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wzrd-wheezes · 4 years

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Merlin Only Knows - George Weasley x Reader

A/N: hiiiiii I’m back with a sad Georgie fic, so read at your own risk! This is inspired by both the song God Only Knows by the Beach Boys and a breakup I went through a while ago haha

1.5k words

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Taglist: (dm me if you want adding) @amourtentiaa @fredweasleypls

If you should ever leave me Though life would still go on, believe me The world could show nothing to me So what good would living do me God only knows what I'd be without you

George and his girlfriend had spent a lazy afternoon snuggled up in the Three Broomsticks, sipping butterbeer by the fire. They didn’t often get to come on dates without either Fred or Lee intruding. It was getting late in the day now and the sun was slowly setting behind the buildings of Hogsmeade. It was when the moon started to peek out that they decided that it was time to head back to the castle.

I may not always love you

But long as there are stars above you

You never need to doubt it

I'll make you so sure about it

God only knows what I'd be without you

They walked down the streets hand in hand. George occasionally stopping to point out a star or constellation to Y/N and tell her about. The moon shone down on her as she looked up at him and he couldn’t help smiling. He finally felt content, he sometimes couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have a girlfriend that he was so happy with. And that was when it slipped out:

“Merlin only knows what I’d be without you, Y/N.”

He wasn’t sure how she was going to react. But he expected something. Anything. He could’ve sworn that a quick smile flashed across her lips. Her brows we furrowed now, almost as if she was trying to stop herself crying. She could have told him she loved him, squeezed his hand, done anything to give him some sort of indication that she cared about him. But she didn’t. She just carried on walking. She didn’t say much when they got back to the castle either, just a hug and a goodnight. No kiss. Nothing.

As much as he hated to admit it. George was an overthinker. He tried to stop himself doing it by distracting himself and pushing all of the negative thoughts out of his mind. All it would take was a slight change in tone when someone spoke to him or a falter with someone’s smile and his brain would start whirring. He often played it off while a smile or a sarcastic comment but that didn’t stop him overthinking when he was alone. Although he and Fred were close, George didn’t often open up about his emotions to his twin. He hated the thought of people worrying about him and besides, he was probably just being daft anyway. However, he couldn’t get the image out of his mind of her furrowed brows and lack of reaction.

It had been a few days and things were still awkward to say the least. It felt to George like Y/N was avoiding him, whenever he tried to speak to her it was like she had somewhere else to be. He didn’t know what to do about it.

“Someone’s a bit frosty this morning,” Fred said, jerking his head in the direction of Y/N who had left the table as soon as she had finished her last bite of toast.

“Tell me about it,” George muttered.

“Upset her, have you?”

“Not at all. If anything I’d say that I’ve been particularly pleasant recently,” George answered, staring at his plate, “We went on a date at the weekend and it was fine all day until we started walking back. I just sort of told her how much she meant to me and it was like she just switched off.” Fred and Lee exchanged quick glances.

“I don’t know,” Lee said, “Seems like something is up with her to me, mate. Have you tried speaking to her about it?”

“I can’t. Every time I try and speak to her, she says that she’s busy or that she has to go somewhere.” He could feel tears stinging in his eyes but he was determined not to cry in front of Fred and Lee.

It was on his way back from Quidditch practice while he was telling Fred about how she had ignored him for the session that Y/N caught up with him.

“George,” she sped up to walk in step with him, “Can I talk to you for a minute please?”

“Oh no,” Fred whispered. George shot him a dirty look and nodded at her. His heart was racing in his chest, he had no idea what she wanted with him. He felt angry, she had barely spoken to him for days, so what was so important that she needed to speak to him about now?

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked.

“Yeah, that would be good actually,”

They walked together for a few minutes, both silent. George kept glancing at her quickly, but her gaze was fixed firmly on the ground.

“I’m sorry, George,” she mumbled, a few moments later.

“What do you mean?”

“For this week,” she said, “I feel like I’ve been off with you.” He remained silent and they carried on walking.

“I just- I can’t do this anymore,” she continued. He stopped dead in his tracks.

“Can’t do what anymore?”

“Us. It just doesn’t feel right. Things seem different and I don’t know what it is.”

“So you want to break up? Is that it?” he said, the words coming out of his mouth harsher than he intended.

“I think I do, yeah,” She stammered a bit, turning to look at him. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. He could feel his heart sinking in his chest.

“I don’t understand. Is it because of what I said the other day?” he questioned.

“Not entirely. But when you said you didn’t know what you would do without me, it scared me. We’re only young, George. I don’t want to be with you if I’m not entirely sure, because that would be unfair on you,”

“Oh yeah, because that would be unfair. But ignoring me all week, making me worry about what was going on, that was completely fine, was it?” He strained to stop the tears falling.

“Please, don’t be like that. I just tried to do what was best. I didn’t want to make you upset.”

“You could have spoken to me about it,” his voice was softer now, laced with hurt, “We could have fixed it,”

“I tried, George, I really, really did.”

She left pretty much straight after, leaving George to wander round the grounds, trying to clear his head. He felt angry at himself for being angry with her. It wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t help how she was feeling. He just wished that she had spoken to him about it sooner. It was dark by the time he got back to Common Room. Fred was sitting in front of the fire with Lee playing a game of exploding snap.

“Well?” Fred prompted, as George walked over to join them.

“We broke up.”

“What?” Lee sounded astonished.

“Technically, she broke up with me.” He threw himself down in one of the armchairs, “I really don’t want to speak about it.”

If you should ever leave me Though life would still go on, believe me The world could show nothing to me So what good would living do me God only knows what I'd be without you

And he didn’t. Weeks went by and George hadn’t mentioned Y/N at all. Fred and Lee had no idea what happened that night that she asked to speak to him, apart for the fact that they were no longer together. If you were to look at the pair of them now, you would have thought that they were strangers. Not previous best friends and lovers. George still felt hurt, bitter even, every time he saw her. He saw her grow closer with another boy. Their friendship slowly turning into a relationship, just as their relationship had. He felt like life was just happening around him, like he had no real purpose anymore. Weeks went by and he couldn’t tell you a single thing that happened. It was all a blur. The only things that stuck in his mind was how happy Y/N looked now. He saw the way how she looked at her new boyfriend, he hadn’t bothered to learn his name. How she was sit close to him at breakfast, leaning her head against his shoulder as she ate. He saw him in the stands at the Quidditch matches, cheering her on as she played. He couldn’t get these pictures to shift out of his mind.

He didn’t spend much time in the Common Room anymore. He told himself that it was because he preferred his own company anyway, but deep down he knew that it was because if he were to see Y/N he would get upset. Even hearing her voice across the classroom or hearing her yell across the Quidditch pitch was enough to get his stomach to flip uncomfortably. He would often wander up to the Astronomy Tower at night, sit at the edge, letting his legs dangle over a little bit. He went up there mainly to think when he was being upset. The quiet was nice compared to the hustle bustle of the Common Room. He leaned his back against the cool brick, staring up at the stars.

“Merlin only knows what I’ll be without you, Y/N.”

#george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley fanfic

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gerrydelano · 3 years

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NEW CHAPTER???? live react live react oh my god ok.. ocd martin yeah. tapping as a compulsion is so real 😔😔 me🤝martin -> having ocd 😔 leo is there ! oh shit tim and gerry argument :-0 OH SHIT JON! tim w the fucking baseball bat…. it so funny to me that they just keep that on hand. just in case Oh fucking Lockdown?? oh shit there’s a creacher on the loose GET IT LEO!!!! yeah. oh here comes elias like the dickhead he is >:-( ok leo’s going to melanie’s house… “i’m losing everything” “not me” PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭GEORGIE BELOVED HIIIIII i love her so much 🫂🫂🫂 what i wld do for a georgie hug fr ….. melanie and leo friendship is so good!! yeah where the hell is martin oooohhhhhhhh he’s w jon sasha and gerry. yeah understandable . FUCKING DAISY AND BASIRA AGAIN.. god. okokok tim ok .. i enjoyed this chapter!!!

hi!

OCD Martin Real. the tapping certainly won't be plot relevant ever 😋

surprise! Leo Shouldn't Be Here but boy are we glad he was!

tim and gerry were overdue for some more active fraught energy but this is not what they anticipated oopsie

jon m'boy you have, what the kids refer to as, "fucked up bigtime"

tim got into all of this thinking they were monster stomping, and it was danny's old bat! his math is that he was doing all that For Danny, and that this way, danny's kind of helping him do it. oh, grief. also it's name being beatrix kiddo is my favorite joke ever. ilu bea

SURE IS A CREATURE! been waiting since nothing ventured ch5 to bring in this baby!!!! awoo

leo going to melanie's more like creating a trio of people who will be utterly unstoppable

tim & sasha best friends for ever.........

the amount that i want a hug from butch georgie barker. the medicinal properties to that hug would cure every single ailment in my body. she KNOWS she's the coolest

ren has them as work husband and work wife in CWM so naturally i need to make that happen here without institute contracts :-)

daisy my beloathed... she really did just kind of sniff jon huh. (basira voice) um. can we like. go.

tim is just having THE worst february of all time huh

i'm glad you had fun reading, thank you as always!

#asks #oliverbanks #pbr tag

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oh-for-merlins-sake · 4 years

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hiiiiii second to last one from me >:3 🦋🦋🦋 for taking care of georgie after a quidditch injury❤❤ thank you love

i know this probably isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but i hope you still like it!! i got the idea and ran with it soRRY

You sprinted up the stairs in a panic. The only thing on your mind was making it to the hospital wing and making sure that George was going to be all right.

Earlier, you watched him plummet from the sky after receiving a nasty blow to the gut from a bludger. You’d never been so frightened. You would’ve already been in the hospital wing if you hadn’t been frozen to your seat in shock immediately after it happened.

You erupted from the doors and scanned the wing for George.

“He’s over here, Ms. Y/L/N.” Madam Pomfrey knew exactly who you were looking for.

She escorted you to the bed in the far corner of the room where George lay shut-eyed and motionless. Madam Pomfrey dabbed his head gently with a warm washcloth before turning to you and saying, “Suffered a few fractured ribs, but he’ll be fine in no time.”

She turned to attend to a student who’d clearly been on the receiving end of a bat-bogey hex.

“George,” you said softly, squeezing his hand with yours.

He didn’t budge an inch.

You pushed his fiery red hair from his forehead, caressing his face thereafter. You smiled as your fingers lightly brushed the constellation of freckles on his cheeks. You could count each and every one and never grow tired of doing so.

Truth be told, you loved George. You loved him with every fiber of your being. But he could never know that. You’d been best friends since you met on the Hogwarts Express, both bright-eyed and hopeful at the start of your new life.

He shared his only Chocolate Frog with you that day.

But given how close you were, given how long you’d been friends, you couldn’t possibly risk losing it all by confessing your buried feelings.

But as he lie there, detached from the rest of the world, it didn’t seem like it would matter if you whispered a few sweet nothings to him — just to get it off your chest at least.

“George?”

When he gave you no inclination of consciousness, you leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, muttering, “I love you, George.”

You rested your head on his, breathing in the earthy scent of his cologne blended with his sweat.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Your eyes grew wide as your heart stopped, sinking into your stomach. You snapped your head back and looked at George.

His eyes were still glued shut, but you could see the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

You rolled your eyes. “George Weasley!”

He couldn’t help but burst into laughter, which was quickly stifled by the pain sprouting from his fractures.

“Careful!” You urged.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, clutching his sides.

“Have you been up this whole time?” You exclaimed.

“You look awfully cute when you’re mad,” he teased, perfectly content to avoid the subject.

“Well!”

He peered up at you with a grin despite the nauseating pain. “Well what?”

“Well... did you mean it?” You sheepishly asked, fiercely avoiding eye contact.

He grabbed your hand. “That I love you?”

You nodded as the heat rose to your cheeks.

“Of course,” he replied. He kissed the back of your hand and rested it on his face before closing his eyes again.

You released the breath you’d been holding and laughed. Classic George Weasley.

“Now are you going to patch me up or what?” He asked with feigned exasperation.

“Oh hush, you!”

#stef's 100 followers sleepover #george wealsey x reader #george weasley imagine

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h-styles-babes · 7 years

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No Control | Chapter Twelve

Summary:

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Please feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

TWELVE

It’s only nine in the morning, so we decide to make the trip out to Manchester first. Figure we’ll start there and work our way back toward home as the day goes on. Georgie wants to do some shopping in the city and get something good for lunch, since we really only have small diners in Wilmslow. We’re at the shops for a few hours, window shopping and actual shopping. I make myself limit my purchases, since I only have so much room in my suitcase and I’m not paying for another checked bag on the flight back.

Around noon I get a text from Trevor, checking in on me.

Hey, hoe. How was ur flight? Good, got a nap in. Hanging out with Georgie in Manchester now. Tell her I said hi and I miss her. Bring me back something cute from River Island, yeah? Do u think I have River Island money? I’ll wire u some cash. Must be nice being a rich boy. Speaking of rich boys, have u heard from Harold? Not since Saturday. Douche. Hey, be nice. He’s busy, u know that. Yeah, I know. Still. Could at least send u a text. And I could just as easily text him, but I haven’t. Two way street, ya know? So then y haven’t u? Cuz I’m not expecting anything of him. Casual, remember? Ur so full of shit. U know u still want his dick. Of course I do, but he’s in America, most likely. Not much we can do with an ocean between us. Isn’t he on a break? Could be back in the UK Who goes to the UK for a week just to come back to America for a few months? You. Fuck off. Love u too, bitch. Goodbye Trevor I’m serious about the clothes! I know you are. I’ll send you pics. Thanks boo!

I laugh and pocket my phone.

“Who was that? Trev?” Georgie asks, already walking in the direction of the River Island store.

I nod. “Yeah, says hi, and he wants me to get him something from River Island.”

“Can this be the last store? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, I’ll get him a shirt or something then we can head to eat. I’m getting hungry, too.”

I have great luck in the shop, so I pick up a button up shirt in Trev’s size, see that he’s transferred a hundred bucks into my account, and make the purchase. The shirt’s only fifty bucks, so I text him to take the rest back, but he tells me it’s part of his dad’s monthly guilt allowance, so he leaves it.

With the extra money, I take Georgie to a Red’s True Barbecue, because she has a weird obsession with American barbecue that I’ve never quite understood. She’s never actually been to America, but I described the ribs and pulled pork and coleslaw to her once, and she’s been hooked ever since. We obviously don’t have a barbecue place in Wilmslow, so Manchester or London are her only opportunities to get it, and it’s too expensive in London when she’s there for school.

It’s nearly two when we’re making our way back to our little town, and Georgie has let me drive again, claiming she’s still tired from her drive from London to Manchester over two months ago when she got done with school. I don’t mind though, because I genuinely do miss driving. It’s on our way back that Georgie grabs ahold of my left hand and jerks it into her view, nearly making me swerve into the next lane.

“Jesus! What are you doing?” I shout, trying to get my hand back. “You nearly made me wreck.” She won’t give my hand back, though, gripping my wrist tightly so I can’t put it back on the wheel.

“Where did you get this?” she asks, running her finger over Harry’s ring on my thumb.

I press my lips together and glance at her quickly before turning back to the road.

“No!” she gasps out. “Are you fucking serious? He gave you one of his rings?”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “And a few of his shirts.”

“Micky Starr Bennett! How well did you exactly get to know this man?”

“I spent a few days with him, Georgie,” I tell her, finally getting my hand back to place on the wheel. “He’s really nice, and we got to know each other pretty well.”

“So you didn’t just spend all your time together in bed?”

“No, obviously not,” I huff. “We went out and did things, we talked, we hung out with Trevor and Harry’s bandmates. I actually spoke to the guy. We got to be friends.”

“I’d say a little more than friends who fuck if he’s giving you one of his rings.”

“He said he wanted me to have something to remember him by in case we never got to see each other again.”

“That’s disgustingly sweet, but hasn’t this guy ever heard of a mobile? They’re great at being able to keep in touch with people.”

As she finishes her sentence, my phone begins to ring in the cup holder between us, where I set it when I got in the car. I glance down quickly to see Harry’s name—which I did end up changing to Harry Edward for his contact—flash across the screen, as well as a photo we took together while we were at the museum, James Dean in the background. My stomach flutters at the sight, a quick reminder that my days with him actually happened and aren’t just a figment of my overactive imagination.

“Evidently, he does,” Georgie mumbles, astonished that he’s actually calling me. Honestly, I’m a little surprised, too, considering I haven’t heard from him since the day he left. I know he had a show in Ohio and then a short break, but I didn’t know much else.

“Can you answer it and put it on speaker, please?”

“You’re gonna talk to Harry Styles while I’m in the car?” she shrieks. “I’m not prepared to hear his voice, M.”

“Oh, shut it and just answer my phone, before it goes to voicemail, you freak.”

She shoots me a glare, but slides the little answer button and presses the button for speaker when it shows up.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Hiiiiii,” Harry draws out, making me smile at the low, honey-like tone of his voice. It’s only been a few days, and I haven’t realized how much I had missed the sound. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Harry, how are you?” I ask. Georgie lets out a small choking sound beside me, but thankfully it’s muffled by the sound of the tires on the road.

“Good, enjoying my days off before getting back on the road. Where are you? It sounds a little funny.”

“I’m on the road and I’ve got you on speaker.”

“Ooh, where you headed?” he asks.

“I’m actually on my way back to Wilmslow from Manchester. Spent the morning out there with my mate.”

There’s a few moments of pause in the conversation, and Georgie looks between me and the phone. I glance down with a furrowed brow to see if the call was dropped, but it says he’s still on the line.

I hear his throat clear on the other end, finally. “You’re in England?”

I nod, even though I realize he can’t see me. “Yeah, got some time off of research, so I booked a flight and came out here to spend time with my family before school starts back up. Just got in last night.”

“You’re in England?” he asks again.

I chuckle. “Yeah, Harry, that’s what I said. Where are you?” I ask mainly to change the subject so I don’t have to answer again.

“Holmes Chapel.”

I feel my eyebrows jump up on my forehead, and Georgie’s hand clamp down over my left bicep in shock. “Yeh serious?”

“Yeah, flew in yesterday morning. We all flew back to spend time with family.”

“Oh, wow,” I breathe out. “I suppose your mum’s glad to have you home.”

“Yeah, surprised her yesterday. She cried,” he chuckles. “What are you doing today?”

I look over at Georgie for ideas, but she shrugs and shakes her head.

“Nothing. Just hanging out until my parents get home, I s’pose.”

“Can I see you?”

“What? Today? I don’t have a car. I’m using my friend’s.” The possibility of seeing Harry again is making my heart race, but the reality that I don’t have a way to get to him when he’s only a half hour away is making it plummet.

“I’ll drive out to see you. Mum’s out for a girl’s day anyway.”

“Harry, are you sure?”

He chuckles, and I can imagine him running his hand through his hair, pulling it back from his head. “Yeah. Kinda want to meet your parents anyway. They sound like proper legends.”

I groan at the thought of Harry meeting my parents. And then imagining my mum meeting Harry properly makes me groan even louder. Georgie stifles a laugh beside me, probably correctly guessing the scenarios being played out in my head.

“Oh, c’mon, love. I wanna see you. How long will your parents be out? I miss you, princess.” His tone drops to that gravelly voice he uses during sex to tease me when he won’t let me touch, and my stomach clenches. I have to refrain from rubbing my thighs together when he says, “I really need you to see you, Micky.”

I see Georgie’s eyebrows raise and she mouths, “Princess?” to me with a smirk. She’s biting on her fist to stop herself from laughing.

I clear my throat and clench my fists around the steering wheel. “Um, Harry. My friend’s still in the car.”

“Oh, fuck.” I hear some sort of shuffling. “Shit, sorry. We really have to stop talking about this shit over the phone.”

“Hey, you’re the one that always brings it up. And you’re the idiot who left his phone open on a table while you used the restroom.”

“Yeah, well you let me start talking while you’ve got me on speaker with your friend in the car.”

“I thought I had made that pretty obvious.”

He laughs. “Whatever. How much longer ’til you get home?”

“About half an hour.”

“Perfect, I’ll leave right now. Been pretty bored being home by myself. Waited all afternoon to call you so I’d catch you at a decent time for New York. Turns out I didn’t have to. Send me your address.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon, mister.”

“Bye, love. See you soon.”

Harry ends the call so that I don’t have to, and Georgie and I sit in the car in silence for a few moments, her gaze never leaving my face, which I keep pointedly towards the road.

“Princess, huh?” she finally asks, and I can hear the smirk in her voice. “Sounds a little bit like a sexual thing. Do you call him ‘Daddy?’” she asks over a chuckle, fully expecting me to deny it like she’s crazy.

I’ve never been able to lie to Georgie, however, and when I give her no response, she gasps.

“Oh, my God. You do! Holy shit. I don’t want to know. Kinky bastard.”

I have Georgie text Harry my address from my phone after we hang up, and listen to her babble some nonsense about texting the Harry Styles. I let her go on for about two minutes without saying anything, because this moment is definitely huge for our fifteen year old selves who only daydreamed about even getting to see the boys in person some day. Georgie had always been more of a Liam girl, but we could both appreciate the other boys, as well.

The rest of the trip, she asks me about how Harry was like as a person, and she sighs dreamily when I tell her he’s even more kind and caring than we could have imagined. I tell her about his love of books and poetry and how we spent a few hours just talking about nothing and everything the first night we met (I leave out that the talking happened after we’d both gone down on each other, however). I tell her about getting to hang out with all four boys when we were out in New York and finding them even more endearing and amazing after the few hours we spent together. I ask her if she knew that Louis was going to be a dad, and I feel like an idiot when she says she already knew, but she assures me that it was in a lot more gossip rags in the UK than it was in the states. I still blame spending my whole summer in the lab with my eyes glued to slides under a microscope for my lack of knowledge.

When we pull up to my house, a black Range Rover, much like the one Paul drove in New York, is parked at the curb. The windows are tinted pretty dark, so I can’t see inside, but I know that it’s Harry, most likely messing about on his phone to pass the time. I see him open his door as I park and turn off Georgie’s car, a smile splitting across my face. He looks good and very much like the uni boy he wants to be in his dark wash jeans with rips at the knees, dark brown leather boots, plain dark blue t-shirt and a pair of sunnies. He slips his mobile in his pocket and smiles as I throw open the door, skipping down the drive to meet him.

Harry opens his arms for me and I laugh as he lifts me off the ground, holding me securely to him as he spins us around. He tucks his face into my neck, his lips pressing warm kisses against the skin as my fingers make their way into his hair, having already missed the silky feel of the ringlets. I feel more than hear him hum against my skin, and I take a deep breath, savoring the scent of him—his Tom Ford cologne mixed with the mint of the gum he’s constantly chewing.

“Missed you, pet,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his face in my neck. His chest rumbles against mine, though, making me warm and fuzzy all over.

“Missed you too, H,” I sigh and turn my head to press my lips to his temple.

He finally sets my feet back in the floor, and I move to step away, but his arms at my waist pull me flush against him and his head dips down to capture my lips with his. The kiss is soft and sweet, his tongue barely sweeping against my lips, and I hum at the feeling of him pressed against me again. It’s only been a few days, but I missed him so much, and I don’t know what I would have done if I had never experienced this again.

We would stay wrapped up in each other forever, but we’re broken apart by the slamming of the car door behind me, and the sound of Georgie’s boots slowly tapping on the pavement. I nearly forgot she was still here, even though I had just gotten out of her car two minutes before. Harry pulls his head back from mine and straightens up to his full height, licking his lips. I clear my throat and turn in his arms so my side is pressed against his but we’re both facing my best friend.

“Harry, this is my best mate, Georgina. Georgie, this is Harry,” I introduce, like Georgie has been living under a rock for the last five years.

Much to my relief—even though I trust her immensely not to go complete fangirl in my drive—Georgie simply smiles and offers a wave at Harry, keeping a few feet between them. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Harry smiles, and I can see Georgie press her lips together when his dimples come out. I bite my lip to keep from chuckling. “How long have you and Micky known each other?”

“Since we were—what? Nine, I think,” she answers. I nod in confirmation. “Been like sisters ever since.”

“Sure beat the hell out of the brother I have,” I joke. Tommy and I get along fine now, and we’ve never had a bad relationship, but he was the typical older brother when we were younger. I was never allowed to hang out with him and his friends, and I was the butt of his jokes well into our adolescence. But, with the five year age difference between us, Tommy was my protector—and usually cockblock—when I was in secondary and he was in uni. Scared the boys I brought home half to death, resulting in teenage Micky not getting a whole lot of male attention until he was well moved out by twenty-two.

“At least you have an actual sibling,” she counters with a raised eyebrow. Georgie has always been bitter about the fact that she’s an only child, mainly because it’s meant her parents keep a pretty tight hold over what she does. She’d always been jealous of how laid back my parents are, resulting in her spending a majority of her time at mine whenever she could, not that anyone minded.

“Eh,” Harry shrugs. “They’re not that special.”

Georgie snorts out a laugh before putting her hand out, palm up. “Alright, give me my keys, Bennett.”

“Leaving so soon?” Harry asks, genuinely surprised at her sudden departure.

“Mick’s got an empty house and I’m sure you’ll want to…spend some time together before her parents get home,” Georgie says with a suggestive raise of her brows. “I’m sure I’ll be back over later, though. Her parents like to feed me.” She smiles big and cheesy before rounding her car to get in the driver’s side. She waves at us through the window as she back down the drive before pulling onto the street.

“Come on, it’s getting chilly out here,” I urge, pulling him toward my house. The wind has started to pick up and the sun has disappeared behind the clouds, making the previously tolerable day require jumpers and jeans. I get us into the house quickly and kick off my shoes by the front door, Harry doing the same.

“Want a cuppa?” I ask, heading toward the kitchen, glancing at him over my shoulder.

Harry trails behind me, looking over the photos my parents have spread around the house. “Yeah, that’d be great.” I leave him in our sitting room to look at some of old vacation photos and go to put on a kettle.

We’ve got a variety of teas in a cupboard above the sink, so I sort through them, trying to find something that might be suitable. English breakfast tea sounds a little boring, but it’s getting a bit too chilly for a fruity tea that my mom likes. “How do you feel about chamomile?” I ask, my voice slightly raised so he can hear me.

I don’t realize, however, that he has stealthily entered the kitchen behind me, thanks to his boots being off, and he answers from only about a metre away, startling me.

“I like chamomile with a bit of sugar,” he agrees, his voice smooth and warm. I feel his arms warp around my middle as I grab for the box I want, his hands diving under the elastic hem of my shirt to my skin. His hands are surprisingly warm, except for the cool metal of his rings at his knuckles. He hums and presses his lips to my exposed shoulder. “I like this shirt.”

The box tumbles from my hands onto the counter when he bites lightly at my skin and his hands trail to hold my sides. “You smell good, too.”

“You’re gonna have to behave for a bit if you still want tea,” I tell him, reaching a hand back to wind in his hair and play with the little ringlets.

“I’ll be good, promise,” he assures, pressing more chaste kisses along my shoulders and up to my cheek. His chest is warm against my back, and I can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into me, but he’s good and just holds me to him. “Just missed you, is all.”

I can’t help the smile that touches my lips at his confession. “Missed you too, Harry.” I turn my head and catch his lips in a short peck, not letting it progress any further since the kettle starts whistling.

Harry lets me go as I turn to switch off the burner, and I direct him to where the mugs are, just by the cabinet full of tea. I pour hot water in and submerge the little bags. There’s a platter on the kitchen table with sugar on it, so I direct Harry to grab it before leading him into the living room. We settle in next to each other on the couch and I reach for the throw blanket on the back, pulling it across my lap. It’s odd to me to be getting cozy like this in the middle of August, but I wouldn’t trade English summers for anything.

THIRTEEN

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #No Control #one direction

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annbrighthaus-blog · 5 years

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Five years ago, Scrubs Magazine was invited to tour the offices of Cherokee Uniforms. Cherokee is owned by a group called Strategic Partners. It’s a behemoth of a company, responsible for a ton of other medical apparel and clothing brands. We were introduced to Mike Singer, SPI’s CEO, who was impressive, to say the least. We also met Debbie Singer, Mike’s sister, Media Director for the Cherokee Uniforms brand and a co-owner of the company.

Debbie has been labeled with changing the face of style and attire in the medical community over the past five years, and the expansion has been impressive. We recently visited SPI again, for an updated tour and more in-depth interview with Debbie.

As we walked around the sprawling building, we were greeted by SPI’s scrub empire in all its glory: Large, glossy posters displaying its various brands, fun footwear for medical professionals, Disney character prints and an entire department dedicated to seamstresses. Oh, and the obligatory Bagel Friday. After the tour, we sat down with Debbie for a one-on-one.

A sweet, high pitched “Hiiiiii” escapes as Debbie jumps up out of her seat, offering a hug. We’re standing at Debbie’s cubicle. No office. No throne. She isn’t what you think. Understated is a key word we would attach to this pint-sized woman who has been socially adorned with the crown of changing the face of medical attire. We walk to get coffee.

Debbie gives us an express rundown of the company’s history, namely how she and her brother worked side by side with their teams to turn it into a huge operation. Over 500 employees and shipping to 70 countries to be exact. Again, understated. We get the feeling she’s had more to do with the company than she lets on, but of course, that’s her M.O.

We’re not really here to talk about Debbie’s entrepreneurial skills, although it certainly explains why she’s successful, but we’re here to discuss her role in the social world. She works alongside 60 medical ambassadors that are “fiercely loyal” as she so nicely puts it. “Loyalty in this industry is key, and no one would get anywhere without it.” I understand where she’s coming from. I’ve been privy to other medical brands who seem to run through ambassadors like I run through bathroom paper (I’m not loyal to that either), but what’s important to Singer is consistency. “It’s deposits and withdrawals,” as I ask what makes a good ambassador and why. “I’m not just a brand to this group, we’re family. They’ve stayed at my house, we’ve enjoyed dinners, charity campaigns, even vacations.”

Gayana Chuklansev

Debbie offers a dynamic that no other brand can compete with. “Other brands throw money at the situation, but that runs out. We’ve helped ambassadors fuel their own ambitions, products and their influence. We distribute scrubs, medical shoes,

Littmann stethoscopes

, compression socks. We have a big footprint and can offer a lot more than a quick $200 here and $200 there.” We discussed Nurses Take Disneyland, during which Debbie orchestrated an entire event where nurses literally took over Disneyland in California (which Scrubs Magazine covered). It’s not only influencers that Debbie works with, large scale brands that she’s fostered relationships with over the years jump in when needed. Debbie enlisted the likes of

Emerald Health Services

, a national nurse staffing agency, and

NurseGrid

to help with the Disneyland campaign. It reached over 1 million people and nearly 3,000 Nurses descended on the event, including Kelley Johnson (Miss California and also a nurse). According to another ambassador, Katie Duke, (NP) she wouldn’t be where she is if it weren’t for Debbie’s input.

“Debbie is like my sister. We pioneered the way for Medical Ambassadors, and I’ve never worked with anyone who is so supportive of my personal goals, completely selfless and driven.” – Katie Duke, NP.

Latin Nurse Teresa

Nurse Georgie

and

Katie Duke

It’s a powerful statement, but does she have the goods to back it up? You bet she does. In under two years she amassed an influencer network that commands massive engagement and millions of followers. She’s a smart cookie, like I said, understated. She’s an early adopter and it’s noticeable that she sets the trend versus following it. Cherokee Uniforms was the first brand to create an ambassador program and essentially led medical apparel into the digital age. But it makes sense; what I come to find out is that Debbie lives and breathes it, and she doesn’t stop at 5pm. “I’m on the treadmill at 10pm working, I call it working, but the old adage is true that when you love what you do, it doesn’t feel like work.”

But it’s not just engaging with these influencers and sending out product?

“Not at all, I like to think I know a little about fashion (she says with a wink) and I know scrubs inside out, I know the fabrics, body shapes and sizes, what looks good on a petite nurse might look different on a size 10. Color schemes are also hugely important, we have hundreds of designs, fabrics and seasonal changes. I also have a 13-year-old daughter who keeps me in check. But for ambassadors like Lauren Drain, I dressed her in Cherokee Infinity (the company’s answer to Lululemon for scrubs) in a hot pink.” Lauren Drain is a nurse, fitness guru, and top-tier influencer who is also a Cherokee brand ambassador.

“I’m always on the lookout for the next influencer, and numbers aren’t always key. You have to be personable, be a good person and have something to say. Engagement is everything. I also want to know what you’re doing to give back.”

“I cannot explain the respect and gratitude I have for Debbie Singer. She has fearlessly led our Ambassadors with a compassion for others like I’ve never seen before. It’s an honor to know her, love her, and work right alongside her.” Kelly Johnson, Nurse, Miss USA/California Winner, Official Spokesperson for Cherokee Uniforms.

I was intrigued as to what happens next. You have all of these influencers working with you, posting on social every day, events, the list is endless. But what’s next in your path? I genuinely asked this question because it feels like a natural progression in the discussion. I wasn’t necessarily expecting the following answer.

“We have something very special in store for our community. I can’t give too much away, but let me just say that 2019 is going to blow your mind. Just keep an eye out on the Cherokee Uniforms social pages to find out.”

Lofty ambitions? Perhaps, but if you look at what the Singers have accomplished over the past three decades, you don’t take anything with a grain of salt. Debbie treats everyone like family, and it’s this feeling of belonging that has catapulted her network. It’s what pulls this community together, and if the medical industry is a family, Debbie Singer is the godmother.

#inspiration and stories #scrubs #scrubsmag

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