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wastelandnarry · 3 years

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Georgia - hes

summary: He never should of told her, never should’ve let her see inside at what was troubling his mind. Now he’s singing Georgia on his mind.

author’s notes: inspired by Georgia - Vance Joy. I have wanted to write something with this song for the longest time and I thought it matched a Harry scenario perfectly! I hope you guys enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of food, breakup, angst.

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Harry watched her from the window as she walked through the crowd. His eyes had caught hers once or twice during the night already and he was convinced that he'd lose his mind if it happened again. The party had been a distraction for him, a way to get his mind off of the stress of his upcoming film and maybe even just to let loose for the first time in months. He'd been nursing the drink in his hand, the soft pink liquid in the glass swirling with whatever edible glitter that had been added in. If he was being honest, he'd only grabbed the drink after having watched her grab one for herself and smile to herself when she took a sip. She was electric, the people around her hanging onto every word that left her, something Harry watched from a distance, hoping that eventually the courage would kick in and he'd be able to walk over to her.

She was, after all, his ex-girlfriend.

Georgia had come into Harry's life all at once and he wasn't too sure how he'd managed to convince her to date him. She was kind and bold, always knowing when to reassure him on the days when his confidence was low. She was giving and had a laugh that Harry could listen to on repeat if it was ever possible. Georgia was something to behold and Harry had somehow managed to be loved by her. Their whirlwind of a relationship had started one night after they'd run into each other for the fifth time at the coffee shop near Harry's studio. He'd been up for an ungodly amount of hours and needed a caffeine kick. He was convinced that he looked more like a mummy than an actual human and just his luck, Georgia had been sitting in her usual seat.

She'd been typing away on her laptop with the steaming mug of a vanilla latte, the one Harry learned she always got, cooling off next to her. Her eyes had been focused on the screen in front of her, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as Harry thanked his luck that she hadn't spotted how out of it he looked that day. That was until the barista called his name out and her eyes shot up, meeting his in the loud and bustling shop. Her kind smile, the one that Harry would remember long after their occasional run-in, had left Harry breathless as he rushed over to grab his drink.

"Early morning?" her voice, which Harry decided was the best thing he'd heard all morning, said as she walked past him when she walked past him to throw away the banana peel she'd been holding onto, "You don't usually pop in until much later."

"Oh, so you've noticed me?" Harry asked and chuckled, trying his best to mask his embarrassment as he pulled down the hoodie that had been covering the unruly curls on his head.

"Hard not to, considering everyone in this place goes quiet the second you walk in here. Which I should thank you for, gives me a moment of peace and clarity," she nodded and chuckled, "Georgia, it's nice to meet you,"

"Harry,"

"Yeah, I assumed."

Waking up most days, the sun was barely peeking out behind the clouds and Harry had always felt the pull his bed gave him. If he didn't rub his eyes and stretched out his back, he could almost hear the mattress whispering, "come back to bed, Harry," which was all he wanted to do. But he was an adult and his latest movie project had called for some very early morning call times. So there Harry was, waking up before the sun even made it's presence known to the world, sliding on some comfy joggers and his favorite hoodie to shield him from the morning cold.

"Bub," Georgia's tired voice whined out from his bed, "Too early, don't go."

"I'm sorry, bug, I've got to head out soon, shooting early today and tomorrow," Harry sighed, looking over at the lump in the blankets that was his girlfriend, "Go back to bed, yeah?"

"Wanna kiss," she yawned and peeked out from the blankets, her tired eyes meeting Harry's in the dim-lit room.

Harry smiled, his feet padding against the wood floors as he made his way over to her side of the bed. Harry had asked her if she'd wanted to move in a few weeks before, which had resulted in Harry's place being filled with pieces of her and him mixed in with one another. His hand found a spot on her hip, rubbing a pattern onto the exposed skin as he leaned down to press a kiss onto her lips. He knew it was dangerous. The kisses shared between the two of them usually ended with moans and whimpers being let out into the room and Harry really couldn't afford to be late to filming. But Georgia's soft lips on his pulled him closer into her, and the bed, and he found himself with that same pulling feeling his mattress would give him back when he was alone.

"Have fun today, yeah?" Georgia breathed out, her forehead resting against Harry's as they both took in one last moment together.

The drive to the set, which was usually when Harry drove in silence and tried to get into character, was filled with soft music. Harry's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he hummed along to the playlist his phone had been playing for the past couple of weeks, a mix of his favorites, Georgia's favorites, and songs that reminded them of one another. Harry had been stopped at a red light when a song he'd picked for the playlist started playing, his smile growing as he heard the opening strums of the guitar.

"...I could easily lose my mind, the way you kiss me will work each time, calling me to come back to bed singing Georgia on my mind..."

Walking back through the front door, something Harry had done more times than he could count, after his tiring day at the studio, he hadn't expected to be met with Georgia dancing around the living room. Music floated through the house; one of Georgia's favorite things about his place, which she'd told him late one night in bed, was how great the acoustics were and how the music just sounded better. Harry watched as her she danced along to the beat of her favorite song, one which had been on repeat for the past two weeks. His heart swelled and his tired body seemed to spring to life as he watched Georgia turn and face him, her eyes wide and filled with innocence at behind caught lost in a moment.

“Harry!” she said excitedly and rushed over to pull him into a tight hug, one that Harry happily returned, “How was it?”

“Was okay, darling, not as entertaining as that dance though,” he teased, his lips finding her forehead, “What a nice show to walk into.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” she mumbled and rolled her eyes, “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Dinner has been filling, the wine shared between Harry and Georgia making them both warm and fuzzy. They’d cleaned up, humming along to the song that was playing from the living room, and before they knew it they were both laying on the couch taking one another in. Harry had found comfort between Georgia’s thighs, his body slotting in between hers as if they were made to be, his lips exploring the softness of her own. Harry could’ve kissed her for the rest of his life if he tried, he might’ve already been doing that. He always seemed to lose track of time whenever Georgia was in his arms and her lips were on his. The wine certainly hadn’t helped, their movements clumsy and slow as the took each other in and explored their bodies together. It wasn’t until he felt Georgia’s hips push up against his, both of them letting out a groan, that he slowly pulled away. His eyes opened to find a view that had been so heavenly to him in the past couple of months since their relationship had started.

“What is it…?” Georgia asked, her chest rising and falling with the panty breathes she was taking.

“You just…you’re breathtaking,” he whispered, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face, “I don’t deserve your love,” he mumbled.

Underneath him, Georgia was the definition of breathtaking. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated, taking over him and leaving Harry with goosebumps on his skin, almost as if she was touching him all over and yet not at all. Her lips, which Harry has been attacking not too long ago, were plush and pink, a sheen of their shared spit still covering them. Her hair had been tousled and no longer framed her face while she laid on the couch, it was poking out in different directions and she might’ve called it horrendous at that angle but Harry loved it. He loved everything about Georgia, she was the one who could make him lose his mind.

“Oh please,” Georgia laughed and shook her head, turning to press a soft kiss into Harry’s palm, “I could never and would never want to love anyone else, Harry.”

“Yeah?” he whispered, fear flashing across his face for just a second before it was gone without a trace at the feel of Georgia’s lips on his again, “I love you, bug.”

“I love you more.”

Georgia was leaving. Her business trip would take her away for almost a week, leaving Harry with a pain in his chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he’d try to push it. He walked her through the train station, holding her bag tightly in his hand as they strolled hand in hand towards the platform. Harry’s heart raced as he felt her lips on his for the last time in a while, his throat aching as he watched her board the train and walked out of view until she found a seat near the window where she could wave goodbye. He wasn’t used to this, being the one who would wave off their lover, he was always the one who was leaving. But as the train screeched and sped off, leaving Harry alone on the platform staring at the brick wall ahead of him, he couldn’t believe Georgia had done this for him countless times.

He’s gone back home alone, the passenger seat next to him feeling cold and he found himself pouting when his hand was met with the feel of leather instead of the softness of Georgia’s thigh. He’d stayed by the phone most of the evening, watching for any updates that she might send on her journey to a city far away from Harry. He had no idea how she did this every time Harry had to leave for a tour or for a movie project, she’d only been gone for a few hours and he’d found himself walking aimlessly around the house, waiting for a sign that she was okay. It was horrible, the waiting and the anxiousness that came with it all.

By the fourth day, Harry had realized just how much he’d taken Georgia for granted. He missed her like crazy. He missed the way she always curled up next to him in bed, how her hand always found his in the middle of the night and gave it a squeeze to show him she was still there beside him. He missed her soft voice and how it sounded while she was on a work call and Harry was in his office or reading through a script. He missed the way her arms would wrap around him and how she would hide her face in his chest, leaving kisses on his skin until he laughed and peppered her skin with kisses. By the fourth day of Georgia being gone, he realized just how hard it must’ve been to be with him.

On the fifth day, Harry had called her after one too many drinks and told her how he felt. His slurred voice rambled on about how he never realized how unfair he has been to her and how she deserved a better relationship. He told her all about how he’d felt since she been gone and how he couldn’t imagine feeling like this every other month. He’d rambled on for minutes on end, his drunken truths interrupted only by the sniffles he’d get caught up in before returning to his original point. The one that Georgia had been trying to figure out for the past hours since he’s hung up the phone. The one that had left her in her hotel room, wiping away the tears Harry had brought on.

“I’m not good enough for you,” he’d choked out, “I leave and disappear for weeks on end and you just…you just wait for me to get back. Do you wait with the same hole in your chest that I have? Because I’d never wish this on anyone, bug, it’s horrendous.”

It had all happened too fast, the rambling and the tears and hit Georgia’s ears before she even had time to think of a response. It felt like seconds had passed since she’s answered the call, excited to tell Harry all about her advent ours day in a city she’d never been to, only to have her heartbroken. Then, as if some cruel joke was being played on her, time slowed down. Every ring to Harry’s dragged on and on until his voicemail message was heard and the line went dead. She’d spent the rest of her night listening to the droning sound, hoping that eventually Harry would answer and she could calm him down, show him the truth, and tell him that she loved him. But the phone was never picked up and the pit in Georgia’s stomach was filled with anxiety.

Arriving back at the platform where she had last seen Harry, her eyes searched the massive crowd of people, her nerves rose as she walked out of the station alone. Her cab ride back home had been silent, her fingers playing with the necklace around her neck nervously as she watched the familiar streets pass by her window, hoping that when she got home she’d be met with the sight of her lover. It had been two days since the call with Harry. Two days since she’d heard from him or even got a text back from him. She was used to the silence, it was something that happened sometimes when Harry’s job became bust and chaotic and he lost himself in it all. But this time around things were different and Harry had been promised at least a couple of weeks off to relax and regain who he was. He was meant to be at home with the people he loved.

Georgia was met with an empty house, the sound of her bag hitting the floor echoing throughout the large rooms. She’d walked through the whole place, calling our Harry’s name only to be met with more silence. It wasn’t until she walked into the bedroom and saw the small card on her pillow that the fear in her truly rose. She must’ve sat on the bed and read through the damn note a thousand times, her body too in shock to move and too anxious to accept that he was gone.

“It’s better this way, bug. You deserve someone who can truly love you the way you are meant to be loved. All I do is cause you pain, I’m barely here for you and I couldn’t even handle less than a week without you. I’m sorry, I wish things could’ve ended differently. I will always have you on my mind, Georgia. Love Always, Harry.”

Harry’s voicemail message, one Georgia had gotten to memorize by the number of times she’d had to listen to it, hit her hears again. Her hands curled around the note, wrinkling it and ripping the paper on one side. Her tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to steady her voice, her mind running a million miles an hour as she tried her best to keep down a sob.

“You left…y-you just left and didn’t even say goodbye to me. You didn’t even give me a good reason, Harry.” she sniffed, her eyes looking around the room that was filled with them both, “I knew what I was getting myself into when we started this. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy and there would be times where I wouldn’t see you for weeks on end. But I also knew that you were everything I wanted.”

Georgia had been warned about Harry when they first started seeing each other. She was told all the rumors about him and plenty of people had tried to scare her away from him and his world. But she knew there was more to him than just a pop star sensation, more to him than the act he put on both off-screen and on. He was kind and gentle and so caring. He was ambitious and inspirational, always wanting the best for himself and those he surrounded himself with. Harry was nothing like what the media portrayed and that had made Georgia fight for them to work.

“I know what your job is like, I knew from the beginning and I stayed, Harry. I stayed because I love you and I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted,” she whispered and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her sweater, “So please just…just call me back and we can fix this, yeah? I love you,” she sighed and hesitated for a few seconds before hanging up.

Harry, from his hotel room just a few blocks away, listened to the voicemail for hours before his eyes finally closed and he drifted off to sleep.

And then she ran into her at that damn party.

In the short span of the party, Harry had somehow managed to grab her attention and after another sip of the pink drink, they both found themselves walking off to the garden. She’d walked out first, her eyes meeting his while she passed by, almost as if giving Harry a sign to follow her. He’d taken one last sip of his drink, setting the cup down before he followed after her. She looked beautiful in the soft light of the garden, but then again, she always looked beautiful. It wasn’t until Harry’s eyes met hers, which were dull in comparison to the usual emotions they’d held before, that he realized just how much he had missed her presence.

“How have you been?” Harry asked, breaking the silence between them and instantly hating how her shoulders and jaw tensed, “I…I’m sorry about…”

“About leaving me with just a note and a shitty explanation?” Georgia asked, her eyes staring into Harry’s with a new emotion, anger.

“Georgia I…” Harry started, the lump in his throat growing as she shook her head and sighed.

“No, you had your chance to talk,” she frowned, “You has your chance to talk and call or even just text me, and did you? No! All you did was ignore me for four months and now you won’t stop staring at me at this party and it’s just…”

“I love you,” he blurted out, his eyes wide as he waited for her reaction, “I know I messed up but I love you and I haven’t stopped loving you since you spilled chocolate syrup on me during our first sleepover.”

“You can’t just show up after months and expect me to forgive you. You broke my heart, Harry! You left me and I couldn’t even stop you,” she whispered shakily, her eyes meeting his in the moonlight, “I just…I miss you so much and I should hate you. I should hate your guys but I just can’t.”

They talked more after that, both of them too tired from the stress and heartbreak of the past months to put up much of a fight. They talked until the moon was disappearing on the horizon and the music behind them both dimmed until it was just Harry and Georgia's voice floating up into the sky. They talked about everything, the insecurities they’d both had, the challenging parts of their relationship, and even the terrifying parts. They both moved closer to one another as the night went on, leaning into the warmth they both gave off until they had said everything they needed to say.

“Please just…can we try again?” Harry whispered as his hand found Georgia’s, his eyes meeting hers with a pleasing look, “I want to work this out with you, I want us to work.”

“I never wanted you to leave in the first place, Harry,” Georgia whispered, her forehead leaning against his as they both felt a pressure lift off their shoulders. Both finally feeling a little more like themselves for the first time in months.

Harry's personal life changed a lot after that party. He continued to throw himself into his work, leaving his studio from late nights recording and rushing on to the set of his latest movie project. Starring in movies had always been a dream for Harry, he got to immerse himself into a world and a life he'd never lived. It was so surreal whenever he walked on stage in his costume, it all felt like a dream. But his latest dreams in life include a certain someone by his side. They included Georgia, whose warmth and kindness brought Harry a bigger thrill than any of his projects ever could. The months apart had left both of them searching for one another in an ocean of regrets and words unspoken until that night at the party.

It was hard work, especially when he was writing and recording in whatever spare time he had on days after he was done filming, making time for his relationship with the love of his life was something he’d never take for granted again. He’d move planets for Georgia and he knew that she’d do the same for him. And maybe, just maybe, the ring that had been hiding in Harry’s bag would make an appearance in the coming months, to show his lover that he would always sing with Georgia on his mind.

taglist: @hrrypinks @matchacal

#harry styles x oc #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles blurbs #harry styles #gemma writes

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atlafan · 4 years

Note

could u maybe write something ab harry and the reader reuniting after taking a break for a while 🥺 just something a lil angsty and fluffy

a/n: oh wow, I’ve actually been wanting to write something about this for a little bit, let’s see what I can whip up! Less angst in this than I thought, but super fluffy. Hope you liked it! This is an au, so ya boy’s not famous.

New York to London

It wasn’t easy, but you both decided to take some time apart. You both just graduated from college, and you needed to figure out what you were doing for jobs. If you needed to move somewhere for work, neither of you wanted to hold the other back. You were in love, but you were still so young. If it was meant to be, it would happen, right?

You ended up in New York. You loved clothes and fashion. Were a marketing major with a minor in art. You found yourself living in a cozy apartment on the upper east side, working remotely for a clothing app. You got to design and select outfits for people. It was sort of like Stitch Fix. Working from home allowed you to fill up your sketch books with design ideas of your own. Sometimes you would go out and work from the local coffee shop, just to have a change of scenery, of course making sure to buy coffee and food in exchange for the free wifi.

You and Harry agreed not to really talk, or fill each other in what you were doing. Neither of you wanted to fall into the “please, just come move here with me” trap. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, or if he had decided to go back to London altogether. You missed him, and it was a good relationship, but it had definitely run its course. You were with him for two years, you did a lot of growing up together, but you were never certain if he was the man of future.

Six months into your job, you had started making friends in the city. You found time to go out and enjoy the night life when you could. You had even gone on a few dates here and there, a couple of one night stands when you were sick of using your own devices to get off. Things a lot of young, twenty-somethings did. One day, out of the blue, you got a text from your ex-boyfriend.

Harry: hi love, is it okay if I still call you that? lol...anyways, I’m in NYC for a few days...work thing...would love to see you if you’re up for it...xx

You take a deep breath when you see the text. You hate the way it makes your heart flutter. You ended up dating Harry in the first place because he always had this way of making you nervous, but in a good way. You always had butterflies around him, and you always found it hard to say no. You were genuinely curious to see how he was doing, and what exactly he did for work, so after waiting precisely twenty minutes, you decide to text him back.

You: hey! course it’s okay ;p I’d love to catch up! dinner and a drink sound good?

Harry: sounds great, name the time and place

You and Harry decide to meet up at a restaurant near his hotel that Friday night. You didn’t want to go to some tourist trap, but you knew of a nice place near where he was staying. You made sure to look your best, maybe remind him a bit of what he was missing. You knew he’d do the same. You put on your best little black dress, put your hair up into a sleek high pony, and put on some makeup. You grabbed a pair of red pumps for a pop of color, and into your uber you went.

It was a nice, spring evening. It was getting warmer out, so you only needed a light jacket along with your dress. You wait in the lobby of the restaurant for him.

“Y/N?”

You’d know the sound of his voice anywhere. You turn around and smile. He was almost shocked, you had never looked better. He looked nice. Blue pair of slacks, white button up with the first few undone, and a salmon pink sport coat. Classic Harry.

“Hi!”

You wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“You look great.” He says, blushing slightly.

“Thanks, so do you. I put a reservation in for us online. Wanna see if the table’s ready?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

He puts his hands in his pockets and follows you up to the hostess. She checks you both in and leads you to your table a few minutes later.

“Come here a lot?” He asks as he sits down.

“Sometimes. Been here with some friends.”

You take your jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. He gets a really good eye full of you. He smiles when he sees you wearing the necklace he had gotten you for your last birthday.

“So, you’re in the city for work?”

“Yup, I’m an admissions counselor for a small school up in New Hampshire. I got hired to do a lot of the traveling, so I’m rarely on campus.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Where else do you travel to?”

“Mostly the state of New York and Massachusetts.”

“What made you-”

“Hi folks, I’m Max, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start either of you off with a drink?”

“I’d love a glass of pinot noir please.” You smile.

“Just a Corona for me, thanks.”

“Excellent, I’ll be back in a few minutes with those.” He smiles and walks away.

“Anyways, what made you want to become an admissions counselor?”

“I get to travel with all expenses paid. I really had no idea what I wanted to do after I graduated, so this gives me more time to figure it out. I can explore the various places I go to. S’not like I’m tied down, right?” He jokes.

“Right.”

He clears his throat.

“So, it seems like the city’s treating you well.”

“Very well!” You chuckle. “I love it so much. I get to work remotely too, so no one really bothers me, which is great. I’m able to work on my sketches in my down time.”

“Yeah, you’re working for like a clothing subscription service?”

“Mhm, it’s awesome. I love getting to know my clients and all that.”

“You seem happy.”

“I am. I feel really independent.”

The waiter comes back over with your drinks. You end up ordering a salad with some grilled shrimp, while Harry opts for a veggie burger. You clink your glasses together.

“So, it’s okay that I texted right?”

“Of course! I think I’d be a little upset if I knew you were so close by and didn’t even think to say hi.”

“I’ve wanted to reach out for a while, but...I know you said you wanted some space.”

“Well, we both agreed on that.”

“I guess.” He shrugs.

“Did we not?”

“No, we did. I guess all I mean is...I don’t know...takin’ a break has just been weird, that’s all.”

Before you can respond, your food is brought over. The conversation lightens up a bit as you eat. Harry really enjoys the food. Towards the end, he insists that he pays. You eventually agree to just split the bill.

“Wanna come see my place? I think you’ll like it, it’s cozy.”

“Sure! Thought I’d have to work a little harder for you to invite me back with you.” He smirks.

“Oh, stop it.” You swat an arm at him.

The uber ride back to your place is quiet. He was impressed by the building you were in. He couldn’t believe you could afford such a nice place.

“So, it’s a studio, but it’s not cramped.” You show him inside. “Like, I can stretch out in the shower.” You giggle. “Got really creative with the storage too.”

“View makes it all worth it, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” You both look out the window together. “Sit, sit. What can I get for you? I have more wine, and some beers int he fridge.”

“Beer’s fine, thanks.”

He sits down on your small couch while you get the drinks together. You come back over and him a beer.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” You take a sip of your wine. “So, do you, like, have an apartment in New Hampshire?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a small place to call home when I’m not traveling.”

“That’s good.”

“Mhm.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Can I ask you something...sort of personal?”

“Um, sure.”

“You haven’t been, like, hooking up have you?”

“What?”

“Because I haven’t.”

“I never told you not to.”

“So, does that mean you have?”

“Harry...we’re not together, we’re broken up.” You frown and so does he.

“A break is different from a break up, though, right?”

“We agreed to end things so we could go off and find our career paths. I mean, I think about you a lot, but I guess I didn’t really think we’d actually get back together. It’s been six months, Harry.”

“I know...”

“I mean, I’m not seeing anyone. I’ve had a few dates here and there, but nothing serious. I don’t really have time for it.”

“Me neither...I guess the only difference is I haven’t wanted to even be with anyone else, random or not.”

“I find that very hard to believe.” You scoff. “If there was a day I couldn’t see you, you’d tell me how touch starved you were.”

“That’s true, but it was your touch I was starved for, no one else’s. You know me, I was never the hook up guy as it was. It’s gross.” He takes another sip of his drink. “Do you always hook up with different people or-”

“No.”

He nods his head.

“How many have there been?”

“What does it matter?”

“Just wondering if I need to catch up or something.” He scoffs.

“Harry, we never agreed on not hooking up with other people, we never even talked about it.”

“Because I just assumed we wouldn’t! Don’t you miss me?”

“I miss being in college and having zero responsibilities.” You sigh. “I try not to think about what I miss about you too much. And no offense, but I’ve actually begun a career. You’re still figuring things out. It wouldn’t good if we tried to get back together right now. I like living alone, and-”

“Alright, I get it, you’re better off without me.” He rolls his eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” You put your hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it away.

“Do you think I like not being good enough? I’d give you the world if I could, but I literally have zero idea what I’m passionate about. I feel like I wasted four years of my life. Now when I talk with these kids on where they want to go to school and the reasons they want to go...” He shakes his head.

“You’re a people person, you’ve always been that way. You have a stage presence to you. A room lights up when you walk in.”

“S’not exactly a transferable skill, love.”

“You’ll figure it out, Harry. I know you will.”

A year or so later you heard from a mutual friend that Harry moved back to London. He had gone off into the world of PR, and he was thriving. Your job had lead you to some opportunities to go to London, they had even asked you if you wanted to relocate there. Many of the clothing lines they had were exported from there, and they wanted you more on the buying team since you had such a great eye. You said you’d consider it and go for a visit to check things out. You and Harry hadn’t talked much since he had seen you in New York, but you wanted to pay him the same courtesy he given you.

You: Hey, Harry! It’s Y/N...I’m coming to London next week for a work thing. Might even be relocating there! I was wondering if you’d like to get together. Maybe you can tell me how great the city is, lol

You had deleted the text about five times before actually hitting send. Two hours later he got back to you.

Harry: Did you think I deleted your number?! Of course I know it’s you! That sounds great, let me just check over my schedule with my assistant and I’ll get back to you on when would work.

You: wow, an assistant, how fancy are you?

Harry: she keeps my head on straight, that’s for sure

You: well, I’m looking forward to seeing you...it’s been too long!

Harry: I agree

And just like that, you had butterflies in your stomach. You hoped maybe he was single, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he was seeing someone. He was a girlfriend guy, and you had basically told him you weren’t getting back together last time you spoke.

You were given a wonderful tour of the office you’d potentially be working in. Everyone seemed friendly, and you certainly wouldn’t be the only American working there if you decided to accept.

Towards the end of the week, Harry invited you over for a dinner at his flat. You were surprised he didn’t want to go out. Maybe you’d be starting at his flat and then go to a club? You were dying to see how the London night life compared to New York’s. You take a cab to his flat and text him when you’re there. He comes downstairs to meet you outside.

“Harry!” You practically squeal. You wrap your arms around each other for a nice embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too. Driver found the place okay?”

“Mhm.” You smile.

“Come on up. Just got dinner on the table.”

He leads you upstairs. Your jaw drops when you see how spacious his flat is. It was a one bedroom with a nice open concept. It looked like he entertained quite often. He had a bar set up in the living area.

“This is beautiful.”

“Thanks. Figured I could afford a nice place, why not have one?” He shrugs.

You use his hall bath to freshen up. He has you sit down at his dining table. He had made curry.

“This smells so good, thanks so much for cooking.”

“I figured you’d enjoy a real meal after eating out all week.”

“You figured right, thank you.”

“Oh stop.” He sits down. “Just eat, yeah?”

You moan after tasting the food.

“This is delicious.”

“Thanks.” He smirks. “So, do you think you really might move here?”

“I might, yeah. It seems like a really big step up for me.”

“No one back in New York to miss you?”

“Nope.” You grin. “Other than the few friends I’ve made.” You shrug. “My family is really supportive too.”

“That’s great. I’m really glad I came home. I feel like once I did the opportunities came flying in. I love PR. I make phone calls, set up events. And I get to meet so many cool people.”

“And you have an assistant.” You chuckle.

“S’not what you think. She’s not some young thing that’s enthralled with me. She’s like forty years old, has a couple of kids that don’t need her home with them anymore. She’s a great help though. I actually requested someone a little older.”

“Why’s that?”

“Some of the younger girls in the interview, when they actually came to speak with me, I don’t know, I just kept getting this weird vibe.”

“It’s because you’re so captivating. You’re intimidating, but charming.” You take another bite of food. “Sexy.”

“Oh, gimme a break.”

“I’m serious! You always made me feel nervous when we first started talking. You would always really sit back and observe the room before talking. You can be quiet sometimes. But that was you then, that’s just a version of you that I know, you could be different now.”

“I’d like to think so. Although, I think I’m just a good listener. I definitely like reading a room before I join a conversation.”

“I’m so happy to see you doing well.” You take a sip of your drink. “So...any lucky ladies or fellas in your life?”

“No.” He laughs. “M’way too busy for all that. I mean...I’ve had some fun here and there, I’m not celibate.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “What about you?”

“Nothing serious.” You shrug. “I haven’t minded being focused on my career, you know? I have a good work-life balance, don’t get me wrong, but like if I were in a relationship right now, I may not be making this move.”

“Tell me, if I didn’t live here would you still consider moving?”

“I don’t know. It’s a huge plus knowing I’d have someone close by, someone I know to show me around. If you had the time of course. You could even tell me what the good neighborhoods to live in are.”

“You could get a flat here. It’s a really nice building to be in. I bet you’d be able to afford it if I can. They want you to be a buyer?”

“Yeah, my boss thinks I have a great eye, and I always get the highest ratings from my clients.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you. I know last time we saw each other it didn’t seem like it, but I was really confused about the direction my life was going. I wasn’t happy.”

“You’re happy now?”

“Very much.”

“Good.” You put your hand over his. “It’s all I ever wanted for you, to be the best version of yourself.”

“Same here with you.” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “I got some chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. Wanna move to the sofa?”

“Sure!”

You both sit down on his large sectional. You dive into the sweet treat.

“Do you entertain a lot?”

“Sometimes, yeah. I like it better than going to some stuff club. You can be out until four in the morning if you’re not careful.” He laughs.

“Well, I’d love for you to take me out to a club sometime.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, love. I’ll take any excuse to dance with you.” His dimple peeks out in his grin, and it makes you melt. “When do you have to give them your decision by?”

“A few days. I’m headed back to New York tomorrow night.”

“How’s your hotel been?”

“It’s nice...not as cozy as this though.” You lean back into the cushions and look up at him.

“Yeah, I definitely don’t miss that about working in admissions. Different hotels all the time sounds like fun, but when you just wanna do your laundry and you can’t, it gets old really quick.”

“I can imagine.” You make a bold move and rest your hand on his knee. This time when you touch him he doesn’t shrug you away. “I think I may move here. I can home here and you can cook for me all the time, or you could bring me to your fancy parties.”

“Is that so?” He scoots a little closer to you. “It would get some people at the company off my back. They’re always askin’ why I never have a date to anything.”

“And why don’t you?”

“I don’t know, I’m there to work, not bring arm candy with me.”

“Ah, but that arm candy can help you network. I’m impeccable at networking.”

“Alright, so you’ll be my date then when I need one, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” You smile.

“What about when there’s no fancy party? Can I call you for a date?”

“I’d like that.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I please kiss you?”

You nod yes. He leans in, cups your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours. They were soft, just like you remember. He takes them away a little too quickly for your liking though.

“What’s wrong?” You frown.

“I just don’t wanna, like, rush this, that’s all. I don’t even know what this is, but whatever it is, I don’t wanna mess it up this time.”

“Harry, you never messed anything up. We did the right thing before. I think we’re both in a place where we could have room to be together again. But, I think you’re right, one step at a time. Let me actually accept the job and move here before we dive into anything.”

“Exactly.” He sighs happily. “Okay, I’m gonna kiss you again, and then I’ll drive you to your hotel.”

You giggle as he smooches you again and again. Harry never really ever stopped loving you, and you could tell. You never really ever stopped loving him either.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles angst

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villainsblog97 · 3 years

Text

Victon as your Boyfriend

(Hello my sunshines! It's currently 11:30 PM and I'm laying in bed thinking about the types of boyfriends our precious 7 boys would be, so of course I've gotta write about it!!!)

Scenario: Pure, fluff and sprinkles! 🥰

Seungsik

Our brave and fearless leader!

He's the mom of 6 boys! (Seungwoo included)

You're no exception!

Seungsik is always taking care of you

The full mom experience too

We're talking cooking with a pink flowery apron

Always telling you to be careful

He loves movie nights (idk why 🤷‍♀️)

He loves having a blanket over the two of you

You curled up in either his arms or on his lap

You are his baby (along with Subin)

I feel like he would tell you when your outfit is too short or revealing

"Don't you think that outfit is a bit.... short Jagiya?

Other times

"You're not going out like that!" 🤨

He doesn't like arguments

But he doesn't want people touching what belongs to him either

Would definitely be you DD or pick you up when you've been partying with your friends.

Lays you in bed

Sets a tray down with a cup of water and Tylenol next to the bed.

Hangover soup the next morning!

Seungwoo

Seungwoo is that all around perfect boyfriend!

He's always hyping you up.

New outfit?

"OH MY GOD! HOW IS THIS MY BEAUTIFUL BABY!?!?!" 😱

Cooked something?

"YAAAAH! THIS IS DELICIOUS!!!"

He's always complimenting you

Even when you're in sweats, his hoodie and a messy bun.

Boys got hearts in his eyes

Speaking of hoodie...

He loves to see you swim in it!

Because he's so tall

He absolutely hates when you guys fight

He sometimes snaps under stress

Right after, he's pulling you into his arms and holding you

You're his rock

You keep him sane

But every now and then, you just let him break

He loves laying on your stomach or chest as you run your fingers in his hair

Vice versa 💯

Chan

Chan is a switch

Not the way you're thinking either 🙃

I mean he can be either really sweet and goofy

Or very serious and stern

Mostly its sweet and goofy

He loves seeing you smile

You are his pride and joy

But if you piss him off

He's gonna let you know

Like the others, he hates fighting with you

But what couple doesn't

You two usually need a couple hours away from each other

But after you both cooled off you Apologize

I get the feeling he loves back hugs (both giving and receiving)

He loves holding you in his arms

Anytime of the day

In the kitchen, outside, in bed after a long day

You'd be lying if you deny you love it too

I'm just gonna say it

This man loves 10000000X more when he's drunk

He already loves you to the moon and back

But he gets really touchy and clingy when he's drunk

"Baby... I love you so much"

Sejun

My boy! My dork! My favorite!

Y'all already know where this is going

Sejun is an absolute crackhead

So obviously you're gonna have one crackhead of a boyfriend

You literally can't take him ANYWHERE

You love being silly with him too

But sometimes

You feel like you're babysitting more than dating him

He doesn't know your real name anymore

Hes got so many pet names for you

Baby, princess, sweetheart, my love, cupcake, (tried to call you mochi then got really hungry)

Always taking you to restaurants

Because he loves food! (Sometimes you think more than you)

But then he would give that 😮 face and tell you no

He's also a big tease

Never fails to make you blush or get flustered

You're always using his full name to scold him

You two don't fight a lot, but if you do

Its probably because you ate his food

If it's something serious, he wants to work it out IMMEDIATELY

He's always gotta hold you in his sleep

You comfort him

Don't forget the voice that was given to him by God himself!

Hanse

Do Hanse is a whole package deal!

He's the E-Boy you didn't know you needed

He's the dork you didn't know you needed

He's the romantic you didn't know you needed

This man L-O-V-E-S you! 💕

Everything you do puts a smile on his face

He's a Slytherin (you know what that means)

Harry Potter marathons

IN COSTUME! (Wands, robes, plushies, butterbeer, the whole thing)

Fights with him rarely happen

Because he's a pretty understanding guy

They do happen though

You always hug him and apologize for your behavior, or vice versa.

(Gonna get a little PG-13)

Hanse can never kiss you without getting into a heated make out session

It always ends with the bedroom door getting locked (I'll leave the rest to your imagination)

He loves taking pictures of you

And loves being your model (who wouldn't wanna snap some pics of this beautiful human being)

You're a sucker for his tattoos and piercings (don't deny it!)

Byungchan

Byungchan is no doubt the sweetest boyfriend ever!

He loves everything you do

EVERYTHING

He points it out all the time

He loves being next to you

Rather its watching a movie

Cooking

Cleaning

Or just chilling in bed

Byungchan would be hella clingy

But not the annoying clingy

Just when he's touch starved of you

He loves cuddles

He'll pull you into his chest and hold you

He loves playing with your hair

And singing you to sleep

He'll stay beside you until you fall asleep or He'll fall asleep beside you

If you guys have a fight

It doesn't last long

Because he has things he needs to tell you

"Jagiya... can we just forget our fight and go get some Boba???"

You'd laugh and nod before running into his arms

He loves forehead kisses too

He feels like they'll protect you

He whines a lot when wanting your attention

Of course you can't resist him 😂

Subin

I feel like because Subin is the baby

He's a little more shy

Like the first couple of dates, he'd ask to hold your hand

He'd also ask you everytime if he could kiss you

He never wants to overstep his boundaries

He's kind of slow with everything

Like putting an arm around you when you're watching a movie

He likes to test the waters

Fights absolutely kill him

He always shows up in front of you

Puffy cheeks and red eyes

This sight hurts you and you just fall into his arms

He does get these little bursts of confidence and just goes in for a kiss every now and then.

Leaves you speechless, and he'll just stare at you until you ask for more.

His hyungs are always teasing you.

"Yah! You can't have him he's our baby!!"

You're the baby now too 🤭

He just loves you so much (you're his first love)

He doesn't want to mess anything up, and neither do you

#victon #Seungsik #seungwoo #chan #sejun #hanse #byungchan #subin #fluff #kpop scenarios

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kaleidoscopek9 · 3 years

Text

ALRIGHT-

I've had this list of headcannons just sitting in my notes app of my phone and I wanna put it somewhere so 👀

(These are heavily inspired by what I could gather from the skele boys in @bonelyheartsclub! I just threw in a few of my own.)

-----------*

Sans

- Does a LOT of stargazing and has quite a few space-themed knicknacks and clothes in his room. He's got a telescope too!

- Dad jokes. Any time is prime dad joke time. He's never let an opportunity slip past him.

- He's an absolute prank master. You're considered lucky if you happen to avoid the ones he's planted around the house like bombs waiting to go off.

- He's cryptic as fuck. Always giving half-true answers to every question. Occasionally he may slip up and give you a brutally honest response, but that's only with the people he trusts most, and he finds being open to be very difficult.

- He's constantly referencing memes and vine quotes from days of yore. He practically has a database of every meme ever in his head, and he doesnt let it go to waste.

- Cuddling with him is basically a one way ticket to nap-town, and you constantly find yourself waking up to him smooshed against you on the couch after dozing off. For being a skeleton, he is a surprisingly comfortable snuggler.

-----------*

Papyrus

-So much baking and cooking. It's his favorite past time, and the kitchen never smells the same when he's done making whatever he's making in there (it's 12 times out of 10 pasta) And while his cooking may be sub-par, you never say no when he asks you to try his latest dish.

- He's always up to go shopping with you. It never matters where. Malls are his favorite, especially the big grand ones with fountains and huge windows. He makes it a point to bring spare cash because you KNOW he's going to ride the mini marry-go-round even if he can barely fit in the seats.

- You two love to binge watch cooking channels. Always discussing which foods would be the most fun to make, writing down recipies, and having a hell of a time trying to pause the show at the right points to get all the information down.

- Papyrus is notorious for game nights. He's always pulling out boards and cards that you've never heard of before and never starts a game until he's absolutely certain you know the rules. Winning of course, is always his prime goal when it comes to games, but if he senses you're on a particularly rough losing streak, he MAY slip up. Occasionally. Just enough so you can win a game or two. Or five.

-----------*

Blue

- Hyper as all hell. You give him a reasonable dose of sugar or caffeine and he could power an entire city for a few hours without breaking a sweat.

- If he had been in high school, Blue would have been a theater kid. He's always humming a tune from a Broadway show or Disney movie, and he's got a pretty good collection of songs on his brother's Spotify playlist.

- This guy will blast Steven Universe music at full volume he has no shame.

- If you are ever driving somewhere with him, an aux cord is a MUST. Singing in the car is a very frequent thing with you two, and you'll only get out after the song is over.

- He likes cryptids! Mothman is his favorite and he firmly believes he exists somewhere.

- He's your workout buddy. If he manages to drag you to the gym with him, that is.

- Blue hates seeing you down in the dumps, and is always trying to cheer you up with his quirky puns and jokes to get you smiling again.

- He'd be the best motivational poster ever. Whenever he picks up that you're going through a rough spot and falling behind on self-care, he knows just what to say to put the spark back in you again.

-----------*

Stretch

- Radiates goblin energy.

- A goddamn meme lord.

- He's made two or three widely known viral videos and nobody knows it was him.

- You need someone to go to an anime convention with? Stretch is your guy. He's god awful at planning stuff out, but he'll make sure you both have a good time, no matter what happens.

- He's really big into nerd culture, and he DMs for a dungeons and dragons game every week.

- He'll occasionally smoke, but he doesnt have lungs, so he does it more for shits and giggles than anything else.

- As lazy as he seems, he is very reliable. If he knows it's something important to you, he'll get it done. Chores though, he's a lot more iffy with.

- He really likes bees.

-----------*

Red

- Talks big talk, but he's actually a huge softie.

- He's basically a big pillow with sharp teeth that can curse.

- A nervous wreck.

- His brother shops at Hot Topic. He shops at Spencer's. Very convenient.

- He's a pretty big flirt and throws out little compliments and things to butter you up from time to time.

- If you take Red into a Dave and Busters he will win the most expensive prize at the booth in about 2 hours. (He knows how to cheat at every single game)

- He's a competitive gamer, and has a pretty impressive following on Twitch.

- He can go from loud and brash to quiet and insecure in a matter of moments, depending on the situation.

- He loves to bake, although it's something he will never be caught dead doing.

- Comfort is not his strong suit, but he will defend you without a second thought.

- He can be a little clingy and will text you now and again to ask what you're up to, just to ease his mind.

-----------*

Boss

- Professionalism is his game.

- The walking embodiment of Hot Topic.

- He loves to listen to rock and screamo music. He's also got a thing for Disney villain songs.

- You need some punk biker or vampiric goth fashion advice? Boss got ya.

- Skellator Man.

- Out of all the skeletons, Boss has the biggest ego.

- He hates admitting he's wrong. He would rather DIE than admit he's fucked up something.

- "I am not nice-"

- He could kill a man with his high heels.

- If it's got spikes he'll probably wear it.

- Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsu

- Did I mention he's a cold blooded tsundere.

-----------*

Nox

- Small angery man.

- He listens to a lot of classic and instrumental music. He finds it very sophisticated.

- Wakes up obscenely early in the morning. Always followed by a cup of the most bitter coffee on the planet.

- Comes up with the best insults. He could roast someone so hard that they'd dissolve into a pile of soot. He could glare at you and you'd cease to exist. He's that good.

- WILL step on you without remorse.

- Threatens to kill someone on a daily basis.

- Very rarely has spare time for himself. He's always keeping busy doing something.

- Loves dark, dry humor. A child falling off a swing will have him laughing for a good five minutes.

- Has a stone cold poker face.

- He might have a softer side to him. You may never know because of the walls he's built up around him.

-----------*

Rus

- He absolutely adores animals. He volunteers at the local animal shelter and plans on adopting every single dog there.

- Rus has a massive sweet tooth. Donuts are his favorite, and you can easily bribe him with anything sugar coated.

- A road trip master. You put him in a camper and he knows exactly where he's going and what he's doing.

- "Going off grid, fuck yeah- I pull out my credit cards and shred 'em."

- Hiking, camping and geocaching are some of his favorite things to do. He loves to explore the wilderness and it's like he has a built-in compass for finding his way.

- His ideal date is going to a Wal-Mart and causing absolute chaos by riding bikes around and tossing all of the inflatable balls from their displays.

- Cryptidcore energy.

- Rus loves watching Buzzfeed Unsolved and ghost huntings. He's a big fan of Supernatural and Stranger Things, too.

- Stutters and slurs his words a lot. He's got some speech impediments from the gold canines in his mouth.

- A bit lacking when it comes to social skills, but he can be extremely caring and sweet.

-----------*

Ash

- Very soft-spoken and awkward. He doesn't get much social interaction and is still figuring some things out.

- He's very self-aware of the wound in his head. Whenever he has to leave the house he wears some sort of hat to cover it up.

- Practically lives in his garden. He understands plants more than he does human beings, and he spends time daily tending to whatever he's growing.

- Him and his brother are both vegetarians, and the smell or sight of meat makes them both feel sick to themselves.

- Has trouble sleeping due to his reoccurring nightmares. He will often sit in his garden late at night to help calm himself.

- Radiates soft energy. He would absolutely give the best hugs out of all the skeletons.

- Very touch-starved. Physical affection is something he rarely recieves, and he probably lingers with touches a lot longer than he should.

- Unintentionally makes God-teir jokes without realizing it.

----------*

Poplar

- Very well-educated in a lot of things. He really likes stocking up on useless factoids and making up his own just to mess with people.

- He answers Jeopardy questions with concerning accuracy.

- He enjoys going out to eat, and he's always up to try fancy foods.

- He likes photography and reading. He is well into the Harry Potter series.

- Poplar is prepared for anything at any time. A lot of stuff doesnt phase him at all, and it's difficult to catch him off-guard.

- He's willing to try anything new, once.

- Always willing to help out with schoolwork if he thinks you're seriously struggling with it.

- He's always carrying around small planners and notebooks to write in so he can keep track of things.

#long post #headcannons #hc #bhc #bhc headcannons #bonely hearts club #like i said #most of these are from the game #i just have a very specific image of these guys in my head and i wanted to put it down somewhere

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specialagentlokitty · 3 years

Note

Can I get a matchup for twilight please? This is what I look like (I don't care if you chow the photos.)

Age: 19

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bisexual (leans more towards males)

Personality:I don't talk to people I don't know usually and can seem shy but once I get to know them a can be talkative and a little bit loud. I don't really hate people unless they give me a reason too. I don't get annoyed or mad easily. I make dark jokes sometimes there directed to myself. I try to be supportive of my friends but if I know what they're doing is stupid than one will call them out on it. I'm really into the emo style. I do suffer from anxiety and depression, I also am touch starved.

Hobbies: reading, drawing, watching anime/tv shows, writing, painting, going on late night drives, and going on walks.

Likes: anime, art, music, nightmare before Christmas, harry potter, the colors black and purple, scented things, candles, Halloween, fall weather, animals, and fuzzy blankets.

Dislikes: spiders, super hot weather, liar's, blend food, and people who can't clean up after themselves.

Thank you🖤❤

You look really pretty!! And you sound like a really cool person :)

Twilight: Jacob Black

He understands the shyness, he can be quite shy himself sometimes, mainly when it comes to trying to ask you out. As his imprint he doesn’t want to scare you away

Jake also doesn’t mind the loudness when he gets to know you, he’ll be loud with you. As for the jokes directed at yourself, he has the same kind of humour but if one of them worries him he’ll confront you instantly. It will take him a while to get used to this though, so be prepared to be constantly asked if you’re okay st first.

Jakes there to help you through it all, if you wanna sit and binge and anime because you’re having a bad mental health day, he’s in. If you need to go for a drive at night to calm down, he’s right there.

He’ll take an interest in everything that you like, and even try them, and if it’s not for him then he’ll simply sit there with you while you did you hobbies, and he’s also keep trying so he could do things you liked!

Jake loves phycial contact, so he’s more than ready to give you all the love and affection that you want

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magniloquent-raven · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Questions

i was tagged by @cherry-toxic and @gideongrace ty both 💕🥰💕

How many works do you have on AO3?

which is a relatively small number but sometimes im still like, holy shit i finished 15 whole fics lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

68,299 (time to post a 701 word fic and then never post again i guess)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

well this is about to get mildly embarrassing lmfao. ive only got harry potter & stranger things fics on my ao3 and tumblr but if you want a full list, as a teenager i posted a shitty borderlands self-insert fic on quizilla, and hiccup/jack frost fic on ff.net.

and if u count fics that never got finished or published anywhere i dabbled in teen wolf, supernatural, dragon age, star wars, left 4 dead 2, skyrim, good omens, the mcu, buffy, wynonna earp, plus like, general disney/dreamworks crossover fic. and i started writing shameless fics recently, we'll see if i actually finish any. aaaand...i think that's it?

so...15?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Wait for you, Burn for You

2. Find Our Way

3. Something to Hold

4. Room for One More Troubled Soul

5. Don't Know What I'm Gonna Do (About This Feeling Inside)

all harringrove fics except #4, which is probably only on the list because it's been on ao3 the longest lol

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

oh god, i used to. i did when i was starting out, but then i just. i get self-conscious about what to actually say & leave shit to sit for too long. and suddenly ive got like 100 comments i havent replied to and i want to respond to them so bad but ive left them so long i feel weird about it now and it's a problem 😥

i want to start responding to them again, and every time i get a new one i tell myself im gonna but i never do cuz im fuckin awkward lmao

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

i......don't really do angsty endings. like, most of my fics end with smooches and/or love confessions lmao, i don't like leaving things off sad, even if it starts depressing as hell.

maybe this one? it still ends soft but without resolving the thing billy was angsting about, so.

Do you write crossovers? If so what's the craziest one you've ever written?

hahahhha.............i don't really do them anymore, but i already said i was into the whole animation movie crossover thing, so. yeah, i did lol. it was when i was in high school so of course i did one that was like, every disney character ever and they're going to school together. which really isn't that crazy a concept, but it was a lot of movies to write in so maybe that counts

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nahh, not rly. i don't get around enough to attract anti attention lol, tho i did get one of those "👎" comments when someone was going around doing that, which lbr, is so low effort it barely counts 😂

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

yea sometimes. i do get the occasional horny idea lmao. mostly "what if touch-starved character + tenderness" or someone having lots of feelings while they're fucking. someone is usually billy lbr. i've also got a couple "what if someone got tied up and treated right" ideas but i don't think i've actually published any of those lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

don't think so?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i have not

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yea, kinda! a collab with a friend of mine for fun

What's your all time favourite ship?

i...don't know? i get emotionally invested in characters more than the relationships themselves lol. i don't even know what ship i've been invested in for a long time, most of the shit i shipped as a kid i don't give a fuck about anymore lol.

except fuffy, actually. i've always shipped buffy/faith

and if we wanna go with fandom i've actively stuck with the longest it'd be harringrove. cuz ive been here and writing shit for yall for over a year now when i usually would've cycled thru a couple fixations by now lol

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

that's a mean question lmao how dare you. i honestly don't know, i have a lot of wips and i want to finish all of them. i know i won't but there isn't one specifically that seems less likely than the others so idk

What are your writing strengths?

uhhhhh.....i mean i've been told that my characterization is good? like, ppl being able to picture the actual characters when they're reading n stuff, so that's nice. and i could write introspection forever, u don't even know man, i get in the zone. i love getting in a character's head and picking apart their emotional state

What are your writing weaknesses?

writing dialogue really trips me up because i get picky about word choice lmao. i can be writing uninterrupted for twenty minutes cuz it's all a character's inner monologue but the second they gotta speak out loud im sittin there like ok what words sound natural and how much would they be willing to say etc. etc. suddenly it's an hour later and i've written three lines of dialogue. plus i tend to edit as i go so i'm always stopping and going back and rewriting stuff instead of just finishing the damn story

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

no thoughts head empty

lmao for real tho idk? i mean there's that one trope, when someone says nice stuff in a language the other person doesn't speak because they're pining and not sure if they're allowed to say it outright, that shit's cute. im sure all the google translated dialogue has been annoyin as shit for native speakers lmfao but yeah

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

probably harry potter but i literally have no idea. i started writing fic in my early teens and that time of my life is a big fuckin blur lmao

What's your favourite fic you've written?

ngl i think my fav fic is one of the multi-chapter wips i haven't published lmao

BUT. if i gotta pick something yall have read, this one. just a lil guy. plant dad billy and domesticity. it's cute and i like it. maybe also this fic that i wrote for valentine's day. i wrote basically the whole thing in one day and i was really proud of myself lmao, and i just really like headcanoning backstory for billy & that fic is rly just about him growing up, so

tagging @rvspberryjvm @wingedbears @paperbodiesamongthestars @platypan

if yall wanna! 💕

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heyheshi · 4 years

Text

Chipped Tooth

2.2k words

written and uploaded: September 3, 2020

🦋 - fluff

Please like and reblog! Also please don’t post my writings anywhere!

Aren’t these kittens just look adorable! The first cat is Cuddles and the second one is Snuggles! Kinda inspired by the new photo of Harry on a football field.

Masterlist

_________

"Cuddles! Come back here!", you yelled as you run after your 2 month old kitten who's running away from you towards the living room.

You sat down beside her after seeing her on the couch, petting her head making her purr at you, you smiled, "where is Snuggles, huh? Where is he?", you asked your cat as if she was a real person.

Cuddles only 'meows' at you and jumped off the couch and ran off somewhere in the house, leaving you alone in total silence, you sigh.

You started cleaning the living room, picking up multiple cat toys on the carpet and vacuuming it, as well as the couch to at least get rid of the cat furs.

You love your cats, they're just really messy and they needs a lot of time and affection most of the time which is a bit tiring but also a great practice to when you start having your own real babies even though it's not nearly the same.

Harry gifted you Cuddles when she was just a month old for your birthday almost a month ago adding to your small family - together with Snuggles - who is now 3 months old.

Cuddles looks like a toy with its white and gray fur and deep blue eyes. She's a Persian cat, really really tiny and quiet and often chooses to lounge on your bed or couch but she loves being cuddled - hence her name and loves to run away from you and Harry so you can give her some loving. What a brainy little teacup kitten.

While Snuggles is the exact opposite, a Munchkin cat who's very active. He also looks like a toy, he also got white furs but with a touch of brown. As much as he's active, he also loves to sleep but only when he's snuggled to Harry's side - you're not his favorite but you can live with that since he gets along with Cuddles really well - both intelligent cats.

Speaking of your fiancé Harry, you look at the wall clock and realized that he will come back home in an hour giving you enough time to prepare some snacks and clean your bedroom.

You were about to climb upstairs when you lost your balance after seeing Snuggles laying on the first staircase sleeping - you almost crushed him! Thank God you saw him just in time but you fall pretty bad. Both of your feet feels alright but your mouth feels numb, your right palm is on the third step helping you get up.

Snuggles is still sleeping peacefully, you picked him up to bring him upstairs with you - oh and you almost forgot to mention that he sleeps like a human, with his back on the surface he’s laying on! - but you saw something on the stairs. It looks like a broken bead, you look closely to pick it up, not wanting the cats to eat it but it wasn't a bead, it looks like a chipped tooth...

You run your tongue across your lower teeth, then your upper teeth until you felt something crooked making your eyes grow wide in panick.

Grasping "your" chipped tooth with your left hand and Snuggles in your right arm, you stomped upstairs to the master's bathroom after laying down Snuggles on the bean bag near your study table.

You opened all the lights and prayed to God that it's wasn't your tooth - that what you felt wasn't it but as you smiled with your full teeth on the mirror, there's a dent.

On your Central Incisor, you can see the chip and it looks awful in your opinion. You’re not teeth obsessed but you also know that this doesn't look good at all! The chip was in the front!

You racked your head with the possible outcomes and what you can do with it for the mean time. Harry will be home in a few and you gotta think quick.

Then you saw the box of disposable masks on your dresser, took one and wore it. 'It'll work for now', you thought and went downstairs to make some sandwiches for when Harry arrives.

Approximately an hour later, a very sweaty Harry came into the living room, "hey love! Why are you wearing a mask? Did you went out?"

You shake you head, "no, I didn't. Supposed to but I got lazy.", lie.

"Oh alright. Gimme a kiss Y/N!", Harry slowly went to you on the couch but you dodged his arms giggling uncomfortably.

"Later!", you winked at him to hide your nervousness as you stood up, walking towards the kitchen, "I prepared us some snacks."

Harry whined like a little boy as he pouted, "fine! Be like that! But I'm gonna go take a shower, I smell horrible anyway!", he said while walking backwards to keep your eye contact, "but you have to give me a kiss when I came back!"

You shooed him away and yelled "no promises" as you hear him scampered upstairs. You're not gonna lie, you're really embarrassed with what happened but you also know that Harry is not going to judge you but still!

You wait for Harry in the kitchen, not daring to remove your mask and eat the BLT sandwich you prepared even though your stomach is grumbling.

Harry arrived a few minutes later eyeing you down then looking at the meal in front of him, "I can't decide which one I wanna eat first...", he hummed teasing you.

"Oh shut up! Eat your sandwich.", you said as you pushed the plate towards him. Harry only clinked his tongue, strutting towards you, ignoring the food you made for him.

"Kissy!", Harry tried to remove your mask away but you only pushed him back, giggling, "eat your food first!", you said.

Harry crossed his arms on his chest and shake his head, "no."

You laughed at him, "what do you mean no?"

"Do I smell that bad? I already showered! Is that why you don't wanna kiss me?"

Now you feel bad seeing Harry feel down. You know it certainly isn't him but you don't think you can tell him that.

You stood up from your seat and went to him, hugging your fiancé tight, "I'm sorry Bubba...", slowly looking up at him seeing him already looking down at you but not hugging you back.

You only snuggled closer to his chest and squeezing him tight, "you smells good, as always, H.", you whispered not knowing if he can quite hear your with your mask.

"You don't know that!", he protested but pulled you closer to his chest.

"Oh I know..."

Harry kissed your temple while you rocked the both of you, "can you remove your mask now, pwetty pwease?", Harry requested in a childlike voice, "wanna kiss, haven't kissed you since this morning!"

"Don't want to!", you already know that he's pouting before and your reply will make him annoyed with you.

Harry pulled away and turned to the sandwich you made, taking a huge bite, "give me a valid reason."

"It's embarrassing!", you said, already feeling hot but collecting all your dignity to remove the mask.

Harry can sense that something is bothering you so he put his food down and looked at your eyes, "what's the matter love?", you only shrugged your shoulders at his question.

"Can I...?", Harry softly took your head in his hands and run his fingers through the mask making you softly nod your head.

You clasped your lips tight as Harry remove your mask. You know you're being dramatic but you're too clumsy and careless for your age!

"Why are your lips like that?", Harry thinks you're only teasing his so he laughed, pulling on your chin to get you to separate your lips.

"Mhfmfm mhdf!"

"Lovie I don't understand you!", he only laughs harder making you squint your eyes and look at him like you're a tiger ready to eat its prey.

Harry put both of his hands up in defense, "m sorry! I'm sorry!", as he laughs more, his giggles makes you wanna smile but you're annoyed at him.

You took both of your hands to cover your mouth as you speak the next few words, "I smifd mi fodth!", but it still come off as a muffled words.

Harry pulled both of his eyebrows down in a distressed and questioning manner, "you what?"

You removed one of your hand in hopes to speak more clearly this time, "I said I chipped my tooth."

Harry was about to laugh when he saw the serious look on your face, "wait! Really?!", the hot bastard looks excited!, "I wanna see! C'mon!"

"No!"

But Harry wasn't having it, he started to tickle you making you laugh and remove your hand away from your mouth.

'He can see it now Y/N!', you scolded yourself in your head.

"Oh now that's a really cute chipped tooth!", he grinned at you making you feel a bit better, "what happened baby?"

You saw a pen and paper for your grocery list, attempting to take it and just write what happened but Harry interrupted you, "nu uh! It's okay Y/N, it happens to us. I still love you and I think it looks cute. Now tell me what happened.", he playfully demanded.

You're still a bit wary of opening your mouth but fiance's order, "I was going upstairs to clean our room after finishing up the living room...", you started in a small voice to minimize the opening of your mouth.

Harry just looks at you supportingly as you continue narrating to him, "and I was about to take my first step when I saw Snuggles sleeping on the steps, I almost stomped on him but I saw him last-minute so I lost my balance and well this happened...", you looked down as you finished your story.

"Oh well that makes you a great mom! You didn't kill our baby!", Harry joked making you smile a bit, "so that's why our room is a bit messier and that's why Snuggles is on our room now.", he concluded.

You nodded twice, "pretty much. Is he still asleep?"

"Uh huh, and Cuddles was in the living room when I came back down.", Harry explained as he now hugged you from behind.

"I wanna get this fixed babes, you think we can go to the dentist tomorrow?", you looked up at him and he pecked the tip of your nose before answering.

"Of course, I'll make you an appointment but for now let's eat, I'm starving!", you agreed with Harry and took your plate as Harry took his and started descending to the living room.

You plopped down to the couch beside Harry, Cuddles on the center table playing with his stuffed candy toy.

"How was the game? Do you still got it?", you teased Harry, feeling more comfortable and confident now talking to him.

He looked at you and smirked, "are you really asking me if I'm still good at football? Baby I'm great at it!"

"Says who? Says you? The one that sprained his legs when he attempted to kick the ball?", you poked his arms laughing.

Harry swatted your finger away, "it was one time!"

You rolled your eyes at him, still laughing, "yeah sure!", you said and took your first bite on the sandwich, moaning on the taste making Harry smile.

"Oh what a narcissistic!", he sarcastically said.

"Well mister, I make banger sandwiches and we both know that this is what reeled you in when we started dating!", you looked at him accusingly.

Harry laughs, "okay! Okay you're right!"

"I know I am!", you smirked.

He looks at you fondly, "thank you for the sandwich and everything."

You smiled at him but playfully punched him in his right thigh, "oh don't be dramatic now Harry!"

He gasped, "I wasn't!", then looked at you mischievously, putting his arms around your neck and pulling you to him, "Snuggles!", you giggled but snuggled him.

Then the very awake Snuggles came rushing downstairs after hearing Harry's voice and tried to jump to his lap. He probably thought that Harry was calling him!

Harry looked at the Munchkin cat and picked him up, the kitten immediately snuggling on Harry's chest then you heard a 'meow' and you saw Cuddles looking at the three of you, eyes begging for her to get picked up and cuddled too, so you did.

The four of you in the livingroom just cuddling and snuggling each other making you forget about your chipped tooth and your sandwiches.

You looked up at Harry as he looks down at you at the same time, exchanging ‘I love you’s’. You finally kissed him without feeling any embarrassment making the both of you smile during it with your cats on each other's chest.

_____

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panda-noosh · 4 years

Text

the missing part {George Weasley x Reader}

Words: 10.5k

Summary: The trio becomes a pair.

Genre: angst

Warnings: mentions of death - grief - this is also a platonic fic so if you’re looking for some good good romance, you might not wanna waste your time with this one.

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - THIS IS A SAD ONE BOYOS

----

You receive the news shortly after everything happens.

The change to the wizarding world is a physical one. Wizards all over the globe can feel the difference, even though they weren't at the scene, even though news has yet to break of the details describing what really happened that evening in Hogwarts. People are cheering and screaming victory in the streets, because everyone just knows. Everyone is breathing normally again. Everyone is safe.

It's excitement that claws at you first and foremost, because you're stuck in that head space where nothing feels wrong. Voldemort is dead – you know it, the world knows it, everyone is okay. You celebrate with a glass of wine, too absorbed in this massive victory to think of the sacrifices that must have happened to make it happen. For tonight, all you want is a chance to bask in a freedom you have not felt nor experienced in many, many years.

But the euphoria can't last forever. One problem has been taken care of, and now there is room for more to trickle in.

You receive the letter the next day. You wake up from a wine-induced sleep to the sound of the owls beak tapping against your window; you retrieve the letter with a hopeful mind and trembling fingers, because it has been so long since you've received a letter that isn't a warning of the Ministry getting closer to your home, or a newspaper reporting news you do not want to hear, news so false and manufactured it made you start buying The Quibbler just for a real taste of what was happening in the outside world.

You open the letter at your kitchen table, and this is something you will always, always remember, a moment that will forever be locked in your brain due to the trauma – genuine trauma – it swept upon you. Over a glass of milk and a bowl of cereal, you read the words Fred is dead, scribbled in the handwriting of Molly Weasley.

You read it over and over again, just to make sure your mind is not playing tricks on you – you would be less surprised if you suddenly found out your months of isolation had made you gone insane, because it seems most impossible that Fred Weasley is no longer alive, no longer with you, no longer laughing and smiling and brightening up a room with his twin brother at his side.

Through your heartbreak, this thought leads you to the even more heartbreaking thought of the twin that is still doing all those things – George. How his world must have shifted, how he must be feeling. You remember sitting beside him back at Hogwarts, listening to him and Fred speak at the exact same time – back then it felt so weird, and you'd cringe and tell them to stop; now, however, you can barely stomach the idea of not hearing their synchronised sentences.

You write back, asking Molly if there's anything you can do, sending your condolences without making it obvious you are completely and utterly crushed. She replies shortly, saying she wants you there for the funeral, George wants you there for the funeral, Fred would want you there for the funeral.

And you don't want to go. Call it selfish,cowardly, but you don't want to. Standing beside his casket, surrounded by his family and friends, will make it real. When you're huddled in your home, away from it all, it's easy enough to pretend Fred is sat at The Burrow, celebrating the same victory as the rest of the wizarding world, the victory he played a part in.

Nonetheless, you arrive at The Burrow the very next day.

Molly opens the door before you've knocked, having clearly heard the faint pop of you Apparating in her front garden. A gnome runs right for your knees, but Molly shoves it away with her foot before dragging you into a bear-like hug; you can see she's been crying furiously, her eyes swollen, her face having aged a number of years in the space of a day. Her hug, though, is just as you've always remembered it, arms tight around your neck, body swaying slightly from side to side as she whispers unintelligible things in your ear.

She pulls away and holds you at arms length; you can't imagine what she must be seeing. That young wizard she used to babysit is gone now, replaced by someone harder, someone more refined and experienced. She's not the only one who has aged a great number of years in such a short space of time.

“How are you?” is the first thing you can manage to say.

And already the tears are flooding her eyes again, like the question has triggered some memory she cannot fight off. Her lower lip trembles, and she humours you with a small nod before she wraps her beefy arm around your shoulders and guides you into the warmth of a home that should not be able to hold so many people but does so anyway.

There they are – the Weasleys, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, all stood in the kitchen. They're chatting, but the conversation is hushed and it ends as soon as you make an appearance. Harry is the first to stand, offering you his hand for a handshake he is too young for; you roll your eyes and tug him into a hug. He grunts against you, but you don't even care – it has been two years since you laid eyes on the Boy Who Lived, and a handshake will simply not cut it.

“You made it,” Hermione says, approaching you once Harry has stumbled off. She wraps her arms gently around your waist. “How was the trip?”

“Easy enough,” you reply, lips pressed into her hair.

“Where have you been all this time?” Bill asks.

Still holding Hermione close, afraid of letting go lest she takes your composure with her, you say, “I've been hiding. Just a flat in Hogsmeade; a pure-blood owns it. He let a bunch of us Muggle-borns stay with him until it all died down.” You glance at Harry. “You feeling alright?”

He nods. “Just. . . Still tired, I guess.”

You can understand that; though you know the newspapers will never do the scene justice, you were able to gather the basic jidst of the events that took place in Hogwarts only a few days prior – the deaths, the injuries, the horrors so many young kids have seen and will now never be able to erase from their memories.

“Well,” Molly exhales shakily. “I'll get the kettle on. Y/N, you must be starving. How does a bit of stew sound?”

You nod, giving Molly a grateful smile before your mind zones back in on where you are, what you're here for. Instinctively you search the room for any sign of your best friend – the one that's left – and it's not exactly a surprise when you see he is not there. The rest of the Weasleys are – even Percy, who sits in the corner with his legs folded over one another, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a cup of coffee in his hands. He looks up at the feel of your eyes burning into him, surprising you by nodding towards the back door.

You raise your brows, but follow him out nonetheless. Percy and you never truly got on – he was Fred and George's bossy older brother, and that was always what you left it as. Whenever he decided to abandon the Weasley name for the sake of his precious minister, you lost what little respect you had for him.

Now, however, it's difficult to keep that attitude up; the other Weasleys all look exhausted, but Percy looks a little ill, stumbling over the final step the two of you descend. You grab his elbow before he can fall, and he shakes you off in his attempts to pretend he hadn't nearly fallen face first onto the concrete.

He turns to look at you when you're a decent enough distance from the house. “I wasn't sure if you were going to be here.”

“Of course I was going to be here,” you reply, startled by the croak in his voice, as if he hasn't spoken to anyone in weeks. “He was my best friend, Perce.”

“I know. I know he was, but – just – with everything that happened. Mum wasn't even going to send you an owl. She was just going to let you enjoy the celebrations with everyone else. It was Dad who had to step in and tell her you had a right to know.”

Your stomach flips. “Well I'm glad she told me. I'm – I'm glad I can be here.”

Percy nods, looking off into the distance. “Has anyone told you what happened?”

“No. I'm not going to make you relive it if-”

“I was there when it happened. I watched the curse hit him.” His voice breaks, and that drives it home for you; Percy Weasley, usually so composed and professional, is struggling to form a sentence right now. He can't even bring himself to look in your direction.

You step forward and touch his elbow, as if that will cure anything, take away his pain. His eyes close at the feel of your fingers.

“I'm so sorry,” you mumble.

“Yeah,” he replies shakily. “I got the bastard who did it, though.”

You force a smile. “Good.”

“And you know what the most fucked up part of it is?” He opens his eyes and looks at you. “My first thought wasn't even Oh God, my brothers dead. It was Oh God, George is going to be heartbroken.”

Your lower lip trembles before you can stop it, before his words have even properly processed; it's heartbreaking to hear something like that, a blow to the gut you were not prepared for.

Percy laughs, cold and dead. “Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” you choke out. “Yes, I can. Where is George?”

“In his room. He didn't want to see you yet.”

It doesn't even hurt your feelings. You completely understand, considering you're not entirely ready to see him just yet, either.

You glance over at the front door; everyone is beginning to gather round the kitchen table. Arthur pops his head in the window and beckons for you and Percy to hurry up; you give him a thumbs up before whirling back to Percy and grabbing his hand. He starts, eyes widening, but you hurry on before he can say anything.

“What happened to him, Perce? What happened to Fred?”

Percy pauses. “He was dead before he even hit the floor, Y/N. There was nothing anyone could have done.”

You inhale shakily; you cannot cry, not right now, not whenever dinner is being served and his family has pulled themselves together. Percy pulls you into a tight hug when he sees the struggle for peace on your face; you asked for that detail to see if it would help, to see if stripping the mystery from the equation would help you heal a bit quicker, but it doesn't. Now all you can imagine as you walk back into The Burrow, tucked under Percy's arm, is that curse blasting Fred's chest cavity apart, his forever smile fading away for good.

---

The next morning arrives, and you are still yet to see George.

Molly apologises a grand number of times for his absence, but you brush it off every single time – you understand. He's healing. He's suffering, trying to process this just as much as you are. Seeing you after so long apart will only bring back fresh memories, and you don't want to be the reason behind his breakdown.

So you keep your distance, helping Molly and Ginny with breakfast before heading out into the garden to help Ron and Charlie clean up bits of shrapnel that had been left behind from Bill and Fleur's wedding, shrapnel they weren't able to clean up with everything going on.

Charlie keeps the conversation up, forever the chatterbox. Ron humours his older brother with little bits of laughter sprinkled in here and there, but it's obvious he wants nothing more than to just sit in silence for a little while.

As the morning rolls into the afternoon and jobs become scarce, you find yourself walking around the garden on your own. Once upon a time, this used to be the playground for you, Fred and George – three best friends who had nowhere else to go, nothing else to do, an entire summer on their hands. Your parents never outwardly disowned you after you received your letter to Hogwarts, but they were always weary of you afterwards, as if expecting you to snap at any given moment. Their fear gave you an excuse to spend the two months of summer holidays at the Weasley's house, where you, Fred and George would play Quidditch for hours on end, hiding from Molly when you could just tell she wanted you to do a job for her.

The memories come back to you in waves, and it hurts, but you force yourself through it, because you'd much rather remember the good times spent with Fred than sit and concentrate on the fact there will no longer be any more of those good times.

You arrive at the tiny square of grass you used to use as a make-shift Quidditch pitch; George would haul the bins over and enchant them to float high enough in the air that you could trick yourselves into believing they really were Quidditch goal posts. You would always be Seeker, because you were good at that, and Fred and George would play against each other with the Quaffle, yelling insults that had Molly emerging from the house, threateningly waving a wooden spoon in their direction. You could never hear what she was saying from so high up, but maybe that was for the best.

You place your hand on the fence, gazing out at the square, so unused and untouched. A gnome scatters across the centre of it and dives into a hole on the other side; you don't even try and grab it.

The sound of footsteps makes you freeze; after months of being in hiding, any noise you cannot immediately identify has you on edge, though this is something you're trying desperately to combat; Voldemort is dead now – he doesn't have to control your life any more.

“Mum told me you were walking about on your own, you little loner.”

George's voice is like a song. Your favourite song. A song you haven't heard in years, but one you love no less than when you heard it every single day.

You glance at him over your shoulder; he's still in his pyjamas, red hair stuck on end, lips chapped and cheeks sunken. His skin looks pale – paler than it usually does – but he's still smiling when his eyes meet yours. You know it's not real, but you appreciate his attempts nonetheless.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I was just getting a bit of fresh air.”

“Nothing fresh about the air around here.”

“It's better than being inside.”

George shrugs. “I didn't get the memo.”

You hollow out your cheeks, turning back to the field. “Harry told me about your ear.”

“Oh, did he? Did he happen to find it lying about somewhere, 'cause if so, I'd love to have it back.”

“He said you lost it. It got blown off or something.”

George hums. You can see his knuckles tightening on the fence, and you silently wonder if you've perhaps said too much; maybe he doesn't want to talk about that time.

“It was Snape,” George says at last. “Knocked me out cold, so I don't remember too much. Not like I really need to – I've got all the evidence I need of it happening right here.” He turns his head, showing off the hole where his ear used to be. It looks clean, unbandaged, not very painful if his jokes and snide grin are anything to go off.

Nonetheless, your heart skips at the sight of it; yet another moment where George needed your help and you weren't there to offer it.

“Bloody hell, Georgie,” you whisper. “How many girls did you manage to bag with an injury like that?”

George scoffs. “Not many, I'm afraid. Bit of a waste, I think.”

“Definitely.”

It's quiet for a moment. The wind whistles, and the birds chirp, and there's a gnome cursing beneath the dirt, but all you can focus on is the heavy presence of George standing beside you.

Maybe it's not even George's presence you're focusing on. Maybe it's Fred's, because you know he's there. He's always there, making sure you and George don't step out of line or embarrass him, because now it's the job of his two closest confidants to carry on his legacy – Fred Weasley would want to keep an eye on that.

“How are you feeling, Georgie?” you whisper, the silence suddenly too much when you think of Fred standing within it. It would never be silent if he was really here. Never. “How are you really feeling?”

George takes a moment to answer. You glance over to see him nibbling his bottom lip, brown eyes trained on a spot in the garden where yet another gnome has just emerged and is scarping across the field to freedom. “I don't know.” He looks at you. He's taller now, so he has to look down. “What about you?”

You shrug. “I've – I've definitely been better.”

“Yeah.”

“Percy hugged me.”

“He hasn't been taking it well.”

“I can't really blame him, poor git.”

George chuckles; it's not a noise George usually makes, but you don't question it, knowing he isn't really himself right now.

“The funeral's tomorrow,” he says after yet another pause. “I don't know how any of us are going to do it with dignity.”

“Dignity isn't important at a funeral.”

“You know full well Fred would take the mick out of us all if we showed up to his funeral sobbing our eyes out.”

Your lips twitch, the first signs of a true smile you have worn in weeks. “I suppose so. But he's going to have to get over it, isn't he?”

George chuckles. “You tell him, Y/N. You tell him.”

You and George hang around the makeshift Quidditch pitch for only a few more minutes before you start back towards The Burrow; although neither of you want to acknowledge it, you have to get ready for the funeral tomorrow. Things have to be put in place for the small number of visitors who are due to arrive tomorrow morning – Fred, McGonagall, Oliver Wood, some other members of the old Quidditch team. Over the hill, you can see Molly already stressing out over everything that has to be put in place, and your heart aches for her.

“She never slows down, your Mum,” you say before you can stop yourself.

George hums, a fragile attempt at agreement. “Keeping busy helps take her mind off things, I think. It's when she stops that it all crashes down on her.”

“Will she be okay tomorrow?”

“No.”

You're glad he isn't lying. At this moment in time, you can almost pretend it was all a dream; opening the letter, reading the news, having to come to terms with it all. None of it will truly be real until you've looked down and seen Fred's body for yourself, and maybe that's why you're dreading it so much. It's not the idea of seeing him – god, what you wouldn't give to see his smiling face one last time. It's the idea of no longer having that excuse. Once you've laid eyes on his body, any denial you have of his death will just be pitied.

You and George head into the house and go your separate ways. You head into the bedroom you're sharing with Ginny and Hermione whilst George goes back to his own room; you don't think Molly bunked him up with anyone, considering the circumstances, and the thought of him sitting in Fred and George's room on his own makes your heart ache. You have half a mind to turn and go after him, but your plans are foiled when Ginny emerges from the bedroom and smiles warmly at you, despite the puffiness around her eyes.

“Hey,” you say. “You alright?”

“I was just coming to find you,” she replies. “Can we talk?”

Anxiety prickles at your skin, but you nod and follow her into the bedroom anyway. Hermione is nowhere to be seen, though her funeral clothes have already been folded and stacked upon her camp bed, along with a packet of tissues and her wand.

Ginny takes a seat on the end of her bed. You stand by the door, nervously biting your lip as you realise this is the first time you and Ginny have been alone since everything happened. You haven't had a proper chance to sit down with the youngest Weasley and ask her how she is truly feeling.

Keeping her eyes on her freckled hands, she says, “Were you talking to George?”

You tilt your head. “Y-yes. He came down to the Quidditch pitch – oh, uh – the fields, sorry, just to talk.”

Ginny sighs, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes. She's clearly exhausted, no longer even trying to hide it. You have the urge to reach out and hug her, just as you would have done when she was younger, but Ginny has been through so much in the two years since you last seen her; she might not appreciate a hug any more, so you keep your distance.

“And has he gone back to his room now?” she asks.

“I think so. I think he's getting ready for. . . you know. . . tomorrow.”

“He's not handling this well, Y/N.” She drops her hands into her lap, shaking her head grimly. “I know none of us are, but I've never seen George acting like this. The only person he's properly spoken to in three days is you.”

Your heart lurches. “He's grieving, Ginny.”

“We all are! We've all had to grieve before this, too.” She hollows out her cheeks, and it's only then do you spot the tears making their way to the surface of her eyes. “The Weasleys grieve together – that's how we've always done it. We're a family.”

Something inside of you snaps. You dart forward, sitting down beside her and tugging her into your chest. It is there, wrapped tightly in your arms, that she finally lets go, sobbing into your collarbone with a ferocity you've never seen from her – not once. Not even when she used to take a tantrum every time one of her brothers got to go to Hogwarts and she didn't, not even when her cat passed away, not even when she was possessed by Lord Voldemort himself.

She clings onto your jacket, trying to speak but being unable to do so past the sobs. You grip her tighter, stroking your hands through her red hair that hasn't been brushed in days. There are things to say, procedures to take when this kind of thing happens, but nothing you have been taught to say comes to the surface; she's heartbroken, utterly heartbroken, and you know why. Just because you're not sobbing doesn't mean you don't feel the same way.

“Make sure George is okay,” she chokes out. “Please make sure I don't lose him, too.”

You close your eyes, tears slipping from your eyes. “I will, mate. I'll – I'll try my best.”

---

Everyone is here.

You greet them all, because that's what is expected of you. They give you hugs and kisses on the cheek, because that's what is expected of them. Nobody wants to acknowledge the fact that nobody truly wants to be here; to the untrained eye, this gathering of black-clad wizards could very well be some kind of high school reunion.

But it's not.

A high school reunion would hold the air of memories, people rekindling, saying hello after a long time apart. This event holds the air of denial, sadness, saying goodbye to someone taken too soon.

All morning you are busy taking over the jobs of Mr and Mrs Weasley; both of them are too shaky to function, though Molly tries her damned hardest to get out of her chair and do something. She ends up tipping a cup of coffee over poor Harry, and so you and the Weasley kids take over. This means you have barely any time to find George.

He's not around. Ron told you he's still hiding in his room, not wanting to show his face until the very last minute.

“You should go and talk to him,” says Ron, voice wobbling with the effort to keep the tears at bay. “He won't let anyone else in. Mum's tried, Dad's tried, I've given it a go.”

You flick your wand, sending a chair across the grass where it lines up with the rest of them. “What makes you think I'll be any different?”

“He likes talking to you. He only came out of his and Fred's-” Ron's eyes slip closed. He takes a deep breath before starting again. “He only came out of his room yesterday because he heard you arrived.”

You bite your lip, flicking a glance back towards the house; his curtains are still shut. He might still be asleep and nobody would even know.

You sigh, handing Ron the stack of napkins you were given. “I'll go see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You nod and duck into the house, giving Oliver Wood a watery smile which he returns as best he can, hands trembling around a glass of pumpkin juice. You march upstairs before anyone else can see you, heading directly for the room at the end of the hallway.

The glittering sign is still nailed to the door: Fred and George's Room. KEEP OUT!

You wonder how long it will take for George to take that down – if he ever will.

You knock softly and take a step back, folding your hands in front of you. For just a second, there is no answer, not even a call of Who's there? And you force yourself to step forward and knock again, a bit harder this time, lest he didn't hear you.

Again, there is no response.

Heart hammering, you do the last thing you can think of – you tap three times, pause, and then tap again. It's the secret knock the twins used to do on your door when they wanted you to come out with them past curfew, how you would know they were up to no good.

There is a moments hesitation, and then, “Y/N?”

You press your forehead against the door, relief flooding you. “Yes. It's me. Are you okay? Can I come in?”

You pull away from the door just as it opens and George pokes his head out; his hair is still a mess, but he's wearing something other than pyjamas at least. His outfit consists of a white shirt tucked into a pair of black trousers, a black blazer hanging over one shoulder. Fred would be laughing if he could see him now.

George gives you a tiny smile before moving out the way, offering you access. You hesitate, and George notices.

“I know,” he mumbles. “You don't have to if you're not ready.”

But he's been forced to sleep in this room since everything happened. He's had to endure that pain, so you will too. You brace yourself before stepping in, trying desperately to ignore the flip of your stomach, the sudden fight or flight response that is attacking your system at the sight of it all.

The room has barely changed since the last time you stayed here nearly three summers ago. Two beds pressed against either wall, one perfectly made, the other slept in. Posters hang upon the walls of different Quidditch teams you remember they used to be mad over, and thrown in the midst of them all is a new poster you have never seen before – a poster dedicated to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

“Mum made his bed the day we got back.” George's voice is fragile. You glance at him; he's still stood by the door, hands pushed into his pockets as he watches you wade around the room. “Fred never made his bed when he woke up, so she always used to do it for him.”

You nod, remembering those summer mornings when all you could hear was Molly telling Fred off for – yet again – not making his bed.

“Old habits die hard, huh?” you reply, and George hums his agreement. “Ron sent me up here to make sure you were ready.”

George scoffs. His bed springs protest when he leaps onto his mattress. “You can go back down there and tell Ron to have a little patience. I'm fragile today.”

“You are a little late, Georgie. Worryingly late; I thought you'd gone back to sleep.”

George rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. You stand over his bed, arms folded over your chest. “I'd love to, but I'm afraid I have my brothers funeral to attend today.”

You bite your lip. “You know, George...” And this is it. The sentence has started, and George's eyes have snapped to meet your own, waiting for you to finish whatever you have to say. “We're all grieving. A lot. A whole lot. But locking yourself away like this isn't going to help anything. It's not going to make anything easier. Not for you or anybody downstairs right now.”

George stares at you, waiting for the punchline.

“I'm serious.”

He lifts his eyes back to the ceiling, wearing a frown you have not seen him wear in the many years you have known him. Your heart picks up, panic spiking at the idea of upsetting him; he's not going to listen to you, that much is clear. He hasn't listened to anybody else when being told the same thing, so why should you be any different?

“Look, okay,” you hasten to add, “we'll go down there together, alright? You and me. You don't have to do this on your own.”

“I don't want to go at all. I don't want to see him like that.”

You sit down on the corner of his bed and grab his hand, pulling it onto your knee. The tears slip from the corners of his eyes, which he squeezes closed in an instant.

“I know,” you mumble. “I don't, either. Nobody does. But once we've got this funeral out of the way, you're free to mourn however you want. It's over then; Fred will be peaceful, and we can . . . we can move on. We can try and move on. That's what he'd want us to do.”

George's shoulders jerk, a silent sob. Tears of your own flood your eyes. You grab his shoulders and pull him up, pulling him into a hug that reminds you so much of last night, the exact same scene but a different Weasley sibling. You just want to comfort them all; you want to round up each and every one of them and pull them into this embrace, let them know it will all be okay and you will not leave them to suffer on their own, not like last time. You will be there for all of them through everything if they'll let you.

George's arms wrap around your middle. He rests his head on your shoulder, stifling his sobs as best he can; he's better at it than Ginny, who all but wailed into your collarbone yesterday evening. George doesn't want to be seen like this, but it's clear he can't hold back any more.

“It's okay,” you whisper. “It'll be fine. We'll go downstairs together.”

He nods, pulling away slowly. He bites his lip, glances at your shoulder and says, “I got tears on your shirt.”

You shake your head, brushing his hair out of his face with trembling hands. “Don't worry about it. Fred would say it adds flare.”

“He would,” George chokes out. “He really would.”

And so, the two of you stand and head towards the door, hand-in-hand. George hesitates before shutting his bedroom door behind him, and you pretend not to see the way he gently runs his fingers over Fred's name engraved in the metal sign.

You walk downstairs slowly. Heads start turning when you appear in the doorway of the kitchen, George all-but cowering behind you, his hand still in your own. You run your thumb along his knuckles, giving his awaiting family members a smile despite their eyes all being trained on George.

Molly is the first one to run forward. A cry escapes her lips, and you have only seconds to jump out of the way before she barrels through the doorway and into George's arms; George grunts, stumbling before he catches his balance and hugs his mother back with just as much enthusiasm as she is showing. You slowly remove yourself from the scene, letting the rest of the Weasley family file in to mimic their mothers actions.

“So you did it,” Harry says when you find yourself standing at the back of the room with him. “You got him to come downstairs.”

“He just needed some coaxing,” you reply, wiping your eyes. “Is Fred here?”

“Kingsley's just brought his body back.” Harry nods out the window, but you don't follow his gesture because you know exactly what is going to be there; the back garden, chairs all lined up, Fred's casket set up at last. You can only imagine that is the reason the Weasley family is stood inside – they don't want to be around it any longer than they have to be.

But they cannot hold off forever. Arthur and Molly head out first, Arthur with his arm around Percy's shoulders, Molly holding Ginny's hand. Together, the Weasleys take their seats at the very front of the garden, each sobbing quietly into handkerchiefs and sleeves and partners' shoulders. You, Harry and Hermione take the seats directly behind them whilst everyone else files in behind you.

And you see him up there, eyes closed, hair styled, suit perfectly pressed. His hands have been folded on his chest, and his wand has been tucked into his fingers. Standing beside his casket is a picture of him and George – because there is not a picture in existence where the two of them are on their own, not one – and Fred is pulling a funny face whilst George looks off into the distance, oblivious to the photo being taken.

It hurts. It hurts worse than you ever imagined it would, but you can't bring yourself to cry – not whenever his body is right there in front of you. Fred used to chastise you every time he saw you cry, swat you over the shoulder, make some wise-crack comment along the lines of, “What do you have to cry about? You have me!”

You always did have him. You always will have him, as long as you keep his memory alive.

Kingsley says a few words, kind words that speak of Fred's bravery and his knowledge and how he did not die in vain. They sound so official coming from him now that he's the temporary Minister of Magic, but you know for a fact Fred would have appreciated it, scripted or not. Oliver Wood says some things, and Molly and Arthur try their hardest to get some words out about their son, but it doesn't go to plan and they end up just sitting down, passing the baton onto Percy who makes a big, emotional speech about how he and Fred didn't always get along, and how he's glad they managed to find peace with each other during those last few hours of complete turmoil within the Hogwarts castle.

George doesn't make a speech. Neither do you.

The funeral ends with the burning of the body. Kingsley waves his wand and the white curtains fall from nowhere, closing around the casket, and soon, the only thing you can see is the smoke billowing from the top of them. The air suddenly erupts with the smell of black current – one of Fred's favourite scents – and people are standing, giving each other hugs, crying.

You and George stay seated, him directly in front of you. You don't tap his shoulder, don't move, don't say anything at all – you just watch his shoulders rise and fall as he tries desperately to keep his breathing slow and steady. He's staring at his brothers casket like he can't quite believe it's there, and you don't blame him, because you're feeling the same way.

How can a ten minute ceremony be enough to celebrate the life of someone like Fred Weasley? How can a few words passed between people who knew him be enough to remember the wonders he discovered, the joy and laughter he brought upon so, so many lives? It doesn't seem possible. It's ludicrous, completely unfair, and suddenly the sadness you have felt since hearing the news is morphing into anger, and you have the urge to just scream, to just let your lungs rip in half with the fury that rushes through you at a million miles per hour.

But in real life, you're rooted to your seat, fingers curling against the back of George's chair, staring at the smoke rising high, high, higher into the air, disappearing amongst the clouds – Fred's final resting place.

George stands up.

It's so abrupt. It takes you a second to even comprehend what he is doing as his chair tips back against your knees, only failing to fall due to you still being seated behind it. Your head snaps up, mouth opening to call him back, but you don't get a chance to say anything before Angelina Johnson is grabbing you and pulling you to your feet, into an embrace you were not prepared for in the slightest.

“Oh, Y/N, I knew you'd be here! I knew you'd make it! Fred would have been so happy to see you and George back together again!” You laugh awkwardly, watching George march up to The Burrow over her shoulder.

----

George doesn't make an appearance for the rest of the day.

The guests Disapparate, giving the Weasleys some much needed time and space after the exhausting day they have just performed. You, Harry and Hermione head up to bed for the same reason, crowding in Harry and Ron's room for a few hours before you and Hermione excuse yourselves for the night.

Hermione is asleep in minutes, and you can't really blame her. Not only has that girl gone to hell and back these past few days, she's also had to deal with the additional baggage of death. She has fought absolute monsters, seen things no person of her age should ever see, had to think quicker than anyone just to stay alive – and now that it's over, she's been given the additional task of mourning people she loves.

You, however, struggle to close your eyes without the thoughts flooding your mind, making you restless. You keep remembering his body, the tip of his nose peaking out from the casket, the smoke that billowed, the smell of black current that was surely conjured to hide the smell of Fred's burning flesh; god, you want to throw up. You feel ill, and angry, and you want to punch something so, so desperately.

Back in your school days, George taught you how to use Quidditch as a way to get your anger out; he and Fred had been the best Beaters the Gryffindor had ever seen, and they claim it was solely because they got themselves riled up before a game. They would make themselves so angry that the idea of volleying a heavy ball at someone was all that could calm them down again.

That's what you need right now; a good game of Quidditch, a Bludger to just annihilate someone. But you have none of that; all you have right now is your pillow, which you shove your fist into multiple times over now with no results. Your stomach still feels tight, and tears are still threatening to reach the surface, and you're beginning to lose hope that you'll ever feel calm and collected ever again.

The clock has struck four am when you finally give up trying to sleep. You slip your feet into a pair of carpet slippers – courtesy of Hermione – and head downstairs, pulling a dressing gown on as you do so. The kitchen is barren, the sun just starting to peak over the green hills surrounding the cosy cottage. From the window you can see a garden gnome furiously kick a wicket chair before howling in pain and bouncing back into the floor to go and huff on its own.

You head outside. The fresh air feels nice on your skin – cold, but it's enough to bring you back to reality a little bit. You walk across the garden, and before you know why, you're sitting down in the very same chair you sat in whilst watching people talk about your dead best friend, like you want to relive that moment all over again.

But this time you're on your own. It's just you and the chairs, and the odd garden gnome that sprints across the grass, sees you and then sprints in the other direction. You fold your legs over one another, stare at the space Fred's casket once stood, and then you start speaking.

“Miss you, buddy.” It starts as a whisper, hoarse and fragile. “Thank you, for everything. Fighting for the sake of the world – you're braver than me. I couldn't have done it. I was – I was hiding away in my flat, pretending nothing was happening, convincing myself you two weren't stupid enough to get yourself into any danger.” You close your eyes, tilting your head back, talking directly to him now. “Nothing feels right any more, Fred. The world isn't meant to be without a Fred Weasley. George isn't meant to be without a Fred Weasley. God, I'm not meant to be without a Fred Weasley.”

The tears start trickling, running quickly down your cheeks and disappearing within the corners of your mouth.

“I'll make sure he's okay, Freddie,” you whisper. “George, I mean. We'll keep each other sane, I promise. You can watch over us and – and make sure w-we keep each other in ch-check. I won't let him out of my sight ever again.”

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps up, eyes opening. Standing in the pink light of the slowly rising sun is George Weasley, wand in hand, still dressed in the very same clothes he was wearing earlier. His tie has been pulled loose from its knot and is now cascading messily down his middle, a few of his buttons undone, his hair back to being a disgruntled mess.

You stand up. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“You sound like Filch.” He tilts his head to the side, just enough to let you see the bags under his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You awkwardly kick at the ground. “Nothing.”

“Mhm.” George walks over, examining each of the chairs as he does so. “You were talking to him, weren't you?”

You don't reply; he knows. You don't feel a need to confirm it for him, not when he probably heard every single thing you said.

“I can't do it,” he continues. “It feels weird not having him say the exact same thing as me. My voice isn't meant to be on its own.”

“Yeah,” you croak out. “I noticed that, too.”

“I'll get past it,” he mumbles. “I just. . . I just wanted everyone to leave today, you know? I didn't want all these people in my house, staring at my brothers dead body, crying over him like that. This was supposed to be a family event.”

A tinge of guilt stamps an imprint into your heart. “Right. Should Harry, Hermione and I have left?”

George purses his lips. “You guys are family – it's everyone else I was a bit iffy with.”

And maybe it's the anger from earlier that boils over now. Maybe it's the reminder that George left – halfway through his brothers funeral, he got up and left his family, his grieving family, to deal with everything. You know he's upset, heartbroken, downright traumatised, but so is everyone else. Nobody is taking this lightly. Nobody was here today just for the sake of it.

You curl your hands into fists. “George, you're being really selfish right now.”

His head snaps up. “What?”

“How can you sit there and say you wish those people who came today had just stayed home? Do you think they wanted to be in this situation any more than you did? God, You-Know-Who was killed a few days ago – people want to be out celebrating their freedom, not going to the funeral of one of their friends. None of this is easy on anyone, so it's really bloody ungrateful of you to say they should have just stayed home, because I'm almost positive that's what most of them wanted to be doing in the first place!”

George's eyes cloud over. “Fred wouldn't have wanted the Ministry taking over his funeral.”

“Kingsley knew Fred just as well as I did!”

“No he didn't! You and Fred were best friends – Kingsley was part of the Order. That's how he knew Fred – through business! That isn't a bloody friendship!”

“So, what? Kingsley should have just moved on, walked away whenever he looked down and saw Fred's body that day in the castle, huh? Because god forbid somebody grieve if they don't know someone for more than seven years!”

George throws his hands in the air, face beaming red. “You're putting words in my mouth now, you are. You know that's not what I meant-”

“Yeah? Well, maybe you should learn how to word things better, because at the minute you're sounding like an absolute arse!”

George opens his mouth to respond, but you're crying. You're crying, and you can't stop it, and you don't want him to see you like this. You dart off before he can get the words out, cracking your shoulder against his before picking up your pace to a run, darting back towards the house. Behind you, George calls your name, but you don't listen. You shove past Charlie, who stands in the kitchen door with a mug of coffee, and head directly to your room, not wanting to talk to anyone.

---

Charlie comes to visit you a few hours later.

It's eight o'clock now; Hermione has risen, said good morning and headed off to help Mrs Weasley make breakfast. You stayed huddled under the covers, using the excuse of exhaustion as a way to get her to leave without worrying too much; as soon as she was gone, you had pulled yourself from your bed and headed to the window, where you have been for a while now, dreading the moment you will have to go downstairs and face George again.

Charlie knocks softly on your door before letting himself in. He's wearing a pair of grey sweatpants this morning along with an oversized jacket. His skin has been paler since he came home from Romania, since his little brother died, since it felt as if his world was falling apart. This morning, he looks a bit better, as if the relief of having finally set Fred free was a weight from his shoulders.

“Morning,” he says. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. You?”

He closes the door and walks to your side, placing his head against the wall as he, too, takes to gazing out the window. “I'm good. Better than I was yesterday. Worse than I'll probably be tomorrow.”

“What a Charlie way to answer that question.”

He smiles before nudging your arm. “You gonna talk to me about what happened this morning?”

You purse your lips and look away. Charlie gazes at you, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you don't really know what he wants to hear – that you're sorry? That you were tired and heartbroken and it just kind of happened all at once, a jumbled mess you couldn't quite keep track of?

That's not what it was at all. It was the truth spilling from your lips, though you will admit you now wish you could have executed it with a little bit more sympathy. George, the man who has been your best friend for so many years, didn't deserve that kind of treatment – not after everything. Not when there's still so much more to come.

Charlie sighs, folding his muscled arms across his chest. “You know George loves you, right?”

“And I love him.”

Charlie pauses, contemplative. “I just – I don't know what you two were arguing about, but I think it would be a real shame for George to lose two loved ones, which is what is going to happen if you don't talk to each other. Do you want to cut ties with him?”

Your head snaps up. “No! No, of course not. Look, Charlie, the argument wasn't even that serious. We just-”

“If it wasn't that serious, then why did George punch a whole in the dry wall when I tried to ask him what happened?”

You pause, mouth running dry. Charlie raises a brow, leaning against the wall. Your voice is quiet when you say, “He did what?”

“He punched a hole in the wall. Tried to punch me, too.” He sighs. “Obviously, a scrawny little git like him compared to me didn't get very far, but it was the intent that shocked me; George hasn't got a violent bone in his body. Not a properly violent one, anyway – a few dangerous pranks here and there, but he would never want to genuinely fight someone. I think this whole thing is getting to him – and bad. The only time he's been calm is when you've been in his bloody eyeline.”

“He tried punching you?”

Charlie waves a dismissive hand. “That isn't the part of that speech I wanted you to pick up on.”

You close your eyes, pressing your head against the window. “I lost my temper, started an argument with him for no reason. I should have realised he's not in the right head space – he isn't talking right, Charlie. He isn't himself.”

“Well, no, I wouldn't say he is.” Charlie leans forward. “But right now, the only person getting through to him is you. How I see it, you're the only person who's going to drag him through this before he hurts himself or somebody else.”

“That's a lot of pressure, Charlie.”

“Has it been difficult talking to him since you got here?”

“No.”

“Then you're fine. Just keep doing what you're doing.” Charlie stands up straight, brushing his hands down his jacket as he does so. “Mum said breakfast is gonna be ready in a few minutes if you're feeling hungry. If not, don't tell her that or she'll be up here in two seconds flat with the thermometer out; she did it to Ron a few days ago, gave him a right telling off when it turned out he just wanted to stay in bed for a bit longer.”

You nod, giving him a warm, grateful smile as he walks out of the room.

You give his words thorough thought; though your brain is no less exhausted, and your heart no less broken, you can see where you went wrong now better than you would have been able to at four this morning; Charlie has helped you realise that perhaps everyone needs to be a bit patient with each other right now, needs to learn how to put themselves in other people's shoes.

You get changed and head downstairs. Sure enough, breakfast is already being served, and everyone besides George is already sitting round the table. You take a seat next to Hermione and tuck in, trying to regain some energy sapped due to your lack of sleep.

Once breakfast is finished, you head straight to George's room. Charlie gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up when he turns away from the washing up basin and sees you heading upstairs; you give him a smile, though a nervous one.

You have to do this now. You have to talk to him, tell him you're sorry, explain yourself a bit better than you did earlier, and if you don't do it now, you're going to back out and you won't ever do it. And so, you reach his door and do the secret knock that granted you access yesterday, and you wait.

There's a shuffling on the other side, followed shortly by George's soft voice calling, “What?”

“Hey, mate. Can I come in and talk to you for a minute?” You wince at how formal you sound – this is George you're speaking to, your best mate, the person you've grown up with. “Please?”

“You're just gonna tell me off again, aren't you?”

“No, George, don't be daft. Open the bloody door, or-”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” The door opens, revealing the exhausted looking George. He isn't smiling, but instead keeps his eyes narrowed when he looks at you. “Do you wanna come in, too?”

“Yes.”

“You don't ask for much, do you?” He rolls his eyes and steps out of the way, granting you access to the room that still sends eerie chills racing along your arms, because Fred is no longer occupying it, too.

You push these thoughts from your brain and enter, immediately spinning around with your arms folded. “Our argument was stupid.”

George falters, one hand still secure round the doorknob. “Come again?”

“Everything I said to you was stupid, and said in a fit of blind rage. I didn't mean it. Not really.”

“Right...”

“So, yeah.” You nod, glance around the room once before saying, “That's all I wanted to say.”

“Is it now?”

“Yes. I'll see you at lunch if you fancy coming down for a bit of food. If not, I'll – uh – see you when I-” You try to step around him, but he's quicker, blocking the door. You bite your lip. “George-”

“Nothing you said earlier was wrong, you know.”

You lift your eyes, and the tension in the room suddenly becomes a physical thing. He's staring down at you, that exhausted look in his eyes that he's worn for weeks pushed to the forefront. His lips are still chapped, and his knuckles are white around the handle of the door. You want to push his hair out of his face, but you're scared he'll push you away or cringe from your touch if you even try.

“I was being a selfish little git when I walked off, and I should have been – should have been thankful to have so many people come out to send Fred off. He would have liked that, I think, having a crowd around him.”

You laugh softly. “He always did enjoy the attention; you both did.”

“Oi.” He nudges your shoulder. “You were part of our group, you know. You liked the attention just as much as we did.”

And he isn't wrong. So many pranks, so many years of getting into trouble, so many years filled with laughter. When it felt like the world was falling apart, when your parents stopped talking to you, stopped asking you to come home for Christmas, stopped sending you owls – it was Fred and George who reminded you that you didn't need anyone. You were perfect on your own.

“I agree that our argument was stupid,” he says softly. “But you were right.”

“I shouldn't have made you feel bad-”

“You could never make me feel bad. Not with a voice like that.”

You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder. He laughs, stumbling back into the door. You realise with a jolt that this is the first time you've heard him laugh since you arrived at The Burrow, and it seems as if George is realising this too. His smile fades uncertainly, as if he's not allowed to let himself laugh, not allowed to let himself smile when Fred isn't around to join in.

You tilt your head to the side. “Well that's a step in the right direction.”

He closes his eyes. “I haven't had the chance to tell you how happy I am that you're here.”

“Of course I'm here. I would never miss-”

“No, I know.” He opens his eyes and shrugs. “I'm glad you're here to – like – mourn Fred and all that, but I'm glad you're here for me. Most people would have given up on me by now. Nobody would have bothered putting me in my place.”

You shudder, can hardly help it when you're hearing him speak like this; it's so weird, so not what you're used to, but it hits a nerve nonetheless. You have the sudden urge to throw your arms around him, to pull him in for a hug that means more than just It's going to be okay.

“I'm a complete state when you are here, but I wouldn't even function if you weren't,” he continues, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “Everyone's told you that already, though, haven't they?”

You bite your lip to suppress the giggle. “I've heard I've been a good helping hand.”

George rolls his eyes. “Don't let it go to your head. No one likes an arrogant bastard.”

Your grin breaks to the surface before you can stop it. It feels weird upon your face after spending so long believing you would never smile again, and yet with George stood in front of you, it couldn't make more sense. You're brought back to your Hogwarts days, when this very smile would never leave your face, was a permanent fixture to your expression. And it doesn't feel like you're back there – it will never feel like that again, not with Fred missing – but it's a start. It's the first step back into the normal world.

Looking up at George's smile now makes you feel like you're walking back into it, slowly, with George by your side.

----

“So what's the point of all this then?” you ask, struggling to fight your way through the crowd of screaming school kids.

George moves with such grace, not even pausing when a group of kids nearly bowl him over in their struggle to reach the Pigmy Puff pens on the other side of the shop. He's grinning from ear to ear as he walks, his fancy, dragon skin blazer billowing out around him.

“This, my dear Y/N, is what Fred and I have built from the ground up – and we're about to take it to the next level.”

You raise a brow at his back. “Oh?”

“Oh, indeed!” He hurries up a flight of winding stairs and stops at the top. He spins and smiles at you, pulling a sheet of paper from his blazer pocket with that dramatic flair you love so much. “Have a read of this and tell me how proud you are of me, right now. Quickly!”

You roll your eyes, snatching the parchment and unrolling it. At the very top are the words Dear Mr and Mr Weasley, followed by the announcement that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes will be opening a shop in multiple areas around England and Northern Ireland.

Your eyes widen, snapping back up to George who is staring at you fixedly, waiting for your reaction. You don't even have words. All you can do is stare at him, jaw open, hands beginning to tremble.

George glances at your shaking hands and laughs, rushing down the steps towards you. He snatches the parchment back and bundles you in his arms, laughing brightly into your hair.

“Don't show too much excitement, Y/N, we're in public!”

“George Weasley, you brilliant old git!” You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest, and together, the two of you laugh – you just laugh, unable to fully process that this tiny little business Fred and George have always dreamed about will finally be taking off, dotting itself around the globe for wizards everywhere to enjoy.

You pull away from the celebration and yank the parchment back, giving it yet another read. “Mr and Mr Weasley – you and Fred?”

“Of course,” George confirms. “I sent the request letter in using both of our names – it didn't feel right just signing it with my name and my name only. Fred would kill me if I did that.”

“Aye, it's better not to take the risk. I'm still convinced he's punishing me for ordering that BBQ base pizza the other night.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

You reread the contract over and over again, grin getting wider every single time. It gets to the point where George groans and has to pry it from your hands, getting tired of watching you read the same sentence over and over again.

You look at him and shake your head. “It's so cool that I'm able to say my best friend is a businessman. A real life businessman.”

George cocks a brow. “You're gonna use me to make yourself look good, are you?”

“You still owe me for that time I got you out of detention with Umbridge – it's the least you can do.”

George laughs, bundling you in his arms again. “Just remember to mention Fred when you're giving us the good reviews – he'd appreciate it.”

And you know, somewhere out there, Fred is nodding, saying, “You've done a brilliant job, Georgie.”

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padfootagain · 4 years

Text

Girl Crush (XXV)

Chapter 25: A Merry Sunflower

Here we go with a new chapter! This is disgustingly sweet. Tooth-rotting fluff. Even I am feeling all giddy and sweet because of it. So read at your own risk, this is just too fluffy!!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think about it!

Word Count: 2547

"That's an abuse of our friendship, plain and simple."

The way you rolled your eyes was almost audible, he didn't need to turn around to know about your gesture.

"Dramatic as always," you replied, dipping the brush inside the bucket full of this pale pink, almost white shade you had chosen for the doorframes of your shop.

"I should be writing my next album, and instead, I have been up since 5am for a week and painting all day!" Harry argued, gesturing around in the vague direction of the wall he had been painting, as if to prove his point. "My arm hurts so much…"

You let out a happy laugh.

"I'm not joking! It hurts," Harry replied, faking outrage, when it was hard for him to hide his smile.

Your laugh always made him feel happy and his heart grow all warm and soft. He tried not to feel this way, a little voice in his head pointing out that you weren't single, but he shushed it for now.

It was a happy and sunny day in L.A. You were painting your soon-to-be flower shop together, just the two of you, taking it slow and spending more time giggling and joking around than getting actual work done. And for a moment, Harry allowed himself to forget about this guy you were seeing, about the fact that his feelings for you had changed in a way that made him feel guilty. Instead, he pushed all his worries aside and decided that he would enjoy that day as much as he could, making sure to treasure every minute he would spend with you.

And so far, he had.

"I'm also starving," he pointed out, and as if to agree, your stomach made a weird noise that made both of you giggle.

"I have to agree for that one. Let's take a break. Pizza?"

"You've read my mind," he grinned, throwing the paint roller in his bucket and heading for the door already.

You had installed a little wooden table and a couple of chairs outside already, where you would soon be putting flowers and plants. The front of the building had been renovated as you had asked, and the sign above the door was to be finished the next week. The partially-painted letters already had a shape that was defined enough for the name of your future shop to be read.

Sunflower and Peonies.

Soon enough, the place would be full of them, and dozens of other kinds of colourful plants. Your dream was becoming reality, so much so that you could almost touch it.

For now though, Harry and you had taken the habit to eat lunch there, in the street, watching cars drive by and children running around. In the early afternoon, there weren't so many people around, most of them coming and going from or to the beach only a few streets away. You could almost hear the rush of the waves moving across the ocean, and the air smelt of salt and cloudless skies.

Harry went to pick up some pizza a few houses up the street, and came back just as you were opening some apple juice and filling up two glasses.

He had taken your favourite pizza, as always; had not needed to ask you for your order. He just knew you that well that it was a natural behaviour by now to order everything you liked most.

"You were complaining about staying away from the studio because of me, how is the writing going?" you asked, settling down around the table.

"It's going okay," he nodded with confidence. "We have a few good ones, I think. I can't wait for it to be over so you can hear it too."

"I can't wait to listen to it. But can't you give me a snippet, at least?"

He shook his head no, his mouth filled with food.

"Nope! Nothing! You will not hear anything before it's all ready and perfect."

"I'm your best friend!"

"I'm your best friend too, and you use me as free labour to renovate your shop, so don't give me that argument!"

You both exploded with laughter. The sun felt warm on your skin as you threw your head back with your laugh.

"It's not my shop yet. It's quite far from the big opening still," you reminded him, but he shook his head.

"You've come so far. It's a matter of a couple of months at the most. You're almost there, Y/N."

"I couldn’t have done it without you."

Your voice was earnest, but he shook his head.

"It's your baby, I have nothing to do with that. I mean… besides the handywork now."

"No, you're wrong. You've always made me believe in myself more than anybody else ever has. You're the one who lifted me up whenever I doubted myself. I reckon that I would have given up a long time ago if you hadn't been there to make sure to keep me on the right path."

He gave you a tender smile.

"I wouldn't be where I am today without you either, you know? You've kept me on track too."

He raised his glass full of apple juice to toast.

"I guess we're just an amazing pair of friends," you laughed.

"I guess."

Your glasses made a little 'cling' sound as they met, and you both drank a gulp of the fresh beverage while a bunch of surfers were walking before the store.

Harry leaned back in his chair, his old Rolling Stone t-shirt stained with dots of white paint hugging his torso a little too tightly. He stretched his long legs and brushed his brown strands out of his face. And the sight of him relaxing by your side made a smile creep up on your lips without you even noticing your own gesture.

"How many songs do you have ready for the album?" you asked, taking another slice of pizza.

"Not enough," he laughed.

"Come on, you can at least give me the name of one of them. Come on! Or who the songs are about! Harryyy!" you whined, making these puppy eyes that you knew he could never resist to.

But he mercilessly shook his head. Or at least, that's what he wanted you to believe. In reality, his will was slowly breaking.

"You're so cruel! You know everything about my project and I know nothing about yours! Come on, tell me one thing!"

He stared at you and he really, really tried his hardest to not reveal anything. But your eyes were so bright in the warm sunshine, and you looked so… perfect. Carefree. For once, you didn't seem worried about anything. You just seemed… happy. And he couldn't say no to you and take the risk to make your mood get a little less merry. So, he heaved a sigh, giving up.

"I… wrote one about you last night," he admitted.

You raised a surprised eyebrow.

"About… me?"

"Don't act so surprised."

"I am surprised! No one's ever done this for me before."

"I've never said it was the first song I wrote about you," he replied with a frown.

You looked at him with wide-eyes.

"Really? You have? Which ones?"

He suddenly realized that it might not have been the best idea he ever had to mention that he had been writing love songs about his best friend for a long time…

"I mean… you're my best friend. I take inspiration in things you do and things that you are and… like in a lot of other things," he replied, trying to sound more casual than the situation truly was.

"So… just… not really about me just… situations we were in?"

"Umm… sometimes."

"What is it called?"

"Hmm?"

"The song you wrote last night about me, what is it called?"

He couldn't refrain a tender smile.

"Sunflower vol.6."

You grinned, looking up at the name of your future store.

"What is it about?"

You. It's about you and what I wish we could have. Kisses in the kitchen and bright flowers all around…

"It's about… I don't know. I just went home from your shop last night – after you've made me work all day long – and I wrote it. So… I guess it's about you."

"I can't wait to listen to it," you grinned.

Your smile was so bright, Harry was certain that it could outshine even the Californian sun.

The pizza was gone by now, and you took a moment to merely enjoy the warm beginning of the afternoon. A comfortable silence settled around the two of you, like a large cocoon.

Your hands on the table were mere inches away, and it seemed that they had been slowly drifting towards each other for the past few minutes. When you realized how close your fingers were from his, your first instinct was to reach out to touch them. Harry had taken his rings off to paint, and for once his fingers rested bare on the wooden surface. The cross tattooed on his hand was bathed in sunlight.

But just as you were about to reach out, you thought better of it. All of a sudden, the simple gesture made you feel… guilty.

Why though? He was your best friend, had been for years. It wouldn't mean anything to hold hands. Why was your heart rushing at the thought of intertwining your fingers with his, then?

"We should go back to work, or you'll complain that I make you go home too late again," you said, standing up too fast making your head spin, your feelings a little overwhelming all of a sudden.

He dramatically moaned, throwing himself across the table and grabbing the edge.

"Noooooo!" he whined, almost like a little child. "I don't wanna!"

You couldn't help but laugh.

"Come on, drama queen! The sooner we go back to it, the sooner we'll be done with it."

"Noooooo!"

You stood by his side, and tickled that one spot on the side of his ribs that never failed to torture him, and he burst into laughter at the first contact, jumping away from you and crossing his arms to protect himself.

"That's so unfair!" he protested, narrowing his eyes at you, which wasn't really convincing considering the bright grin plastered on his face.

The sight of his dimples made your own lips curve into a smile on their own accord.

"Come on! Back to work!"

"You are so cruel. And so bossy! Since when are you bossy like that?"

"Since I'm about to become an actual boss! I'm my own boss now! An entrepreneur!"

Harry opened the door for you, and bowed down before you, making you laugh.

"After you, then, my lady!"

You cleaned up the table outside, and were soon back at painting. You were working next to each other, Harry painting the wall and you decorating the window frame with a pastel shade of blue.

But there wasn't so much done on Harry's part. Because instead of painting, he kept on being distracted by how the sun, coming in through the window, illuminated your features. How it made your eyes glimmer, and it seemed to embrace the shape of your lips, and for a moment, Harry was jealous of even the sun.

He shook himself when he reckoned he had spent too long studying the way you slightly frowned as you focused on the task at hand.

But he figured that you were too serious. Way too serious in such a sunny and happy afternoon. So, he dipped his brush in the bucket of paint again, and drew a line on your arm, making you jump.

"What the hell are you doing?!" you squealed, moving your arm away.

But Harry didn't reply. Instead, he approached the brush again, slowly, with mischief painted all over his features from his sparkling green eyes to the smirk on his lips.

"Don't you dare!" you warned him, trying to sound serious, but a smile started to make its way across your face too. "Harry, don't you fucking dare!"

The next second he was jumping forward and putting paint all over your cheek. And of course, you retaliated, and you were both laughing and crying and struggling to keep the other at bay.

Which one of you tripped and pulled the other to the ground? You didn't know, but you both found yourselves on the floor all the same, still painting all over each other, still laughing so hard that your tummies ached and tears wet your eyelashes.

"Stop! Stop, please! Stop!" you begged as you tried to crawl away from Harry. "Stop! I give up! You win!"

"I win?"

"You win! Harry, stop! I can't breathe!"

He finally released you, putting his weapon away, and he lied down by your side on the cool floor.

It took the two of you a while to catch your breaths. When you turned to him, Harry had a large blue line running across his nose, left cheek and neck. He also had paint in his hair, and all over his arms and hands. His t-shirt was a mess too. You looked just as messy and happy as he did.

You took a moment to look at him. To let your gaze linger on the veins running up the side of his neck, and the way his hair fell all over the place, and the curve of his eyelashes, and the strong angle of his jawline. Until he turned to you as well, trapping your soul in his green eyes.

And you wished that you could look away but you couldn't. He was grinning at you, and you grinned back, because you couldn't do anything else. You couldn't do anything against his stupid dimples, and the ridiculous paint over his nose. His smiles always made you want to copy them.

And all of a sudden, as you were simply staring at him like this, all covered in paint in the empty room you had yet to turn into the shop you dreamt of, you realized that there was no one you would want more to be with you then. You were building your dream, watching it come alive, and there was no one you would rather have by your side to make it come true.

But you were with Gareth, you said you loved him, shouldn't you have wanted him to be there with you instead of Harry?

Maybe you should have. And yet, it wasn't the truth.

Harry was by your side as the most important part of your life unfolded, and it was all that mattered to you.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You're never going to leave me behind, right?"

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Of course not. Where would I want to go without you anyway?"

"I don't know… ahead?"

But he shook his head, staring at you as he made a promise he knew he could never break.

"I'll always be here for you, Y/N."

You exchanged a bright smile.

"I'll always be here for you too, Harry. You know?"

"I mean… you're my best friend. It's in the job requirement."

On the brushes all around the room, the paint dried to the sound of your laughter.

************************************************

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atlafan · 4 years

Note

Maybe for a non brits blurb you could write something about getting to know Harry and like going from friends to something more with him? I feel like it’s overlooked but i know I would be flipping out given his dating history and general aura of power. He just seems low key intimidating to date if that makes sense.

a/n: this was me laughing when I read this. We love a good friends to lovers fic baby!! This is gonna have some nice cliches to keep us warm on this cold ass February evening. Okay this ended up being way longer than I thought. (fluff and a wee bit of smut towards the end.)

Getting Social

You had hit the jackpot. Social media was your passion, and after having low paying job after low paying job, a friend of yours in the PR world had connected you with Jeff. Harry Styles barely used his social media anymore, and when he did, his fans went into a frenzy, like over a simple tweet of the word “DO”. There was no deeper meaning to this, other than that he was half asleep trying to tweet something entirely different.

Jeff wanted to hire someone to handle Harry’s social media full time. Someone to post coherent thoughts and photos for him. His fans really missed having this more personal reactions. Instagram was a little easier to run, as Jeff had given you an array of photos, and a schedule. But tweets were typically on the fly thoughts. When you interviewed for the position, you didn’t think you’d ever actually meet Harry.

After you were hired, you were called for a meeting with Jeff and Harry. You were extremely nervous to meet the star. You weren’t a crazed fan or anything, you just knew he could come off as extremely intense. It was the way his brows would furrow that made you the most nervous. However, you pulled it together, and shook his hand politely when he entered the room. You were dressed in a red blouse, and long black pencil skirt. You wanted to look as professional as possible.

“Y/N, we’re so happy to have you on the team. Your work speaks for itself.” Jeff says.

“Thanks, I’m happy to be here.”

“Nice to meet you.” Harry says.

“You as well.” You smile, he smiles back.

“We just wanted to go over how all of this would work. You said you were fine with traveling?”

“Yes, no problem with that. I’m not tied down to anything here. Family lives hours from here anyways.” You shrug. Jeff and Harry look at each other, then back to you.

“No significant other?” Harry asks.

“Not at this time, no.”

“Well, that’ll definitely makes things easier.” Jeff says. “We’ve tried to hire for this position before, but the traveling can get to be a lot when you have someone waiting for you, or even a family of your own.”

“I love traveling, so it’s really no problem.”

“Great.” Jeff continues. “We loved your thoughts on the tweets, and you were absolutely right. Instagram can be a much more planned out endeavor, but Twitter is really about quick thoughts.”

“I was also thinking we could post more on his story?” The two furrow their eyebrows at you. “I know location privacy is very important, so we could turn all of his location info off. We could also post like after he’s in a particular place. We could share fan photos too..just so they know he still cares. We could do like fan photo Fridays. Just an idea.” The two look at each other again, then back at you.

“S’not a terrible idea.” Harry says. “And feel free to address me directly, Jeff doesn’t make all the decisions, love.” You blink at him, and nod. “I guess as long as I knew my location wouldn’t be compromised we could do a little more of that. How do we tackle the tweets?”

“Well, I was thinking I could just go on and retweet more? Maybe even just liking more stuff that doesn’t necessarily have to do with promotion? Your Twitter looks so robotic, it’s no fun.” You say bluntly. “Social media is supposed to be fun. I know everything you say gets all turned around, but some natural responses would be good. I mean, and sorry if this is awkward, but look at what Niall’s been doing to promote his album.”

You pull up Niall Horan’s twitter on your phone, and show Jeff and Harry. After a few moments of scrolling and smirks, they hand the phone back to you.

“As you can see, he’s having fun with it. Whether it’s really him or not, everything feels genuine, and that’s what you’re lacking, Harry, sorry to say. You may not think these things matter, but when you look at the demographic of people who follow you, I assure you, it matters.” You were proud of yourself for essentially proving your worth.

“Oh, I like her. I think this is going to work out well.” Harry says.

Things started off with you and Harry meeting on Friday mornings so you both could choose the fan photos you would share on his Instagram story. You wanted to make sure he liked the way the way he looked. Then you would have him write down any thoughts he may have had during the week that would make sense to tweet. You would use those throughout the following week to tweet out for him. Not all of them made the cut, but the fans were responding positively see him back online more.

Harry wanted you around more. The two of you got along pretty well, and you actually had more in common than you would’ve thought. You were slowly starting to become part of his circle of friends.

One night, a bunch of you were hanging out at his home in Malibu. It was raining out, but it didn’t put a damper on the fun. Everyone was hanging out in the kitchen when you got there. You were wearing a pair of jean shorts, white tennis shoes, and a cropped sweatshirt. You had slowly started dressing more casually the more you realized everyone else did.

“Hey, you made it!” Harry said, giving you a hug. Your sweatshirt was soaked from the rain.

“Hit a spot of traffic. People drive like idiots in this weather.”

“Want one of my sweatshirts to wear?” Harry’s eyes grow wide when he sees your nipples peak through the material, then coughs. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. A.C. is a little strong in here, don’t ya think?”

“It got warm where we were all sittin’. I can, turn it down. Come upstairs with me so you can pick somethin’ out.”

“Um, I think you can handle that on your own.” You smell the deliciousness from the kitchen. “I’m starving.” You walk by him, and greet everyone.

Harry returns shortly with a small towel and a new sweatshirt.

“Towel’s for your hair.” He smiles.

“Thanks Harry.” You give his shoulder a squeeze before you head into the bathroom to change. The sweatshirt he gave you was rather large and black. It completely covered down past your shorts, not that your shorts were very long to begin with.

Harry admires you as you walk by him.

“Think you could’ve given me a bigger sweatshirt, this one’s not big enough.” You nudge him. He sticks his tongue out at you. “You guys feel like moving to the living room for a movie?”

Everyone agrees with you. You knew none of you would pay attention to a movie, but it was something to do. People were getting set up on the couches, some opting for the floor. There was one large recliner left. You and Harry looked at, at each other, then back to the chair. You both raced over and sat down at the time time.

“Would you please move your big butt, I was here first.” You say playfully.

“Oh, I have a big butt?”

“A proper bubble butt!” You giggle. “Now move.”

“There’s room for the both of us.” He says with a smile.

“Not unless you wanna sit on my lap there’s not.” Harry shifts and sits on your lap. “Get off! You’re crushing me!”

“Quit overrating, I’m as light as a feather.” He jokes.

“Harry!” You whine.

“Fine.” He gets off of you. “Wanna sit on my lap?”

“Not particularly.” You say sitting sideways in the chair. “But thanks for giving up the space for me. You’re such a good little host.” You say with a slight sarcasm to your tone. He rolls his eyes at you.

“Can I get anyone anythin’ from the kitchen? Doin’ a drink run.”

Harry takes drink orders from his friends, and heads into the kitchen. You’re talking with one of the girls when Mitch comes over to you.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Sup, Mitch?” You smile at your friend.

“Got a sec? Something I wanna talk to you about.”

“Sure!”

You get up and follow him down the hall. No one pays the two of you attention.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, um, this is sort of awkward, but he’s really trying.”

“Who’s trying?”

“Harry.”

“What’s he trying to do?”

“Flirt with you. He likes you, obviously.”

“That’s flirting? We act like that with each other all the time. We’re just friends, Mitch.”

“But...he likes you.”

“Has he told you?”

“Not in so many words. Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t been hooking up with randoms as often?” You roll your eyes.

Part of being Harry’s social media rep meant having to make sure his little rendezvous went unnoticed. It wasn’t like he was a sex addict or anything, but he definitely got it when he wanted it.

“I hadn’t really noticed. I try not to pay too much to his personal affairs.”

“So, you wouldn’t even give him a chance?”

“How often does this happen? A new girl is added to the friend group, and then what? He starts hooking up with them, and then it ends? Isn’t that the situation with like half of the girls in there?” Mitch sighs. “Exactly. I’m not getting mixed up with all that.”

The two of you go back into the living room, Harry had taken your sit. You stand in front of him with your hands on your hips. He thought you looked incredibly cute in the oversized sweatshirt.

“Can I help you?”

“You took my seat.”

“Technically, it’s my seat love. I own it.” You roll your eyes at him. “Lap’s still open though.” He grins at you.

“I’ll pass.” You turn around and sit on the floor in front of him.

You all decide on a movie, a romantic comedy at Harry’s request. You end up leaning back against his chair, and Harry’s legs were at either side of you. He started absentmindedly playing with your hair. You let out a soft sigh at his touch, and leaned your head back further. You would never say no to someone playing with your hair. He loved your hair too. It was long, brown (with blonde highlights that you had done every six weeks on the dot) , and it always smelled like apples. You close your eyes as his fingers continue, and you feel yourself drift off slightly. He looks over at Mitch, who gives him a thumbs up. Everyone in the room knew he had a thing for you.

You were woken up by the sound of everyone laughing at some scene. You sat up, and moved to lay on your stomach. Harry frowned at the loss of contact from you. After the movie, everyone agreed it was late, and due to the never ending rain, it would be a good idea to get going.

Harry hated going from a full house of people to no one. But everyone had their own lives, it couldn’t be about him all the time.

“Hey, do you know where my sweatshirt ended up?”

“I threw it in the dryer for a bit, one sec.” Harry left and came back with your sweatshirt.

“Thanks!” You hugged the material to your face. “Nice and warm.” You turned around to take his sweatshirt off, revealing just a cropped tank top, and then quickly put yours back on. You tossed his back to him. “Thanks again for the loaner.”

“Any time. Glad you could make it out tonight.” He smiled at you.

“Same here.” He stepped forward to hug you, but you stepped back, making his face fall. “Well, goodnight Harry.”

“Um...goodnight.”

A few weeks passed and you started picking up on more of Harry’s flirty behavior that Mitch had told you about. You found yourself always being placed next to him on flights, dinners, and wherever else he needed you to be. Your one year work anniversary was coming up, and he wanted to do something special for you. In your weekly Friday meeting, he brought it up.

“Can you believe you’ve been with me for almost a year?” You squinted at his phrasing.

“It’s been great being part of your team, Harry. Best job I’ve ever had.”

“I’m really glad we’re, um, friends too. Everyone loves you.”

“Nice of you to say.” You say, looking at your laptop.

“I was thinkin’...I’d like to celebrate our, your anniversary.” You turn to face him, and raise an eyebrow.

“What exactly were you thinking?”

“How ‘bout a holiday? Go away somewhere tropical for a bit.”

“Seems like a bit much for just a work anniversary.”

“Also an excuse to get away and relax. Been sorta stressed lately, love.”

“So, you wanna use me working for you for a year as an excuse for a vacation?”

“Don’t say it like that. You don’t work for me, you work with me.” You smirk at him. “There’s that smile.”

“Oh stop it. Look, I’ll think about it, okay? Can we get to the work that this meeting is for now?”

“Yes.” He hands you the piece of paper with the notes for some tweets.

“Why does this one have a star next to it?”

“Because I found that thought to be particularly funny, and I’ve noticed that sometimes the things I think are funny don’t always make the cut, so I wanted to make sure that made it.”

“You know, you are allowed to tweet things yourself. You don’t have to wait for me.” You laugh looking at his note. “This is pretty funny.”

“Thank you, I was pretty proud of that one.”

You agreed to a five day getaway to Aruba with Harry. You didn’t think much of it when it was just the two of you from your gang on the plane. You figured they were catching a different flight.

Harry was very sweet at the airport. He carried all of your luggage, rented a car for the two of you, and drove you to the condo you’d be staying in for the next few days.

“S’not a big place. It’s part of a timeshare association. I’m actually renting it from a friend.”

“Oh that’s fine. It’s probably bigger than all my apartments.”

“You know, you could just stay with me when we’re in Malibu. My house has so much space, it doesn’t make sense for you to pay for two different places.”

“I’m not living with you, Harry.” You squeeze his arm. “But I appreciate it.”

You get to the condo pretty quickly, and Harry takes your bags to the room after checking in. You already loved it here. It was humid, but there was a breeze, and zero paps. Harry unlocked the door. You didn’t question that it was only one room, you figured there would be a few bedrooms for everyone to stay in. The cool air hit you as you both walked in, giving some relief from the humidity.

As you walked around to explore, you got extremely confused and angry.

“Harry.”

“Yeah?”

“Why does this place only have one actual bedroom?”

“I told you it wasn’t huge.”

“Where is everyone supposed to fit?”

“What do you mean everyone?”

“Um, our friends?”

“None of them had anniversaries. This trip is just for the two of us, thought that was clear.” He shrugs, wheeling both bags of luggage into the bedroom. You snatch yours from his hand. “What?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Harry! Don’t you see what’s wrong with this picture?” You gesture to the space. “I am not staying along with you here for an entire week.”

“S’not a week, it’s five days.”

“Don’t be fresh with me.”

“You sound like my mother.” He smirks. “Would ya relax.”

“No! Where the fuck am I supposed to sleep?” He gives you a confused look, and looks at the large bed in the bedroom.

“Love, it’s a king size bed.” You start laughing out of exasperation.

“You are crazy if you think I’m sleeping in the same bed as you.”

“It’s a huge bed, we won’t even be touchin’.” You scoff. “What?”

“What do I look like an idiot? I know how you are.”

“Excuse me?” Not wanting to start an even bigger fight, you decided to let it go.

“Never mind.” You walk over to the couch in the living room, and take the pillows off. You sigh with relief. “Oh thank god.”

“What?”

“It’s a pull out. I can sleep out here, and I’ll use the hall bath.”

“Shower’s in the bedroom.” You glare at him.

“Guess we’ll have to take turns, won’t we.”

“Would ya stop bein’ a baby? We’re two adults aren’t we? No way you’ll last five nights on that thing.”

He was right. You weren’t a great sleeper when it came to traveling. An actual mattress would be much more comfortable.

“Jesus, I really hate you right now. You’ve backed me into a corner.” You wheel your luggage into the bedroom, and angrily unpack your things.

You calm down a bit when you see how beautiful the bathroom is. There was a huge tub, and a giant walk in shower. You could already see yourself relaxing in a giant bubble bath.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Harry brushes past you to put his toiletries away. “We need to go to the grocery store to pick out what we want for snacks and stuff. There’s food on site, but none of it’s complimentary. I figured we could do the breakfast buffet a couple times, but we might want stuff here for ourselves. We’ll eat out most dinners.”

“Alright, sounds good. When we get back can we go down to the pool, I need to cool off.”

“You bet.”

Harry was fun to grocery shop with. He pushed the cart while you picked out things you liked to eat. He agreed with just about everything you picked out. He paid for everything. Groceries were more expensive in Aruba. You worked together to put everything away.

Harry changed into his little yellow swim shorts and a white t-shirt while you changed into your bathing suit. It was a simple high waisted black bikini. You took the straps off the top so you wouldn’t have tan lines. You threw on a large t-shirt as a cover up, and slid on your flip flops.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Yup. What do we do for towels?”

“They’re down by the pool.” He smiles.

You both get a couple towels, and put them on your chairs. Harry was smart to remember to bring down some sunscreen. You took your shirt off, and laid it on the back of the chair. Harry’s eyes went wide looking at you. He had never seen you in such little clothing. You bend over in front of him to put your hair up in a messy bun. When you look at him he quickly looks away.

“Would you mind putting some sunscreen on my back?” You ask him.

“Um, sure.” He swallows hard, and squirts some in his hands. He rubs his hands together to warm it up, and he massages it into your shoulders and upper back.

“Can you get the bit of my lower back too?”

“Mhm.”

“And make sure to get under the top, I’ve been burned there before, no fun.”

You hold the front of your top up while Harry nervously rubs sunscreen underneath the back.

“Kay, all set.”

“Thanks.” You snatch the bottle from him, and lather the rest of yourself up. He takes his shirt off while you do this. “Turn around.”

“I’m gonna lay on m’back.”

“Still need to get those shoulders, and the back of your neck.”

Harry turns around, and bends his knees a bit so you can reach his shoulders easily. You rub all over his back, and give him a little slap when you’re done.

You put your headphones and listen to some music while Harry reads from his book. You had thoroughly calmed down from earlier. You drift and snooze for a little over an hour. You stand up and stretch once you’re awake. Harry watches you, peering up from his book.

“Gonna go for a swim.” You say to him, and he nods.

You slowly get into the heated pool, and it feels amazing. You loved swimming more than most things. Harry watches you spin around in the water, and loved the giant smile on your face. You were careful not to get your hair wet.

“Harry, come in with me, the water feels great.”

“Alright.”

Harry gets up and joins you in the water. The pool, and area, you were in was smaller than where the other pool was. There was mostly older people around you that didn’t know or care who Harry was. He ducked his head under the water, and pushed his hair back when he came back up.

It’s not that you weren’t attracted to Harry. You thought he was extremely handsome. You just knew how he was. He didn’t have the best track record with the people he dated. You enjoyed being his friend so much, you didn’t want hooking up to complicate things. You also didn’t want to risk doing anything that could lose you your job. You loved what you did every day. How many people could say that?

“It’s a nice suit, by the way.” He says, leaning against the edge of the pool.

“Oh, thanks.” You blush. “I got it at that boutique last time we were in New York.”

“You have great taste in clothes. Don’t know if I’ve ever told ya that.”

“Says the fashion icon himself.” You look away, then back at him. “What do you feel like doing for dinner tonight?”

“Gettin hungry, love?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we could stay in tonight. I don’t know if I feel like putting proper dinner clothes on.”

“Me either, we bought plenty of food. Oh! We could have pancakes tonight.”

“Brilliant idea.”

After a little more time in the pool, you both dry off, and go back to your room. You both hang out in your bathing suits for a bit while you get all the things to make pancakes. You decide to change into a pair of jean shorts, feeling uncomfy in your bathing suit bottoms. You leave the top on though.

You and Harry giggle as you flip the the pancakes, and scarf them down.

“Feel like seein’ if there’s a movie on? We could watch it in bed.” He says. You squint at him, still annoyed about your sleeping situation. You sigh.

“Sure, just let me change into my jammies.”

You take out a a pair of shirts and a t-shirt. You change in the bathroom, then wash your face and brush your teeth. You take your hair out of it’s bun. Harry had changed into a pair of boxers, and was laying on the bed with one of his arms tucked behind his head, the remote in the other hand. You cross your arms over your chest, not wanting him to see you’re not wearing a bra. You had seen Harry in nothing but his boxers plenty of times, so you didn’t feel uncomfortable.

You climb onto the large bed, and set as far away form him as possible.

“So, what are we watching?”

“Think we’ll be watchin’ this marathon of Chopped. Nothin’ else good is on.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll probably fall asleep soon anyways.” You lean over and turn your bedside table lamp off, and get under the covers.

“You’re awfully far away.”

“Don’t start with me.”

“Are you really that uncomfortable with this?”

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, this is just all very presumptuous of you that I’d be okay with sharing a room with you. Let alone a bed.” You keep your eyes on the TV. “Ted, get out of the fucking way! Jesus, I hate when he goes to talk to them, and then he distracts them.” Harry chuckles at how invested you get with the show.

“Oi, look at this one going for the ice cream maker, real fucking original.”

“She’s lucky she didn’t chopped from the last round with that sorry excuse for a risotto.” You both laugh.

Harry gets up to do his nightly routine, and turns his light off after getting back into bed.

“Ready for me to turn it off?”

“Sure.”

He fell asleep pretty quickly, as you lay there staring at the ceiling. How could he be so calm about all of this. You secretly wondered if he would try to cuddle with you. But at the end of the Harry was a gentleman. You finally fell asleep, but not for long.

“Mornin’.” Harry saying coming into the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around him.

“Hey.” You say eating some cereal.

“You sleep alright?”

“Meh.” You say. He frowns. “Wasn’t cause of you though. I never sleep good the first night I go somewhere.”

The two of you spend the day at the each, enjoying the beautiful sand and warm water. Harry picked you up and threw you in a couple times. You managed to grab onto him and dunk him a few times yourself. The whole day was fulled with laughter.

That night for dinner her took you to a club that had live music. You wore your hair down and wore a blue sundress. Harry wore a shirt that was mostly open and a pair of shorts. He stands and extends a hand out to you.

“What?”

“Let’s dance.” Harry never danced, he was truly on vacation mode. You had a few drinks in you, so you shrugged your shoulders and took his hands.

It was simple, fast paced dancing at first, but his hands never left yours. The band started to play a slower song. You both nervously smiled at each other. Harry’s hands went to your hips, and yours went on his shoulders. You two sink into the dance as he pulls you closer to him, leaning your head on his chest. He hums into your ear and goosebumps raise on your skin.

When you get back to the room later you struggle to unzip your dress while you’re in the bathroom. You crack the door.

“Harry.” You whine.

“Yeah, love?”

“Can you please help me?” He practically jumps from the bed. He opens the door wider. Your chest was flushed from the alcohol. His skin was already golden brown from the two days of sun.

“Turn around.” He says. You turn and move your hair. He unzips your dress for your as you cross your arms over your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra with your dress since it had one built in.

You turn to face him, your cheeks rosy.

“Need help with anythin’ else?” He asks, not breaking eye contact.

“Like what?” He shrugs his shoulders. His hand cups your cheek, you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” You open your eyes and shake your head no. “Well, you are. You’re so beautiful. I’ve thought so since we met.”

“Oh, stop it.” You push him out of the bathroom, and close the door. Your dress falls to your feet. You change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. You walk out arms crossed over your chest. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed.

“You don’t have to keep doin’ that, I know what boobs look like.”

“You don’t need to know what my boobs look like.” You say standing in front of him.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re friends.” He scoffs. “Not to mention I fucking work for you, Harry.”

“So?”

“So?! Okay great, so let’s just fuck and then you’ll get what you want, and then you can fire me like nothing ever happened!” He stands up and gets in your face, but you step back.

“Is that really what you think of me? After all this time we’ve known each other.”

“Harry, I have seen so many people leave your hotel room over this last year, I’m exhausted just looking at you.”

“I haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while.”

“You want a fucking award?”

“Why are you so god damn stubborn? You have to like me too, you just have to.”

“Why, because you’re Harry Styles?”

“No, because you know better than anyone else. I like you, a lot. I think we should be together. It wouldn’t effect your job in the slightest.”

“This was your plan the whole time wasn’t it? Get me alone on a romantic vacation, show me this side of yourself so I’ll agree to being with you.” He doesn’t say anything. “That’s what I thought. You’re always doing sneaky shit like this. How hard would it to have been to just talk to me about how you were feeling? I’m not the sweep me off my feet kind of girl. You know what’s really sexy? Proper fucking communication.”

“Alright! I like you! I like you so much, and I have for a while. I think you’re incredibly brilliant, and yeah I do wanna fuck you. I wanna give you a proper fucking shag, you know you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“I’m not a model, you like to date models.”

“I’ve dated like one model, and that just happened to be her job.”

“Yeah, and you made an entire album about how much you loved fucking her. Kind of hard to compete with that, Harry.” You huff.

“What, are you jealous?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Do you care about any of the other things I just said?”

“Mm, so romantic, you screaming that you wanna fuck me.” You say sarcastically.

“You don’t want to fuck me? You don’t want to even consider being with me?” His eyes were tired and sad.

“If we do this, there’s no going back, and it scares the shit out of me. What if I lose you? That would literally kill me.”

“You couldn’t lose me.” He wraps his arms around you and presses you to his chest. “I want you around me all the time, can’t you see that?” He lets go to take your face in his hands.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the adrenaline from the argument, but what you did next took you both by surprise. It had been a while since you were intimate with someone, so you may have gotten a little too excited.

You pushed Harry, hard, so he falls on his back on his bed. You get right up on his lap straddling him. He sits himself up to look at you.

“You really want this? With me?” You ask.

“More than you could ever know.”

You lace your fingers through his hair and crash your lips to his. It felt so good it practically burned, your tongues finding each other in seconds. His hands go to your ass right away and he squeezes you with his large hands.

It felt like your clothes came off immediately, and you found your self on your back, with your legs over his shoulders. The rumors were true, he loved eating out. Every lick and flick of his tongue was done with suck expertise, it astounded you. Every groan he let out against you fucking sent you, and you found yourself moaning out his name as you came undone on his tongue.

“So sweet.” He says bringing his head up, licking his swollen lips. “I’ve wanted to know for so long what you tasted like. I’ve thought about it so many times.”

“Really?”

“More than I’d like to admit.”

He hovers over you, and rubs tip against your clit, making you both moan.

“Do you have condoms with you?”

“Um...I think so.”

“Okay, go put one on.”

“You’re not on birth control?”

“I am.” He blinks at you. “Harry, no offense, but you’ve been with a lot of people, and until you get tested, I’m not letting that thing inside me without a condom.”

He pretends to be offended, but gets off the bed to rummage for a condom. He slides it on once he finds it, and gets back on the bed.

He slowly slides inside you as you grip his shoulders. He was big, maybe even a little too big. He stays inside you for a moment, giving you some time to get used to him. He starts to move slowly as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“You don’t have to be gentle with me.” You say into his ear. “I can take it.”

“You want it hard, baby?”

“Yes, please.”

Harry pulls out of you almost the way, then slams inside you. You arch of the bed a little.

“Do it again.” He smirks, and does as you say.

He fucks you like this for the majority of the time. You tighten around him, and grind against him, coming very close to another release.

“Fuck, Harry.” Your head goes back into the pillow as you come again. You tighten yourself around. “Want you to come too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, please come for me Harry.”

He quickens his motions, and they become sloppy. He moans out your name as he fills the condom, and collapses on top of you. You run your hands through his hair. He slowly pulls out of you and hiss at the loss of him. He gets up to dispose of the condom, then joins you once again.

Harry pulls you onto his sweaty chest to hold you.

“How was that, love?”

“Your dick is huge.” You both start giggling. “But in all seriousness, it was great.” You kiss him on the cheek. “It had, uh, been a while for me.”

“Same here, didn’t think I was gonna last as long as I did. You felt incredible.” You nuzzle into him.

“What happens now?”

“Well, we have three days left here, then it’s back to reality. I’d love to take you on a real date when we get back to California. I could cook for you at home. You know, see where it all goes.”

“Or I could just start calling you my boyfriend, and skip all that crap.” He looks down at you.

“Works for me.”

“Great. So, um, how many condoms did you bring with you?”

“Why, ready for a second round?”

You move to get on top of him, straddling his hips.

“You said you’ve thought about this before. I wanna fulfill every fantasy you’ve had.” Harry swallows hard. Amazed that he get to see this side of you.

You spent the next three days in and out of the room. You tried to enjoy the sun and warm water, but you both found yourselves wanting to just be alone and explore each other’s bodies. It was the most passionate sex you’ve ever had.

You loved what you did every day. How many people got to say that?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #fluff #smut #this was meant to be a blurb #then two hours later this happened #hope you like!

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combat-wombatus · 3 years

Note

uHm if you do these and if you want to do it I’d love a bnha matchup <3?

• my name is Aubri, I’m bi but prefer MHA boys tbh. I go by she/her, too.

• I’m a very Gryffindor person. (Sorry if you don’t know Harry Potter - 😖)

• I’m a June cancer, and I have ADHD and anxiety. My anxiety can be literally crippling somedays, but it’s gotten better overtime.

• I’m a bit of a class clown and usually just a clown 🤡 but that’s irrelevant. My teachers all hate me but like school-wise I do well so we have a love and mostly hate relationship 🤧

• I’m usually the ‘entertaining’ friend, in elementary the popular kids would invite me to play games with them because, “you’re funny” and it was like the biggest achievement ever 😭👍🏻 then they’d ignore me but that’s another therapy session

• I’m usually made fun of by people for being ‘weird’ and ‘insane’. Like all through elementary everyone thought I’d be a criminal when I grew up JUST BECAUSE I HAD UNDIAGNOSED ADHD - I hate it here 😐🦶🏻

• I’ve always been super into crime stories/true crime (where my anxiety comes from, I’m always worried about a pesky serial killer just killing me. It’s usually being kidnapped tho lmao) so I knew and still know like all these murder facts and sometimes I’d just randomly be like;

“Hey did you know it takes 12 hours and 2 days to dissolve a body in acid?”

“If you bury a dead deer over a dead body you buried deep in the ground, when police dogs sniff it and people dig they’ll just think it was the deer and won’t dig any farther.”

• So maybe people had a reason to be scared of me and think I’ll be a criminal someday, i dunno.

• I love love love reading and writing, and also debating. The things I’ve wanted to be when I grow up are basically: Dog shelter worker, actress, FBI agent, politician, and a writer. But usually I just want to do something that makes a positive impact on people. Like i wanted to be an FBI agent to solve crimes for people. I wanted to be a politican so I could actually help a lot of people. The entertainment industry also seemed like a way to make people happy. Idk, but then I decided I couldn’t be a politican at 10 because they were all corrupt and to be one I would have to be too. 😫🤌🏻 we love some good childhood angst

• the only subjects I’ve ever excelled at are ELA and Social Studies aka History, and Math I can’t do to save my life. ELA comes easy for me and I usually don’t have to work that hard and/or get too stressed over it. But I always get the meanest teachers for some reason. For example, one time I did my final essay for like 30% of my grade in 30 minutes the day it was due and I got an A+ 🦟🦗🦟🦗

• Uhhh id describe myself as a pretty loyal friend, I’m a ride or die type of girl. A story from my childhood that summarizes it pretty well is when I was in 2nd grade my friend wet her pants and she didn’t want to go to the nurse for it alone so I peed my pants so I could go with her and she wouldn’t have to be alone. Like, you know, a professional problem solver

• and I have genuinely attacked people for fucking with my friends but don’t snitch pls 🕳🏃‍♀️💨

• But also just anyone, people at my school tend to come to me with their problems for me to either help solve them by reasoning, or just to confront the other person like the bad bleep I am 😈😈

• I also have a huge daydreaming problem, it’s literally maladaptive daydreaming. So paired with my ADHD I don’t get shit done like ever.

• I have really high empathy levels I guess, like I always say hi to everyone I see on the street, especially if they look sad 😔 I’ve done it ever since I was a little kiddo.

• My fashion sense is very much a preppy/alt style. I wear those ripped tights and fishnets, I also have the MOST BIZARRE JEWELRY- like who allowed me to buy the gummy worm glittery earrings, hmmm???????? and those Mary Janes???????

• But I love crew necks and pleated skirts so I always obide by the National “hoes dont get cold” policy 🇺🇸😫🦅

• I wanna move somewhere someday, I don’t want to stay in America for very long

• I can speak Latin, French, and my native language which is English.

• My music taste varies, but my all-time favorite artists who all of their music they’ve ever put out has been my favorites are, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, and Conan Gray.

• I no-joke have a sign in my front yard that says;

In ✍️ this ✍️ house we ✍️ don’t ✍️ worship Jesus ✍️ but instead ✍️ Melanie ✍️ Martinez

• My favorite shows are MHA (duh), The Promised Neverland, and Malcolm in The Middle.

• and I’m not going to tell you what I prefer in a partner, because that ruins the fun 😤

• but I will say I cannot be friends with someone who doesn’t really make me laugh. Like I’m used to doing most of the talking in convos but if you’re just boring I’m sorry it’s nothing personal but no thanks 😐✌🏻

• About my physical appearance, I have fluffy n curly brown hair, but when it’s in the sunlight it looks sort of brown but golden yk?? It’s shoulder length :) I have bleach blonde streaks in the front. I like wearing eyeliner most days, too. I’m pretty average size/ on the skinnier side. Kinda high key inscure abt my body bc I got flat shamed in elementary EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TIDDIES NOW- whatever 😤🙄. I also have crystal type blue eyes, and I do have fairly big eyes. But, like, not weirdly big. A good big. My cheekbones are ALWAYS PRESENT so sometimes I get called a Tim Burton character but it’s cool ig ☠️☠️ oh and I’m kinda short. I’m 5’3, even though my doctor said I’d be 5’7. I feel like I was either tricked by the doctor or someone just stole my destined height while I was asleep. It’s probably cause I didn’t keep an eye out for Selener 👁 😔😔

• I’m a definite night owl, like all of my energy comes at night which really sucks cuz I can’t do much since everyone else is asleep.

• My love language is touch starved so I’ve never figured it out ✌🏻😗🔫

• but I am an attention whore so idk 😏

• I’m a huge introvert with social anxiety. It isn’t as bad as it used to be cuz I used to not be able to like go to restaurants but now I’m much better.

• I’m a huge history person, mostly like sad history LMFAO. Uh but a lot of my hyperfixations have been on history. Some examples are The Roman Empire, Julius Caesar himself, Anne Frank, The Titanic, the Black Plauge, Helen Keller, Marie Curie, Slavery in the US, Joan of Arc, and just a lot more. I always love talking about these things if someone would let me ramble to them but no one ever does 😖 it also got to a point where for all these subjects I’d go to the library and try to find a book on them but usually I’d either have already read it or I’d read it and know all the information.

• I’m super into Greek Mythology, I have 7 books filled with the stories, I’m going to Greece maybe this summer to see it’s history, and named my hamster Aphrodite but we call her Aphie. I also will talk about this forever and ever if you let me.

• My favorite color is yellow, my favorite food is literally nothing I never have an appetite, my favorite planet is Saturn, favorite song is Tag Your It by Melanie Martinez atm but it changes like everyday.

• Music is a huge safe-space for me if I’m feeling down or having a panic attack. It calms me down n is overall my coping mechanism 💃🏻💃🏻

• Biggest fear is spiders, even looking at one gives me a panic attack and I cannot sleep at all for that night, adding to my insomniac ass 🧎🏻‍♂️🏌️‍♀️

• I’m mature for my age, I don’t exactly like hanging around kids my age and I get along better with older crowds.

• i don’t like conventional dates, (I PROMISE IM NOT TRYING TO SOUND ‘QUIRKY’ AHAHA) I kind of like having a best-friend type partner more so dates that aren’t as romantic as like the movies or a fancy restaurant suite me better. My dream date is playing Monopoly on my bedroom floor 🦧

• Also I hate getting gifts. End of story. If someone gets me a gift like awe that’s nice but never again, I’d prefer to get you one. Especially in a romantic partner 😐 i keep a journal of my friends’ interests and hobbies so I can get them the perfect gifts for their bdays and Christmas’s. Been doing this ever since 4th grade.

• Though I don’t have much actual experience with relationships🧍🏻‍♀️

• I’m a huge believer in ‘family isn’t blood, it’s who you make it’ because I have a pretty shitty family life and my childhood has been trash. My friends are my family to me.

• Also if my friends don’t like my romantic partner ✨ GOODBYE ✨. Sorry girlie, bros before hoes 🦨💨

I was going to put more but I’m so so sorry for how LONG AND COMPLICATED THIS IS- idk if this is a autobiography or a matchup at this point 🤦‍♀️ don’t feel pressured to do this and if matchups aren’t open IM SO SO SORRY LMAO uh yeah ilysm 🦎🎂🧃

OMG ASLDFKJHASLKDJH

🥺 i’m so sorry bby but matchups are closed ;-; my 100 follower event was over while ago (i guess i should’ve specified that in the asks i answered LKSAJHFLKJAHDS SORRY IT’S MY BAD) but you sound so cool?? i had a lot of the same hyperfixations interests (heLLO helen keller was badass AF and the roman empire was messed up but still v cool, anne frank was awesome too) i also may or may not have wanted to be a politician when i was younger alskdjfhalkdhj but now i’m just 🧍🏻‍♀️ lost and anyways you’re amazing >.< love u lots and don’t forget to drink water and eat a lil something hehe :p

#coco answers #nonnie <3

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muchmorethanmuses · 4 years

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Comprehensive Vampire Characteristic Sheet

Because there are like, fifty million different types of vampires in the world across media and history - I have attempted to collate the most popular/common characteristics one might find into a bio sheet. I’m ignoring my drafts right now if you couldn’t tell. There is a slight leaning towards Harry Potter in this as we know so little about them - and I’m a Harry Potter multi-muse. Due to the fact I have tried to categorise them there may be some overlaps. ALSO - if I missed anything??? Please add it, though I did try my best. Several trigger warnings for you know, like… Blood, dead bodies etc. bc vampires, you know? Repost, don’t reblog.

Tagged by: Literally me, I made it - I’m reposting it from my old blog @wandchosesthewizard with some minor tweaks Tagging: @plgedctr @venavinovenor @lexpxrdus (I know you got a lotta vamps so whomstsoever you feel up to doing it for?) and also YOU - if you write a vampire or a have a vampire verse (and I’ve simply not been observant enough to tag you no but really bc I follow a lot of multimuses and pls do it u have vampires so I can see ur thoughts) and you see this and you wanna nab it, please do. Additionally, these are my personal thoughts and I’m not judging anyone for different ideas - especially those with muses that have their own canon outside of the Wizarding World.

It actually got SUPER long, so I’m going to put it under a cut.

Character name: Julian Flenley (This form will go across my WW muses - and as such, Edyth is in the tags given her increased interactions with vampires) Age: 34 Appearance Age: Late 20′s Early 30′s

Appearance

Do they have fangs?: Yes Do they transform visually when they feed?: (Think Buffy / Fright Night): No. Are they pale?: Julian is not, what with being a relatively new vampire. He will eventually become pale. Are they supernaturally beautiful/handsome/otherwise entirely breathtaking?: He may say so, but not due to his vampirism. Are their eyes an unnatural colour e.g red?: No Do they have Tapetum lucidum? (Animal-like reflective eyes): Yes. Are they Immortal - here meaning they will not die of ‘natural causes’?: Yes. Are they Unaging?: Not entirely. He will age at a very decreased rate - and the older he gets, the slower the rate becomes. Anything else?: Vampires in Harry Potter are usually described as pale and gaunt with sharp fangs. It is my belief that due to an avoidance of the sun - and of human food - they eventually become so - As Julian is only a baby by vampire standards, he is yet to develop either trait. Scars from your previous life will remain, but you will not develop any new scars.

Powers / Strengths

Are they super strong?: Yes Super fast?: Yes - not so fast that he’s a blur, but certainly faster than a normal human. Have super senses?: Yes - He can hear, see, smell and taste better than humans. His sense of touch is a little bit more sensitive but not overly so. It’s a bit of a bitch at the moment while he gets used to it. Do they heal faster / have a higher fortitude to injury?: He heals at a normal rate - however - he can heal from things no human could survive. He is slightly harder to wound than a human - mostly due to his speed and strength. Can they hold people under their ‘thrall’ (hypnotism, glamour, compelling etc)?: Yes. He’s not good at it yet but it is possible. Can they make ‘servants’ (think Renfield)?: No. It’s all or nothing, although as above, you can hold someone under your thrall - although that usually requires proximity - older vampires are better at doing it over a distance. Do they exhibit any other psychic powers: (telepathy, mind reading, pyrokinesis etc)?: No. Can they turn into a bat? A wolf? Any other animal?: Just a bat. Can they turn into a mist?: No. Any other shapeshifting abilities?: No. Can they fly unaided?: No - to truly fly he must either use a broom or turn into a bat. Can they walk on walls/ceilings/otherwise defy gravity?: Yes. Anything else?: In a Daily Prophet article, Rita Skeeter complains that the Ministry of Magic employees waste time arguing over cauldron thickness when they should be “stamping out vampires.” Percy Weasley angrily rejects the criticism and points out that paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans clearly forbids such a policy. As such, Julian is technically protected by this, provided he gives no good reason for being ‘exterminated’. When first turned their abilities kick into overdrive - new vampires are the most susceptible to death and their bodies overcompensate for protection by making them faster and stronger than their elders. These abilities peter out with time - however - older vampires can benefit from wisdom and training that will allow them to circumvent a new vampires raw power with experience.

Weaknesses

Does sunlight damage / kill them?: Yes - it is not instantaneous - but it burns and it hurts. The older a vampire gets the longer it takes. Stakes through the heart?: Yes. Is there a more effective type of woods for this (aspen etc)?: No. Do they have an aversion to Garlic?: Yes. Wild rose branches?: No. Mustard Seeds: No. Can they starve to death?: No - but he’d wish that he could. He experiences the feeling of starving but it won’t kill him and eventually a lack of blood can lead to vampires turning feral. Can ‘avada kedavra’ kill them?: No. Are they weak against silver?: Yes. Iron?: No? It’s in blood??? Other Metals?: No. Can they cross running water?: Yes. Do they have arithmomania (the need to count things e.g. beads, rice etc)?: No. Is the bite of a werewolf fatal?: No. Beheading?: Yes - you’ve got to take it all the way off and keep them separated. Drowning?: No. Burning?: Yes. Although they have to be entirely cremated to nothingness. The blood of other vampires?: No. ‘Bad’ blood (E.g - corpse blood, poisoned blood, the blood of the sick)?: Yes. All three. People who are sick just taste nasty. Crucifixes?: Yes - they make him weirdly uncomfortable and they hurt but if they can be destroyed its fine. Other religious symbols?: No. Holy water?: Yes Consecrated Ground?: Yes. Do they need to be invited inside personal residences?Are there any negative effects to attempting to enter uninvited?: Julian MUST be invited in to enter. There are no side effects - other than the fact he can’t come in. Does it need to be specifically worded?: No - any invite inside counts. It doesn’t need to be formal - something like ‘you coming?’ as you retreat inside would work - as long as it can be seen as an invite. Can you rescind the invite?: Yes - it requires a ritual. Do they get super old and gross and eventually die?: No. Anything else?: Harry Potter lore states that vampires have an aversion to garlic and can be kept at bay by its presence.

Feeding

Do they need to ingest blood to survive?: Yes. The amount varies. Does it have to be human blood? Can they live on animal blood?: Technically yes. But it’s like comparing filet mignon to processed ham. It’s also not as nutritious and can lead to him going feral. Can they ingest real food?: Yes, but it doesn’t satiate his hunger and serves only to make you fat. Since most vampires don’t bother - they become quite gaunt, but there are some out there who eat to ridiculous excess. Julian still enjoys human food. Can they starve to death?: Julian can have the sensation of starving. It won’t kill him but he’ll wish it could. Long enough without blood and he will turn feral and attack without thinking. It can lead to a sort of mortification/hibernation state - which he will snap out of if there is a source of blood (eg a tasty human) nearby. Fresh blood is required for healing and injury can make him feral too. Is there such a thing as ‘bad blood’ that they shouldn’t ingest?: Yes. The blood of the sick tastes awful. Blood from someone who is drunk will make him drunk. Poison can be passed through the bloodstream and corpse blood is fatal if ingested. Luckily - it looks and smells different to the blood of those who are living and can, therefore, be difficult to make him eat - unless feral (however, chances are, you would be close enough to grab instead.) Are they a messy eater?: Currently, yes. In an attempt to avoid snacking on humans he is inadvertently bringing on a feral nature - which means his attacks are frenzied and fatal. Were he more in control of his feedings - he’d be less likely to kill - and make such a mess. Do drugs affect them? Alcohol?: Yes - but not as easily. The best way is to drink the blood of someone under the influence. Anything else?: HP canon states - They drink blood, though they are able to eat things such as pasties, and Honeydukes sells lollipops that taste like blood, presumably for vampires to use. Blood flavoured products are like supplements and can prevent feral behaviour but again - it’s like taking a vitamin pill vs. actually eating an apple.

Heirarcy / Social Dynamics / Other vampires

Do they live in a ‘nest’?: Julian was abandoned by his maker - so he is alone, however, it is not common for vampires to live together. Do they have fealty/loyalty to their creator? Is the fledgeling bound to their maker?: Yes - sort of. There is a bond, especially if the process of turning the fledgeling is extended - and it is odd to find vampires who are disloyal to their makers. However - this bond is not foolproof - there are plenty of vampires who have betrayed their maker, or otherwise been insubordinate - able to disobey even direct commands. It all depends on the will of the fledgeling, the age of their master (the older the stronger their hold/control is over their brood) and the relationship. Julian feels no bond to his master (actually, his mistress) but would potentially be swayed, should they meet again. How do they get on with other vampires?: Vampires, as a rule - tend to leave each other alone. They will interact with others from the same bloodline and trouble for one will often mean trouble for most. This does not often stray across familial / clan lines. They are, however, perfectly capable of getting along - although with living across the centuries there are bound to be tensions and disparities in beliefs. How do you make a vampire?: Witches and wizards make the best vampires - their bodies can withstand the rigours of the transformation the best. The human body must be drained of blood and some of the other vampires blood ingested or otherwise introduced into the victim’s body either before, during, or after this process. Julian managed to injure his maker - and his transformation was entirely accidental - her blood getting into the wounds where she savaged his neck. They will transform over a period of days/weeks becoming more sensitive to the sun, sounds and smells as their senses develop, they’ll feel hungry and irritable and eventually feed. The first feed seals the deal. Can it go wrong?: Yes. Muggles often will not survive the process - and this can be true for witches and wizards as well. It’s painful and if timed incorrectly can also just fail. Do they retain their memories?: Yes. Anything else?: No.

Everything else

Do they get on with werewolves? They can identify them by smell and taste. Werewolves in their transformed form can be deadly. Werewolves will likely attempt to attack them as they appear human but do not feel the same compulsion. Are they fertile? Can the reproduce? Not with other vampires, but with humans. Do they count as alive or dead? Dead, which is why the killing curse doesn’t work. Do they need oxygen / to breathe? No. Do animals like them? Certain animals - bats, wolves, owls, rats and can be controlled and befriended. Cats and dogs do not. Is there a demon inside them? No. What happens when they die (do they turn into dust? Do they expel blood?): It depends. Mostly they just become a dead body. They will turn to dust in the sun. They will bleed if cut / staked. If they’ve just eaten you do get the blood fountain. Do they sleep in a coffin?: No. Do they show up in a mirror? On camera? Do they have a shadow?: No. No. Yes How long have they been a vampire?: Not long. A year at absolute maximum - a few months at least.

#[🧛] Julian Headcanon #tbt #[🗡️] Edyth Headcanon #merrin

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