#there will be no Freddy slander in this house

[mangywayway]

The boys decided to wear a peculiar couple costume this Halloween 👀

(Don't worry, nobody as been hurt in the making of these costumes)

[rainalexisart]

I finally done with this

[also I spell the character name wrong]

Not going able to fit all tags

[hideawaysplace]

How did Glamrock Freddy react when he realizes Lefty is a dad like him and that Lefty also has legal custody of them.

“Alec I know you’re there,” Lefty seemingly called out to no one in the room, as Freddy knew no one named Alec was here.

Then from around the corner, a boy appeared, Freddy was shocked, usually he was good at knowing if someone was there.

“It’s very early for you to be awake, everything alright?”

The boy looked at Freddy, Gregory and Vanessa.

“Oh, them? They’re alright.”

He stayed silent.

“Still processing something? Let’s have a private conversation,” Lefty walked forward to Alec.

“Alright,” The boy responded, and they both disappeared around the corner.

“Okay, that weird guy, never mentioned there being kids,” Gregory said.

“I am right here,” Nightmarionne sneered in an annoyed tone, “And I didn’t think Alec would be up so early.”

“You are still not being clear.”

“I can’t be, they might be watching.”

“Who?”

“Well Alec’s alright,” Lefty reentered the room, “Just a little confused about our new visitors.”

“Admittedly I am thrown… by the presence of a child, we were given the impression that you lived alone,” Freddy replied.

“In this big house? Of course not! Me and my cubs live here!”

“Your cubs?”

“Alec and Hazel legally are my kids, Greg is still up in the air, even after two years he’s still a bit unsure, Devon’s house was burned down and his mother asked me to keep him for a little while until the house was fixed-”

“Wait wait, you have kids?” Freddy asked.

“Yes.”

“They are yours??” Freddy asked again.

“Yes.”

“How?!”

“Court and a lot of friends to back me up, thankfully I don’t hear from Meg anymore, since I told her I would sue her for slander.”

“You… we can adopt kids?!”

“It’s not easy but it’s doable!”

“I-I cannot believe it! You are a father!”

“Father first, magician protector second,” Lefty seemingly pulled a ace of hearts out of thin air, “Let’s not get side tracked here, you came to me for a reason, so explain.”

[lonelyasawhisper]

Love is making your guitar imitate a cat and meow for your friend who just wants to write a loving ode to his favourite cat

[cryingoverkanej]

oh my god its kaz and nikolai

[ameliora-j]

twin flame iii // gw x reader

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, breakup, mention of bruising, crying, angelina slander kinda (it’s just for the story i love her sm!), yn is sorta a pick me if you squint sry, cringey mediocre writing at very best

an: i used song lyrics for some of the argument and the ending :) i hope you like it besties!

part one | part two | part four

you george! i want you!

the words had been running through his mind since the night you left. he had been going over the days leading up to your explosion in his mind for weeks. your words were in his mind day and night. your pained expression, your anger, your hurt. you consumed him. more than you usually did.

george weasley knew he fucked up. he knew without anyone telling him. but they did anyway. every waking second they did. first it was fred, calling him a jerk. then ron, who called him a “bloody idiot.” then ginny, who told him it was his own fault. and then his mum. of course his mum, who said in exact words: “george fabian weasley, this is nobody’s fault but your own. quit moping around and do something to fix it! i didn’t raise you to treat women this way!”

his last straw, however, was his older brother percy. percy of all people. who looked at him with a disappointed shake of his head. receiving a disappointed head shake from percy was nothing out of the ordinary, especially for george. it was his words that stung. percy spoke ten simple words to him that truly set george off. percy spoke “you lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” at his sentence, george lost it.

“i know that percy! you don’t think i fucking know that i lost the best thing that ever happened to me! and fred i know i’m a jerk and ron i know i’m an idiot and ginny i know it’s my fault and mum i’m sorry okay! i know you didn’t raise me like this i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i don’t think she’s coming back!” he fell back onto the couch as he tugged frustratedly at his roots.

“george… do you love her?” molly asked him.

“yes mum,” a whimper escaped the fiery-haired boy’s throat. “i love her more than i’ve ever loved anyone before. she’s my world,” he revealed.

“then go, george. go get her,” his dad said. “for your sake and her’s,” he told him.

“and our’s!” fred called distantly from the kitchen.

“shove off fred!” george called back before apparating to your front door. he knocked three times and waited for someone to answer it. when you opened the door, he was shocked at your state.

makeup streaked down your cheeks with your shoulder bruised and your arm in a splint. your eyes were red and puffy, but they were furthermore accompanied by dark bags as if you hadn’t slept in weeks. the truth is; you hadn’t. “hi george,” you mumbled half heartedly.

“hi butterfl-“ you cut him off.

“yn. my name is yn,” you spoke sternly.

“i’ve called you butterfly since you were three…” he murmured.

“not anymore. hurts too bad to hear it. did you need something?” you quickly changed the subject.

“i want to talk to you,” he said. you nodded and walked in, telling him to follow you. george said hello to your brother and then followed you into the lounge where you two sat on the loveseat and you turned to face him.

you sat in a long silence as your eyes traced each other’s features. you memorized him. every line, every freckle, every bump, bruise, and blemish. the silence was deafening. untill he finally broke it. “what happened to your arm?” he murmured softly.

“it splinched when i apparated home. then i apparated again and made it worse,” you bit your lip softly.

“always so reckless,” he tutted softly, causing you to shrug.

“what’d you wanna talk about? know you didn’t come to talk about my arm…” you attempted to get to the point of his visit.

“right,” he murmured softly. “yn i…” he took a deep breath. “the day that i let you walk out of my life is the day that i made the worst mistake in the history of mistakes. i’ve done some stupid things in my life, but letting you walk away has by far been the stupidest. i’m so so sorry that i hurt you the way i did, i cannot express to you how sorry i am, i truly cannot. i love you, yn. with all of me i do, you have to believe me when i say that.”

“i do believe you george. i just don’t believe that you love me the way that i love you. and carrying around that pain is killing me. i mean absolutely destroying me. you live in my mind rent free. you’ve infested it,” you told him. “you with your stupid pretty smile and your god awful jokes and your ridiculous pranks that you somehow always rope me into and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes and just. you. george. stupid you. oblivious you. godric george,” you roughly shoved his chest. “i’ve loved you for years and you’ve always looked past me!” tears rimmed your bottom lash line and your voice cracked as you lashed out on him.

“for years george, i mean years! i’ve watched you fall in love with countless girls just to have your heart broken by them. i stuck by you through everything. even when you stopped being being my friend because it made angelina uncomfortable i waited for you george! and you just pushed me to the side. i did everything for you. i executed pranks for you. i planned pranks for you. i took the fall for you. i got detention for you! i did it all for you. i mean the countless amount of things i did just to be able to call you mine and i just… you didn’t care! you’ve never cared! you’ll never love me the way that i love you and that hurts. so. fucking. bad.” you wiped your eyes.

“it kills me george. it eats at me, every single day it does. i stood by your side and i took the blame with you even when i had nothing to do with the stupid shit you pulled at hogwarts because yeah i was going down, but hey, at least i was doing it with you, right? we made so much trouble and-and we used to laugh. and be happy. we were genuinely happy and i don’t know where we went wrong but we did, but i still say that i hate you with a smile on my face! i don’t get it george why don’t you love me!” a whimper tore itself from the depths of your chest as you let out a silent sob.

“now look what we’ve became…” he murmured, tears falling from your eyes.

“all the things i did just to call you mine… and… and all the things you said but… somehow, i still hope i was your favorite crime. cause merlin knows you were mine.” you sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“you were mine. you’ll always be my favorite crime.” he leaned over and kissed your head as another silent sob racked your body. “now it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we did,” he smiled over at you sadly. “i love you butterfly. just as much as you love me, if not more,” he whispered as he stood from his place.

you rolled your eyes water-logged eyes, but still managed to smile. “i wish you thought about that before,” you whispered.

“i do too… i guess i’ll have to just call you the one that got away then?” he asked.

“in another life georgie… i’d be your girl. and we’d keep every promise that we made,” you told him.

“and i wouldn’t have to say you were the one that got away,” you nodded as he kissed your head again. “i love you, butterfly. i always have.”

“i love you too, georgie. i always will,” you sniffled as you watched him walk out the door. you didn’t want this. you wanted to stop him. everything in your body screamed at you to stop him. but your brain wouldn’t work. your heart said no. you were scared of being hurt again.

you wanted to do something. yell at him. tell him to come back. to hug you. to never leave you. to never let you go. but your heart wouldn’t let you. you were frozen in time.

~~

it’ll all get better in time.

you’d heard the saying time and time again. especially after your parents passed away. it was people’s favorite line to use when they saw you. the truth is… you didn’t stop hurting. the pain didn’t go away. you just got used to it. but the pain you were feeling now… you didn’t know if it would ever go away. at least it didn’t feel like it.

two months. it had been two months since george walked out of your house that night. it was nobody’s fault but your own, and somehow you couldn’t help wishing he would’ve stayed.

you saw him everywhere. in the stars in the night sky. in the sunrise and the sunset. in coffee shops and store windows. even in your dreams when you slept. so logically, you decided to stop. if you didn’t sleep you couldn’t dream. and if you didn’t dream, you couldn’t see him.

you dutifully ignored the pain in your chest like an annoying bug on a picnic. you pretended that you were fine, but the reality was; you weren’t. but you played it off. and you were able to keep up your facade. untill one day… that one fateful day tucked in the corner at ninety three diagon alley. your brother asked you to pick up ten second pimple vanisher because he had a date tonight and just received a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose, causing him to look like “the muggle myth rudolph the red-nosed reindeer” as he put it.

you walked into the shop and kept your head down as you searched the aisles. it wasn’t where it usually was. you knew this shop like the back of your hand, of course you had… you’d worked there for nearly three years. you furrowed your brows as you looked around. the shop had completely transformed. nothing was in the place it usually was. that’s when your eyes landed there. on her. right at the front, behind the till at the register you worked, in the uniform you wore was angelina johnson.

you sighed deeply as you extended your neck around the corner to where the office was. you smiled triumphantly as you saw fred sitting at his desk and began your trek. you gently knocked twice on the opened door and fred called, “come in,” distractedly.

you walked in and sat on the desk, right in front of him, forcing him to look up at you. “yn!” fred exclaimed.

“hi freddie!” you smiled as a giggle escaped your lips and you returned the death-grip hug he had enveloped you in.

“what brings you by? not that i don’t love seeing your pretty face, of course,” he shot you a playfully flirtatious wink.

“ybn needs ten second pimple vanisher because he has a date tonight and he woke up with a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose,” fred laughed loudly at your remark. “i tried to look for it, but the stores completely turned around,” you pouted slightly.

“oh yeah, we changed some things up because we needed room for our new products. they’re still in the making, but george disappeared,” he hummed.

“george what?” you asked.

“you didn’t know…?” he asked you.

“no. i… i had no idea,” you stuttered.

“yeah. after the night he went to talk to you, he left a note on our kitchen counter and all his things were packed and he just… left. we haven’t seen or heard from him since. ‘s just been angie and i running the shop now. couldn’t do it alone,” fred explained as he picked up the box. “here you are l-“ before he could finish, you were halfway out the door. “YN WAIT!” he called. “YOU FORGOT YOUR PRODUCT!”

“SORRY FRED! YBN WILL BE OKAY I HAVE TO GO!” you called as you ran out the door as fast as your feet would carry you. if you knew george weasley… and you did… there was only one place he could be. and you prayed to any and every god that would listen that he was there. you prayed like your life depended on it that he was okay. you needed to fix this. to fix him. to make it alright.

in this moment you knew that he needed you. he needed you like peanut butter needs jelly. the way left needs right. like the sun needs the moon. he needed you like you needed him. you ran and ran and ran for miles untill you got to a secluded area. then you took a breath. and you apparated.

it was exactly the way you left it. a dingy old wooden box house sitting at the highest branch of a sycamore tree. you groaned softly as you began to climb the many branches. “george i swear to godric you better be in here,” you grumbled to yourself as you climbed.

it felt like hours—truly it was ten grueling minutes at most—untill you got to the door of the house. you whispered the password and it creaked open. “georgie,” you breathed when you saw him.

there he was. laying on the floor of the treehouse wrapped in blankets and a sleeping bag with a small pillow under his head. the apple to your pie. the straw to your berry. the smoke to your high. the one you knew you’d marry.

the one that got away. your twin flame.

add yourself to the taglist

tags: @ellerosie2332 @i-love-scott-mccall @rmvb24 @astralpcrker @daisybloommm @maybeisthemoon @moonliightbabes @stormi-ames @jochim322 @coninl @melonoptimist @lunajoyce3 @clairdemoony @mangoberry99 @imclueless @enya-2004 @prongsyy @Lol-whoandwhat-is-dis @burnfleur @anything444ourmoony @horrorxweasley @alicecullens-gf @theincredibledeadlyviper @georgeweasleyshoe3697 @narwhalebaby @cloudyskylines @ezmayzworld @aesthete-c @lunacurlclaw @snktastarkov @rudypankowisdaddy @ohnoitsmekc @all-hailreyna @sapphirepixiesworld @gloryekaterina @sisi.bby @lisszabini

* crossed out means i couldn’t tag you

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Call Me When You’re Sober - George Weasley

Title: Call Me When You’re Sober Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, George x Angelina Johnson (kinda, sorta, not really) Warning: mentions of drug use!! Also some mentions of sexual things like sexting/sending nudes and one mention of a boner. I also use the word tits a few times. Summary: George only seems to have the time for Y/N when he’s high, and that’s just not enough for her anymore. (This is also a modern au where they have cell phones and social media bc why not) A/N: this is for an anon that wanted a fic based off of a tiktok POV they saw and funnily enough that POV ended up on my fyp last week so you can find that here if you want. The only part I was inspired by was Angelina being present, but that part was specifically mentioned in the request everything else is purely from my own brain!! This also includes a bit of Angelina Johnson slander but it does not represent my actual views. Angelina slander is not welcome in this house. Feedback is always welcome and requests are open! Tags: @feltondarling​ @pandaxnienke​ @raerae27​

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The first time it happens Y/N answers the phone right away.

“George? What’s wrong?” she asks frantically, already getting out of bed. It’s three am and George never calls even at a decent hour, so she assumes that something has gone wrong and he needs help.

“Hey, Y/N,” George drawls slowly, like his mouth is moving in slow motion.

Y/N pauses in the middle of her bedroom, her hand hovering above her car keys. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” George certainly sounds off, but he doesn’t necessarily sound like he’s in need of her rescuing. When all George does is giggle in response, Y/N groans. “Are you high?”

“High on life!” George responds, prompting Y/N to roll her eyes. She shuffles back over to her bed and climbs back in, snuggling under the covers. “And maybe a little bit of weed,” he adds with a laugh.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a small smile on her face. George is one of her favorite people in the world, and it’s hard for her to stay mad at him. “A little bit?” she teases. “You sound baked out of your mind.”

George lets out a throaty laugh, and Y/N closes her eyes, making it seem like he’s there in the room with her. They don’t get to see each other often now that they’re both out of school and busy with their lives, and George’s aversion to phone calls means all she has to get her through their periods of time apart are short text messages and stupid memes. Hearing his voice sends shivers down her spine, and if it wasn’t so late she’d be driving to wherever he is to climb into his arms.

“What can I say? Freddie got the good stuff now that we can afford it.” Y/N can hear some rustling, and she figures that he’s laying back onto his bed. “Not like back when we were at Hoggywarts. Remember those days?”

Y/N hums as she lets her mind wander back to their school days. It didn’t happen often, but every once in a while Fred or George would sneak out of the castle down to Hogsmeade to buy off of a guy that works at the Hogshead Inn. They would settle into their dorm along with Lee and after placing some spells on the room and throwing the windows open they’d light up and pass the joint around until nothing was left. The weed was cheap and burned their lungs, but none of them cared. It left them all feeling like they were floating, and they would talk for hours about nothing in particular.

George always got handsy when he was high, and Y/N supposes this is where her feelings for him started. Once the joint burned out George would pull her body close and let his hands roam all over it as he talked with the boys idly. Y/N would run her hands through his hair and scratch at his scalp, her face pressed tightly to his neck. They often ended up falling asleep together wherever they had landed, sometimes it was George’s bed, but it was usually the floor, swaddled in some random blankets and pillows from the common room. Y/N was always the first to wake up, and she’d hug George tightly for one more fleeting moment before sneaking out and back into her own dorm.

“You roll the best joints, Y/N,” George continues when Y/N doesn’t say anything. “Fred is so shit at it. No matter how many times you showed him how to do it.”

“Very sweet of you to say, Georgie,” Y/N laughs. She yawns a moment later, desperately trying to fight off sleep. “Though you were always more fond of smoking from a bowl if I remember correctly.

George yawns too and Y/N can hear him climbing under the covers of his bed. “I am. But smoking joints reminds me of you.”

“George,” Y/N says softly, sitting up in bed. She waits for him to say something, but all she’s met with are his light snores. She rolls her eyes, settling back down into her pillows. “Goodnight, George.” Y/N hangs up her phone and places it on her nightstand before letting memories of George lull her back to sleep.

-

The next time it happens Y/N doesn’t hear her phone the first time. She’s out of town for work, and after a long day she’d collapsed right onto the bed in her hotel room, formal clothes still on and everything. Y/N had ignored her phone the first time, hoping to fall back asleep. But when it started to ring again only seconds after it stopped she picks up her phone and answers the call without bothering to see who it is.

“Hullo?” she answers sleepily, her eyes barely open. She glances at the clock, noting that it’s only 10 pm and figures that it’s one of her coworkers inviting her to go out with them.

“You sound sleepy,” George responds softly, his voice deep and languid. “Did I wake you up?”

Y/N sits up in bed, rubbing some of the sleep from her eyes. “George?”

George laughs. “Who else would it be?”

“Considering the fact that this is literally the second time you’ve ever called me I figured it would be anyone else besides you,” Y/N teases, shrugging out of her suit jacket.

“Hey,” George whines, and Y/N can practically hear the pout on his face. “I called you on your birthday.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Oh, you’re right, my mistake.” She pauses as she walks over to the dresser in the room, starting to take off her jewelry. “How baked are you this time?” she asks playfully.

“What makes you think I’m high?” George laughs.

“For one the sound of your voice,” Y/N explains as she kicks off her heels. “And you only call me when you’re high. Oh, and on my birthday,” she adds when George makes a noise of disapproval.

Y/N hears George shuffle around, and she takes the opportunity to put him on speaker so she can put her phone down and start getting rid of the rest of her clothes. “You can tell by my voice?”

“Mhm,” Y/N hums, fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. “It gets deeper and slower.”

“Really?” George asks, sounding surprised. “Does it sound sexy?”

Y/N laughs as she heads over towards her suitcase, taking off her bra as she goes. She starts to dig through the mess, trying to find her pajamas. “Super sexy,” she responds, hoping George is too high to notice how serious she is.

“What are you doing? You sound too far away.”

Y/N chuckles at George’s dramatics as her hands finally land on her sleep shirt. It’s an old t-shirt of George’s that she stole sometime during their last year and never gave back. Whenever Y/N travels for work she brings it with her as a reminder of home. “I’m putting my pajamas on.”

“So, you’re naked right now?” George’s voice is rough, and it sends a shiver right down her spine.

“Practically,” Y/N responds, pulling the shirt over her head. It’s far too large for her so the hem barely brushes the tops of her thighs, but it reminds her of George, and that’s what matters.

George groans, and Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up as she crawls back into bed. “Wish I was there to see.” Y/N can feel butterflies erupt in her stomach and she has to clamp a hand over her mouth to conceal the noise that bubbles out of her throat. “Send me a pic of your tits,” he continues bluntly when Y/N doesn’t say anything.

“George!” Y/N says, the surprise in her tone evident. The butterflies in her stomach are going wild, and Y/N has to remind herself that it’s the weed talking, not George. “I’m not going to do that George.” Although Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to. “Besides I’m already dressed and in bed.”

“What a party pooper,” George grumbles. “Got me all hard for nothing.” Y/N’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest. George has never been this lewd with her in all the times they’ve been high together, and she wonders if it’s because of whatever he smoked or because this is one of the only times they’ve been alone while one of them was baked. “What are you wearing then? A sexy little nighty?”

Y/N has to take a few deep breaths, hardly able to believe what she’s hearing. Part of her wants to tell George to knock it off and hang up on him. But the other part has wanted to hear George talk to her like this since their Hogwarts days and she doesn’t know which part should win.

“One of your old t-shirts, actually,” Y/N responds quietly, giving in to her desires.

George groans, and it takes everything in Y/N’s power not to shove a hand down her panties. “That red one? That I let you borrow and never saw again?”

“You remember that?” Y/N asks softly.

“Of course,” George answers. His voice is slower now and Y/N can tell he’s going to fall asleep any second. Smoking always makes him tired and he was often the target of a few pranks since he would be the first to nod off. “That’s like a guys wet dream. Seeing a girl that’s as pretty and sexy as you are in his clothes.”

Y/N bites her tongue as to not say anything, just listening to George through the phone. His breathing starts to slow down, and within a few seconds Y/N can tell he’s fallen into a deep sleep. She listens to him breathe for a moment, before hanging up and tossing her phone down. She cuddles up in the unfamiliar bed, desperately trying to fall asleep.

-

Every few weeks George’s name pops up on Y/N’s phone usually late at night and he’s always baked out of his mind. Y/N finds it nice the first half dozen times, George’s voice is always calming to her and she basks in the opportunity to get to speak with him. They haven’t seen each other in months, despite the fact that Y/N has tried to catch up with him several times. But he’s always got an excuse ready. At first Y/N understood, the joke shop is his number one priority, but after a while it gets insulting. When George is sober he can barely be bothered to send her a text message but the second he lights up he’s dialing her phone number.

One night when he calls she asks him why he doesn’t just invite her over to smoke. Her flat is only 30 minutes outside of London and he knows that she’d drive to the ends of the earth to see him. But of course he has an excuse. He says that it’s something just for him and Fred, a way to wind down together after a hectic workday. Which makes sense to Y/N, and as much as she wants to push it she doesn’t. If it were any other person she would have given up on their friendship by now. But George isn’t just any average person. He’s the person she cares most about in this world, and Y/N doesn’t want to live without him. So as shitty as it makes her feel to just be someone he calls when he’s too baked to care who he talks to, she puts up with it.

That is until she reaches her breaking point.

-

The last time it happens Y/N doesn’t answer her phone the first time it rings. Or the second time. She’s just gotten home from having a few drinks with friends and the alcohol has made her brave. She puts her phone on vibrate mode and leaves it on her bed as she gets ready to go to sleep. It takes her 20 minutes to get ready and once she’s finally in bed under the covers she picks up her phone to assess the damage.

“What the fuck George?” she whispers to herself, scrolling through the notifications on her phone. She has 15 missed calls from him and a litany of text messages.

Answer ur phone Y/N Y/N I called again Pls Answer me Y R u ignoring me Need to hear your voice Baby Y/N Im gonna call until u pick up Ill keep txtin 2 Baby please Y/N I need to talk to you I miss u Pls

When George’s name and the stupid photo of him Y/N set as his contact picture pop again Y/N sighs and she reluctantly answers. “What?”

“Oh my god finally,” George groans in his usual slow voice. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Because, George. I was busy. I have a life outside of you and your stupid little phone calls.” Her tone is harsh, and George is so quiet for a moment that Y/N has to check to make sure that he hasn’t hung up on her.

“Why are you so angry?” he asks a second later, and Y/N can tell he’s upset. Normally she would just drop the subject, but there’s alcohol thrumming through her veins and she’s tired of keeping it all in.

“Because, George,” Y/N sneers. “You only call me when you’re high. You dodge every attempt I make at seeing you and you barely even text me anymore. I thought we were friends George. But in reality you treat me like dirt. You use me whenever you want and then you cast me aside without another thought until you’re high again.”

“Y/N,” George starts, but he gets distracted when someone in the background starts to giggle wildly.

Y/N’s blood runs cold, immediately recognizing that laugh. “I thought smoking was something for only you and Fred, George?” Y/N asks accusatorily, sadness and hurt starting to mix with her anger. “I can’t believe you. Not only did you lie to me, but you can find the time to hang out with Angelina Johnson and not your best friend?”

“I-I’m here all alone, Y/N. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” George stutters. But before Y/N can say anything, the same voice says something.

“Georgie,” Angelina whines. “You’re too far away, get back over here.”

“Y/N, I can explain,” George starts, but she cuts him off.

“Fuck you, George Weasley.” Y/N spits, before hanging up on him. She turns her phone off and slams it down, before burying her head in her pillow and crying herself to sleep.

-

When Y/N wakes up the next morning her head is pounding and her throat is dry, and it’s not just from the alcohol she drank. George broke her heart last night, and she has the dry tear tracks on her cheeks to prove it. Y/N avoids her phone, deciding she’s not quite ready for whatever is going to pop up when she turns it back on.

She gets ready for the day slowly, thankful that it’s still the weekend. Y/N stands in the shower for nearly an hour, just letting the hot water sting her skin. When she gets out she brushes her hair slowly, just looking at herself in the mirror. She can’t help but be as mad at herself as she is at George. George may have treated her like shit, but Y/N let him. She let herself become so desperate for his attention that she played right into his stupid game. And as much as Y/N hates to admit it, she doesn’t regret it for a second. All she’s ever craved was George’s undivided attention, and finally getting it felt so good, even if George was higher than a kite each time. Seeing his name pop up on her phone gave Y/N a thrill each time, even though she wanted more – deserved more. Y/N has always been there for George and all she wanted was for him to be there for her too.

Y/N picks out her comfiest lounging outfit, forcing herself not to automatically reach for the old shirt of George’s hanging in her closet. She’s been wearing it more often these days, craving the comfort of his embrace but settling for the cloth of his shirt instead. But now the sight of it makes her want to throw up.

She’s been up for nearly two hours when she settles back into bed, a hot cup of tea in her hands. Y/N’s not sure if she’s actually ready to face whatever mess George put them in last night, but sooner is better than later. She places her mug on her bedside table, reaching over to flip the framed photo she has of her and George over so she can’t see their smiling faces. When her phone finally boots up the screen shows just her background for a moment, before a barrage of texts, missed calls and voicemails show up. George has called nearly 100 times, with almost as many voicemails accompanying them and he’s texted over 200 times to boot.

Y/N scrolls through them, surprised to find that the most recent call and voicemail are from Fred. She can’t remember the last time Fred initiated a phone call with her, since he’s just as hard to get on the phone as George. Fred prefers to communicate through snapchats and tweets, so Y/N knows something big has gone on if Fred bothered to pick up his phone and make a call.

“Uh hey, Y/N. It’s me. Fred. But you probably already know that. Or maybe you don’t. Whatever, not important. I know this is probably the last thing you wanna hear since he’s left you like a thousand messages, but will you please call George? Or text him. Hell send him an email. He’s sorry for whatever it is he did. I’m not really sure what, he was crying a lot when he barged into my room and I was zooted as hell. But what matters is he’s sorry and he really wants to talk to you. So call him, please. Do it for me, at least even if you don’t do it for him. Okay anyway. Bye.”

Y/N sighs, running a hand through her hair. As pissed as she is, she hates to hear that George is upset. She chooses to ignore George’s voicemails for now, since they’re probably a mishmash of words and sobs considering how messy Fred said he was. She clicks on her text message app, scrolling through the messages George had sent, stopping every once and a while to read a few.

Y/N please Im srry Its sending me to voicemail Did u turn ur phone off Talk 2 me Pls y/n pls baby baby baby im sorry I need you to talk to me I need to hear ur voice Pls Let me explain I dnt care abt angie Not like how I care abt u Y/N please. Don’t do this I fucked up I knw I fucked up Let me make it right Please I love you, please

The last text message shocks Y/N, and she rereads it over and over again until its image is imprinted in her brain. George has only ever told her he loves her one other time. It was the last time they got high together, the night before he and Fred left to start the joke shop. Fred, George, Lee and her were all fairly baked, and after Fred and Lee left to sneak down to the kitchens for snacks, George had turned to Y/N and pulled her right into his lap. He had grabbed her face with both of his hands and looked deep into her eyes. I love you, you know that right? His tone was firm and when Y/N nodded he used his grip on her face to pull her into a kiss. It was uncoordinated and messy, but she didn’t care. He had mumbled the word ‘good’ when he pulled away and in a blink of an eye he’d drifted off to sleep. Y/N had snuck back into her own bed, figuring it was best to ignore it, since George surely wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.

A knock at her door brings Y/N out of her thoughts and she tosses her phone on the bed to go and answer it. She’s been expecting a package, so when Y/N reaches the door she doesn’t bother to check to see who it is, and just throws it open.

“You look like hell,” Y/N says when her eyes land on George. She certainly wasn’t expecting it to be him, but she’s truly not surprised. His text messages had sounded desperate and it’s very like George to just show up at her doorstep when she doesn’t want him to after he refused to come over for months. Y/N looks him over as he fidgets, taking in his disheveled appearance. His eyes are sullen and dull, his hair is sticking out in a million directions and his skin is ever paler than normal.

“Suppose I deserve that,” George responds, his voice raspy. He lets his eyes rake over Y/N, dumbfounded by how beautiful she looks even in her lounge wear. It’s the first time he’s seen her in person in over half a year and even though he’s spent much of his free time staring at her Instagram photos, she still takes his breath away. “You look good though.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and goes to slam the door, but George puts his hand up to stop it. “What do you want, George?”

“Just let me explain,” he pleads. “Just let me explain everything and then if you want I’ll go. I’ll leave and you’ll never have to talk to me or see me again. You can delete me from your life. But I can’t let you go without explaining myself.”

“Fine,” Y/N resolves, stepping aside and opening the door so George can come in. She leads him over to her couch and motions for him to sit down. Y/N resists her urge to sit next to him, instead choosing to stand in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. “Talk.”

George clears his throat and starts to fiddle with his thumbs. “I like calling you when I’m high because I say whatever comes to my mind. When I’m sober I think too much about what I’m going to say, and I never end up saying what I want. But when I’m high the words just fly out of my mouth without me thinking about the consequences and I like that. Because there’s so many things I want to say to you that I don’t have the balls to say when I’m sober.”

“Like asking me for tit pics?” Y/N asks with a curt laugh.

“Honestly, yes,” he answers, a blush forming on his cheeks. “But it’s more than that. Like telling you I smoke joints even though I despise them, and Fred can’t roll to save his life because it reminds me of you. Or that just the thought of you not wearing any clothes drives me wild. Or that I find you so ungodly beautiful and so damn sexy, Y/N. And that I love you.” George pauses for a moment so he can just watch Y/N. “Because I do love you, Y/N. So much more and in so many different ways than a best friend should.”

Y/N bites her lip to keep herself from sharing the same sentiment as George. Because holy hell does she love him with every fiber of her being, but he’s fucked up and hurt her in more ways than just his inability to admit his feelings. “Then why keep me at arm’s length, George? You avoid all my attempts to see you, you only ever bother talking to me when you’re baked out of your mind and you lie to me. Out of all the people in the world you had to smoke with it had to be her. You know how I feel about Angelina.”

Despite being roommates and pretty similar personality wise, Y/N and Angelina never really got along. They were always competing with each other, for the best grades in their year, for prefect and head girl, and Y/N is ashamed to admit that they’d fought over a boy or two in their early years at Hogwarts. But by far their biggest competition was for George’s attention. George couldn’t care less about girls during his time at Hogwarts, Fred didn’t either but at least he would sleep with some of the girls that threw themselves at him. George on the other hand didn’t seem to care. The only girl he ever bothered to spend meaningful time with was Y/N, and it drove Angelina up the wall. Angelina did everything she could to vie for George’s attention, including spreading a nasty rumor about Y/N during their 5th year. Much to Angelina’s disappointment it failed miserably, and they pretty much ignored each other from that day on.

“The Angelina thing is not my fault,” George insists. “She came into the shop just before we closed, and Fred invited her up and she accepted. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not let her in your room!” Y/N answers as if it’s obvious. “But this isn’t just about Angelina, I don’t want to talk about her. It’s about the fact that you’ve been treating me like shit, George. I’ve been trying so hard to get through to you and you stop me every time.”

“Because being around you and having to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you is too painful,” George admits honestly. “The only time I’m brave enough to be with you the way I want to is when I’m high. Why do you think I was always grabbing your ass after we smoked? Why I always made you cuddle me? Why I kissed you that night?”

“You remember that?” Y/N asks, clearly shocked. George had never mentioned it again and Y/N figured he was too high to remember what he said and did. It had upset her to no end that George returning her feelings was only a side effect of the weed, but she never brought it up to him in fear of ruining their relationship.

George scoffs. “Of course I do. When I woke up the next morning and you weren’t there I figured you didn’t feel the same way. So, I just never mentioned it, and when you didn’t either I figured you thought I was just being a high idiot like always and brushed it off. I never invited you to smoke after that because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. And kissing you once is easy to explain away but kissing you every time we get high pretty obviously means something more. So, I would call you instead. And I’d lay in my bed high as hell pretending that you were there next to me until I fell asleep with you on the phone.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Y/N mutters. Before she has a chance to regret her actions, Y/N is throwing herself at George. She straddles his waist and kisses him hard, moaning when his hands land on her bum and give it a squeeze. “You’re such a fucking idiot,” she pants, starting to trail kisses across George’s jaw and down his neck. “But you’re my idiot.”

George chuckles before he grabs Y/N’s face so that he can kiss her again. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to rub Y/N’s back lightly. “I love you,” he murmurs as their kiss breaks.

“I love you too,” Y/N responds, her head dizzy.

“Does this mean I get tit pics whenever I want?” George asks cheekily, laughing when Y/N slaps his chest.

“Only if you promise to only call me when you’re sober from now on,” Y/N bargains.

George grins at Y/N before leaning in to kiss her briefly. “Deal.”

[fruitcoops]

After the wedding, coops plays the newly wed game and Marlene is just like 😍😍

The newlywed game is so cute and Neil Patrick Harris did one with his husband a few years ago that is just adorable. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Welcome back, Lions!” Marlene said with a broad smile. “After a brief summertime hiatus, we’re back with Captain Sirius Black and our brand-new winger, Remus Lupin. Do you guys want to tell the viewers why you’re here?”

“You threatened us,” Remus said.

“Also, we got married,” Sirius added, holding up his left hand.

“Oh, yeah, that too.”

Marlene rolled her eyes as they turned to her with matching grins. “You two are hopeless. You’re here today to play the newlywed game, which will test how well you know each other. I’ll be asking each of you eleven questions that the other person has already answered, and you get a point for each answer that matches. Does that make sense?”

Remus gave her a thumbs-up. “Crystal clear.”

“Loops, because you slandered my good name earlier, you’re going first. I hope your husband wins.”

“Oh, I will,” Sirius promised, kicking the leg of Remus’ chair lightly as he tapped his cue cards on his thighs. “Alright, first one: what did we do on our first date?”

“Pizza at Sid’s,” Remus answered.

Sirius held up a small posterboard with ‘pizza’ written on it. “Correct! What was the last thing we bickered about?”

Remus thought for a moment. “You answered these today, right?”

“Yeah, honey, we did this in adjacent rooms,” Sirius laughed.

“Right, sorry. In that case, it was parallel parking because there weren’t any spots outside the building.”

“Correct! If our love life was a candy bar, what would it be?”

Remus frowned. “What?”

“If our love life was a candy bar, what would it be?” Sirius repeated with a devilish smile. “What, you don’t know this one?”

“Shit, what would you say to this?” Remus muttered. “Um…hell, I don’t know, a Snickers?”

The smile slipped off Sirius’ face. “Are you kidding me?”

“Did I get it right?” Remus’ eyes widened when Sirius held up the posterboard with ‘Snickers’ scrawled across it, and pumped both fists in the air. “Ha! I don’t even care who wins now!”

“Good, because it’s going to be me. Next question: If I could describe you in one word, what would it be?”

“If you could describe me?” Remus exhaled slowly. “That’s tough. Uh, chatty?”

“What?” Sirius asked through his laughter. “Chatty?”

“It’s true!”

“I said ‘sweet’!” He showed the board to the camera and they both burst out laughing. “Jesus, who do you think I am? Just rolling up to Marlene like, ‘hey, did you know my husband talks a lot?’”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“You’ve only made it through four questions,” Marlene informed them, clearly amused.

“What is your weirdest quirk?” Sirius read off the board.

Remus paused. “Like, what do I think my weirdest quirk is?”

“I think so. It threw me off at first, too.”

“This is not grammar correction hour,” Marlene called.

“I think my weirdest quirk is that I can’t end stairs on my left foot,” Remus said after a moment. “I’ll skip a step if I have to.”

Sirius hummed. “I didn’t even think of that one.”

“What did you put?”

“Pre-game superstitions.”

“Hypocrite,” Remus said with a grin.

“Perhaps. Who is my celebrity crush?”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure you want me to tell them?”

“It’s not that weird!”

“Freddie Mercury.”

“That is a little odd,” Marlene agreed when he showed the board.

Sirius looked between them in disbelief. “Why?”

Marlene snorted. “Because the person you married is basically the exact opposite.”

“There’s a difference between thinking someone’s hot and wanting to marry them.”

Remus pouted slightly. “You don’t think I’m hot?”

“Oh my god,” Sirius groaned. “Next question. What is my favorite book?”

“The Hobbit.”

“Nope.”

“Three Musketeers?”

“Nope.”

“Winnie the Pooh?”

“What the fuck?” Sirius laughed. “It’s To Kill A Mockingbird. Marlene, can I skip the next one?”

Remus leaned closer. “Well, now I’m curious.”

“Which of us would win at Trivial Pursuit?”

“Oh, baby, I would wipe the floor with you.”

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I know. If I needed a lift at 3 am, who would I call?”

“James.”

“Yep. What is my silliest fear?” There was a brief pause. “Really? I thought this was one of the easier ones.”

“There are several to choose from,” Remus mused. “But I think you would say your silliest fear is dishsoap bubbles.”

Sirius held the final board up. “Unfortunately, you’re correct. They’re all slimy and gross. Last question: what is our favorite activity to do together?”

A smile twitched at Remus’ lips for half a second before he regained his poker face. “I would say hockey, but I think it’s actually road trips.”

“Incorrect,” Sirius said smugly.

“We literally had this conversation two days ago. What did you put down?”

He flipped the board around. “Movie night. You’re not entirely wrong about road trips, but bonus points helped you win last time, so I’m never doing that again.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Remus waved him off, as if he wasn’t having the time of his life. “Okay, number one: who is the better driver?”

“Me,” Sirius said without hesitation.

“Indeed. What did I wear on our first date?”

Sirius bit his lip in concentration. “You wore jeans and a sweater. Your green one, right?”

Remus glanced to the camera, clearly stunned, then held up his board. “Yeah, you nailed it.”

They high-fived and Sirius leaned back in his chair, grinning. “You thought you were so smart with that Snickers answer, huh? I know things, sweetheart!”

“Who is the tidiest?” Remus continued with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Me, but you clean more often.”

“True. Who is the funniest?”

“You.” Remus shook his head and Sirius gave him an offended look. “You’re way funnier than I am!”

“We’re funny in different ways,” Remus conceded. “You make really good puns, but I’m just sarcastic and people think I’m kidding. Who does the most cooking?”

“You, for sure.”

“Marley, these questions are too easy. You’re rigging the game against me.” Remus shot her a teasing glare as he set the used boards on the ground. “What is my ideal date?”

“Going to the bookstore and staying there for at least four hours.”

“I don’t know about four hours—”

“Re, I love you, but that is exactly what we did last weekend.”

Remus hesitated, then nodded. “Fair. What is my favorite junk food?”

“You are an Oreo hound. We have, what, three boxes stashed in the house right now?”

“Five,” Remus muttered.

Sirius’ jaw went a little slack. “Where? I only saw three in the pantry.”

“I’m not telling you, you’ll steal them!”

He turned to Marlene with a disbelieving look and she shrugged. “Hey, I’m just here to moderate. This is reality tv for me.”

“If I was a Disney princess, who would I be?” Remus asked before things could devolve further.

“Belle, obviously.”

“Hell yeah. What do I think your best feature is?”

“Again with the wording,” Sirius sighed. “Hmm. You’re always messing with my hair.”

“It is very soft,” Remus agreed. “But that’s the wrong answer. I think you have the prettiest eyes.”

His cheeks went pink. “Really?”

“Babe, I’ve told you this a million times,” Remus laughed.

“Still.”

He shook his head and moved on to the next question. “Which of us has the worst handwriting?”

Sirius frowned. “Neither of us has bad handwriting.”

“Which one is worse than the other?” Marlene clarified.

“You, maybe?” he guessed. “I really like your handwriting, though.”

“Yeah, I put myself for that one. It’s kind of a weird half-cursive with a bunch of loops. Which is fitting, I suppose.” He shrugged. “Ready for the last one? You’re totally going to get this.”

“Don’t jinx me.”

“What was our last date, and when?”

“Last Thursday,” Sirius said. “We got takeout and watched The Princess and the Frog.”

“Did you sing along?” Marlene asked.

“Of course we did,” Remus said with a playful scoff. “Alright, who won?”

Behind the camera, Dorcas cleared her throat. “Remus, you got seven out of eleven correct, and Sirius, you scored a grand total of…nine.”

Sirius whipped back around to face him. “I told you I would win!”

“I’m crushed,” Remus said drily, though he couldn’t keep down his smile. “Oh, no, my husband knows me too well!”

“Did you guys have fun?” Marlene asked.

“We always do.” Sirius slid the boards across the floor to her before looking up to the camera. “Thanks for joining us today to see my victory at last, Lions! Be sure to like and subscribe to Lion Pride for more content like this.”

[raystxntz]

Mr. Stantz this a matter of life or death.

I am begging you to listen to this.

This is an excellent way to have me come to your house and actually shoot you with a proton gun. Just know this.

How dare you slander Freddie Mercury like this.

....on another hand, maybe he’d actually find this hilarious.

[ao3feed-danganronpa]

All For Requests & Requests For All!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Eb8CMdW

by Sapphic_Assassin

Leave any and all requests for Oneshots, Imagines, Chapter Fanfics, Series, moodboards, etc. Here!

have fun and be safe! :D

don't be requesting nasty stuffs! >:C

Words: 274, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of All For Requests & Requests For All!

Fandoms: League of Legends, Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas (2003), Loki (TV 2021), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Suicide Squad (Movies 2016 2021), Haikyuu!!, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), Minecraft (Video Game), DreamSMP, Monster High, Ever After High, Rainbow High (Web Series), Scooby-Doo! (Live Action Movies), What's New Scooby-Doo? (Cartoon), Supernatural (TV 2005), Teen Titans (Animated Series), 殺戮の天使 | Satsuriku no Tenshi | Angels of Death (Anime), 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game), Gravity Falls, Five Nights at Freddy's, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Overwatch (Video Game), Encanto (2021), Jennifer's Body (2009), Adventure Time, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia, Super Mario Bros. (Video Games), Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019), Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Hocus Pocus (1993), Kim Possible (Cartoon), Danganronpa, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime), Lore Olympus, Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi

Characters: too many characters to write so ill list off the ones I write for in the chapter!

Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Kate Bishop/Reader, Yelena Belova/Reader, Loki/Reader, Ahri/Kai'Sa (League of Legends), Ahri/Evelynn (League of Legends), Ahri/Akali (League of Legends), Akali/Evelynn (League of Legends), Akali/Kai'Sa (League of Legends), Evelynn/Kai'Sa (League of Legends), Ahri/Seraphine (League of Legends), Kai'Sa/Seraphine (League of Legends), Akali/Seraphine (League of Legends), Evelynn/Seraphine (League of Legends), Rell/Seraphine (League of Legends), Gwen/Seraphine (League of Legends), Supernatural/Reader, Dreamsmp/reader, Haikyuu/Reader

Additional Tags: general LGBTQ+ Stuff, Fluff, Spicy, Lemon(?), x reader stuff, most likely not beta read, so prepare for spelling and grammar erros, sorry besties, ill try to write good though, trying to avoid using "Y/N" as much as humanly possible, we do accept Y/N slander in this house, Crack, Crack Taken Seriously, multiple character deaths(?), not good at writing male/male but ill try my best, writing fanfics instead of doing schoolwork, fanfics are more important than college/j

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Eb8CMdW

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

I don't think Freddie knew that Mary was going to treat Jim and the boys like that or say the things she said and do the things she did, or else he would have cut her off her life.

Seriously If I was Freddie's ghost I would have haunted her and that house after she threw Jim, Joe and Peter out like that so she wouldn't be able to have one peaceful moment there.

Is it obvious that I loathe her so much or should I go on.

I think yes, he trusted her with letting them stay or at least, treating them with dignity. I think it was Tony Pike (?) who told Freddie that Mary did not like Jim, and he said, “well, they’ll just have to get along.” I think he trusted both parties to be cordial to each other.

She doesn’t even live at Garden Lodge anymore. She is now a recluse, and has probably distanced herself from everyone. Well, that’s what happens when you cry victim all the bloody time, Mary. Brian and Roger would never publicly condemn her because they have always maintained a neutral stance on controversial topics, and they’re all related to Jim Beach. But after she slandered them publicly, I am not surprised that they distanced themselves from her.

Same with Freddie’s family. She accused Freddie’s family of leaving her alone, while Jer herself was like, “I wish we were in contact but I have not talked to her since the funeral.”

[ventura-starlight]

𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝓪𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭

hello everyone :)) I am so sorry I have not been active. I think my chemistry teacher knows I write and doesn't like it so she assigns like 3 hours of homework a night. I also have been casted in my schools production of The Secret Garden so that has kept me busy. I am trying to stay afloat at school and have inspiration to write but that is a lot harder than I expected. if you have sent in any requests I am going to work on those as soon as I can but I haven't had the most creativity :') I hope you aren't upset and enjoy this as compensation for my lack of content.

SUMMARY-> ron weasley as your boyfriend :)

KEY 🔑 -> Y/H- your house at hogwarts

WARNINGS-> curse words, snape slander 😌, not edited, but otherwise pretty sweet domesticity

*+.-°><°-.+*

how does it feel to live my dream?

this man is a grade A simp and I will die on that fucking hill

would he ever admit it?

hell no

does everyone know?

yes

how you two met

let me set the scene 😌

you were just going to potions class, you hated Snape and weren't afraid to show it to the snake of a professor [period 😼💅]

ron and harry were only sat a few chairs away from you so they normally laughed at the interactions you shared with the potions teacher

and so when Snape had some smart stuff to say to you,,,,,well lemme just;

"L/N I suggest you keep that smart tongue to yourself unless you want to end up in detention" Snape quipped with a slap of his wand again your desk

"I do apologize professor" you said with sarcasm dripping off your tongue. you sighed and brought a hand to your forehead, "I do hope you forgive me Professor Snake- oops! I mean Snape" you snickered as the other students giggled, including the red headed weasley boy

"Detention and 50 house points deducted from Y/H" Snape shouted with a scowl only for your giggles to grow louder. From that moment on, Ron Weasley had a crush on you

my man here was struggling to even talk to you

you exuded this aura that was honestly very intimidating to him

shy boy indeed

how you two got together

so Ron's crush on you obvious to anyone who had eyes

you just didn't see it

I mean you of course had seen the boy around school before, everyone knew of him

you may or may not have liked him as well

but when people told you he felt the same you deadass looked at them like "🤨"

this situation was much like the case with ron

for some dumbass reason you just didn't see why he would like you

everyone knew you liked him

except him

hermione and harry were kinda tired of hearing him be so lovesick

they were happy for him, just annoyed with how,,,,sappy he was

with the help of the twins, hermione and harry brought both you and Ron to a small party in the griyffindoor common room

basically they threw you two in a closet at the party

"JUST CONFESS YOUR UNDYING LOVE FOR EACHOTHER ALREADY!" yelled George from the other side of the door. you heard some light crying

"Oh Georgie our little brother is all grown up!" Freddie sniffled as the duo walked away

you and Ron were really just standing in the closet like "🧍‍♂️🧍"

yeah it was awkward

after a while you spoke up,

"so uh do you like me back?" you said with a faint warmth spreading across your face. he frantically tried to explain himself,

"I NEVER WANTED YOU TO BE UNCOMFORTABLE BUT I-I WAIT" his eyes widened as his brain registered what you had said, "Like you back? of course I do! Are you an idiot or something?"

you only scoffed, "Well sorry I'm not the most obvious about it" Ron only looked down and apologized for his outburst,

"I didn't mean to say your stupid, I just thought it was obvious, I suppose I wasn't as obvious as I thought" he stated simply, as if it was a fact that you would find in any textbook

you shrugged "Im a little oblivious sometimes I suppose," turning your full attention to his face you simply said "Well I guess that's good huh? We have something in common!" you laughed slightly. He held your hand hesitantly,

"Yeah I guess it is" he replied with a smile.

"AWWWW YAY!" the two of you heard the twins says more people began to cheer from outside the door.

semi anticlimactic but it was sweet

relationship headcannons

So, to start, love languages <3

Ron's love language for you is gift giving and physical touch

this boy,,,,he has to be holding onto you in someway at all times you are together

it kinda grounds him and brings him a lot of comfort

(unless of course if you are uncomfortable with that! he is very respectful of your boundaries)

so in turn he also loves giving you gifts

I think he like does either wood carving or something like that

so expect handmade gifts!

he paints rocks for you 🥲

if you display them in your dorm?

man might cry

he just loves seeing you love the things he gives you 🥺

His preferred love language from a partner is either physical touch, which I have discussed previously

but his other one?

acts of service

he doesn't necessarily expect gifts or anything like that

he just loves it when you do little things

like for example you left him a note

it was a day of a match and Ron was honestly nervous about it

it was nothing too fancy

simply,

have a good day today! you are gonna do amazing hun, I'll be in the stands cheering you on! love you :)

-Y/N <3

he keeps that note now in a box under his bed

that box holds every note or doodle you have ever given him

if you want to help him study he is gonna be so thankful

he loves dates taht are spontaneous

you two have become Snape's worst nightmare since you started dating

double trouble >:)

SO MANY SNACK DATES

LIKE YOU GUYS JUST LISTEN TO MUSIC OR WATCH MOVIES AND EAT SNACKS WHILE CUDDLING

it's heavenly 😌

Speaking of cuddling!

he loves lying on your chest

it's kinda just his safe space

credits to virid on tumblr!

he is a caring lover, his biggest concern is is making you happy in the relationship

he wants to be the person that helps you grow, not by force, he wants to support you through whatever you are going through

you help him be more confident in himself, believe in the good in the world

honestly you changed his life

and he couldn't say thank you enough for being in his life

I don't think he can sing so he hums instead. this happens a lot while lying on your chest so yeah

songs that I think fit your relationship

This December- Ricky Montgomery

How Can I be Sure- Durand Jones and the Incantations

Sinatra- Forrest Nolan

Like or Like Like- Miniature Tigers

-----------

he just loves you so much please my heart can't handle this right now 😭

*+.-°><°-.+*

@70swonderpoisonstark ​ @peterandtheparkers ​ @brianmydear ​ @casuallywriting ​ @fantasticnewtimagines ​ @silversslytherin @sugawaraaaa @ghullehh ​ @living-through-the-fictional ​ @fire-in-her-veinz ​ @regalillegal ​ @a-hopeless-fan ​

[freddiefiction]

It almost seems like they wanted to force something nasty about Mary out of his mouth, and Jim is still seeing the positive side when he's been literally made to leave his house.

Yeah, exactly. And Jim would have had every right to slate Mary, given that she slandered he and Freddie’s relationship publicly. Yet, he remained respectful to her - in the interview I mentioned, he says how Freddie trusted her and they were good friends. He was a better person than I am, lol.

[fangirl-writes]

Enough

Young!Roger Taylor x Reader

Queen is my latest obsession

Warning(s): Domestic fight, violence (Roger punches a wall), swearing. Angst. I used a gay slur in there once (f*ggot). It’s not an important part of the story, but a warning anyhow because I know some people aren’t comfortable with the word.

Notes: Angsty stuff here people. I hope I pulled on those heartstrings, but I added a happy ending so all’s well. Also I have no idea how record players work but I wish I did. Also I don’t think cheating is ever okay, but we all know Roger did it and I wanted to try something a little eloquent and angsty.

Summary: You and Roger get into a fight because you want to know why you aren't enough.

Roger threw his keys onto the table. “You’re being ridiculous, Y/N!”

“I am not! Roger why won’t you just give me an answer!”

“Because I shouldn’t have to! We’ve had this conversation before I don’t know why you’re getting so upset about this!”

“And I don’t know why you won’t just answer me!”

“I’ve already told you-”

“You haven’t told me anything!”

“I’ve told you enough!”

“Which isn’t anything!”

“Why the hell does this matter so fucking much to you!”

“Because I want to know, Roger!”

“It shouldn’t matter!”

“But it does matter!”

“Just to you!”

“Yeah because you won’t fucking tell me anything!”

Roger turned with an angry shout, flinging his fist into the wall behind him. The sound as the drywall cracked made you scream and Roger turned to you, hand still curled into a now bloody fist, the action not lessening his anger.

The silence that filled the air was suffocating as you stood there staring in horror at the look on his face, the blood coating his knuckles, and the gaping hole that was now in the wall behind him.

Roger walked passed you towards the door and gave it an angry slam on his way out.

You broke down, dropping to the floor and sobbing. You were still angry, still hurt, and still scared.

After about an hour had passed you finally got the strength to get off the floor and make your way to the phone.

You dialed the number that you knew by heart and waited as it rang in the otherwise quiet house.

“Hello?”

“Brian?”

“Y/N?” He said, hearing the heartbreak in your voice. “What’s wrong? Has something happened? Did Roger-”

“We had a fight. He walked out and hasn’t been back for a while and I’m starting to worry about him.”

“You’ve had a fight and you’re worried about him?”

You sniffed, wiping at your wet cheeks.

“God, Y/N, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Would- would you just find him? I-I don’t think he wants to see me but he punched the wall before he left and his hand was all bloody-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, love. It’s not your fault he blew a gasket, okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and felt even more tears falling down your cheeks.

“Y/N?”

You hummed in response, your throat tight.

“We’ll bring him home.”

That was the last thing he said before hanging up and you choked out another sob, letting the phone drop from your hand and swing from the cord as you found yourself on the floor again, back against the wall as you sobbed into your knees.

Thinking back on it now, it had been your fault the fight had happened.

It had been about Roger’s endless groupies you knew he fucked every time he was on tour.

You’d talked about it back when you first started dating and you’d told him you were okay with it. You’d talked about it with your friends and family who’d been concerned about it and you’d told them you were fine with it. The other Queen members had asked you about it, offering to watch him for you while on tour, but you’d told them it didn’t bother you.

Hell, eventually you’d convinced yourself you were fine with it.

It was fine. I’m fine. What he does when I’m not around is fine because at the end of the day he always comes home to me. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.

Then why. Why. Why did it take that stupid tabloid article to finally make you realize that you weren’t.

You don’t even know what compelled you to pick up the magazine. Usually you avoided picking up anything that even remotely mentioned the boys because you knew most of it would be slander. Calling Freddie a faggot or Roger a slut or John an absent husband. You hated those articles.

So then why? You asked yourself again. Why did you pick up that stupid tabloid?

Maybe it was because it was one of the few that mentioned you on the cover? Maybe it was because you were bored and wanted something to flip through? You didn’t remember and it didn’t matter now because the moment your eyes landed on that article it was over. And, at the moment, it felt like your stupidest decision.

Roger Taylor, Queen’s Sex Machine, Back At It Again.

After deciding his current girlfriend, Y/N L/N, wasn’t enough for the famous rock star, Roger Taylor was seen acting more than friendly with various groupies during his last tour. Our sources were not able to find a reaction from Y/N, making us suspect that she either doesn’t know about his sexual escapades, ignores them, or doesn’t care. How long will their relationship last if Y/N can’t fulfill Roger’s sexual needs? And how long will it take Roger to come to the conclusion he’s had enough of her?

Enough.

That was the word that kept playing back for you in your head. ‘Deciding his current girlfriend wasn’t enough’, ‘come to the conclusion he’s had enough.’

Why weren’t you enough?

You didn’t know how long you sat there, no tears left to cry and a whole in your heart. You felt numb. Whatever anger or sadness you’d been holding onto before was gone and replaced with an ache in your chest that wouldn’t go away.

It took a knock at the door to finally let all the emotions come flooding back to you.

Was that Brian? What if he didn’t find Roger? What if he did? Were you ready to face him again? Would he still be mad? Of course he’d still be mad. What would you say? Would you apologize? No, you don’t have anything to apologize for. Then what? If he was still mad, he certainly wasn’t going to apologize, that much you knew. What if he did apologize? ‘I’m sorry I caused you the worry, I’ll change how I live my life because you want me to’? No, that’s not what you wanted, you didn’t want him to change because of your outburst. What if he broke up with you? What if he kicked you out? You didn’t think you could stand going back to your family or friends and their pitying looks and ‘I told you so’s. ‘That’s what you get for dating a rock star’ they’d say. He finally decided you weren’t enough. Enough. Enough. Enough.

The knocking came again, this time harder and more persistent.

You rose from your spot on the floor and made your way to the door, every scenario going through your head as the knocking repeated.

“Y/N, darling, if you don’t open this door right now I’m going to break it down.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that made it’s way to your lips as you turned the knob and opened the door.

“I’d like to see you try, Freddie,”

Freddie Mercury stood on the other side of the door, a sad smile making its way to his lips.

“Brian told me what happened.”

The smile you tried to keep on fell at his words and soon you were in tears again, wrapped in Freddie’s arms.

“Oh, darling, oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothed, stroking your hair as you cried into his shoulder. “I saw that stupid article. I thought something like this might happen.”

You weren’t sure whether his words made you feel better or worse.

He brought you into the living room and sat you down on the couch, wrapping you in a blanket before leaving your side to approach the record player sitting on a shelf near by.

You and Roger spent many hours listening to Jimi Hendrix or The Beatles, sometimes even Led Zeppelin if you could talk him into it. He even danced with you to ‘Since I've Been Loving You’ on your anniversary.

You smiled as he flipped through the albums before deciding on one of their own: A Night At The Opera. The one that, arguably, put them on the map.

You closed your eyes as ‘Death on Two Legs’ started playing softly. It wasn’t their most relaxing song, but their music had a way of calming you down. Freddie knew this after seeing you in the studio with them multiple times, absolutely relaxed in the creative environment.

He occupied the seat next to you again, pulling you to his chest as an offer to snuggle into him.

You accepted the offer and smiled softly as you listened to the angry and bitter song. You remembered them telling you it was based on their nasty former manager, Norman Sheffield.

“His loss,” You’d told them back then. “He’ll be forever known as the man who lost Queen.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Freddie had exclaimed. “It was like a movie scene! You should’ve been there, Y/N. It was a perfect exit.”

“Yeah and then we threw a brick through his window.” Roger added with a smug grin.

“Not our brightest idea.” Brian said.

“Never said any of you were the smartest lot.”

They’d shoved you around for that comment with laughter and good natured retorts.

The memory made you smile, the bad thoughts from before being driven away from your head as you remembered and snuggled against your favorite piano player as his voice drifted through the air.

You wondered if the song would’ve made you angrier if you didn’t know what it was really about and didn’t have the memory attached to it. You supposed it would have but you could only giggle at the lyrics now. It was bitter and mean, as Freddie once called it, but it was a great song.

‘Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon’ came next and you released a breath at the softer tone. The song reminding you of Alice in Wonderland and Singing in the Rain, films that you had watched as a kid. It was a short song, but it did wonders for your mood with its playful and happy tune.

It wasn’t until ‘I’m In Love With My Car’ came on that you realized he’d put the record on the B-Side.

You sat up from Freddie, a frown on your face, mood brought down again. 

“Change it.” You commanded.

“Sorry, dear, too comfortable here.” He replied, a smirk on his face.

You bit your lip, near to tears again, as Roger’s song played along in the background. The song he’d fought himself into a cupboard for and that you relentlessly teased him about.

“Freddie, please, I-I don’t-”

A knock interrupted your sentence and Freddie practically launched himself over the couch to get it.

The limber bastard.

You followed him reluctantly, knowing who would be on the other side of that door. The man singing a song about his car.

Freddie pulled open the door to John Deacon who was stood with a frown on his face that disappeared into concern as he noticed you enter the room.

He moved to hug you, which you happily accepted. Hugging Freddie and Deacy was a comforting feeling that you desperately needed.

“Why’s this song playing?” He wondered aloud, more confused than anything.

The comment made you laugh.

“Y/N.”

You pulled away from John to face Brian who was giving you a similar look. It wasn’t pity, but rather a sort of concern. It warmed your heart to think that they cared for you so much.

Were you enough in their eyes?

“We found him walking. Had to take him to the hospital for his hand, but-”

“Is he still angry?”

“No.” Brian said, catching you by surprise. “I don’t think he’s been angry for a while.”

Your eyes swelled with tears as Brian motioned for Roger to come inside.

If you were in a better mood, you would have laughed. Roger Taylor waiting for permission to go inside his own home.

He walked passed Brian, avoiding everyone’s eyes and staring at his shoes.

The song changed to ‘You’re My Best Friend’ but nobody paid any attention to the music.

Freddie had an annoyed expression on his face and opened his mouth to say something until Deacy put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Silently telling him it wasn’t appropriate and that they’d lectured him enough for one night.

“Happy at Home” the song chimed, normally earning a snarky comment from Roger, but it seemed he wasn’t listening or at least not caring about the line for once.

“Come on, boys, I think we better leave these two alone.” Brian spoke up after a minute of silence. “Fred, I’ll take you home.”

Freddie seemed reluctant to leave. Whether that was because he was concerned or because he wanted to witness the drama of it all was unknown, but he followed the other two band members out the door.

You stood in silence for another minute as the song in the background faded into 39. A song you loved.

It seemed to be the kick Roger needed to finally look up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Hi,” He said.

“Hi...” You replied.

“I’m sor-”

“No.” You shook your head. “No, Roger, please don’t apologize, I don’t want an apology for something I started. No, Rog, all I want is an answer.”

“An answer for what?”

You blinked back tears as you asked the dreaded question again. “Why aren’t I enough?”

Enough. Enough. Enough.

Roger’s eyes swelled up with his own tears and he shook his head with a small laugh.

“Ridiculous, really. You’ve always been enough, Y/N. Always.”

“Then why?” You said, tears streaming freely down your cheeks again. You felt like you’d cried an ocean. “Why sleep with all those groupies on tour? Am I not pleasing you enough? Is that it?”

“No!” Roger exclaimed. “God no, it’s perfect! You’re perfect.”

“Then why?” you asked again, voice raising before dropping to a murmur as you hung your head. “Why?”

Roger took your face in his hands. “Please, don’t cry, love.”

You shook your head, palms digging into your eyes to try to get rid of the tears.

He hugged you to his chest and you felt your heart ache once again because, as mad as you were at him, you longed for his comfort.

“I think I do it because- fuck it, I know I do it because I’m afraid.” He said.

You sniffed. Afraid? Afraid of what?

“I’m afraid that one day you’ll you realize what a twat I am and I’ll come home and you won’t be there. I do it because I’m afraid of getting attached to you, even though I know I already have, because what if you leave me one day? What if you decide that I’m not enough for you?”

You looked up at him. “You're afraid of that?”

Roger feigned laughter, not meeting your gaze. “Yeah, the bloody rock star has feelings. Ha ha.”

“No.” You pull his gaze to you again, feeling about a thousand emotions at once. “Roger, I’ve spent the entire day wondering why I wasn’t enough for you and you’re here telling me that you did all this shit because you think you’re not enough for me? Me?”

You took a deep breath, trying not to cry again.

“I love you, Roger Taylor. And you will always be more than enough for me. No matter how many groupies you sleep with or how many times you hurt me or whatever the fuck those fucking magazines say about you because I love you more than I hate you and sometimes I really fucking hate you.”

Roger smiled sadly at you. “I love you more, Y/N L/N, and I don’t deserve you, not at all. You have always been enough for me and I promise that I will try harder to show you that instead of being the dickhead that keeps breaking your heart.”

You sniffed, burying your face in his chest again.

“Always.” He whispered into the top of your head. “You are always gonna be enough for me.”

“Write your letters in the sand for the day I take your hand. In the land that our grandchildren knew.”

You snuggled into Roger’s chest as ‘39 came to a close, his hand squeezing yours in a sort of reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere again.

“All your letters in the sand cannot heal me like your hand. For my life. Still ahead. Pity me.”

“I love you,”

It was a whisper, barely above his breath but you heard it and you savored the sound of his confession in the sudden silence.

Roger pulled away from you, much to your displeasure and confusion and walked into the living room, making a beeline for the record player. You followed him, hoping not to look too much like a lost puppy.

He flipped the record and adjusted the needle.

He held out his hand as ‘Love of My Life’ started playing.

You’d have cried if you had any tears left.

You took it and he pulled you into a sloppy sort of waltz that made you laugh. The boy could sing, but when it came to dancing he was no John Deacon. You leaned your head on his chest, taking in his scent (cigarette smoke, scotch, and the smell of his lingering cologne).

“I really am sorry. For everything. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

“I know. And I’m not going to forgive you, not for a while, maybe not ever, but we can move past it. Just hold me, yeah?”

And he did. He held you for as long as he could.

[heyheycaitalin]

A Drake & Josh iCarly Theory That's Not Dark as Heck

I have a theory that Drake & Josh is a TV show in the iCarly universe and iCarly and Victorious are reality. Because of Kenan Thompson being in the Victorious/iCarly crossover, this also means that All That, Kenan & Kel, and SNL are TV shows too. And Good Burger likely exists too. Kenan's not really important to this theory, just pointing out. He had to get his money and fame somehow and you can't have one gig without mentioning the others.

So, in this theory, Carly and Spencer were actors and starred on a TV show Drake & Josh. Crazy Steve and Meghan are just fictional characters they played. Their salaries and royalties are how they're able to afford a 3 level, 2 bedroom apartment (WITH AN ELEVATOR!) in Seattle. They don't like to talk about it so they just never mention it and ask anyone who knows about it to never mention it.

Spencer can occasionally watch reruns, but Carly doesn't like to. Something happened to make her not remember it fondly. (Not gonna outright slander Dan Schneider in this theory, but it was probably Dan Schneider related. He's a creep). When she occasionally watches reruns, she dissociates herself with Meghan but wishes she could be as tricky as her sometimes.

My main plothole I thought of with this theory is "If Carly was playing Meghan when she was little, how did she become friends with Sam and Freddie?". Easy, they lived in Seattle (in a smaller apartment/house until they got big paychecks) and went to LA during filming season. It's not uncommon for actors to live in different states or different countries from where they work. Carly and Spencer would stay in LA for the 2-6 months of filming (very rough guess from me, 2 months is for the very short first season) and live in Seattle for the rest of the year. If you believe School of Rock exists in the iCarly universe, then Carly already had one major paycheck to go towards her expenses.

Crazy Steve was invented in Season 2 episode 3 (Movie Job). Basically someone saw Carly's eccentric older brother doing Spencer Things near the set, made a character for him and urged him to audition.

Crazy Steve/Spencer had short hair in his first episodes. That's because his dad in the Army raised him to believe a well kept head of hair was very important in life so he kept it very short. While he was in Law School, he thought he needed a buzz cut for anyone to take him seriously. After he dropped out of Law School and started acting, he let his hair grow out.

Drake & Josh gave Spencer financial stability and a way out of his miserable life as a Law student so he's alright with the memories to sometimes watch reruns. But because Carly has bad memories from that time, they never talk about it.

And Carly's bad memories may not even be anything related to creepy Dan Schneider. It could be the hours and workload and expectations for a child actor is A LOT to handle and it stressed her out too much.

Another plot hole: There's an iCarly blooper where Drake comes in and says "Hey Meghan. Where's Mom and Dad?". This is just Drake Bell messing with her. He's in town, gets to see some old friends and coworkers, why not reminisce? He might have also been struggling to relive the good days since his acting and music career isn't that great and everyone else moved on nicely.

Another plot hole: Why doesn't anyone ever recognize Carly as Meghan? Same reason why the Suite Life of Zack and Cody characters don't think Maddie resembles Sharpay from High School Musical, or why no one mentions how Tori Vega looks just like Shelby Marx. Doesn't really answer it, but humans are dumb. Humans are just that dumb sometimes.

Carly is comfortable with iCarly because it's just her and her friends doing whatever they want whenever they want. None of them expect it to blow up like it does but she likes it. It's nice to be in the spotlight but know you didn't sign a contract so you could just stop doing it whenever it's not fun anymore.

When she's given the chance to be with her dad again and start a fresh life in Italy, of course she says yes. If she wants to dip and leave the spotlight completely, she can do that. No more "Meghan from Drake & Josh" or "Carly from iCarly". Just Carly Shay, Colonel Shay's daughter.

[intoafandom]

No freddy slander in this house🙅🏻‍♀️