how ‘bout we swap?” He grinned as he pointed to his green and white beanie, you shook your head and grimaced in response. As always, Fred would not be taking no as an answer.

You tried to protest as he took off your earmuffs, hanging them around his neck and then taking off his beanie, shoving it onto your head and tugging it down until it went past your eyes.

Originally you were going to rip the beanie off, steal your earmuffs back, and maybe give Fred a harsh shove. But once you shifted the hat to where it wasn’t blinding you, the new warmth spreading around your head and across your cheeks was so much better. So comfortable.

“Nice, eh?” Fred smirked at you, you shrugged off his words, quickly turning your eyes back to the field as the stadium began to roar. A knot formed in your stomach once you saw the yellow and gold uniform, Cedric was first.

A silvery blue scaled dragon came out next. It was chained, but looked as if it still had enough room to move a good amount around the field. Its screeching roar made the knot feel tighter.

Hermione, who was just a row in front of you yelled something about it being a Swedish Short-Snout and flames being able to turn “your bones into ashes in seconds.” God, you felt terrified.

What if something happens? What if the chain breaks? What if Cedric gets truly hurt?

The creature whipped its tail just a few feet in front of Cedric. You gasped as the rest of the stadium did.

Cedric was able to get the golden egg in fifteen minutes, though it felt like an hour. You spent most of his turn with your hands over your face, peeking through your fingers.

Watching closely as he transfigured a rock into a dog to distract the dragon and began to run towards the egg. A yelp emerged from your throat once the dragon opened its mouth, turning its head towards Cedric letting blue flames blast out towards him, who was now jumping for cover behind a boulder.

You could see him sit up, back against the rock and hand hovering over the side of his face, which was now badly burnt.

“Well done dragon!” Fred cheered and clapped. You looked at him with a face of utter shock and disbelief.

“What is wrong with you? That thing’s gonna kill him!” You shoved him, your throat hurt from screaming.

“Oh he’ll be fine, he’s got a thick head.” Fred shrugged, continuing to cheer for the dragon.

Cedric successfully got the golden egg, then was shipped off to Madam Pompfrey for his face. You weren’t able to leave until the first task was officially over for everyone. Yet, you were already on the move to get out as soon as Dumbledore announced everyone could go. You left the pitch, immediately making your way towards the Hospital Wing.

Somehow you were able to have Madam Pompfrey let you see him this soon, she was already ushering a group of hufflepuff boys out when you were approaching the wing.

She let you go in when you promised her three minutes.

Cedric was laying flat on his back when you walked up, The one side of his face was covered in a slimy thick orange paste, you were still able to see some of the nasty marks.

“Charming right?” His voice was sarcastic as he noticed your grossed out staring, “It’s for my burns.” He frowned.

“Yeah, you look amazing.” You scoffed out a laugh, sitting down in the open chair next to his bed, “Do you know how long you’ll be here for?”

“A few days, hopefully.” You watched as his brows knit together as his eyes darted to your head, then to your face, then to your head again. “Whose hat is that?” He said blankly, eyes narrowed.

Your eyes went wide when you realized. Merlin, you didn’t even notice you still had Fred’s beanie on.

“Nobodys, it’s mine.” You stammered out, ripping the hat off and holding it tightly in your lap. Cedric stared some more at it then smirked, he could clearly see the F.W. knitted into the side of it.

“Unbelievable.” He shook his head, still smirking.

“So what's the egg do?” You ignored his silent speculation.

“I can’t believe it.” He chuckled, continuing on.

“Shut up, it was just a small favor.” You smacked his arm with the hat, “What does the egg do, Ced?” You leaned back in your seat.

“It wails. Like an ear-shattering shriek if you open it.” He said flatly and you scrunched up your face at the disappointing thought of it.

“All that struggle just for a screaming egg?” You let out a breathy chuckle, Cedric didn’t respond.

You saw his head lift up slightly and eyes glance to the entrance doors, they lit up. Looking behind you to see Cho standing there, a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in her hands and a nervous smile on her face.

“I’ll let you two have some time alone.” You looked at him in amusement, standing up and nudging his foot before leaving. You gave Cho a sweet knowing smile as you passed by her, she smiled back and nodded.

Harry was opening the golden egg by the time you entered the common room, now you knew exactly what the shrieking Cedric was talking about sounded like.

Katie and you walked into McGonagall's class confused, the floor had been cleared of all desks and chairs, except one in the corner that had an old dusty phonograph sitting on top of it, Flich standing by it.

“What do you think this is for?” Katie giggled to you as McGonagall directed the girls and boys to separate sides of the room.

“How much do you want to bet that she’s gonna make us dance?” You giggled back.

“If she does, I know who you should pick.” Katie smirked as she nodded her head to where the twins were standing. You were able to let out a sound of disgust before McGonagall began to talk.

“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since it’s inception. On Christmas Eve we and our guests we'll gather in the great hall for a night of well mannered frivolity! As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is, first and foremost…a dance.” The room erupted into gasps and silent yet excited whispers.

Katie looked at you with a lit up eyes. You gave her your best faux grin, all you felt was dread. A dance meant getting a date to go with. You weren’t very close with any of the boys in your house, Cedric would definitely use this as his chance to ask out Cho, and you wouldn’t even dare to think about asking either of the twins. Not even as a last resort.

“Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers longing to burst forth and take flight!” McGonagall turned to the girls side of the room, going on with her lecture. After a crude comment from Ron and an awkward yet humorous dance tutorial including him and McGonagall, you were instructed to find a partner to practice with.

“Everybody come together! Boys on your feet!” Of course Katie made a beeline towards George while you looked around the room. You tried your best to find a boy to dance with before they all got claimed by another girl.

There seemed to be no luck, everyone was already standing or making a way to their partners. Oh God, you were terrified this would mean you’d have to dance with Flich. You turned without looking and bumped into someone.

“Need a partner?” That someone being Fred, grinning with his hands behind his back. No luck.

Before you decided whether to reject him or not, you looked around the room one more time, looking at Filch then back at Fred who held out his hand for you. Fuck it.

You took his hand hesitantly and got in position as the music started. Fred had that same stupid smile on his face, the one that always looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter, the one he always had on when he knew he was pissing you off, when he knew you were annoyed.

“Why do you find me being miserable so amusing?” You scowled at him as you both shifted around.

“I reckon you look a bit cute when you’re frustrated.” Fred shrugged. Your eyes went wide and your feet jerked, making your movements stutter at his response.

“What?” You’d lost your train of thought, any snarky responses were gone.

“I’m being honest.” He hummed, “Now come on, let that secret slumbering swan take flight!” He encouraged, beginning to count along with the steps.

After what felt like ages of dancing around the room in circles and “accidentally” stepping on each other's feet, you exited that room as quickly as you could.

The next class was already coming down the corridor by the time you burst out the doors, you stared at the ground as you walked, mind plagued with Freds comment.

Your name being called pulled you out of your thoughts, you looked up to see a concerned Cedric walking up to you.

“You look…mortified, what’s happened now?” He lowered his chin, trying to make eye contact with you.

“I just had to dance with Fred, that was bad enough but then he…nevermind.” You chose to cut off your rant, if you told Cedric what Fred said, you’d never hear the end of it. “Anyways, we have a dance coming up on Christmas. You better ask out Cho while you can. I-I can’t talk right now, I’ve got to get to herbology.” You spoke quickly, not letting Cedric even have a second to respond before you were already on your way.

It’s been over a month since the Yule Ball has been announced. It's happening tomorrow, your dress your mum said she sent was supposed to be here by today, and you still haven't gotten a date to it. It felt as if every single person around you had paired up with someone. Even the bloody twins had scored dates with Angelina and Katie.

“And you said yes?” You gawked at Angelina as you entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

“Of course I did!” Angelina scoffed playfully.

“He threw a paper ball at you! What kind of crummy way is that?”

“It was Snape's class! We couldn’t talk, I think he was just trying to give an example to his brother too.” She shrugged.

“Great example that is.” You huffed as you three approached the table and sat down. “Still can’t believe you both agreed to go out with them.”

“They really aren't all that terrible! Sure, they’ve had some bad pranks, but they’re not evil. You just hate them.” Katie shook her head at you.

“So maybe they’re not as bad as I seek them out to be, whatever, that still doesn’t change the fact that they’re annoying. Or that you both have dates and I don’t.” You muttered out the last sentence, resting your chin on your hand.

Speaking of the twins, you hadn’t seen them all morning. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sleep in on weekends, but usually they’d be wandering around in the Great Hall or somewhere near by now. You were quickly pulled out of your self mulling when Colin, a first year, nervously tapped you on the shoulder while holding out a large box.

“Parcel for Ms.Y/L/N?” He handed it to you anxiously, you smiled and thanked him before he ran off. You felt your own face light up as soon as you saw that the package was from your mum.

“What’s that?” Katie asked, watching you stand up and excitedly tear off the wrapping paper.

“My dress for the ball!” You grinned as both girls gave you an “ooooo!” in response.

“About bloody time! I was starting to get nervous that you’d have to show up in your robes.” Angelina chuckled.

“Right?” You nodded. “I just hope it’s the right one I asked my mom to grab.” You thought out loud, and it was.

Angelina and Katie both shot up as you gasped at the sight of the dress. All three of you stared at it in awe as you carefully pulled it out of the box. God, it looked better than from when you last tried it on after you saw it sitting in your mum's closet.

It was the most beautiful shade of a pale blue you’ve ever seen, delicate yet elegant embroidered into the fabric, and a flowy skirt.

“Merlin, that’s gorgeous.” Angelina commented as you held the dress up your body. “You’ve got to try it on.”

“Yeah!” Katie agreed as she stood up. “We’ve got to see what it looks like on you!” You just waved them off.

“You two can wait until tomorrow night.” They both let out groans of protest.

“Shove off, you got to see us in our gowns!” Angelina rolled her eyes playfully.

“Yours both arrived early!”

“So? It’s only fair we get to see your late arrived one too!” Katie tugged you by the arm, beginning to try and drag you out the Great Hall. “Plus you’ve got to make sure it fits! If it doesn’t, I know some tricks.” You gave in, holding your dress up carefully and making your way towards the stairs.

The three of you grinned and giggled like you were twelve as you moved quickly up the changing stairs, it became a race of who could get to your dorms faster, and you were winning.

As you got closer to Gryfinndor tower, you felt less like an anxious bundle of nerves, forgetting about the stress of not having a date, only focused on wanting to put on that beautiful gown.

As you made your way to the Fat Ladys portrait, you ignored the giggles coming from behind the door, you thought nothing of them, it was probably girls talking about the ball and their dates. It’s been most of what you heard these past few weeks.

Angelina and Katie jogged up behind you as you showed off your dress to the woman in the portrait, earning a compliment and saying the password to be let in.

The three of you were merely entering the common room when you were met with two grinning freckled faces and some sort of liquid being thrown at you.

The twins stood across from you, holding now empty bottles. There were no longer smiles on their faces or yours. Only horrified expressions.

The room was quiet. The only noise left being a gasp leaving your lips as you looked down at your ruined gown and the sound of the droplets of ink falling from your now soaked dress hitting the common room floor.

Whatever potion/sludge/ink- Whatever disgusting watery liquid they’d thrown from the bottles had splashed all over your dress, some of it hit Angelina and Katie behind you, and your skin. But those were the least of your worries, the pale color was stained with streaks and blots of hideous orange ink.

Tears were already brimming in your eyes as the twins both began to babble apologies at the same time, their voices overlapping each other, eventually going back and forth.

“We thought you were Ron! We were trying to prank Ron!” Fred sputtered out.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen to you, this was for Ron!” George added.

“We’re so sorry y/n, we really didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“A prank?” Your voice was already wavering. “You call this a prank?” You cried out, shaking the stained fabric at them.

“Listen, we can clean it up! We’ve got-” Fred tried to explain. Angry tears began to fall from your eyes before you stopped him.

“Piss off! The Yule Ball is tomorrow night! How could you get all of that out in a day?” You shouted as you threw the dress at the two boys, not caring about it anymore now that it was all messed up. “Actually, I don’t care, it doesn’t matter, you’ve ruined everything! Are you happy?” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the common room, letting out an embarrassing sob while going to the nearest bathroom on the floor.

You could hear the girls begin to tell them off.

“What is wrong with you!” Katie shrieked at them.

“We never thought it’d be you three walking in! It was a prank meant for Ron!” One of the twins defended.

“It was a shitty one at that!” Angelina barked.

“We never meant to hurt anyone with it!”

“Yeah? Well now you’ve made her cry!” Angelina continued on, while you felt more embarrassed than ever.

You’ve now failed at the one thing you thought you’d never do, you promised yourself you’d never do: Cry in front of Fred and George. Let them see you vulnerable.

You couldn’t believe how you were just beginning to tolerate the twins. Just starting to believe that maybe they weren’t all that bad.

It wasn’t long after you hid in one of the stalls when you heard Angelina and Katie's sympathetic calls for you. Soon you saw the two pairs of feet outside the stall door.

“We know you’re in there. It’s just us. You can come out.” Angelina's voice was gentle, holding the same tone as if she was talking to a scared puppy.

You wanted to respond, you tried to speak but all that came out was a pathetic cry. The disappointed breaths from both of the girls didn’t go unnoticed, you just knew they were frowning at each other pitfully.

“I look like a fool.” You whispered out, voice hoarse.

“It’ll be alright, there’s got to be a spell to get the sludge and stains out of it!” Katie tried to help.

“Do you know it?” You rasped out, you didn’t mean to be so snappy towards them, but you were pissed and embarrassed beyond belief.

“No…but maybe a teacher does! Flitwick basically knows every charm in the book!” You let out an unamused breath at Katies words. Yeah, sure. Flitwick will take time out of his day just to fix some stupid girls dress.

You didn’t say anything, you ripped off some toilet paper from the roll and wiped your cheeks with it. The first bell of the morning rang, which was a five-minute warning until the first class of the day.

Fuck, was it already 9?

“Don't let me hold you up, just tell McGonagall I'm sick if she asks.” You sighed. Katie said your name sadly.

“You can’t stay in there all day.” She tutted.

Yeah? Watch me. You almost wanted to say, but again, they weren’t the ones deserving to be snapped at.

“Just go!” You cried, “I’m not going anywhere looking like this.” Neither of them responded, you held in your cries until you saw their feet walk away and the bathroom door shut.

It wasn’t until the end of lunch when you finally left. It was pathetic, skipping two full classes and most of lunch because you were too busy crying in the bathroom and attempting to scrub the stains off your school robes and hands.

The least you could do was make it to Potions, though you really didn’t want to face the twins after your outburst at them. But, maybe when you walked in there puffy eyed and with tear-stained cheeks they’d feel bad, maybe that could be your silent revenge.

However, when you did enter that classroom. Neither of the boys were there, neither of them showed up all class period. They didn’t show up at dinner either. Which was a relief but also puzzling. They usually never skipped meals unless they were up to something. Were they too ashamed to see you after what they did?

Angelina and Katie already told you in the morning that they both wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner, they’d be busy helping Madam Hooch with something Quidditch related. Maybe that’s what Fred and George were doing too.

You left the Great Hall feeling worse than when you came in. Eating alone was never fun, especially when you were already feeling mopey.

“Oh God I was wondering when I’d see you. Angelina and Katie told me what happened.” Cedric said as he caught up to you as you were walking in an empty hallway.

“Yeah?” You stopped and looked at him, he gave you a sympathetic nod. “Good, now you know I’m gonna take out the twins.” You scoffed.

“What? Take them out on a date or in a deadly way?” Cedric chuckled.

“It’s not funny, Ced. They’ve fucked it all up.” You scowled, crossing your arms.

“There’s got to be something you can do?”

“I haven’t got a date nor a dress anymore. There’s no point of going.”

“Don’t be like that, you can still go.” Cedric sighed as you only shook your head slowly.

“There’s no point.” You dropped your arms to your side and shrugged, “Think I’m just gonna go to bed early. Goodnight Ced.” He frowned and watched as you drug yourself down the hallway.

The Fat Lady gave you a sad look as you muttered the password to her, entering the common room with slouched shoulders and a low gaze. You stayed that way until you entered the girls dormitory.

There was no way of missing the dress that was now laid nicely along your bed. Your steps quickened as you approached it, the dress was cleaned of all stains. You picked it up as if it would crumble into ashes when you touched it, it looked even better from before it was ruined.

There was a small gift box sitting with it, you stared in shock as you popped it open to reveal a necklace laying inside, an aquamarine pendant sparkling off of it. It came with a small note card with the writing nicely written down.

A replacement since the old one broke. We suck, we’re sorry. xx - F & G

tell me what you thought! <3

TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog@five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17 @rhunew @albertdabuttler @weak-aesthetic @whotfskai @m00nymarauder @miaandthediamonds @hpstuff244444 @tarzanathetumblingwarrior @isabellavolere @navs-bhat @honeybee240 @pillowjj

[seriouslysam8]

OKAY. LAST SNIPPET. I SWEAR. I COULDN'T CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT FOR THIS SCENE.

“Oi! Next in line!” someone shouted.

Ron looked to see the man was yelling at him. He shot McGonagall a lopsided smile before gesturing he had to go. He stepped up to the vendor, sitting James down on the counter and keeping his arms around him. 

“Sorry about that,” Ron greeted, looking up at the menu. “I’ll have a kiddie meal with nuggets, chips, and a pumpkin juice. Then, I’ll also have three slices of pepperoni pizza, loaded chips, and… fuck make it another pumpkin juice. I shouldn’t drink a beer while minding a kid, yeah?” he joked but the man didn’t find him funny at all. 

“That’ll be ten Galleons, three Sickles, and two Knuts,” the man said in an unamused tone.

“Merlin fuck, that’s a tad bit expensive, don’t you think?” Ron asked as he dug in his pocket for some money. “Do I get a discount if my sister is Ginny Weasley?”

The man did not look amused.

“Right, guess somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Ron grumbled as he tossed the money on the counter.

James leaned his head against Ron’s chest as they waited for their food to be ready. With a few well-placed sticking charms on the tray of food, Ron carried James on his left hip while he held the featherlight tray in his left. He was never happier to reach the family box where the twins and his parents were already seated. Tilting to the side, he eased James onto his feet so he could walk the rest of the way.

“Uncle George! Uncle Fred!” James called, running towards his family at the front of the box.

George rose from his chair before crouching down so he could catch James in his arms. Rising to his full height, George moved to sit him in an empty seat next to their mum.

“Grandmum! Granddad!” James chirped happily. “Uncle Ron got me nuggets and chips and pizza and pumpkin juice and more chips and more pumpkin juice!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, dear,” his mum cooed as she brushed James’ hair back, failing to make it look even a speck neater.

Ron took a seat next to his nephew, balancing the tray on his lap. James immediately reached for a chip and dunked it into the ketchup before shoving it in his mouth.

“Did you buy the entire bloody box lunch, Ronnie?” Fred asked, reaching over and snagging one of his loaded fries.

“Oi! Ron doesn’t share food!” he exclaimed, moving so his back was to Fred. “You bloody fucking gremlin.”

“Ronald!” his mother huffed.

“What? I don’t!” Ron replied, his head shaking. 

James plucked a piece of pepperoni off Ron’s pizza and popped it into his mouth. Ron sucked in a breath, glaring down at his grinning nephew. He bit down his annoyance because the kid was too damn cute. James was the only one he’d even think about sharing food with.

[starlightiing]

F1 Tag Game! Tag some people you'd like to get to know better!

Tagged by: No one, I'm a force to be reckoned with.

Who is your favorite driver?: George Russell!

Do you have other favorite drivers?: Alex Albon, Pierre Gasly, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc - I like all but 3, really.

Who is your least favorite driver?: Sighs, I don't like admitting to this, but...It's a toss up between three. I'll just name one for now - Alonso.

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?: I pull for both, really!

If you like teams, what team do you pull for?: Ferrari, Williams, Alpine, McLaren.

How long have you been into F1?: I've watched casually (VERY casually) for a few years but I haven't actually FOLLOWED the sport until the start of this season.

What got you into F1?: My fiancé rekindled my love and got me and my entire family into it right after my grandmother passed literally days before the start of the season. He really brought us a lot of light in a time where we needed it most.

Do you enjoy Fanfic/RPF?: I do. RPF is just a fantasy play world, like a dollhouse. Holds no bearing on the real world - as long as you can separate the two, you're good.

How do you view new fans?: No issue. We were all new fans once, weren't we? Some may barge in with wild takes and hell I probably still do, but overall I think they are just looking to find some friends to help them learn the sport a bit better and then will be integral parts of the fandom once they acclimate!

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?: That's such a stressful job and I am not built for stress. It would have to be like, jesus, I can't really pick. I would do no better than anyone up there doing it right now LOL but I guess it would be COOL to pull Williams up from the depths, yeah? Sorry, James.

Are your friends and family into F1 as well?: Yeah! My parents and sister (and BIL) are into it, my grandpa enjoys it, my fiancé, and then a few of my best friends really enjoy it as well!

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?: Always. That's pretty much the only reason I'm here aside from just showcasing my love.

Tagging: @13834 @chilling-seavey @camilleisback @watercolor-hearts @alex-kresnik

@placna @thatsluttylittlesoupcanwaist @alpinegasly @abovecalamity @ohblimeygeorge

@mrgasly @osh-my-prince @oscar-hourglass-piastri @kissingwalls @peachyy-tea

@theluckyalien @faithshouseofchaos @scrappyracers @williams-spare-chassis

@grnherbs @afriques @memoriesofyellow @oscarrrpiastri @georgegraphys

@allphatauri @rubywingsracing @canihavemyhoodieback @landoom

@knut-ut @garykingz @future-oscarwinner @blimeycrikeygeorge @cacklingblobbittyrabbitty

@verstappen1-fan @geochals @ablogtocheck @luna-sibuna-trying @moodymoony71

@ribenab @litany-writes @llenne-siu

@starssfall @petrifying-risotto @its-avalon-08 @spabutterfly @vaniadels

@gnatthefly @1df1fan

I tried to tag everyone I most often see in my notes/in my DMs/in my inbox and who are mutuals <3

[princesssarisa]

Opera on YouTube, Part 2

Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro)

Glyndebourne Festival Opera, 1973 (Knut Skram, Ileana Cotrubas, Kiri Te Kanawa, Benjamin Luxon; conducted by John Pritchard; English subtitles)

Jean-Pierre Ponnelle studio film, 1976 (Hermann Prey, Mirella Freni, Kiri Te Kanawa, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau; conducted by Karl Böhm; English subtitles) – Acts I and II, Acts III and IV

Tokyo National Theatre, 1980 (Hermann Prey, Lucia Popp, Gundula Janowitz, Bernd Weikl; conducted by Karl Böhm; Japanese subtitles)

Théâtre du Châtelet, 1993 (Bryn Terfel, Alison Hagley, Hillevi Martinpelto, Rodney Gilfry; conducted by John Eliot Gardiner; Italian subtitles)

Glyndebourne Festival Opera, 1994 (Gerald Finley, Alison Hagley, Renée Fleming, Andreas Schmidt; conducted by Bernard Haitink; English subtitles)

Zürich Opera House, 1996 (Carlos Chaussón, Isabel Rey, Eva Mei, Rodney Gilfry; conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt; English subtitles)

Berlin State Opera, 2005 (Lauri Vasar, Anna Prohaska, Dorothea Röschmann, Ildebrando d'Arcangelo; conducted by Gustavo Dudamel; French subtitles)

Salzburg Festival, 2006 (Ildebrando d'Arcangelo, Anna Netrebko, Dorothea Röschmann, Bo Skovhus; conducted by Nikolas Harnoncourt; English subtitles) – Acts I and II, Acts III and IV

Teatro all Scala, 2006 (Ildebrando d'Arcangelo, Diana Damrau, Marcella Orasatti Talamanca, Pietro Spagnoli; conducted by Gérard Korsten; English and Italian subtitles)

Salzburg Festival, 2015 (Adam Plachetka, Martina Janková, Anett Fritsch, Luca Pisaroni; conducted by Dan Ettinger; no subtitles)

Tosca

Carmine Gallone studio film, 1956 (Franca Duval dubbed by Maria Caniglia, Franco Corelli, Afro Poli dubbed by Giangiacomo Guelfi; conducted by Oliviero de Fabritiis; no subtitles)

Gianfranco de Bosio film, 1976 (Raina Kabaivanska, Plácido Domingo, Sherrill Milnes; conducted by Bruno Bartoletti; English subtitles)

Metropolitan Opera, 1978 (Shirley Verrett, Luciano Pavarotti, Cornell MacNeil; conducted by James Conlon; no subtitles)

Arena di Verona, 1984 (Eva Marton, Jaume Aragall, Ingvar Wixell; conducted by Daniel Oren; no subtitles)

Teatro Real de Madrid, 2004 (Daniela Dessí, Fabio Armiliato, Ruggero Raimondi; conducted by Maurizio Benini; English subtitles)

Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 2011 (Angela Gheorghiu, Jonas Kaufmann, Bryn Terfel; conducted by Antonio Pappano; English subtitles)

Finnish National Opera, 2018 (Ausrinė Stundytė, Andrea Carè, Tuomas Pursio; conducted by Patrick Fournillier; English subtitles)

Teatro alla Scala 2019 (Anna Netrebko, Francesco Meli, Luca Salsi; conducted by Riccardo Chailly; Hungarian subtitles)

Vienna State Opera, 2019 (Sondra Radvanovsky, Piotr Beczala, Thomas Hampson; conducted by Marco Armiliato; English subtitles)

Ópera de las Palmas, 2024 (Erika Grimaldi, Piotr Beczala, George Gagnidze; conducted by Ramón Tebar; no subtitles)

Don Giovanni

Salzburg Festival, 1954 (Cesare Siepi, Otto Edelmann, Elisabeth Grümmer, Lisa della Casa; conducted by Wilhelm Furtwängler; English subtitles)

Giacomo Vaccari studio film, 1960 (Mario Petri, Sesto Bruscantini, Teresa Stich-Randall, Leyla Gencer; conducted by Francesco Molinari-Pradelli; no subtitles)

Salzburg Festival, 1987 (Samuel Ramey, Ferruccio Furlanetto, Anna Tomowa-Sintow, Julia Varady; conducted by Herbert von Karajan; no subtitles)

Teatro alla Scala, 1987 (Thomas Allen, Claudio Desderi, Edita Gruberova, Ann Murray; conducted by Riccardo Muti; English subtitles)

Peter Sellars studio film, 1990 (Eugene Perry, Herbert Perry, Dominique Labelle, Lorraine Hunt Lieberson; conducted by Craig Smith; English subtitles)

Teatro Comunale di Ferrara, 1997 (Simon Keenlyside, Bryn Terfel, Carmela Remigio, Anna Caterina Antonacci; conducted by Claudio Abbado; no subtitles) – Act I, Act II

Zürich Opera, 2000 (Rodney Gilfry, László Polgár, Isabel Rey, Cecilia Bartoli; conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt; English subtitles)

Festival Aix-en-Provence, 2002 (Peter Mattei, Gilles Cachemaille, Alexandra Deshorties, Mirielle Delunsch; conducted by Daniel Harding; no subtitles)

Teatro Real de Madrid, 2006 (Carlos Álvarez, Lorenzo Regazzo, Maria Bayo, Sonia Ganassi; conducted by Victor Pablo Pérez; English subtitles)

Festival Aix-en-Provence, 2017 (Philippe Sly, Nahuel de Pierro, Eleonora Burratto, Isabel Leonard; conducted by Jérémie Rohrer; English subtitles)

Madama Butterfly

Mario Lanfranchi studio film, 1956 (Anna Moffo, Renato Cioni; conducted by Oliviero de Fabritiis; no subtitles)

Jean-Pierre Ponnelle studio film, 1974 (Mirella Freni, Plácido Domingo; conducted by Herbert von Karajan; English subtitles)

New York City Opera, 1982 (Judith Haddon, Jerry Hadley; conducted by Christopher Keene; English subtitles)

Frédéric Mitterand film, 1995 (Ying Huang, Richard Troxell; conducted by James Conlon; English subtitles)

Arena di Verona, 2004 (Fiorenza Cedolins, Marcello Giordani; conducted by Daniel Oren; Spanish subtitles)

Sferisterio Opera Festival, 2009 (Raffaela Angeletti, Massimiliano Pisapia; conducted by Daniele Callegari; no subtitles)

Vienna State Opera, 2017 (Maria José Siri, Murat Karahan; conducted by Jonathan Darlington; no subtitles)

Wichita Grand Opera, 2017 (Yunnie Park, Kirk Dougherty; conducted by Martin Mazik; English subtitles)

Teatro San Carlo, 2019 (Evgenia Muraveva, Saimir Pirgu; conducted by Gabriele Ferro; no subtitles)

Rennes Opera House, 2022 (Karah Son, Angelo Villari; conducted by Rudolf Piehlmayer; French subtitles)

[girl-next-door-writes]

There You Are: Rashes

Characters: George Weasley x reader

Summary: An incident in a potions class leads to a revelation. Sadly, the person who delivers the bombshell is not about to give him the information he so desperately craves.

Word Count: 1491 words

When you found out who your soulmate was, you were going to kill them. This was not the first time Filch had accused you of something you certainly had no part in, but this was the first time you’d ended up in detention for it. Something about fireworks or firecrackers, it hadn’t been very clear what it was you’d allegedly done, but it was very apparent that it was stupid and dangerous. Great. Your soulmate was stupid and dangerous as well as not attracted to you.

Your stomach grumbled. At least a lunch time detention was shorter than an after school one, and you thanked Merlin for small mercies as you made your way to the Great Hall.

As you began to eat, your eyes scanned the room. Stupid, dangerous, explosions, who could that be? Seamus Finnigan was always blowing things up, Neville Longbottom had his fair share of mishaps, but surely if your soulmate was one of those two then you would have had more burns than this one.

George was rubbing his arm again with a frown. The burn was bothering him but the fact that Filch seemed to have given up the chase rather easily concerned him more. Maybe that old man was coming up with some crafty plan to catch them out, they would have to be more careful for a while.

“Knut for your thoughts.” Angelina smiled brightly as she sat down opposite the twins.

“That’s generous for one of Georgie boy’s thoughts.” Fred grinned, nudging his brother.

“Well, he’d best brush up on his conversation skills because I have a friend who was wondering if George would be going to Hogsmede next weekend.”

“A ‘friend’?” George raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his skepticism. “Lee’s been talking to you, hasn’t he.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know the perfect pairing for you.” Angelina beamed.

“I’ll think about it.” He answered rather grudgingly, knowing that was the best strategy to cut this conversation short. Getting to his feet, he slung his satchel over his shoulder and looked at his brother pointedly. “Potions.”

“You’re really in a rush to get to Snape’s class? Something must be wrong.” Fred rolled his eyes at Angelina as he joined his twin. As they traipsed out of the hall, George’s bag hit a few people still sitting at the table, one of which was you.

“Bloody Weasley.” You growled under your breath. “Think they own the place.”

“They are fit though.” Your friend Annabeth sighed as she watched the twins walk away.

“Fit for nothing.” You huffed, grabbing your things, ready to rush to transfigurations.

George’s mind really was wandering today. As much as he tried to focus on this potion, he kept catching a glimpse of that crescent shaped burn on his forearm and wondering if there was a matching one somewhere in the castle. He didn’t like the thought that something he had done hurt you, but the idea of whoever you were, looking at that mark, and knowing he existed made his heart flutter.

“Mr Weasley.” Snapes voice cut through his thoughts like a hot knife through butter. “Can you add the next ingredient?”

George looked from Snape to his brother and back again, before picking up a vial from the stand and emptying it into the cauldron. Too late he saw the professors eyes widen slightly and the potion began to bubble uncontrollably before blowing up over George. Luckily, he had raised his hands to prevent it going in his face, but the back of his hands and his neck began to itch as the purple liquid clung to his skin.

“CAREFUL!” Bellowed Snape, stepping through the crowd of students and handing George a cloth to wipe himself. “Reckless behaviour has consequences, Mr Weasley. Why on earth you would pour arum maculatum into a potion that already contains traces of aconitum napellus is beyond me. You are lucky you have only given yourself a nasty rash.” He frowned as he studied the blotches blooming across the boys skin. “Class dismissed. I have a healing potion to brew. Weasley, go to Madame Pomfrey then return here to collect the potion.”

George simply nodded sheepishly, not daring to irritate Snape more than he obviously was, in case he decided to slip something in this ‘healing’ potion of his.

Professor McGonagall was in the middle of a serious point when you let out a shriek, your hand raising to your neck as if you had been bitten. She turned to admonish you for your outburst when she spotted the rash on your hands.

“What happened, dear?” She asked as she moved closer, taking care not to touch you.

“I-I don’t know.” Your eyes grew wide as you stared at your hands as the blotches seemed to bloom.

“Get yourself to Madame Pomfrey, she will know what to do.”

The wonderful school nurse had indeed known what to do. She had liberally applied a soothing balm to your skin, which had taken some of the heat out of the rash. She then said that Professor Snape knew of a healing potion for what appeared to be a reaction to monkshood and lords and ladies, a mixture she had not seen in a long time. You had thanked her, pulled your sleeves over your hands, and headed off to find the irritable professor.

“Oi! Watch it!” Fred frowned as you shoulder barged past his brother as they headed into the infirmary.

“Ah, boys, what can I do for you two today?” Madame Pomfrey gave the twins an exasperated smile. Their antics often amused her, but she did worry about their safety.

“Just an incident in potions, no big deal.” Fred gave her his best winning smile and pushed his brother forwards.

“Yeah, erm, I’ve had some sort of reaction. Snape says he’s brewing me something, but I had to come here first.” George shrugged, rolling his sleeves up so she could get a good look at the rash.

Madame Pomfrey blinked slowly, her gaze darting to the door for a fraction of a second. The rash was identical to the one she had just treated, which could only mean…

“Am I expecting someone else to appear needing the same treatment? If so, then I’m going to need more soothing balm.”

“Nah, just me.” George gave her a sad smile before dipping his head.

“Well, I will keep my eye out, just in case.” She said kindly, reaching for the balm on the trolley, realising that the two of you had no idea you were soulmates. “Now, you need to leave this on for eight hours, and Professor Snape will give you a potion to counteract the monkshood and lords and ladies. You’re lucky this didn’t get in your eyes or mouth. I hope you boys will be more careful in future.” It was something she told the twins often, and although they never made the same mistake twice, it didn’t stop them making mistakes.

“Professor?” You knocked on the door as you popped your head into the potions classroom, surprised to see Snape already brewing something.

“Ah, what can I do for you?” His clipped words barely concealed his frustration at being interrupted, and you wondered if this was such a good idea.

“Madame Pomfrey sent me. She says you will know of a healing draft for a reaction to –“

“-arum maculatum and aconitum napellus.” He stated flatly as he took in the rash on your neck with curiosity.

“Yes.” You nodded, cautiously moving further into the classroom.

“This rash, is it on your hands and arms as well as your neck?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Interesting.” His enunciation of the word seemed to make it hang in the air, the only other sound was the bubbling of the potion. After a silence that seemed to stretch out for an eternity, Snape indicated for you to take a seat.

Luckily, the potion he was working on was the exact one you required, and in a matter of minutes he handed you a vial and instructed you to drink half before bed and the other half when you woke. It would take a day or two for the blotches to completely disappear, but they would fade and no longer itch. You thanked him and hurried on your way.

Five minutes passed, and the door to the classroom opened once again.

“Ah, Mr Weasley. You should have informed me that two batches were required.” Snape raised an eyebrow as he held out the vial.

“Two?” George frowned, looking at the singular potion.

“Two. One for you and one for your soulmate. May I suggest that you spare a thought for them the next time you attempt something so idiotic.” Snape swept past the twins, who, for once, were speechless.

“Soulmate?” George whispered, staring at the potion. He had a soulmate, and you were here in the castle! And Snape knew who you were!

[ismartiegirl300-blog]

Things About Dating Fred Weasley

Synopsis: Just some headcanons about dating Fred Weasley (he’s actually my husband guys) 

~Before you were even dating Colin was showing off some photos he took and Fred saw you in one of them. You were just in the background talking animatedly with a friend. He stole the photo and left a few knuts in Colin’s robes. He has it pinned up somewhere in his dorm. 

~He won’t let you walk anywhere alone. You’re going back to your common room? So is he. You got detention and you won’t get out until late? He’s waiting for you outside the classroom with George. You’re feeling sick and want to leave the Quidditch game early? He’s right there giving you a piggy back ride all the way to the hospital wing. 

~He might be more casual in the beginning of the relationship but as soon as he imagines marrying you, he gets so so so serious. He’s exchanging clothes with you. He’s talking about getting promise rings. He’s planning vacations. He’s making sure to get to know your family and forcing you to spend time with his. Once this boy is serious about someone, he’s serious. (Idk why people think he would be a cheater type, he’s so loyal guys) 

~He loves gossip. He loves to hear it and he loves taking your side in everything. Even if you weren’t in the right he’ll side with you. You can do no wrong in his eyes. You’ll spend hours talking with him and George about all the juicy Hogwarts gossip. He won’t spread it outside of your group, he just hates minding his own business. Why do you think they invented those damn ears?

~Besides George, the person who’s approval matters most to him is Ginny. He’s always asking her what she thinks of you. He knows it was hard being the only girl so he wants her to have a good sister in you. When she says you’re cool he just grins like an idiot and agrees. Ginny knows he’s so smitten. 

~He doesn’t even care that everyone knows he’s in love. He tries not to be too sappy in public but he definitely wants everyone to know that he’s yours and you are his. He’s so down to get matching outfits, rings, tattoos, anything really. He always has a hand on you somewhere, thigh, waist, shoulder, or just holding your hand. It’s also a comfort thing. He’s not worried about cheating or other people flirting with you, he’s just so happy with you and he wants everyone to know it. 

[isalisewrites]

SUMMARY:

Being trampled by a raging hippogriff was surely a kinder fate than Newt Scamander’s current predicament.

And he would know, having been kicked by one on more than one occasion.

---

One accident. That was all it took to upend Newt Scamander's life into the unknown. Confused and unsettled, Newt is put into the care of a complete stranger with black hair, bespectacled green eyes, and a lightning bolt scar.

Meanwhile, Harry struggles through his guilt - nothing could make up for his terrible mistake. It’s all my fault. Taking the man in was the least Harry could do, but it hurt so much, knowing that he was the reason for Mr. Scamander’s current predicament.

And Newt being exceptionally handsome isn’t helping either!

---

CHAPTER SEVEN EXCERPT:

“Where is it we’re going?” asked Newt, as they walked towards the public floo network. A couple of years after the war, a line of fireplaces had been built in the center of Diagon Alley for the general public’s usage. Harry dropped three knuts in a small tin on the mantle; another small tin next to it opened to reveal floo powder.

“To the Burrow,” said George with a wink. “I’ll go first.”

George took a handful of floo powder and was off in a burst of green flames. Harry gestured for Newt to go next, wanting to make sure he made it through and wouldn’t be left behind to fend for himself.

There were no other motives. None at all.

“Ah, thank you,” said Newt, nodding with his usual shy air. A gentle smile tugged at the side of his lips. He stepped forward, grabbed a handful of powder, and said, “The Burrow!”

He disappeared in a roar of green flames.

Harry stood there, inhaling an unsteady breath. He rubbed the palms of his hands on his trousers. Going last had nothing to do with being nervous about showing up at the Burrow after his separation with Ginny. It also had nothing to do with his anxiety about sporting this more than obvious crush on their newest guest. Harry swallowed; he rubbed a hand over his face.

Because it’s not like this new crush so soon after separating isn’t a huge fucking betrayal to Ginny and the family.

This growing infatuation for Newt wasn’t wrong, per se, but it was also so very wrong on so many levels and Harry couldn’t help but feel disappointed in himself. I need to pull myself together—it’s just family dinner. I can do this. I can face them. In a self soothing gesture, he ran a hand through his hair and stepped towards the grate. With a handful of floo powder, he shouted his destination and the flames consumed him in a blast of warmth. The floo at the Burrow spat him out and, coated in a thick layer of soot, Harry stumbled out of the fireplace.

“Oh, dear—”

A strong hand grabbed Harry by the upper arm, steadying his balance and preventing him from face planting onto the floor. Harry’s heart leapt into his throat as he glanced up; his face went hot.

“Are you all right there?” asked Newt, brow furrowed in concern. “Did something happen?”

Harry righted himself, chuckling with a sheepish expression and brushing uselessly at the soot on his clothes. He hoped the soot on his face hid the evidence of his intense blush. He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m fine,” he said with a light laugh. “I just never have any luck traveling through the floo. I’ve never managed  to grasp the, uh, the art of it.”

Newt’s chuckle was almost a giggle. “I suppose not, but that’s not the end of the world. May I?” he asked, lifting his wand.

Harry nodded, words caught in his throat. He’s so nice. Dammit.

Newt wordlessly vanished the soot from his clothes and pocketed his wand. He smiled. “That’s better,” he said with the brightness of the morning sun. Harry’s heart fluttered at the sound of his voice.

Well, I’m a lost cause. Just put me out of my misery. There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to hide this.

Fuck.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Can I have some headcanons between Ginny and George please? I really like their sibling bond!

Well sure thing sug! Coming right on up for ya!

Some Ginny and George 🧡 Headcanons!

Since George is considered the more sensitive one of the twins, he held a softer heart. So whenever Ginny needed someone who could emotionally comfort her, she could always count on George.

By Proxy, Ginny was always a spitfire. If, for some reason, Fred couldn’t defend George? You know damn well those bullies got a kick to the shins from her.

George also helped Ginny learn alot about cooking and baking. She had a “not like other girls” phase, as she didn’t want to seem fragile and delicate. But the moment only lasted so long, when your older brothers do the ‘women work’ and enjoy it.

Amongst other good habits, that have saved a lot of stress and anxiety. He tried his best to be a good role model, well….As good as a Weasley Twin could be.

Hey, she doesn’t take shit and knows her worth. So he calls that a win and success in his book.

As the baby sister, she gets pretty spoiled and pampered. Don’t tell Ron, but she’s never had to spend a single knut at the shop. Shhhh.

They have napped together so much. There’s just something so comforting about snuggling for a good snooze.

Especially after the Snake Incident. She had such terrible nightmares, but George helped make them all go away.

Ginny was also one of the few people George could process, after the war. It breaks you down so much when your twin is taken from you, especially a magic twin. But Ginny was one of the few people he could actually register, in his grief.

It was a lot to handle, but Ginny had been more than happy to help him through it. While Ron helped run the shop, she was willing to have George cling to her hip. Understanding his fear of isolation.

Even with how much time has passed, she’s more than happy to floo her way over to the shop. To let him just hold her, until he can find someone to fill that void. It’s painful being alone, and Ginny made her promise to have him know he doesn’t have to be.

[old-hollywood-smash-or-pass]

OP who would YOU smash who are your Hollywood picks?

Ooooh! SOOOO many, dear anon! (Why do you think I started this blog? 😉)

Let me give you a small - well, I say small... - cross-section:

Row 1: Leslie Howard, my forever fave; Jimmy Stewart; as you can probably tell from the profile picture and header of this blog, I have a thing for Gene Kelly; I always say that the ultimate bisexual experience is watching "High Society" and not knowing whether you fancy Grace Kelly or Bing Crosby (that voice!) more, so there they both are; and to finish out the first row we have the gorgeous Jane Russell.

Row 2: Starting off with the dangerously flirty Robert Hardy; following it up with the four great hellraisers Richard Burton; Peter O'Toole; Richard Harris and Oliver Reed; and a woman who's starred with all four, Vanessa Redgrave.

Row 3: Sid James, the man with the filthiest laugh in films; the delicious Ava Gardner; the "Sound of Music" couple that wasn't to be Christopher Plummer and Eleanor Parker; the divine Alain Delon; and another great Frenchman, Serge Gainsbourg.

Row 4: The Swedish row: Harriet Andersson; the brilliant director Ingmar Bergman, this man's understanding of women is truly remarkable; Max von Sydow; Georg Funkquist, one of Sweden's great character actors; Jarl Kulle my beloved; Eva Dahlbeck.

Row 5: The Norwegian row: Anne-Lise Tangstad; Rolf Søder, the man with a laugh that nearly rivals Sid James's; Per Sunderland who has a voice that does things to me; Knut Wigert who is one of the most sensual men I've ever come across; Arne Aas; Ingerid Vardund.

Row 6: Jack Nicholson, he always had it never lost it; Ann-Margret; Robert Redford, I saw him in "The Great Gatsby" when I was 12 and that was it; Alan Bates, we love a bisexual king!; David Hemmings; Anna Quayle.

Thank you for such a fun question!

💖

[faustandfurious]

I do realize the impossibility of creating a "one size fits all" list of "classics everyone must read before they die!" but if you felt like listing a few authors or books you think are basically always left off those lists in favour of some american or english book, i would be interested! i have the same complaint abt anglocentric "classics lists" but to find these books that are neither my own literary culture or English Classics, I am just sending out blind feelers

With the disclaimer that I have seen some of these books on the lists you mention (but infrequently, and often ignored in favour of mediocre Anglo literature), here are a few of my (non-Anglo, but unfortunately still very European skewing) recommendations. To be honest, these are just intended as starting points for dipping your toes in various countries' literary canon.

The Book of Disquiet - Fernando Pessoa

I'm reading this right now and it's so full of sentences I want to serve with tea and biscuits on a Sunday afternoon while watching the snowfall outside, I'm not sure how else to convey the deep sense of contentment I get from reading this.

Kin - Miljenko Jergović

Based-on-true-events family saga about Yugoslavia through the 20th century, and I'm honestly annoyed that Jergović is still relatively unknown in the English speaking world. Personally I think his collection of short stories, Sarajevo Marlboro, is even better, but Kin is more books-to-read-before-you-die material due to its scope and length.

The World of Yesterday - Stefan Zweig

Zweig is fairly consistently left off the lists, even the better ones that actually include German language authors like Goethe and Mann, which is a shame because The World of Yesterday is the memoir of a man who had a front row seat at pretty much all the important events in Europe in the first half of the 20th century. He knew Freud. He knew Rilke. He knew a guy who knew Lenin. He had opinions on everything. In addition to being beautifully written, it's such a good way of learning history through immersion.

Danton's Death - Georg Büchner

Due to personal reasons I really vibe with this. Also a must-read if you're in any way obsessed with the French Revolution.

Journey by Moonlight - Antal Szerb

Really famous in Hungary ever since its publication in 1937, but it wasn't translated into English until after 2000, which explains its relative lack of popularity outside Hungary. If I could scrub every book recommendation list clean of Harry Potter and put this there instead, I would.

Victoria - Knut Hamsun

Look, I've had tough dudes admit to me that they cried on public transport while reading this.

Kristin Lavransdatter - Sigrid Undset

Undset wrote historical fiction about medieval Norway before it was cool, but she rarely or never seems to make it onto the rec lists, which is a shame. To be fair, even in Norway her reputation seems to have suffered a bit from the fact that she converted to Catholicism, which was considered at best a bit unfashionable, at worst outright scandalous, at the time. At any rate, Kristin Lavransdatter is well worth a read.

The Makioka Sisters - Jun'ichiro Tanizaki

I feel like the vibes here are similar to Tolstoy (there's even, funnily enough, a minor character called Vronsky), and it's a very good portrait of Japanese middle class life in the 1930s. An overarching theme in Tanizaki's works is the ongoing conflict between Japanese tradition and the more westernised lifestyle adopted by the younger generation, which has the added benefit of giving a Western readers something familiar to hang on to while reading, so why Tanizaki is left out of those rec lists is honestly beyond my comprehension.

[sappymix1]

george getting a free pick axe and knut and bolt from the tractor supply co guy like of course

[soenchantingly]

toujour pur.

POTTERVERSE FIC - george weasley x daughter of sirius black!reader.

Toujour Pur (french) always pure.

"Always pure, that is the Black Family motto, right? These words will not refer to blood purity anymore. From now on, these words will refer to morality. I am starting a new chapter in the history of the House of Black."

Toujour Pur follows the daughter of Sirius Black as she navigates being a member of the House of Black, having a fugitive father, being an ambitious Hogwarts student who is a bit of a perfectionist, and being completely and utterly in love with her best friend George Weasley. . .

The story takes place from The Goblet of Fire onwards. The reader is in their fifth year at Hogwarts, one year above the Golden Trio and one year below the Weasley Twins.

All the credit goes to their respectful owners!

CHAPTER ONE - A Very Weasley Welcome

Noticing me for the first time since he entered the kitchen, Bill extended his hand to me and I shook it in greeting, “You must be George’s girlfriend. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Bill,”

“Oh, I’m not – ”  I started, my cheek burning.

George was quicker with his words, “She’s not my girlfriend. We are just friends,” he said, his ears hot, a pointed glare fixed towards his oldest brother.

Fred whined, “Why can’t she be my girlfriend?”

I rolled my eyes and George hit his brother in the arm.

CHAPTER TWO -  Thirty-seven Galleons, Fifteen Sickles, and Three Knuts

“You’re going to bed all your savings on a Quidditch game?” I questioned, skepticism apparent in my tone and my eyebrows raised to emphasize my lack of trust in their plan. “What if you lose? You’ll have nothing.”

“Have a little faith, Black,” George replied, his eyes sparkling. “Got to take a risk sometimes in order to get what you want.”

“Besides, George and I are supernaturally lucky.” Fred winked.

At that, I could not resist laughing. “Or supernaturally stupid –“ I teased, my smile growing at the fake offended looks she received from her two best friends, though I could notice that there was a little bit of seriousness in their eyes. “Okay, sorry. You’re right. It’s a risk but if I know you two, it’ll work.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Fred and George sang.

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credit for the pictures goes to lulu.