#angelina's drabbles

[dreamersparacosm]

Ok a concept: imagine austin on your wedding day freaking out because he loves you so much and he knows it’s untraditional to see the bride before the wedding but he NEEDS to see you so he goes in the room while your bridesmaids aren’t there and OOF

forever after all - austin butler

note ; crying. literally crying, anon. this is so cute bc he’s such a nervous person so i can so see this happening

warnings ; none this is pure fluff balls

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s your wedding day and you’re still getting poked and prodded. you have been for the past two years, or so it feels like it. austin wanted a small ceremony, and as did you, but a small ceremony soon turned itself into a 150-person soirée. you told him it didn’t matter how many people, it just mattered that he was there. he had nodded and said, ‘yes, bubs. i don’t care who’s there, i’ll marry you in front of a damn mcdonald’s for all i care.” but deep down, he was freaking out. despite the cool, calm, collected aura he tried to maintain, he was absolutely not that. either way, he wanted to make you happy on your special day.

“is the fit okay for you?” your seamstress asked again, and you smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror. it was stunning, adorned with lace and jewelry fixtures. you felt like a princess, and your bridesmaids made sure you knew it.

“oh, god, it’s beautiful,” you breathed out, clasping your hands together in sheer delight. “i love it, austin is going to love it!”

meanwhile, in the room next to yours, austin was losing his shit. his groomsmen had to tame him down five times. ashley tisdale had to be brought into the room to try and get him to collect himself. no, he wasn’t overcome with doubts. he had never been more sure of something. but, the way he loved you was consuming. the way he loved you made him terrified he could lose you. that fear followed him since the day you two had first met. he had cried the night before, the first night where you weren’t in his arms. he knew it was tradition, but how could he not see you? his heart was aching, and he knew it would only be a few hours until he was embracing you again. but, he knew he would not be calm until he saw you.

damn those traditions.

if he knew better, he wouldn’t leave his room despite the groomsmen’s wishes. if he knew better, which he did, he wouldn’t find himself knocking on your door. but, alas, there he was. you swung the door open at the incessant knocking, rolling your eyes, assuming it was your mother once more. but, it wasn’t. you froze in your tracks to reveal your fiancée (for now), anxiously pacing in front of your door, in a white dress shirt that was half unbuttoned. “baby? what are you doing here? it’s bad luck to see the bride-“

“-before you’re married. i know, i know, i’m so sorry, i just had to see you,” he’s still pacing as he spoke, hands stuffed into his pockets as if he was a toddler. “i’m so nervous, all those people up there are gonna be watching me and all i can think about is how much i love you and i don’t want to lose you, but what if you fall out of love with me-“

“baby! listen to me,” you cupped his cheeks in your hand, forcing him to make eye contact with you. it was the first time in a while that he had been able to look up into your comforting orbs, and he could feel his heart regaining its normal speed. you were his safe space. “i love you, that’s not changing. i’m not leaving you. and, and if you can’t do the speech in front of everyone, do it in front of me. right now. and i promise you won’t be nervous, i won’t even look at you.”

he let out a sigh of relief, placing his hands over your warm arm. the touch was so comforting that he felt as if he had passed away and gone to heaven. “i love you so goddamn much. i-i want everyone to hear the speech, darlin,’ i just had to come here and see you. it reminded me of the way you make me feel. and now i’m gonna spend the rest of my life chasing that feeling with you.”

“i love you too, austin,” you removed your hands from his face. a sarcastic look of anger appeared on your face as you began to jokingly scold him for breaking your wedding traditions, “now get the hell out of here before my mom sees you and drop kicks you to china for seeing me in my dress.”

he giggled to himself, trying to steal as many glances as he could at you before you shut the door in his phase. yeah, he was marrying the right girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

keep your ideas coming here!

[angelicgirly4444]

I’ve had this thought for awhile in the back of my head and I’ve decided to share for everyone else to enjoy.

Setting the scene-Its your first time, Katsuki is maybe a little older, more experienced in the sex department, maybe he’s had 1-2 partners. But nothing compares to you in this moment, you look like a angel lying on your back, teary eyes, gripping his upper arms as he likes the tip up with your throbbing cunt. He nearly comes right there seeing you like this, all for him.

When he finally puts it in, it hurts, more then you thought it would. You gasp, let out a choked moan, Katsuki coos, “its ok baby, its ok.” he wipes the tears rolling down your face and kisses you neck, letting you get used to his size. He eventually starts moving, slow at first, not wanting to hurt you.

But then he feels your hands push at his lower abdomen, and hears you pleading “faster! faster” and so he complies. He watches you fall apart as he fucks you. And oh what a beautiful sight it is. He listens to your moans. and how beautiful they sound, like music to his ears.

[foxdrabbles]

Suzuran meeting Lappland? (prompted by Suzuran's fourth file)

She sits by the window, watching people come and go. It's always busy when they dock at a major city, but it's slowing down now. The only people on the bridge are two Vulpos, arms loaded down with shopping bags.

Something flashes in her memory, (1) and she looks closer. One is tall, with long brown hair and a white jacket. The other is even younger, not more than...10? 11? And has blond hair, tied up in braids, and nine tails. (2)

Nine...tails.... (3)

She begins to laugh, slowly at first, letting it grow until she was cackling, holding her sides, rocking in place.

Oh, Kal'tsit, what game were you playing at? (4)

1) Or that could be just the oripathy at work. Hard to tell.

2) Hey, kinda like that one Higashi dude who married into the Family a few years back. Didn't you get hired to, like, kill his kid (3) at some point?

3) Wait. No. Is that...? She looks about the right age. And they never found a body, did they?

4) A very dangerous one, if she had anything to say about it.

[harrypocter]

Angelina Johnson Masterlist

Moodboard by @somesunlitdays

Angelina Drabble by @turanga4

Grief brings Angelina and George together. 

Love by @alohaemora

A moment capturing love and strength between Angelina and her step-mother.

O Captain! My Captain! by @uncertainwallflower

The moment Angelina gets announced captain of the Quidditch team.

Weekday Afternoon by @lanaturnergetup

Angelina and George decide to get married. In the middle of the week.

The Yule Ball by @merlins-sequined-hotpants

Angelina feels tiny whispers of regret about her date to the ball.

Broken by @merlins-sequined-hotpants

The moment that changes George forever, the moment that haunts Angelina.

A Whole New World by @broomsticks

There is a new pairing for AO3 and it's Angelina/Petunia. The drabble features the pairing doing what they love best.

The Funeral by @maknoll

Angelina's POV of Fred's funeral at the Burrow.

Adventure by @hinnyfied

Angelina's first shopping trip to the Diagon Alley.

Team photo by @ashesandhackles

The Quidditch team takes a photo, end of OOTP timeline.

Treasure by @bluethepineapple

Triwizard Champion Angelina Johnson AU. Angelina has to retrieve what she would miss most.

Angelina drabble by @merlins-sequined-hotpants

Angelina and George get a letter from Hogwarts.

Less than 2 weeks to go until the submission deadline for Festival of Colours! Reach out to the mods if you need an extension for your fic :)

[ashesandhackles]

Goodnight Lee

Written for @harrypocter fest "Winter Sun" Prompt for Week 3: Lee Jordan It's all banter. Really, it's a thing with her.

“Oi Angelina! Go out with me?”

“Ask me on the Quidditch pitch!”

And you play the part with a microphone on the Quidditch pitch, and she scores goals and wins the game.  And that suits both of you.  

“Go to the Yule Ball with me?”

“Yeah, you, me and Fred. Let’s make a dramatic entrance.”

“I don’t fancy dancing with Fred.”

“Shame, he is the better dancer.”

You dance with George in the Yule Ball, and the four of you laugh without a care in the world. A few months later, the world starts to change, but the four of you try to hold onto the invincibility of youth; a time before Fred and George left Hogwarts in a flurry of righteous chaos.

“Oi Captain! The Hogsmeade weekend looks free.”

“Unless your name is Jack Sloper, I wouldn’t be seeing anyone this weekend.”

“Is he that terrible?”

“Appalling.”

And then, one day it isn’t banter. It is losing your best friend in war and your other best friend to the prison of his grief. It is the demanding, never ending emptiness rattling in your ribcage. It is dulling of it with alcohol, and wondering if it is all pointless… It is passing out on Angelina’s couch. It is holding her hand and trying to capture that invincibility of a time you would never get to have again. It is wondering if consuming your friends is the only way you get to keep them.

It is holding her hand and telling her not to leave you, please, and her eyes, gentle and kind, unwrapping her fingers from yours and kissing you on the forehead, saying “Goodnight Lee.”

And then, the next day, you are embarrassed and grateful. “Thank you,” you tell her. "I'm really sorry - it's just- well I'm glad you didn't let that happen."

“Well, at least someone cares about our fucking friendship,” she says, but it is without judgement. She is bantering with you again, but you are too ashamed for a rejoinder.

“Too soon?” she asks, all light and casual.

“Too soon,” you say. 

Her eyes soften. “You know I love you right?”

“I-” you flail, but she wraps her fingers on top of yours. You did not earn the words today, not when you are shit-faced and grieving.

“Get your act together,” she tells you, softly.

“I know,” you say. 

You leave her apartment and breathe. Few years later, at Angelina and George’s wedding, you yell - I love you, to her, to him, to both, and it doesn't matter because she throws her bouquet at your head for your trouble. AO3 here

Some more Lee Jordan in my previous drabble here - Adds a bit of interest

[uncertainwallflower]

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! For @harrypocter Winter Sun Drabble Fest Week 2. Prompt: Angelina Johnson. Words: 318.

The owl arrived as expected. It was a barn owl; it was the last week of July; it was tapping on the kitchen window. The window was opened, the letter delivered, and in a flurry of feathers, the owl was gone. 

Angelina held her breath as she thumbed open the heavy envelope. One page, two. She gasped. Three. 

Dear Miss Johnson, We are pleased to inform you…

She screamed, diving back into the envelope to extract the small silver pin. “Merlin’s beard, Merlin’s beard, MERLIN’S BEARD.”

“What, what, what?” Angelina’s mother called from the kitchen table as Angelina flew out of her chair and thundered up the stairs. 

“I got Quidditch Captain!” her voice was muffled by the walls, but it was understood well enough.

A cheek-aching smile stretched across her face as she scrambled to scratch out two identical letters, one addressed to Oliver Wood, the other to Alicia Spinnet. 

No replies arrived. Rather, with two loud cracks within the space of thirty seconds, the recipients were on the doorstep, hounding the red door with pounding firsts and shouts of, “ANGELINA, IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW WE’RE GOING TO—”

The door was wrenched open, Angelina and Oliver were grinning, Alicia was screaming, “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!”

“Well, try to, at least.” The smile had not left Angelina’s face, and she dragged them both through to the kitchen.

“Mornin’, Mrs Johnson,” Oliver said brightly.

“Good morning, Oliver, Alicia. Heard the happy news then?” 

“Just now.” Alicia nodded, dropping into the chair Angelina had previously occupied and rifling through the envelope to find the letter. “She’s gonna be the best Captain ever.”

“Oi!”

Alicia turned to the burly boy—man—sheepishly, “Not that we won’t miss you, of course, O Captain, my Captain. Fred and George are proper torn up about it.”

Oliver rolled his eyes, and Angelina elbowed his side, laughing. 

AO3

[imyourbratzdoll]

so this was the story I began working on, I had multiple parts written down and planned out except for the beginning of some shows I wanted to add. The person I pictured as the woman was Angelina Jolie and her transforming parts were her in Maleficent.

The wind picked up. Clouds started covering the sky, darkening everything below. Trees began swaying harshly, leaves and branches thrashing against one another. Rain pounds down severely onto the ground below, waves form and hit each other powerfully, lightning strikes, and thunder roars. A figure awakens, rising, vines unravelling, and leaves fall beside them. The figure stands, her eyes finally open, and everything suddenly calms. The clouds move, allowing warmth and brightness, and the waves and trees calm. The rain stopped, and all that was left was a slight breeze welcoming the woman.

Finally opening my eyes from a long sleep, I take in my surroundings. The sight of nature, I'm surrounded by trees, bushes, flowers and plants. My eyes suddenly light up when I realise why I'm awake, and a smile dances upon my lips. It leaves as soon as it arrives when I feel a slight tug. Suddenly I teleport to wherever this person is, with binds connecting my wrist. Furrowing my brows, I look up to discover a coven of witches. The leader smiles, "Well, it seems we have you trapped. Also, don't try to get out of them. They bound you to us, making you under our control." I stay calm before green fire surrounds my arms, breaking the binds. 

I look at my free hands and then at them and chuckle, the witches start chanting, but with a flick of my wrist, their mouths are sealed shut. Wide-eyed, they look at me with terror. The green fire surrounds my whole body this time, I transform.

Putting my hand out, I flick my wrist, pushing them against the wall. My eyes change into a dangerously bright green, letting their mouths unseal. I glare "never try and control me again, do you understand?" my voice terrifyingly low, venom dripping with every word. They nod frantically. Letting them go, I turn and start to walk out. The next thing I know is pain filling my body, I'm thrown against the wall, and the witches start chanting. My screams fill the air. Soon replaced with a growl and followed by a chilling laugh, getting up, I turn towards them, lifting my hand. I hear them struggle to breathe.

"Did you really think you could win? honestly, darlings, why are you fighting against a cause that created you." The green fire escapes me, surrounding them, hearing their screams before they turn to ashes. Walking over to the ashes, I lean down and whisper, knowing they'd hear from purgatory, "you cannot destroy the creator, but I can destroy you." Getting up, I turn and leave. Exiting the building, I look around, "where the hell am I?"

[hinnyfied]

Adventure

For the @harrypocter Winter Sun drabble fest!

Prompt: Angelina Johnson

Each stop Angelina and her mother made added to her bubbling excitement – buying her cauldron, getting fitted for her first set of Hogwarts robes, piling up books full of spells that she, Angelina, would soon be able to do. She burst over the threshold of each shop with a wide grin and giddy heart.

But as she stood in front of the last stop, the most important one, an uncharacteristic note of nervousness nestled its way in next to her excitement. Her mother’s firm yet warm grip on her shoulder gave her the spark of courage that she needed, and the pair entered Ollivander’s.

The shop contrasted the joyful hustle bustle of the streets outside with its dark walls and almost eerie silence. Dust swirled steadily in the slivers of sunlight that streamed in through the front windows.

“Go on, sweetheart.” Mum nudged her gently.

Angelina walked up to the empty desk with as much confidence as she could muster, stood on her tiptoes, and rang the bell. The sound echoed through the shop, bouncing off the endless shelves of wands. She wasn’t sure if it was simply in her head, but they almost felt…alive.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a tall, wispy man appeared, looking at her with an intensity that was both reassuring and intimidating at the same time.

“Ah, Miss Johnson. Are you ready to find your wand?”

Angelina thought back to when Anthony had come home from Diagon Alley with his wand. It had seemed an eternity to wait the last six years to join her brother, to say goodbye to him on the platform year after year and watch him come back with more and more mastery of his magic. How Angelina had yearned for this moment, for the beginning of an adventure all her own.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I’m ready.”

[alohaemora]

Love

A ficlet about Angelina Johnson, the first side character in the Harry Potter series that captured my heart. ❤️ Written for the @harrypocter Discord server’s “Winter Sun” fest.

Read on AO3.

28 August 2025

The backyard of Angelina's childhood home sparkled with sunshine and chatter, delicious scents wafting through the air from the grill manned by George and Freddie. Angelina smiled into her glass of cider as she watched her seventeen-year-old daughter deliver the punchline of a joke that had her little cousins shrieking with laughter. In the dazzling late-summer sunlight, the golden wire in Roxy's braids glittered and gleamed.

"Can't believe she'll be eighteen in three months."

Angelina turned to see that her stepmother had joined her on the verandah. The kitchen door swung shut behind her, and Angelina heard the fond, familiar sounds of her younger sisters squabbling inside.

The years had been kind to Mama. She was as beautiful and regal as ever, her cheekbones sharp, dark hair immaculate. The only indications of her age were the little crinkles near the corners of her eyes.

Two years had passed since Angelina had lost her father and nearly twenty-five more since she'd lost her mother—but because of the fierce, interminable affection of the woman before her, she'd never gone a day without a parent's love.

Angelina swallowed the tightness in her throat, glancing from her stepmother back to her daughter. "Merlin, don't remind me. I feel ancient."

Mama grinned. "How d'you think I feel? Seems like just yesterday you were eighteen, obsessing over Quidditch, hair, and exams—in that order."

Angelina felt her smile melt into something softer as she watched Roxy flip her braids over her shoulder, gesturing animatedly.

"She didn't inherit my insecurities," Angelina told Mama quietly.

A warm, careworn finger stroked Angelina's cheek. "You did good, baby."

Angelina shook her head. "She got her father's confidence."

"And your brave heart." When Angelina met her stepmother's eyes, Mama smiled gently. "She might not have your insecurities, Angie, but she's probably got her own—and thanks to you, she won't be afraid to face them." Mama gazed across the garden at a giggling Roxanne. "Best thing we can do," she whispered. "Raising strong, compassionate, loved women who shoulder a smaller fraction of the generational trauma than we did."

A knot of warm, complicated emotion twisted in Angelina's heart. Tears stung her eyes, the heavy, meaningful silence enveloping her like a blanket.

It was broken moments later by a CRASH from behind the kitchen door, followed by the sound of splintering glass, loud squealing, and Jamaya's distinct, vociferous swearing.

Angelina blinked back her tears, smirking at the exasperated look on Mama's face.

"My fault for thinking those two could get anything done together," Mama muttered, drawing her wand. "Come on, Angie—or we'll be eating barbecue with no sides."

Chuckling, Angelina rose to her feet. As she followed her stepmother down the verandah, a ray of sunshine caught Mama's face. The years had been kind to Mama. Beautiful and regal as ever, cheekbones sharp, hair immaculate.

The only indications of her age were the little crinkles near the corners of her eyes—but in the dazzling late-summer sunlight, her dark skin shone with generations of love.

[dreamersparacosm]

we NEED a drunk Austin blurb PLEASE the fans are dying😫😫😫

you’re cut off, mister - austin butler

note ; no because i have been WAITING for someone to bring this up like i truly live and breathe for this man and i know he would be the cutest angel when he’s drunk like drunk in love with YOU

warnings ; intoxication, suggestive language, cursing

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

whoever invited the two of you to a champagne and shackles party made a grave mistake. one bottle of champagne and a pair of handcuffs. oh, and you in a tight black dress. really, who invented this idea? austin couldn’t decide if he loved it or hated it. loved it because he was drunk off his ass and handcuffed to the love of his life, or hated it because he was drunk off his ass and only had one hand to feel you up with.

you were a bit more of a heavyweight than he was, surprisingly enough. you went to college, and had years of drinking experience under your belt. being an actor didn’t allow for him to get belligerent. so, when one of your old college friends invited you to a small party at her house, you couldn’t say no. sure, you were pushing 30, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy a nice night with friends. or, well, that’s what it was supposed to be.

instead, it turned into you and austin giggling every five seconds, and his hands trying to grab at you every chance he got. you were tipsy (or maybe you were lying) but he was definitely feeling himself. he was following you around like a lost puppy, smiling cheekily as you introduced him to everybody there. you loved every second of it. he was your little trophy, the hollywood actor you happened to meet when you were doing pr for his new film. at least your college degree got you something good. either way, his hand was now firmly placed on your thigh, unable to remove itself. he was paralyzed. ‘by the alcohol,’ he claimed. thankfully, your friends were too drunk to notice. two more sips of that damn bottle and he could finally uncuff himself. he was going to have his way with you.

“baby, drink faster,” he whined, his eyes glassy as he turned to look at you. you rolled your eyes, moving his hand off your thigh.

“i’m trying! this is expensive alcohol, it’s not that easy to drink,” you retorted. “i would say you should give me a helping hand, but you’re in no condition to.”

“at this point, i could probably chug faster than you,” he fought back, shifting his leg to try and hide the boner that was begging to be freed from the confines of his boxers. your black dress wasn’t even that revealing; your curves, the small slit on your right leg, and the slight view of cleavage made it unbearable.

you snorted in response, “first of all, no you can’t. second of all, please put your dick away. like we’re gonna have sex, i promise, but i just need you to relax.”

“relax? you want me to relax? you left the house looking like this and you want me to stay calm? half the guys here turned around to check you out when we walked by, and they’re handcuffed to their girlfriends,” he had a point. even your guy friends were busy checking out your body. however, austin loved knowing that you were his, and he was taking you home. despite it all, you were his little trophy.

you laughed at his anxiety, holding eye contact as you took one last swig from the bottle. shaking it to show that it was empty, you then threw it on the grass. austin seemed to sigh in relief. “get these off of me, right now.”

“okay, okay, calm down, babe,” you pulled the key out of your purse, giggles escaping you. that last sip really did you in. you could tell as you struggled to fit the key into the lock, austin’s breathing intensifying as he incoherently begged. finally, it clicked, and you two were released.

“uh, uh, not so fast,” he spoke as he noticed you stepping away from him. his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you in for a chaste kiss that tasted like champagne. “first, you’re getting me another drink. second, we’re going inside and finding the first empty room we see. third, i’m bending you over and fucking you in this little black dress.”

a blush creeped up on your face, looking around in hopes that none of your friends heard the obscenity that just exited his mouth. “you’re cut off, mister. but i’ll take you up on that last part.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

keep your ideas coming here!

[turanga4]

Angelina Drabble Time

Kickin' off week two of @harrypocter's Winter Sun Drabble Fest with 100 words about grief and moving on.

Angelina came to see George differently in the months after the War. They reached hands towards each other through the space of Fred’s absence, feet tied by different memories with the same rope of grief. 

It might be too soon. It might be in bad taste. 

They worried. They talked.

When George finally went to kiss her, something tickled her nose and she sneezed on his lips.

Somewhere in her mind, Fred laughed at both of them, full and without bitterness, the way he always had.

Like a blessing, like a pep talk.

Like they could laugh like that again.

[nellycanwrite]

Resort drama! Angelina likes the attention from her admirers but she's always with four guys XD they look like her bodyguards

YES. THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING THE WHOLE TIME. ANGELINA GOT THREE TALL DUDES PLUS A CINNAMON BUN WHO WILL AND CAN END YOUR CAREER WITH JUST ONE TIME LEAP AS BODYGUARDS. NOT TO MENTION HOW JAVIER AND IGNACIO ARE SUPER PROTECTIVE OF THEIR SISTER.

---

"Hiya cutie, what do you say about ditching this place and going somewhere fun?" A guy asked Angelina while slinging his arm over her shoulder. Angelina grimaced; he wasn't her type at all. Unconventionally boring, bland pick-up lines, too flirty, and he had the most ridiculous fake Rolex she had the displeasure of seeing.

Definitely not Angi’s type.

She tried to shrug off this guy’s arm around her shoulder and gave him a roll of her eyes. “Get lost. You’re literally killing the vibe.”

“Oh come on, pretties like you should be having fun with guys like me,” he pointed to himself with a smug grin. Angelina had to force herself not to gag at his foul breath—he wasn’t drunk nor had he consumed any alcohol. He just had a lack of dental hygiene. Angelina made a face while the guy continued, “whatcha say, hm? Ready to party with me?”

“She said no, baboso.”

Suddenly, a strong, invisible force yanked the guy’s shirt collar and threw him into a heap on the ground. It was quite a strong landing despite the sand that cushioned his fall, but that was what you get when you would come across Javier’s ire—and his sister.

Ignacio rushed forth and hissed at the guy with his fist tightly clenched around the front of his shirt. His eyes were ablaze and his mouth was seething with smoke and a few licks of flames. Standing by Angelina’s side was Aureliano, his hair standing up in a blaze as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Diego was by his side, although not as terrifying as the darkening looks on the other boy’s faces, he certainly had colorful ways running through his head to make this guy’s life a living hell.

Oh sweet, sweet Diego. God knows what was going through his pretty little head. Auri wasn’t too keen on knowing.

Javier stood by the side, all poised and proper, as if he hadn’t slammed a dude with his gift a few seconds prior. He pushed his glasses up and used his gift to float his clipboard to his side. A pen immediately followed and wrote something on the paper, but his eyes were still fixated on the man in Ignacio’s grip. His eyes were dark. Calculating.

“Harassing a member of the public, disrespecting women, unconsented physical touch—I might seriously throw someone off a cliff, but that’s just me,” Javier drawled out. The paper by his side ripped upon his command and floated it towards the guy, “if I may rudely request you to get out of our property, that would be swell.”

“Would you guys hurry up?” Angelina whined as she checked her phone, “that guy’s not worth our time. And he’s seriously not my type. Can we just go before we miss the tour?”

Ignacio threw the guy on the sand and stood by Angelina with a grumble. Auri and Diego used themselves as a shield to cover Angelina from his view while Javier sighed and flicked his wrist once to escort the man with his powers out the gate.

And the other guests watched as Angelina prattled excitedly about the long awaited tour from Senora Reme. It was as if they didn’t just scare a guy shitless and left him shivering near the gate from fear.

No one messes with Angelina.

[lunamadrigal]

I haven’t written anything in ages and I fear if I don’t start again the well will completely dry up so I’m going to ramble off a drabble that has literally no tie to anything and is just for giggles. Based on some summer au banter between three weirdos /pos 💕

--------------

🌊 🌴 🥥 ⛱️

Road Trip (part one?)

“Phone? Charger?? Oh! Did you pack sunscreen?!” 

The insides of my hand-me-down faded, what was once mint green, duffle bag jingled about as a pair of frantic hands dug through the contents. It took me a solid hour to arrange everything neatly inside, rolling clothes carefully and tucking everything in its rightful place which was now a complete minefield.

“Má please. Are you serious right now?!” I clenched my teeth in an attempt to reign in the attitude that I felt bubbling up.

She knows how I feel about this. Everything in its place. Order. Perfect order.

“Do you really think Diego didn’t double and then triple check his list before packing?” Auri’s tone sassed out from behind his smirk where he watched in complete amusement as my má tested the level of my patience.

Just breathe. It’s cool. You can fix it later.

“Very funny, hothead.” I tossed my last buñuelo in Auri’s direction and watched as the sugary ball kissed his cheek at full force and bounced to the floor.

“Jerkface.” His smirk grew two inches as he wiped at the grainy bits covering the side of his face.

“SUNSCREEN!?” A high pitched motherly call broke us out of our teasing.

“Luna, will I actually need sunscreen?? Come on. I don’t think so. And besides –” Auri pushed himself off the kitchen counter he was leaning against, pointing one defiant finger at the side pouch of my duffle bag. The bright yellow bottle stuck out like a sore thumb, silencing my má immediately.

Before she had a chance to find another thing to worry over, two loud honks echoed from outside. Followed by one more generously long honk. Three. Three is lucky. I breathed a sigh of relief at the thought.

My má’s lips pursed together tightly, with her eyes scanning around for something else to say, likely already holding back some tears. “We’ll be fine mami. I’ll text you when we get there. Promise.” I held my pinky out to her, wiggling it in the air.

“And you’ll send me photos.” She interlocked her pinky with mine, giving it a squeeze. “And — and —”

A gust of wind interrupted her, blowing a lock of her wavy hair into her face as Auri opened the front door, bags in hand, giving me a fierce eyeroll from the door. He had repeatedly said last night that ‘Luna will be a hot mess when we leave’ and he bet she wouldn’t hold off on the waterworks before we made it out the house. He wasn’t wrong but I was never going to admit that to him.

“GET IN LOSERS!” Ignacio’s famous baritone voice boomed from the cherry red VW bus. Its recent fresh coat of paint reflected the bright summer rays brilliantly back at us, matching the fiery grin he wore as he hung out the open passenger window.

“WE RIDE AT DAWN BOYS!” He added with both fists raised in the air, rocking the bus like a gentle ocean wave.

“It’s NOON! FOOL!” I chuckled watching Javier slink down into his seat in the back of the bus as he was correcting him, regardless of the obvious quote Nacio had been making. 

“Oh whatever bro, chill. You gonna be like this the whole ride to the resort?” It wasn’t much of a question the way Ignacio snapped back at Javi.

Sliding the side door open and tossing our bags into the very end of the bus I crawled in, giving Auri a tug before falling the rest of the way inside. The bus was crammed full of every item imaginable, giving The Little Mermaid and her whosits and whatsits a run for her money.

“Are those flippers?” Auri whispered into my ear, pressed up against my arm tightly. Our two bodies packed like sardines. “And a uh—-”

“Metal detector?” I finished, staring at the odd long object poking through the pile of bags. Undoubtedly one of Javi’s necessities. 

“See…”, nudging his side gently, “... you can never be too prepared.”

Auri’s eyelashes grazed his lids, rolling his eyes so far back I’m sure he saw the inside of his head as he did it. “Course you would say that.” He leaned in and brushed his nose over mine ever so faintly but sending his cheeks a shade usually reserved for his firefly amber flames.

“None of that cute crap on summer vacation my dudes! This ain’t your honeymoon.”

Both of our faces burned ten times brighter hearing Ignacio’s tease. He was musing over his own joke, arms crossed over the passengerside’s headrest as he ducked to fit between the small space.

Two hotheads in one pintsized bus for five hours… What could go wrong? I smiled to myself looking back from Nacio to Auri. Their eyes narrowed on each other in what would surely turn into a heated battle of snarky remarks if someone doesn’t intervene.

“Tunes?” The voice of an angel perked up from the driver’s seat, long dark hair cascading over her shoulder, sporting the most retro pink pair of sunglasses I’d ever seen.

Praise the sweet angelic God’s for Angelina. Her soft kind eyes met mine, thanking her silently.

“Tunes.” I repeated cheerfully, happy for the distraction.

“TUNESSSSSSSS!” Four ecstatic voices harmonized together inside our red shoebox of a bus.

Only one person’s voice was missing among our crews and all eye’s fell on the sour face, poking his golden glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“God. I don’t know these people.” Javi huffed at us with a tiny smile creeping at the corners of his lips.

My smile felt unstoppable as the thought sparked in my mind.

‘Journal, Day 1 Summer Vaca

This is gonna be epic.’

Art found here

Angelina, Javier & Ignacio belong to @cheesy-cryptid & @artsynellyyy

Aureliano belongs to @daliceus

Diego is my oc bebé

Angelina's summer mixtape

[ashesandhackles]

Team photo

Written for @harrypocter winter sun fest Week 2 prompt: Angelina Johnson Note: premise heavily inspired by tell me how the crowds went wild

The team photo was a disaster. It was always a disaster - ever since the twins had been part of the team.

But this was not a disaster of chaotic merriment - of photos developed over their camaraderie. It was a quiet devastation of the rubble of a castle foundation. Ron’s arms had ribbon-like twisting scars on them and he looked preoccupied, Ginny’s ankle was still unstable - held by an ankle support and she sat grim-faced, Jack Sloper had managed hit himself with the Beater’s bat even with both feet on the ground, and Andrew Kirke fell face first over the water bottles kept near the bench. As Kirke joined them, a handkerchief over his face to staunch the bleeding, she exchanged grim looks with Alicia.

“It will be over soon,” Alicia murmured, patting her arm.

It will all be over, Angelina thought with a wistful ache. Her final year at Hogwarts, her only shot at being a Captain, marred by dismal practices and matches they won and lost by scrapes of their teeth. She accomplished nothing. She had nothing to show for herself except for leading an inconsistent team to victory. “Let’s get this over with,” she sighed.

Just as Katie was setting the camera, Harry walked into the pitch, looking not quite sure why he was there. Ron and Ginny’s face immediately lit up at the sight of him, and Angelina felt a pang.

“Just here to watch,” Harry told her, his eyes a bit far away and haunted. Angelina couldn't help but hate herself for thinking about her captaincy when Ron and Ginny were clearly preoccupied by whatever it was they went through at the Ministry. Whatever it was that Harry went through.

She moved forward to shake his hand. “Thanks for coming.”

Harry’s green eyes flicked to Ron behind her, and then rested on her face. “Thank you. For not giving up on him,” he said quietly. “His performance in the final…well, it wouldn’t have been possible without your confidence in him.”

His words brought giddy memories of Ron smiling in the final game, as he saved goal after goal, rewarding her faith in him by a thousand-fold.

“It was a hard year for him,” Angelina said quietly. “I’m glad he pulled through.”

“It was,” he agreed. Harry put his hands back in his pockets. “I wish I could have played more matches with you.”

“Bullshit. I drove you mental,” Angelina grinned.

“No more than Oliver,” Harry said lightly.

He smiled vaguely at her and started walking to the stands, and Angelina fell back to the team, feeling like something heavy had been dispelled from chest. AO3 here

[onelittlesparkx]

drabble to freddie from angelina

011, the last train compartment that's not full.

Not all the parents went all th eway into the train on the first day, hell, she recalled shooing hers away on more than one occassion. Insistant that she were grown enough to board on her own. Part of that was true but the other part came from normal parent/child embrassment. Not Freddie though, she didn't seem to mind that Angelin had gone all the way to her compartment (the last one as it so happened) to make sure her boarding was as seamless as possible.

"Right, Owl's all tucked away with the rest of them." She found herself saying as she mentally crossed that off her list. "I know you said you had everything but..." she pulled the luggage into the storage. "I packed an extra pair of trainers to go with that skirt." Dark optics look over her daughter with a mixutre of adoration and rebuke. She let out a soft sigh and took Freddie's hands into her own. "Which, I know your making a statement..." She kissed her forehead. "But it's entirely too short." The previous year starting her transition had been a challenege for Freddie but she was finally feeling comfortable enough in her body to dress the way she wanted.

Angelina watched her pull the waist line back down. "At least wait until I'm off the train," she suggested as she felt the flutter of teenage memory come back for a visit. Wrappnig her arms around her, Angelina tried to commit the hug to memory, knowing it would be the last time she would see her child for a bit. "I want you to reach out to your sister when you need to okay? or if you're more comfortable one of your cousins." The pair parted. "You're a Weasley," Angelina reached for one of the curls hanging over Freddie's face and pushed it lightly away. "That means you don't have to do anything alone." Freddie nodded in agreement and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"I'm going to find your sister, and then I''ll be off." As she turned she could see her nephew Hugo and his friends approaching the end compartment. That was the best thing about being a Weasley; that you didn't have to do anything alone. She turned to blow one final kiss goodbye and continued on as she promised. By the time she had boarded off the train she moved into George's side and wrapped her arms around him.

"Did you tell her about the skirt?" He asked almost pleading. Angelina let a small laugh out over her lips. "I did, I also mentioned that if I had to make you wear it in order to scar her I would." George sighed, "I have great legs for that, thank you ver much." Angelina felt him press his lips on her head before they both looked longing at the departming train to Hogwarts.

[luveline]

jadeee!! how are you?? I was rereading everything asf universe and I thought, as a belated weasley twin bd treat, perhaps a drabble of r and Fred at Angelina and George’s wedding and Fred realised how much he wants that for him and r?? i wanna see them get hitched soo bad!

that whole universe is sooo special to me, endless thank yous to you and your amazing brain for writing it❤️

I love you!! It’s so special to me too!!!! And I’m so grateful to you for reading!!!!! fem, 1.2k

cw mental health issues

Fred gets you in his lap, but it takes all day, and only after the speeches. 

“You were very brave,” he says. 

“Don’t patronise me.” 

“I’m not,” he says, his arms folded around you, your side to his front so as to keep his gaze on your face. You’ve genuinely never looked so beautiful, not ever. It’s the most gorgeous dress you’ve ever worn, and you’ve smiled all day. He can’t believe it. 

“Was it an okay speech?” 

Fred finds your hand to hold. 

I didn’t know what it was like to have a friend before I met George and Fred, you’d said, staring hard at Molly rather than the crowd, your nerves apparent in every word. I’ve never known someone to love as hard or as generously as he does. I… wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. And so it makes me so happy to see him loved like that in return. I know he’ll be a good husband, because he is a great friend, and I think that’s half the battle, and– and he tries so hard. I wish you both a happy marriage and… a great honeymoon. 

George didn’t beg you to say something, but he’d begged Fred to convince you, and everyone could see how much it meant to him that you’d managed to do it in front of so many people. George had no trouble proclaiming that you were his best friend in the entire world and that he would kill anybody who ever crossed you, including his twin, if it were to come to that. 

It will never come to that. Fred will never break your heart. 

“I didn’t know you were going to say that much,” Fred says. 

“Too much?” you ask, looking down at his chest. 

“No, sweetheart, no. It was lovely. I just knew it was gonna be hard for you.” 

“You talked for half an hour,” you say. 

It’s an exaggeration, but not by much. “I had to embarrass him fully. That’s what getting married is for.” 

You press your cheek to his shoulder. The lights in the hall are low, your seats at the main table shaded from the lights and the music. George and Angelina’s family mingle, dance, and sing quite drunkenly. It’s very normal, but you’ve had a long day. Fred’s not sure you’re up for dancing. He doesn’t mind. 

“It was a lovely speech,” Fred affirms. He’d murmur if he weren’t worried you’d miss it with all the noise. “He knows public speaking isn’t for you, and it was probably a better gift for him than the DFS voucher.” 

“Better than a new sofa?” you ask. “You’re joking.” 

He laughs at your joking and presses a heap of kiss all over the side and top of your face. You melt under his touching, slouching into him, the curl of your smile palpable on his shoulder. He can feel it.  “My mum’s coming. She’s trying to be subtle. Shall I send her away?” 

“I like your mum,” you say. 

She’s in a dress with huge draped sleeves, her hair piled away from her face, her lips a pale pink to suit her red hair. When she talks, Fred can see the happy tear tracks that mark her powder. “Hello, you two.” 

You sit up to a slightly more respectable position, but it isn’t as though she hasn’t seen you and Fred touching. “Hi.” 

“Hi, mum.”

“How are you both? There’s more champagne around the side, dearie, your father can get you another bottle if you like.” She beams at you both. “You look exhausted.” 

“It’s a long day, mum,” Fred says, mildly apologetic. 

“I know. Imagine how much worse it is when it’s your own.” She brushes a strand of hair from Fred’s face. “Well, alright, I’ll go bother someone else.” 

“You’re not bothering us,” you say quickly. 

“I know, sweetheart.” She gives you a motherly shoulder squeeze. “I just wanted to make sure you were both okay. I’ll make sure they play a few slow songs for you to dance to. I need good photos for my wall.” 

Fred laughs against the back of your head. “Thanks, mum.” 

She leaves you quickly, attention snatched by Percy where he’s calling for her to come and dance, and leaves Fred in particular with an idea he’s been trying and failing to ignore all day. He knows it’s cliche, but his brother's wedding has made him think of his own, and how it will go and when it will be. If he asked you to marry him, would you say yes? 

“You really do look so pretty,” he says. 

“You’ve told me a couple of times,” you say shyly. 

“I can’t believe it. I’m coming to terms with it.” 

“Do you think we’ll get married?” you ask. 

“Of course I do,” he says immediately, startled, and wondering for the thousandth time if you can really read his mind. “I suppose you’ll have to let me ask you first, but of course I do.” 

You nod distractedly. It’s not the reaction he’d hoped for. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks. 

Loving you is learning when to manage a crisis. Not that you’re always in crisis, but it’s an essential skill he’s obtained nonetheless. He waits for you to answer his question patiently, his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up gently to his eye level. 

“Do you remember the first Christmas I came to stay with you?” you ask. “Before we were together.” 

“I remember.” 

“I told you that I didn’t think anyone would ever marry me. That I’m not that… sort of person.”

Fred shifts his legs under your weight. You aren’t heavy, the chairs are uncomfortable, and he plans to have you here for hours upon hours if he can swing it. “Yeah.” 

“But you said you’d prove me wrong. We hadn’t even kissed.” 

“And you still didn’t think I had a crush on you,” he teases. 

You gather your arms to wrap behind his head, sitting taller, cwtching his face to your neck. “I know it doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Ghost, I know everything about you. It makes total sense to me, believe it or not. And I will prove you wrong, I promise. If that’s what you want– it’s what I want, I just haven’t figured out how to ask you yet. Can you give me a little more time?” 

You suck in a strange breath. He’d like to say it was delighted, but it’s better labelled as shocked. “Okay.” 

“Thank you. We’ll have much better music.” 

You turn your heads to the dance floor, where Arthur has unearthed those extra bottles of champagne Molly promised, and the Weasley troupe are dancing like an especially ginger entourage of fools to something abrasive by the Weird Sisters. 

“Should we go dance?” you ask. 

“In a minute. After my dads discovered that champagne isn’t regular champagne, I think.” 

You shed the panic you’d been fostering to kiss his warm cheek. “Idiot, what did you do?” 

“It’s his wedding, Ghost, what did you expect?” 

You kiss his cheek again. A third time and he’s blushing. “Love you, Fred. Do you think George will forgive me for bending the truth?” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“‘Cos I was lying, you know, when I said he’s the most loving person I’ve ever met. That’s you.” 

Ugh, he thinks, dipping you backwards for a kiss. What a girl.